Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 584 Sacrifice
“Ready, Professor,” Harry said somewhat guiltily, because he hadn’t really thought about preparing anything.

"Be prepared to run away at any time if danger arises," Cohen said bluntly.

“Very good,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “I expect you to follow my instructions. When I ask you to leave me, you must do so and protect yourselves, okay?”

“Okay,” Cohen said.

“But—” Harry started to say something in confusion, but was interrupted by Dumbledore.

“Harry.” Dumbledore looked at Harry, his voice stern.

“Okay,” Harry said sullenly.

"Did you put on the Invisibility Cloak, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

“I brought it, but you mean there will be—” Harry said.

“Danger, of course, Harry, we are in danger every moment, but we cannot choose not to take that step just because we see danger,” Dumbledore said. “We will always lose some things, but we will also gain others. Remember, those gains are more worthy of our attention…”

"Now, it's time for us to set off."
-
Dumbledore led them to the outside of the Hog's Head, where a scruffy, grey-bearded man muttered something to them and slammed the door shut as if they were unwelcome customers.

“It will take some time, or some opportunity, but I don’t have high hopes…” Dumbledore sighed. “Grab my arm, Harry, Cohen—of course, you can choose which one to grab.”

Cohen grabbed the left side, and Harry grabbed the right side; the scene looked like an old man taking his two grandsons on a trip.

Then—after confirming that they were both holding on tight, they started spinning.

It was as if they had been stuffed into a rubber tube. A moment later, they were squeezed out like toothpaste, and the damp air, smelling of mud and rotten leaves, filled their nostrils.

Harry gasped for breath, while Cohen, who didn't need to breathe as much, immediately began to observe his surroundings.

The Dumbledore next to him is a puppet. Although control is given to the real Dumbledore, the puppet's magical power is actually the same as that of an ordinary wizard. So if any dangerous situation arises, only Cohen will actually be able to take action.

They are now in a dense forest, with no end in sight, only rolling hills in view.

The withered tree that Harry mentioned was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is this... Albania?" Harry looked around after catching his breath.

“It’s like a place lions would like,” Cohen said. “I smelled the scents of many small animals.”

“That’s right,” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “A remote, deserted place. Voldemort trusts this place to be safe because I’ve never come here to look for him.”

"Why?" Harry asked curiously.

“Because I know I can’t do better than your mother,” Dumbledore said. “There was no point in looking for him then.”

“Fluorescent.” Harry was having trouble seeing anything in the woods at night, let alone finding the dead tree, so he lit the tip of his wand. “Should we…explore the whole forest?”

“No need.” Cohen pointed in a direction. “Over there.”

“Where?” Harry pointed his wand where Cohen was pointing, but all the trees there looked the same; he couldn’t find the withered tree he’d seen before. “I don’t think I see it—”

“I can smell it, and I can see it.” Cohen saw a vibrant soul strength marker not far away.

[Soul Strength: 30]

This time, the souls Voldemort split off from him were not like the ones before; the closer to the present, the stronger the souls became.

His Horcrux this time wasn't even as powerful as the one Harry had.

Splitting his soul so many times clearly made him more vulnerable.

“There are indeed very obvious traces of magic.” Dumbledore led them to a stop in front of one of the thick, lush, giant trees.

It would take almost three people to encircle it, but this tree was completely different from the dead tree that Harry had seen through Voldemort's eyes.

“A simple disguise.” Dumbledore waved his wand, and the tree visibly withered before Harry’s astonished eyes.

At the base of the tree was a hollow that emitted a green glow, and even though Harry's wand wasn't pointed at it, he could still see what was inside in the pitch-black night.

It was a pocket watch lying quietly in the tree hole. The cover was open, and you could see the hands turning softly inside, but there was not a sound coming out.

It was as if an invisible membrane was blocking the entrance to the tree hole. "Can we just reach in and get it?" Harry felt it was too easy, so his tone was full of uncertainty.

“He wouldn’t keep his final trump card hidden so simply.” Dumbledore circled the tree a few times, his wand drawing various symbols in the air, nodding occasionally, and muttering something to himself.

Ha looked at Cohen with a curious gaze, but Cohen just shrugged.

“I never learn things that seem complicated and that I might never use in my life,” Cohen said.

“Ah…I understand,” Dumbledore said softly.

"You know how to get it?" Harry asked Dumbledore.

"I think I've figured out how these protective spells work—"

As Dumbledore spoke, he picked up a dry twig from the ground and threw it into the tree hole that was glowing green.

The branch burst into flames the moment it came into contact with the green light emanating from the tree hole, and in an instant, the ghastly green flames engulfed it.

Immediately afterwards, the invisible milky-white barrier lit up briefly before disappearing from sight.

Harry gasped—he had just been about to reach in and grab it.

“He was like a wounded beast, starting to become hysterical,” Dumbledore said. “But there was a way…”

Cohen could tell that Dumbledore felt his plans had been disrupted when he said those words, so he looked at Dumbledore with some confusion, but Dumbledore only returned his gaze with a conflicted look.

“How are we supposed to get it?” Harry swallowed hard.

“This barrier requires a sacrifice.” Dumbledore picked up another stone and threw it into the hollow tree—it too was engulfed by green flames, but this time, the milky-white barrier didn’t even break. “Voldemort left an obvious way to obtain the Horcrux so he could come back for it later… but he wants to make sure we can’t get it from him—”

“What kind of offering is needed?” Harry asked.

“The life of a wizard.” Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. “The life of a living being imbued with powerful magic—that’s why I said he was starting to become hysterical.”

"He was confident that those of us with feelings wouldn't be willing to sacrifice others, and others wouldn't be willing to let us sacrifice ourselves, so I would never be able to find his Horcruxes—"

"How about I do it?" Cohen suggested.

“Cohen, you are not indestructible,” Dumbledore said. “You need to be vigilant when facing unknown dangers, and you still have much to do—”

“Or I could—” Harry took a deep breath and said, “I’m almost an adult, and—I don’t know if I qualify as a ‘creature with powerful magic’—but since my mother put that spell on me—”

“Your mother placed a curse on you to keep you alive,” Dumbledore said.

“I’m alive to defeat Voldemort!” Harry raised his voice. “Destroy this Horcrux, and you can kill him for good—Cohen is more suited to be the Child of Prophecy than I am. He was born in July too, wasn’t he? And he also has to—his mom and dad are waiting for him to come home…”

“Sirius is also waiting for you to come home.” Cohen frowned. He had to admit that Harry’s willingness to die almost without hesitation was quite surprising to Cohen.

But in reality, they didn't need to die at all—

"Your survival is far more valuable than mine—"

"Stop arguing. I know someone more suitable to be the sacrifice for this ghost tree hollow than you," Cohen interrupted.

No wonder Dumbledore looked so conflicted when he responded.

You don't feel any pain at all about sacrificing Cohen's puppets, do you?
"Wait here a minute—don't move around!"

Cohen spread his suitcase on the ground, then opened it and crawled inside.

A short while later, Cohen dragged out a man dressed in prison clothes, covered in dirt.

“Here, let him go get it, Murseb, Death Eater.” Cohen threw the unconscious prisoner to the ground.

Why are there Death Eaters in your box?

Dumbledore frowned and asked Cohen.

“The Dementors gave me a little treat,” Cohen said. “But that’s not the point—just let him be the sacrifice. He’ll have his soul eaten by the Dementors anyway, so it’ll all be the same.”

(End of this chapter)