Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 597 Who let this Dementor into Greece!
"You, you, you are—you are—"

"That makes things difficult; the only option is to kill them to silence them."

Cohen sighed, then, to their horror, drew his wand.
"You two stay still, good, keep it up. Next, Zenong, you'll go see your great-uncle, and he'll explain something to you—and you—I forgot your name..."

Cohen pointed at the blonde girl.

"Lina, Lina..." Lina didn't even have a wand in her hand. She raised her hands, hoping that Cohen wouldn't hurt her.

“You know that pretending nothing happened is the best way to coexist peacefully with a sudden, undetected terrorist, right?” Cohen asked kindly.

Lina nodded frantically.

“Very well, from now on you continue to be a clueless bassist. I'll soon forget you exist, and then you'll be safe,” Cohen said. “And you, Zenon—”

"I'll also be a bassist who knows nothing—"

“No, even if you join the band now, it won’t help. I can’t forget you. I remember your name, and you promised to take me to the Ministry of Magic’s vault,” Cohen said. “You can go see your great-uncle, the Minister, and then you’ll understand the whole problem…”

At that moment, several people squeezed into Lina's dressing room, as if they had heard the shouts coming from inside. Cohen didn't recognize most of them.

However, the guy at the very back of the group that squeezed in looked familiar to Cohen; he was a skinny man with a gloomy expression.

Cohen had seen him not only here, but also at the hotel arranged by the Greek Ministry of Magic and in the queues of the International Tourism Department, though he hadn't paid much attention to him before.

If someone appears in your life twice, it might just be a coincidence, but if they appear three times, something's not right.

The next second, Cohen cast a silent binding spell, and a black rope immediately bound the man. Amid the gasps of the unsuspecting onlookers, Cohen walked to the bound man's side.

“Cohen… what are you going to do?” Zenon was scared, but he still stepped forward, trying to stop Cohen from harming a stranger.

He couldn't understand why Cohen would suddenly use a binding spell on an innocent passerby who had barged in, and why he looked like he was going to kill him.

But Cohen ignored him and instead squatted down next to the "zongzi" that had already fallen to the ground. He first took the wand from the other person and then untied the rope binding the other person's mouth.

"Help! Σστεμε!"

He even started shouting in Greek, which he didn't quite understand. Some people around him tried to help him, but Cohen was one step ahead.

A chilling, despairing atmosphere emanated from Cohen's location, and now no one dared to move.

"What's your name?" Cohen asked.

“Antigone Ramsay…”

“Liar,” Cohen said calmly. “Your name is Anthony Dolokhov. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you just because you used Polyjuice Potion?”

Among the Death Eaters, only Anthony Dolokhov has a soul strength of 37.

No—it's not—

“It’s easy to confirm.” Cohen raised his eyebrows, pulled Dolokhov’s left arm out, and slowly pressed his fingers against a spot of skin without any marks.

Dolokhov suddenly shuddered.

"No—please—"

“The Dark Mark, right?” Cohen said. “What would happen if Voldemort knew you'd summoned him after you were exposed?”

"I'm just here—to scout out the situation—"

"Lying on me?" Cohen asked. "That's a shame..." "I won't leak the information—don't..."

“I don’t believe you,” Cohen said with a smile, “but I’m very grateful for your contributions to maintaining world peace.”

"What contribution did you make?" Dolokhov paused for a moment.

This was the last thing he could say in his life.

Cohen transformed into the appearance of a Dementor, pulled back his hood, and directly sucked away his soul.

Those passersby whose legs had gone weak because of Cohen's Dementor aura gasped in shock. Zenon also stood there dumbfounded. He couldn't believe that the guy who had been discussing with him how to deal with the Horcrux left by Helbo was actually a Dementor—no, why can a Dementor take on a human form?
Zenon felt like his worldview had been shattered several times today—first "Helpo's son," then "humanoid Dementors," and then "British murderer"—and his great-uncle actually asked him to be his tour guide...

Have I done anything particularly bad?

Who let this Dementor into Greece!
"Avada Kedavra".

Cohen pressed his wand against Dolokhov's heart, who had already lost his soul, and cast a killing curse.

Now that Dolokhov was completely dead and no longer under the influence of the compound decoction, his face began to elongate, and stubble began to appear on his once bald chin.

“oioi, Zenong.”

Cohen transformed back into human form, removed the "Dementor Aura," and turned to shout at Zenon.
"Remember to take this corpse to your great-uncle later, and then hand it over to the British Ministry of Magic—it's a Death Eater, Voldemort's henchman."

"What—" Zenong's thoughts were pulled back.

“Death Eaters!” Cohen repeated. “I’m back at the hotel. Come find me when you’re done. If I’m not in the room, I’m in the box on the bed.”

Then, Cohen vanished from the spot with a snap.
-
After returning to the hotel, Cohen went into the box.

Chimeramon crouched at the entrance of the box, as if waiting for Cohen to return.

"Going to that band's concert was quite rewarding," Cohen said. "What are you guys doing squatting here?"

"Roar!" the lion roared unhappily.

“Metis is Herpo’s servant,” the goat explained. “The lion doesn’t like him.”

“I just tricked it into coming in to get some information,” Cohen said, stroking the lion’s mane reassuringly. “You don’t have to spend all your time with it.”

Cohen looked around; the skull wasn't outdoors, it was probably still safely in the basement of the old house.

"Roar..." The lion licked Cohen's hair.

“Where is the Earl?” Cohen asked.

“Debating with Metis in the basement,” Goat said. “is safe, because Sissoko is watching.”

“I’d better go check it out…” Cohen said, a little worried.

As soon as Cohen entered the house, he heard arguing coming from the basement.

"Shut up! How dare you slander my young master like this—you lowly bastard!"

"Am I a lowly bastard?" the count shrieked, "I hatched from an egg! You're the lowly bastard—a parasite with a head, only fit to be a fucking bastard, a dog's bastard, a fucking bastard!"

(End of this chapter)