Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 592 Now the "Dementor Empire is truly everywhere"
"..."

“Ah—you all go out, go out, I have something important to discuss with this child.” (Greek)
Minister Lundhart shooed the Aurors around him.

They left somewhat uneasy, seemingly uneasy about the minister and Cohen sharing a cubicle.

This shows that the old man has a high reputation in the department; otherwise, a minister like Fudge would probably be eager for his subordinates to be assassinated.

After the Aurors left, Lundhart sighed.

“I heard about it… about Dumbledore—kid, I knew him, we were pretty good friends…” Lundhart said. “To be honest, I was quite angry when I heard he was killed by a child…”

Then, Lundhart's gaze fell on Cohen's eyes.

The little old man had bright, pale green eyes, which stood out even more against his bark-like skin.

“But then it occurred to me—what kind of person could kill him so easily without any retaliation?” Lundhart said wisely. “I’m more inclined to believe that Dumbledore left voluntarily. I’ve heard that the wizard whose name can’t even be mentioned has returned, and I’ve heard about what’s been happening during this period…”

"Hmm?" Cohen was a little confused as to why Lundhart was telling him all this.

“In addition, when I talked about you, your father said a few things that were somewhat evasive,” Lundhart continued. “He lied about the last time he saw you. I could tell that your parents loved you deeply, and you certainly loved them deeply too. You didn’t hurt him then; you just left.”

“Emmm…” Cohen felt that the old man seemed to be there to persuade him to turn back from his wrong path—but that was definitely impossible.

Because he wouldn't try to clear his name until his soul strength was boosted to over 90 by this murder.

“Your father is right, you’re a good boy, and I’m willing to believe you,” Lundhart said. “For your sake, and for the safety of the Greek people, I think I should treat you well once you arrive in Greece—as I just said, you can explore Greece freely, your food and lodging in the wizarding world will be free, no one will bother you, and I won’t spread your news. Of course, that’s on the condition that you promise me you won’t do anything to harm others in Greece…”

Lundhart's last sentence revealed his true meaning.

“I never intended to come here to hurt anyone else…” Cohen said helplessly.

I was wrong—this old man wasn't here to persuade me to turn back from my wrong path; he was here to negotiate.

However, the approach was very gentle, and Cohen was provided with room and board, which Cohen appreciated.

“That’s great,” Lundhart laughed.

"Wait a minute, don't get too excited," Cohen reminded him. "I have something else to tell you."

"What is it?" Lundhart asked patiently. "As long as it doesn't pose a danger to others, I think I can help you."

“You can definitely help,” Cohen said. “It’s not a big deal—I want to let my Dementors out tonight to find some food. Don’t worry, they each bring their own food, and I’ll remind them not to attack anyone…”

Lundhart's expression shifted, but after hearing that Cohen would only release the Dementors at night and that they wouldn't attack anyone out of hunger...

After some thought, Lundhart realized that Cohen's demands didn't seem so terrible after all.

"Are you sure they won't attack anyone?" Lundhart asked again, still somewhat uneasy.

“I’ll fish one out for you to experience,” Cohen said with great enthusiasm, then opened the box and summoned a Dementor.

"No—no need—" Lundhart said hastily as Cohen pulled out a Dementor, his face turning pale instantly, his right hand gripping his wand. But this Dementor did not exude the usual rotten, despairing aura, nor did it give him the chilling feeling he usually felt.

The Dementors I encountered during my previous talks in Britain didn't look like this at all.

The Dementor that Cohen had pulled out looked at Lundhart through its empty hood, then at Cohen.

“See?” Cohen said, shrugging.

“It does seem…not so dangerous…” Lundhart breathed a sigh of relief. “I think if it’s just going out to find something for you at night, it shouldn’t be too much trouble…”

“That’s great, that will definitely be much more efficient.” Cohen nodded and said, “After all, if they were driven away by a group of Aurors with their guardian spirits every time they searched a place, it would take an unknown amount of time to search the entire Greece…”

"The whole of Greece?" Lundhart opened his eyes slightly, looking surprised. "What are you looking for?"

“A hidden danger left behind by a very evil dark wizard,” Cohen said. “I guess you’re aware of that too—”

“That despicable Helbo,” Lundhart replied quickly, “but—son, he’s long dead. His house is a tourist attraction now, it’s been inspected repeatedly over the years…”

"That's why I'm going to search through the whole of Greece," Cohen said matter-of-factly.

"Isn't it a bit too slow for you and it to do it alone?" Lundhart, having learned that Cohen was there to clean up the evil relics left behind by Helbo, was considering offering some assistance. "I can arrange for some Aurors to help you search—"

“No need, the Aurors aren’t as perceptive as them.” Cohen shook his head. “My Dementors are enough, and Greece isn’t that big…”

“I see—wait—you said your Dementors—how many Dementors did you bring in?” Lundhart suddenly thought of a terrible question and his gaze shifted to Cohen’s box.

“Not many, maybe a few hundred,” Cohen said. “I think forcing them to split more might be more efficient, but then they wouldn’t have enough food. The reproductive capacity of the ‘little animals’ that the British Ministry of Magic is researching to produce emotions can’t keep up…”

Hundreds!
Lundhart felt like his brain had shut down.

"is it not OK?"

Cohen looked at Lundhart with a forlorn expression.

The Dementor beside him also mimicked Cohen's actions, floating close to the ground and peering at Lundhart through the hole in its dark hood.

"..."
-
"And so, I reached a cooperation agreement with the Greek Minister of Magic."

That night, Cohen lay on his bed in the hotel, sharing with the Earl his conversation with the white-bearded old man that day.

"This collaboration is so voluntary," the count remarked.

"unimportant."

Cohen shook his head.

"At least it saves me from having to scour this entire territory of over 100,000 square kilometers myself—I have other things to do, like going to the old house in Hailbo tomorrow to see if there are any clues about the hidden soul artifacts in that place that has become a tourist attraction."

(End of this chapter)