Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 425 The most urgent thing for online dating is to come up with a five-character divine name.
“That’s really unfair,” Hermione said. “Yours isn’t actually that bad. Goyle’s potion is like lava; it’s boiled dry—”

“When has Snape ever been fair to me?” Harry sighed.

“Cheer up, bro, at least he didn’t deduct points from your score,” Ron said. “‘No helping each other’ was just a reminder from Cohen. I think Cohen would have been a better teacher than him.”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Cohen said. “Don’t make me think I’ll actually have to teach in the future—I hate teaching people the most.”

After lunch, they rested for a while before preparing to go to their divination class.

Harry, Cohen, and Ron take Divination class, while Hermione takes Arithmetic Divination class.

Trelawney's attic had a different style this time, covered with soft, square cushions for them to sit on, the tables and chairs removed, and the air filled with gray incense smoke.

Their lesson today is about dream interpretation—

“Dream interpretation is a very important method of predicting the future, and it’s also a question that’s very likely to appear in your OWL exam…” Trelawney said. “Of course, I think that compared to the sacred art of divination, whether you pass the exam or not is really not important. As long as you have the insight, those certificates and levels are trivial matters…”

“Looking at that gem on the water serpent’s head every day won’t make anyone an emperor,” Cohen said to Harry and Ron. “I think it’s best to avoid reading prophecies.”

“Please turn to the introduction.” Professor Trelawney gave Cohen and his group a stern look, as if blaming Cohen for his extremely disrespectful behavior toward “art.”

“Read what Immaeger says about dream interpretation, and then try to interpret the dreams that other students have had recently.”

A room that smells so bad it makes you want to sleep is definitely not a good place to interpret dreams, but it's quite suitable for dreaming.

Cohen was thinking about what name to use when corresponding with his "pen pal" after class.

"Cohen, what kind of dreams have you had lately?" Ron asked Cohen. "Like last night? After being attacked by the toad—"

“I don’t dream much anymore,” Cohen said listlessly, scribbling on the parchment. “Also, what you’re saying seems a bit too disgusting.”

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked again.

“I don’t really remember,” Harry said, racking his brains. “Who remembers what dreams they had before…”

“Okay…” Ron racked his brains to recall, “Let me think—I think I dreamt I was playing Quidditch again—what does that mean?”

Harry flipped through "The Dream Interpretation Guide," but the incense made it hard for him to open his eyes.

“It could mean you’ll be eaten by a giant gummy bear,” Harry said.

"It means you'll become a Quidditch player, but the road will be a bit bumpy," Cohen said absentmindedly.

“Cohen’s explanation sounds promising,” Ron nodded approvingly. “But how am I supposed to afford a broom? If there’s really no other way…”

“That’s why I said ‘don’t spend all your time looking at the prophecy ball.’ You’ll soon have to abandon some of your principles to become a volunteer for Fred and George,” Cohen said, “because of a casually uttered prophecy.”

Ron shuddered as if he were thinking of a vixen's excrement.

"Cohen, what are you writing?" He suddenly noticed a long string of words Cohen was writing on a piece of paper.

"What?" Harry was intrigued, thinking Cohen wanted to play Ink Checkers or Scrabble the Executioner—anything more interesting than making absurd interpretations of a bunch of meaningless dreams.

“I’m thinking of a name that doesn’t reveal my identity but also sounds cool,” Cohen said. “What do you guys think, ‘Sad Cloak Man’ or ‘Mysterious Black Robe Monster’? Actually, we could choose some names that other people have used, like ‘Destroyer Phoenix Man’—but that seems a bit misleading to people thinking of Dumbledore…”

"Destroy the Phoenix—hahahahahaha—" Harry's sleepiness was instantly dispelled by Cohen's name, especially after Cohen linked it to Dumbledore.

Even though Harry wasn't actually laughing very loudly, Professor Trelawney still heard the commotion and approached them with obvious displeasure. "Is something wrong with you?" Professor Trelawney said irritably, snatching the paper from Cohen's hand.

Unfortunately, after Trelawney realized that names like "Sad Cloak Man," "Mysterious Black Robe," "Destroyer Phoenix," and "Bruce Wayne" weren't dreams but rather ridiculous nicknames, he assigned the three of them even more homework.

“Record two months’ worth of dreams?!” Ron’s eyes widened. “We already have so much homework!”

“This is the only assignment for the Divination class.” Trelawney’s voice became less muffled, even somewhat like Professor McGonagall’s. “You cannot refuse under any pretext.”

"Evil old woman."

After class, Ron said resentfully.

“At least there’s only one class left today,” Harry said. “That pink toad.”

“I think the most urgent thing for you two is to quickly come up with a cool ID for yourselves,” Cohen said.

After attending six classes a day, almost every student dragged their tired body to the last class.

When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they found Umbridge already sitting behind the podium.

She was still wearing a fluffy pink cardigan, and a black velvet bow on her head, making her look like a fly that had landed on a much larger toad.

"Good afternoon, students!" she said after all the students were seated.

Only a handful of people mumbled a "good afternoon" in response to her.

“Tsk, tsk.” Umbridge looked displeased with the students’ reaction, though a forced smile remained on his face. “That won’t do, will it? I want you to answer like this: ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.’ Please say it again. Good afternoon, students!”

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge!" the students replied in varying degrees of confusion.

The reason for the inconsistency was that Harry and Cohen replied with "Good afternoon, Pink Toad."

However, due to the chaotic sounds, Umbridge couldn't discern what words the unusual voices were saying.

“It sounds like you need more practice,” Umbridge said in a sweet, coquettish voice. “But it’s not too difficult, is it? Put away your wands and get your quills.”

The students sighed, because when the teacher said "put away the wand," it meant the class was going to turn into a completely boring theory lesson.

Umbridge tapped the blackboard with her short, stubby wand, and a line of words immediately appeared on the blackboard:

Defense Against Dark Magic

Returning to basic principles

What follows... Umbridge, with her Ministry of Magic-published textbook, rewrote a set of academic terms using a naming convention that Cohen had only seen in his old university textbooks, attempting to confuse the students and thus increase their study time.

“This method must have been copied from Asia,” Cohen whispered to Harry.

“You sound like you have something to say about our course, Mr. Norton.” Umbridge smiled, revealing his small, sharp teeth.

The drowsy atmosphere vanished instantly, and everyone stared intently at Cohen.

(End of this chapter)