Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 508 Checking the results is an adventure more terrifying than facing Voldemort.
“Well done, Cohen, Harry.”

"Dumbledore said this after leading them away from Slughorn's residence."

“Ah… it’s mostly Cohen doing it, I still don’t understand what’s going on—” Harry scratched his head, “He seems to really like Cohen’s dragon blood and chimera saliva…”

“It has nothing to do with what I sold. Dragon blood only costs a dozen gallons an ounce outside,” Cohen said. “I think the main thing is that he really wants to go back to school. You can see how much he wants to continue to take on promising students.”

"He probably thought you meant the price of a pint." (One pint = twenty ounces)

Dumbledore winked at them.

"In any case, you have successfully helped the school find an excellent teacher, and we are very grateful."

Cohen really wanted to say, "It's bad civilization to just say thank you without giving a gift," but Dumbledore seemed to have anticipated what Cohen was going to say. After saying, "It's getting late, it's time to take you home to sleep," he pulled Cohen and Harry and Apparated to the entrance of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

"Dumbledore? Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Edward opened the door, which means it must be at least eight o'clock now.

"No, thank you for your kind offer, Edward, but I have to go back to school to strengthen student protection for the next semester," Dumbledore said very politely.
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"That's wrong. He just doesn't want to suddenly give us extra points before the start of the semester."

Cohen said after Dumbledore left,

"Because then Professor McGonagall would yell 'Albus' in a critical tone again."

"What have you been up to now?" Edward led the two inside. "Harry, Sirius has already brought your luggage to your room—have the Dursleys been treating you any better this summer?"

“It’s better than expected, Mr. Norton.” Harry smiled.

“I expanded my trade route a bit today, at least seventy Galleons,” Cohen said. “That old man really liked Harry and me and wanted to book us for the night.”

“We’ve gone to invite a new professor,” Harry quickly added.

Edward's expression was less tense.

“Slughorn,” Cohen said, “have you ever joined his ‘Don’t forget your mentor when you become famous’ club?”

“Oh, Professor Slughorn,” Edward said with a sudden realization. “I remember him; he did teach me—but wasn’t his club called the ‘Slug Club’?”

"So you were invited too?" Harry asked curiously.

“Oh, no.” Edward shook his head. “He said I have no ambition—I heard it from Rose. She and Lily were invited, though.”

“Harry!” Hermione’s voice rang out from the stairs. She had only arrived a few days ago, and Cohen guessed that this was Ron’s first step in helping her adapt to life with the Weasley family—after all, the Weasleys were the majority of the residents here now.

The original humble dwelling was temporarily abandoned because Sirius really didn't want to cook for himself.

Ron followed behind Hermione, intending to bump fists with Harry behind her.

Hermione ran over and gave Harry a hug, then gave Cohen one too—

“No need for that, we were talking just two hours ago,” Cohen said after receiving a hug.

After getting used to the little snake monster's constant "hugs," human hugs seem somewhat uninteresting.

“Ron and I are still wondering where Dumbledore will take you!” Hermione said. “Could it be another Horcrux—I mean, you know…”

“You guys go upstairs and talk,” Edward said. “Oh, by the way, aren’t your grades coming in tomorrow morning? I remember OWL report cards are usually issued on August 1st.” “Tomorrow!” Hermione suddenly exclaimed. “I completely forgot—oh my god—I’m sure I blew my marks…”

“Hermione…” Ron, who was following behind her, sighed.

“Cohen, I specifically asked the director of the Department of Magical Education about your grades,” Edward whispered in Cohen’s ear. “Your mother and I are very pleased—well done. Now Arnold owes me a month’s worth of afternoon tea.”

But no matter how Cohen asked, Edward refused to reveal Cohen's test scores beforehand, insisting that Cohen wait for the results with anticipation.

"I think Hermione needs to know her grades in advance."

In the living room, Harry said listlessly the next morning,

"She woke us up at five o'clock—do owls really start delivering mail at that hour?"

“If it were the Earl, he wouldn’t.” Cohen glanced at the sofa, where the Earl was sleeping between two female owls. “However, the Earl’s schedule isn’t exactly typical for owls.”

The Earl seems to sleep only seven or eight hours a day, which is completely different from the sleep schedule of other owls who are always sleeping unless they have to deliver a message.

Hermione is still anxiously looking around at the window.

“I know I bombed my ancient runes test…” Hermione said, “There’s at least one place that’s completely wrong—”

“One word!” Ron shouted, sprawled on two chairs pushed together. “You’re still an O—Hermione, until you get ten OWL Achievements…”

"No, stop talking! I know I failed every single one of them!" Hermione said hysterically.

“A classic academic genius’s statement.” Cohen lay on the table waiting for breakfast.

“What happens if I fail?” Harry asked. “Professor McGonagall only mentioned attending advanced classes.”

“Then we’ll lose the chance to take the NEWT exam,” Cohen said. “But it doesn’t matter; if you can’t take the advanced course, then passing or failing doesn’t really make a difference.”

Suddenly, Hermione let out a scream.

“I guess the owl is here.” Ron, though seemingly unconcerned, quickly flipped over from his chair and jumped to stand with Hermione at the window.

“There are four in total,” Harry said.

“One for each of us, oh no… no…” Hermione said in a panic, gripping Ron’s arm tightly.

Four owls flew into the living room in a row, then stood in a neat line, and in unison raised their right legs, from which the envelopes were hanging.

“Count, learn from them!” Cohen urged the Count.

"Coo coo coo—" the count seemed to curse in his sleep, hiding his head under his wings.

Harry and Ron didn't say anything, but their hands were shaking as they opened the envelopes—it was just like the scene of checking college entrance exam scores.

Hermione was shaking even more violently than the other two, and her owl was shaking along with her.

Cohen remained calm, because if his grades hadn't been good, Edward wouldn't have spoken in such a cheerful tone last night—unless he was gloating over "you're going to get a beating from your mom next."

No... it doesn't seem impossible?

(End of this chapter)