The next morning, after receiving a letter saying "Cohen's in trouble," the Nortons—Edward and Rose—rushed to the school via the Floo Network. They'd connected their home to it through the Ministry earlier, originally planning to take Cohen on a fun family trip.
In Cohen's hospital room, Edward sat quietly by his son's bedside, staring at Cohen's cold, lifeless body. He'd assumed "Cohen's in trouble" meant Cohen had accidentally sucked out someone's soul or something—not this.
Meanwhile, Rose was facing off with Dumbledore.
"Cohen wrote to us just two days ago, saying he was prepping for finals—and now you're telling me he died right under your nose?!"
Rose was like a furious tiger, claws out as she grilled Dumbledore.
"You clearly—He's mine and Edward's—You—"
Her grief choked her words, leaving the rest stuck in her throat.
"I understand how this feels, and it's all my fault," Dumbledore said, calmly taking the blame. "I'll—"
"You understand *nothing*!" Rose roared, her eyes red and raw. "You don't have a son! You just stood there—watching him—"
"Rose…" Edward stepped over to his crumbling wife, wrapping an arm around her shoulders so she had a place to let it all out.
"I'm not hiding the truth to dodge responsibility," Dumbledore said. "I know lies can't ease the pain that comes with love. Cohen was a brave, kind kid—we all saw that."
"I'd rather he was a little evil… as long as he could live…" Rose sobbed, her usual strength gone.
"He'll receive the school's Special Services Award—"
"He's already dead," Edward cut in, looking up at Dumbledore. "An award now—"
"I'm not saying Cohen's death is something to celebrate," Dumbledore interrupted, a rare edge to his voice. "His sacrifice to protect the Philosopher's Stone deserves every reward in the world—but no reward can bring back a life. It's just a memory we can hold onto."
"Wait a sec…" Edward frowned as a troubling thought hit him. "Cohen wasn't…?"
He didn't finish, but the implication was clear.
A dark, magical hybrid creature raised in the school of "the greatest white wizard alive," dead within a year—it was easy to suspect…
"I didn't, haven't, and never would harm Cohen," Dumbledore said, looking every bit like an ordinary old man.
"Where's that bastard Quirrell?"
Rose pulled away from Edward, leaving a damp patch of tears on his shirt. She'd cried herself out, and now her wand was in her hand, gripped like a dagger.
"He's dead. He lasted an hour after Voldemort left his body," Dumbledore replied.
Cohen was about to slip back into his body, wiggle his fingers, and pull off a dramatic TV-style resurrection. After watching the drama unfold—maybe a bit *too* intently—he'd almost forgotten to "wake up." Rose and Edward were already planning to take him away for burial.
But Dumbledore's next words made Cohen's soul pop right back out.
"I have a request," Dumbledore said. "Could you leave Cohen's body here for a little while?"
"What?" Edward's brow furrowed. "Sorry, I didn't catch that—"
"A chance to fix this. The research that created Cohen ventured into a forbidden realm of alchemy no one's ever mastered—the homunculus. I noticed the Philosopher's Stone melted into his flesh after contact. Normally, its magic would stay in the body, but this morning, I found it gone. That's not normal."
Dumbledore explained:
"That stone belongs to my friend Nicolas Flamel. Whatever the reason, I think he should take a look—even though he's told me he's ready to join his wife in the afterlife."
"Fix this—you mean—" Edward swallowed hard. "Cohen might—"
"There's still hope…?" Rose stared at Dumbledore, unblinking.
"Nicolas is a master of alchemy. He might know a way to save Cohen."
"Then why didn't you say so sooner?!" Edward blurted, relief flooding in. "Ha—I *knew* Cohen wouldn't go down that easy—he's got us…"
"I didn't want to raise a hope I might have to crush myself. That's too cruel," Dumbledore cautioned.
"I don't fully understand why the Stone's magic vanished completely, which is why I suspect Cohen's soul is still in or around his body. Nicolas will arrive this afternoon. Please don't take your anger at me out on him—he doesn't know anything about this and bears no blame."
Cohen's plan to leap up from the bed shouting "Surprise!" evaporated instantly.
The Stone was already "eaten" by him—there was no way this alchemy master could reclaim it now.
Plus, Nicolas Flamel was dying. Cohen figured he could put in a little effort, maybe snag some of Nicolas's inheritance. The guy didn't have a son, after all.
And just like Hagrid couldn't refuse a unicorn begging for butterbeer, Cohen had a trump card Nicolas couldn't turn down…
He was the only homunculus experiment in the world to survive this long.
Dumbledore left the room—there were still school matters to handle. News of Cohen's death hadn't spread among the students yet.
Edward and Rose stayed by Cohen's side.
Since he wasn't badly hurt, Harry woke up that day too and snuck into Cohen's room, hoping to see if Dumbledore had saved him.
Harry froze when he saw the Nortons beside Cohen, unsure what to say.
"Um… Mr. Norton, Mrs. Norton…" Harry stammered.
He noticed Rose's red-rimmed eyes and swallowed the question, "How's Cohen?"
It was all he could think to say.
"It's not your fault, Harry," Rose said gently, her voice tinged with sorrow but calmer now. All she could do was hope Nicolas Flamel could bring Cohen back.
Harry apologized a few more times before bolting out.
Edward kept replaying Dumbledore's words—the Stone that granted eternal life had melted into Cohen's body and then disappeared…
Dumbledore's point was clear: the Stone's magic couldn't just vanish. If it wasn't in Cohen's body, his soul must've absorbed it—
Meaning Cohen's soul was still here…
Could Cohen hear them?