"Eh?" the Count said, eyes wide.
"No wonder he told me to keep this letter on me," Cohen sighed, pulling the folded letter from his pocket. "I thought it was some sort of danger warning – where did he dig up such an obscure charm? I've never seen it in any book."
"You can tell he really loves you," the Count said, sounding unexpectedly serious.
"Or maybe he's just feeling playful—" Cohen frowned. "The connection's getting fuzzy. Looks like there's something acting like a suppressor here."
"Suppressor?" the Count immediately grew alert. "The Silver Key people know you're here!"
"Obviously..." Cohen said exasperatedly. "Didn't you figure out that Mr. Raven was off?"
"I just figured out that his head was genuinely a bird's head," the Count said. "What did you figure out?"
"That Mr. Raven had no soul," Cohen said, putting Mr. Frando back into his pocket. "Must be a puppet, just like that fake Peter I used before."
"What does Silver Key want?" the Count asked uneasily. "First they snatched Von Braun, then they lured away Frando's soul – and then drew you here only to immediately jam the connection..."
"They want me to watch a performance," Cohen said. "Did you notice when we went upstairs? There are only seven guests in this inn right now: the guide, the grumpy old bloke and his son, the Beatrice sisters, and Edward and me."
"It is certainly odd for such a large inn..." the Count said. "And... what would Silver Key want with a bunch of Muggles? Are they after their souls too?"
"What's so great about Muggle souls?" Cohen shook his head. "It'd be less bother to snatch a few wizards from Diagon Alley, especially if they just said there were sexy witches offering drinks here – a bunch of single blokes would come running. Since they're so keen on putting on a show, I might as well see what they're planning to perform."
A knock sounded at the door.
No soul strength tag, so it must be that Mr. Raven.
A puppet with neither a soul nor a magical source wouldn't have the ability to attack, naturally. Mr. Raven was probably just making an appearance as an 'actor'.
"Your dessert," Mr. Raven stood at the door holding a tray with a single glass of orange juice on it, and a paper straw sticking out.
"Alright," Cohen took the juice. The other guests must have already been served; Cohen's room was the last one.
"Enjoy your stay," Mr. Raven bowed politely to Cohen.
Closing the door, Cohen took the glass of juice back to the table.
"Could it be poisoned!" the Count said guardedly.
"That would be rather daft," Cohen tapped the rim of the glass with his wand, confirming it was just plain orange juice. "They wouldn't go to all this trouble just to poison Edward and me. They might as well just wait outside my front door and slip some tainted milk into my milk box."
"However..." Cohen's tone shifted, and he pulled the paper straw out of the glass.
The paper straw is rolled paper.
"Is that... right?" the Count asked, tilting his head.
"It being strange is precisely what's right," Cohen said, pursing his lips.
Cohen unrolled the straw – or rather, it had been rolled up out of oiled paper to look like a straw in the first place.
After unrolling it, a line of text was clearly visible on the oiled paper.
[One will find death, the other enlightenment.]
(One dies, the other gains revelation)
"Honestly, where have I ended up? Is this even the wizarding world anymore?"
Cohen clicked his tongue.
He'd thought it was just a bit of a resemblance – now they weren't even trying to hide it?
Was there seriously no copyright issue here!
"What, what, what?" The Count's fluffy, furry head squeezed closer. "What does it say?"
But the Count couldn't see what this sentence had to do with Cohen.
"What's the point of giving you this note?"
"Merlin knows—" Cohen said, his face falling.
The door was knocked upon again, but this time there was a clear 10-point soul strength outside. It was clearly Edward.
Cohen looked at the flustered 'Mr. Burton' at the door, asking in confusion.
"That glass of 'dessert' you got just now, did you drink it?" Mr. Burton asked, grabbing Cohen's shoulder. "Where's the glass now? Are you feeling unwell?"
"Stop, stop, stop—" Cohen, being shaken back and forth, quickly called out. "You'll shake me to bits—I didn't drink it, and there's no poison in it. The glass is on the table."
Mr. Burton let go of Cohen and rushed towards the table. Cohen saw him subtly pull his wand from his pocket, his detection method identical to Cohen's – and he visibly sighed with relief when he found the juice wasn't poisoned.
"What's going on? Was yours poisoned?" Cohen asked.
"No, I just saw that your glass was a different colour than ours—" Mr. Burton said. "Gave me a fright. If anything happened, how would I explain it to your mother..."
"If your acting is that poor, don't try playing dress-up games like other people..." Cohen said, rubbing his forehead. "No wonder you couldn't even fool those Silver Key people..."
"Ha – you noticed, did you?" Edward scratched his head.
"I wasn't going to say anything, but your Polyjuice Potion wore off," Cohen said, pointing to Edward's hair, which was starting to turn golden. "How did you get hair from Mum's colleague?"
"Getting a bit of hair isn't hard," Edward said. "I scheduled a fight with him – you should've seen it, I thrashed the blighter—"
"Don't believe it," Cohen said to Edward in the same tone 'Mr. Burton' had used to him on the boat. "He's bald, and you fight? With your stomach? You definitely used Hair-Raising Potion and then pretended to be a barber to cut his hair, didn't you?"
"That's not important—" Edward quickly steered the conversation elsewhere. "Are you sure that Von Braun and Frando are here?"
"Yes," Cohen nodded. "But Silver Key has used some jamming methods, so it might take me a bit of time to find them..."
"There's something off about this place," Edward said seriously. "Don't be so careless – I'm coming with you—"
"Eh?" Cohen's eyes widened. "Aren't you the one who's careless?"
"Where am I careless besides my stomach?!" Edward corrected him.
"You came here with no preparation whatsoever. Isn't that careless enough?" Cohen retorted. "Now not only do I have to deal with Silver Key, I also have to look after your safety—"
"Don't be daft. Your old man needs you to look after him?" Edward said decisively. "I can't leave you to face terrorists alone – and your mother—"
"Alright then, let's go together," Cohen sighed.
"Huh?" Edward seemed to have a long persuasive speech prepared – Cohen agreeing so quickly was unexpected.
"I said, let's work together," Cohen said helplessly. "I can't talk you out of it, and I don't think you're like Herbert, someone I could just knock out with a Stunner..."
"Herbert?" Edward heard that name, more familiar than familiar, and looked at Cohen strangely. "What Stunner? Did he attack you? That doesn't seem right..."
"I paid a visit there," Cohen said briefly. "He was actually quite alright to me... but the first time we met, I used a Stunner on him – I thought he was going to attack me."
"He certainly ought to be nice to you," Edward said, using a rare touch of anger in his voice.
Cohen actually rather wanted to explain the real situation to Edward and his mother – that Herbert hadn't been involved in the kidnapping. But since Herbert had previously said he didn't want to tell Edward and Rose, Cohen chose to continue respecting Herbert's wishes.
Perhaps this feeling of atonement made Herbert feel better.
After Edward's brief acting career came to an end, Cohen was half-forcibly taken to room 206 by Edward, on the grounds of 'not being allowed to wander off alone.'
"I really should have brought the trunk," Cohen regretted.
"I thought you would bring the trunk," Edward said, looking at the misty lake outside the window, asking in confusion. "Shouldn't it be safer that way?"
"Because I wasn't sure about the capabilities of the person who stole Frando's soul," Cohen said. "What if I brought them along and they were all... done for? I'd be quite upset."
"..." Edward was silent for a moment.
"I'd be quite upset if you were done for too," Cohen said.
"Your mother and I feel the same way," Edward said.
"You two go and burn Silver Key to ashes," the Count said. "And while you're at it, help me rescue Frando, alright?"
"Let me see how Silver Key's play unfolds first," Cohen looked at the clock in the room. "It's dinner time. Shall we head down and see?"
In truth, Cohen and Edward had brought their own food. Going downstairs was just to see if anything new had happened.
But the 'new developments' were clearly more than Cohen had anticipated.
Like the three children Mr. Raven led into the hall at dinner time.
"Why didn't I even consider that you three blighters would skip school?!" Cohen said, covering his face.
As for how these three had found him...
The answer was already on the 'empty space' behind the three of them.
An invisible Chimera was crouching behind them. It had clearly brought the three of them here, or perhaps the three of them had forced it to find Cohen...
"What? You skipped school?!" Edward, who had turned back into 'Mr. Burton', wide-eyed.
"Actually, I was planning to come alone—" Hermione said quietly.
"There's no way we're letting you face danger alone, Cohen," Harry said firmly. "Especially since Professor Dumbledore wouldn't even tell us where you'd gone..."
"Even if he had told you, you would have skipped lessons anyway, wouldn't you?" Cohen said.
"Would... would we?" Harry scratched his head.
"Would... would we..." Ron said, his eyes darting away.
"This is...?" Harry hadn't seen the middle-aged man with the handlebar moustache next to Cohen before.
"Mr. Burton, a colleague of my mother's," Cohen said, not revealing Edward's identity in the hall. "Don't worry – he's not a Muggle."
Meanwhile, Mr. Raven had returned to the front desk.
He tapped the bell, summoning the other residents as well.
But what he said wasn't that dinner was served.
"The boat has sunk, there are crocodiles in the lake. Please do not attempt to swim across the lake," Mr. Raven said in a calm tone. "But do not panic, rescue will arrive within a week."
"What?! What do you mean the boat has sunk?" The old bloke in the suit demanded angrily. "Do you mean you only have one boat here?"
"Rescue in a week?" One of the Beatrice sisters asked. "Isn't there a phone here? We only booked for two days! We have a friend's wedding the day after tomorrow!"
"Did you do this?" Cohen turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, asking in a low voice.
But they were all shaking their heads frantically – the boat had been perfectly fine when they arrived.
The boat sunk, the island sealed off...
So, it was Werewolf time now, wasn't it?
A pity Lupin wasn't here.
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