The door to their compartment slid shut behind the last person to step in, but what happened next made everyone—except Cohen and Lupin—gasp in shock.
*Crack—*
A bony, rotting hand slipped through the gap in the door, slowly prying it open. A wave of icy air rushed in from outside. No one made a sound—they felt like their souls had frozen solid.
A towering figure in a cloak loomed in the doorway, its face hidden deep within the hood. Tatters of fabric floated around it in the air, making it look less like a creature of this world and more like something unearthly.
Cohen felt a strange sense of homecoming—no, more like "home" had come to him.
**[Come out quick]**
The Dementor glided toward Cohen, reaching out a skeletal hand as if to kindly tug him away from the compartment.
Lupin jumped into action, casting a Patronus Charm to stop it from getting closer. To him, it looked like the Dementor was about to grab Cohen and devour his soul.
"Hey, wait—"
Cohen tried to intervene, but Lupin's unshaped Patronus—a shimmering blur—slammed toward him and the Dementor.
Normally, a Patronus would pass right through a person, only affecting Dementors.
But to Lupin's disbelief, Cohen blocked it—and let out a yelp.
"Ow!" Cohen clutched the back of his head, wincing in pain.
"What the—" Lupin stared at Cohen, then at his wand, dumbfounded.
Now he wasn't so sure of himself. That *was* a Patronus Charm, right? Since when did it hit people like that?
Even weirder, the Dementor didn't seem to faze Cohen at all.
If there was a being immune to a Dementor's gloom but vulnerable to a Patronus… that didn't add up. This kid couldn't be a Dementor—Dementors can't take human form…
Still, Lupin held back, cautious. But his accidental hit on Cohen had annoyed the Dementor that was trying to whisk him away.
More Dementors started gathering, draining the compartment of every shred of positivity. The students inside were already slipping into nightmare-fueled hallucinations.
**[You hurt?]**
It was even checking on him—
**[Stop, stop, I'm not caught]**
Cohen rubbed his head and sent a mental message to the Dementors. Five or six had clustered outside the compartment now, and they never dialed back their emotion-sucking aura. If they lingered much longer, these sheltered kids would pass out from sheer terror.
**[These are…]**
Cohen wasn't sure how to explain "friends" or "allies" to them. Dementors only saw things as food, non-food, or food that reliably feeds them.
**[Your food?]**
The one holding Cohen's arm guessed.
**[Yeah, yeah, my food]**, Cohen replied. **[I'm at that age where I need to bulk up…]**
**[Too small… eat more…]**, another Dementor chimed in.
**[Eat more…]**, the group urged him. **[Lots of food here, we won't take it]**
**[We're hunting escaped food…]**, one added, clearly asking if Cohen had seen Sirius Black. **[Weak, tasty food…]**
Weak and tasty? Cohen suddenly got it—why Dementors kept prisoners around to siphon emotions instead of just gobbling their souls in one go. Emotions regenerate, sure, but also, wizards drained of joy over years don't have the strength to fight back.
Like a soda can that refills itself: pop the tab and drink, but an unopened one takes effort to crack.
**[He's not on the train, look somewhere else]**
After Cohen shooed them off, the air in the compartment warmed up, and Ron and the others started shaking off their horrific visions.
But Harry wasn't like them—he was sprawled on the floor, out cold.
"Harry!"
Ron snapped out of it and dragged Harry up from the ground.
"What's wrong with Harry—" Seamus asked, worried.
"He's passed out, I think—" Ginny said.
The compartment door slid open again—Hermione was back.
"It was a Dementor sweep—can you believe the Ministry let those things near us? It's way too dangerous!" she said, still rattled. "What's wrong with Harry?"
"They hit him harder than most," Lupin said thoughtfully. But his real focus was on Cohen. The kid had just stood there, doing nothing, and the Dementors had left.
All signs pointed to some weird connection between Cohen and those creatures…
Lupin dug out a big slab of chocolate and broke it up for everyone—except Cohen.
"Eat it, it'll help," Lupin said. "Give Harry a piece when he wakes up. I need to talk to the driver—excuse me. Cohen, can you come with me? I've got a few things to check with you."
"What's up?" Ron asked, munching on his chocolate and glancing at Lupin and Cohen, confused.
They'd all been lost in their own "real-life nightmares," blind to everything, though they vaguely remembered Cohen's pained yelp.
"Probably about my parents," Cohen said, covering for Lupin. "I just remembered—my mom and dad were classmates with Professor Lupin. Edward and Rose—they mentioned him over the summer…"
"Right," Lupin said. "Let's go, Cohen."
With that, he pulled Cohen out of the compartment.
But near the train's front, in an empty stretch of corridor, Lupin stopped and turned to Cohen, his expression serious.
"You're Edward and Rose's kid?" he asked, skepticism creeping in.
"I thought you'd say, 'I held you when you were a baby,'" Cohen said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm Cohen Norton—adopted by Edward and Rose twelve years ago. You didn't know?"
"I—" Lupin faltered, then went quiet.
After a moment, he seemed to settle on an explanation.
"Twelve years ago, I started drifting from the wizarding world," he said carefully. "Unless there's a real need, I don't usually reach out to old friends…"
Cohen knew why.
After the Wizarding War, Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix had disbanded for a while, and Lupin had slipped back into the solitary life of a "normal werewolf wizard."
What puzzled Cohen, though, was why Dumbledore hadn't clued Lupin in about him beforehand.
Old man邓 keeping secrets that tight? Impressive…
"So you didn't drag me out here to hand me that chocolate you skipped me on," Cohen said. "Everyone else got some—I didn't. Kinda stings, honestly."
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