"Even though you're yelling like crazy, I know you're totally gonna do it," Cohen said, locking eyes with the Earl, his gaze brimming with sincerity and enthusiasm.
"Why're you looking at me like that…?" The Earl squinted suspiciously. Then his two horn-like feathers shot up, and his eyes widened in panic. "Wait—hold on! How are there *two* Basilisks in this school?! Holy—wait—the lab—you—"
"Smart guy," Cohen said with a grin.
"Am I about to die?" the Earl said calmly, like he'd already accepted his fate. "I knew this was coming the day you bought me. Ha! Snakes. They used to slither into my nest, and now they're still clinging to me…"
"What, you got a persecution complex or something?" Cohen asked.
"No, I've got *you*," the Earl shot back, sounding like he'd run out of steam—and tricks.
"Thank Merlin I'm blessed enough to be an owl that deals with Dementors, Nightmares, *and* Basilisks all at once. If owls had a history book, I'd go down as the bravest, strongest one ever."
The Earl couldn't say no to Cohen—not that Cohen was actually sending him to his doom.
"Just cover your eyes," Cohen said, tying a black silk ribbon around the Earl's head. "All you've gotta do is hold the wand and be a witness. You don't need to see anything, and the Unbreakable Vow doesn't care either."
"Snakes eat birds," the blindfolded Earl said, his voice dripping with despair. "And now that I can't see, I feel even *less* safe!"
"They won't hurt you—I've got this," Cohen reassured him.
*"Hiss hiss…"* (Son, you brought food already?)
Down in the Chamber, Sissoko eyed the blindfolded owl Cohen had brought with a hungry glint.
*"Hiss hiss hiss…"* (This is *my* owl. You eat it, and what—you're gonna deliver my mail every day?)
Cohen shoved Sissoko's massive snake head away from the Earl.
*"Hiss hiss…"* (It's here to witness later so the Unbreakable Vow can take effect.)
"I don't get it, I don't get it!" the Earl chirped in a trembling voice. "You're not talking about how to cook me, right? Wait—no-feathers, you still alive? Did your dad already eat you?"
"No, chill out—it's starting," Cohen said to the Earl. "Grab the wand."
Cohen plopped the Earl onto a rock he'd transfigured into a table. Blindfolded, the owl clutched the wand Cohen had bought for it, facing Cohen and Sissoko.
It had zero clue what Cohen and this giant mystery snake were hissing about.
The Unbreakable Vow with Sissoko went off without a hitch—way smoother than with Ari. Probably because Sissoko had spent years wandering around outside and just wanted to laze about, while Ari's craving for freedom was a whole lot fiercer.
"Where's that old Basilisk from the Chamber?" Cohen hissed at Sissoko. "Where'd it go?"
"Back to its nest," Sissoko said, rubbing its face against Cohen's—its cold scales somehow sending a warm vibe through him, some kind of magical blood-bond thing. "It's kinda down. Never left the castle its whole life, stuck guarding this place for that—what's-his-name—Salazar guy. And now the castle wizards wanna hunt it down for it…"
"We could take it with us," Cohen said, plotting out the next steps.
Voldemort would definitely want to keep using the Basilisk for attacks. If Cohen hauled it off first, old No-Nose would just be left yelling, "Where's my Basilisk? Where's my giant freaking snake?"—and that'd be the end of it.
But where do you stash two Basilisks?
And they'd need meat every day…
"How much space do you guys need to live?" Cohen asked. "I've got a big setup in my trunk, but there's a bunch of smaller critters in there. You move in, and they might drop dead in batches—then I'd have to start over…"
Norbert and Ari probably wouldn't get taken out by the stare—dragons have the bloodline for it, and Ari's curse-immune. Tough creatures like that are fine.
But Norbert's food stash? Those Puffskeins and sheep would be toast—one glance, and bam, Norbert's chowing down on hundreds of sheep per meal again.
"I could dig a hole?" Sissoko offered, super adaptable. "Just need a quiet spot to crash, son. I'm not picky—you think you could hook me up with a few lady—"
"I was gonna set you up with a nice place," Cohen said flatly. "Now you're stuck in the basement—the kind where you can't even wiggle your tail."
*Desert Reaper my foot.*
A normal snake would keel over from one look—where was Cohen supposed to steal a couple of lady Basilisks from? Plus, Basilisks might be like mules—sterile. Nobody's betting on something hatched by a toad from a chicken egg to keep the family line going.
Still, Sissoko looked thrilled. Cohen figured it didn't actually care about space or mates—it was just stoked to have a free food-and-board gig and call it a day.
"Might as well bring the old Basilisk too. Kinda feel bad for it," Cohen said, telling Sissoko to fetch it. He was already here—might as well take them both. They'd be the ones squeezing in together, not him.
He'd tinker around in his free time, see if he could whip up a burrow for them—
**[Ding! Goodwill +100]**
*Note: That's so touching!*
Why's the system's commentary so… weird?
No clue if it was for saving the old Basilisk or just thinking about building them a burrow—but hey, goodwill points are goodwill points.
"We leaving yet? We leaving yet?" the Earl asked, stiff as a rock by now.
"One more round to go," Cohen said, giving its head a pat.
Sissoko slithered up through the hole in Slytherin's giant statue in the Chamber. A minute later, it dragged the old Basilisk out.
"Come on, buddy—good times are coming!" Sissoko said, yanking the slower old Basilisk along with its tail—like they were arm-in-arm, snake-style.
"Really…?" the old Basilisk asked, hopeful.
For a split second, Cohen felt a tiny pang of conscience—like a pebble stuck in his chest. This whole scene kinda looked like a gang tricking a lonely old Hogwarts snake into slavery, and the poor thing was *eager* for it.
But the feeling passed quick. Conscience only bugs you for a few seconds. All Cohen saw now was a shiny future with two Basilisks as his secret weapons.
"Totally real," Cohen said to the old Basilisk.
He went through the Unbreakable Vow routine again with the old one—but this time, something was off.
The old Basilisk didn't resist at all—it was almost too eager. But no sparks, no magical flair. Nothing happened.
Another spell was blocking the Vow—magic lingering on the Basilisk.
"You dare try to claim Slytherin's property…?"
A raspy, ancient voice echoed through the Chamber. Cohen had never heard it before, but he didn't need to guess who'd left it behind—Slytherin himself.