"?"
A big question mark hung on Lupin's face.
"That's what you're thinking about?"
"What else would it be?" Cohen said. "You're a professor! Imagine if a teacher handed out rewards to every student except you—wouldn't that sting?"
"The chocolate's not the point, and you don't need it to recover from Dementor side effects," Lupin said, adjusting his expression to something more serious. "What just happened between you and those Dementors? Why were they trying to drag you off? And… why did my Patronus Charm hurt you?"
"It didn't really hurt me," Cohen said. "Mostly just a smack to the back of the head that left me a little dizzy. If you weren't my parents' old classmate, I'd totally play the victim here. As for why they tried to drag me off…"
Lupin stared at him intently.
"They thought the wizards had locked me up," Cohen said. "And it looked like they weren't letting me go—especially when you whacked me with that Patronus. They were ticked."
"So… you're one of them?" Lupin drew his wand. There were still plenty of students on the train, and if this "Dementor disguised as a human" suddenly went berserk, he'd need to protect them.
"Sort of, partly," Cohen said, raising his own wand. He wasn't thrilled about taking another Patronus hit for no reason. If Lupin tried that spell again, Cohen would just have to counter with his own Dementor-style Patronus.
"Then why didn't they attack?" Lupin asked cautiously. He couldn't figure out why Cohen was being so upfront. Didn't he realize what being a "Dementor" implied? Or did he just not care if his secret got out?
"Dead men don't spill secrets," Lupin thought, already bracing himself for the possibility of Cohen turning hostile.
"Because I told them you guys are my friends," Cohen said casually. "I couldn't just sit there and watch Harry and the others get their souls sucked out and turn into walking husks, could I?"
"What's your goal?" Lupin pressed warily.
"Isn't that my goal?" Cohen shot back. "Who'd just stand by and let their friends die?"
"Can Dementors even understand friendship?" Lupin frowned.
"Well, I do," Cohen said. "And Professor Dumbledore thinks so too, or he'd have kicked me out of Hogwarts ages ago."
"Dumbledore would let a Dementor enroll?" Lupin asked, unease creeping into his voice.
"Dumbledore would let a werewolf enroll?" Cohen fired back without missing a beat. "No discriminating against Dementors—or I'll rally the class to start picking on werewolves."
"How do you know…" Lupin trailed off.
"My parents told me," Cohen said matter-of-factly. "I even asked them why we never saw 'Remus Lupin' when we visited. Look, I'm not trying to hurt your feelings—it's just that you started the prejudice thing first…"
"…"
"…"
"Fine, let's call it even," Cohen wrapped up. "I won't tell anyone about the werewolf stuff, and you don't tell anyone I'm a Dementor. If you want more details, go ask Dumbledore later. Right now, I need to go change into my uniform—"
Lupin agreed. Compared to Cohen's Dementor identity getting out, his own werewolf secret was far riskier.
A Dementor's identity was hard to prove (no one's ever heard of one turning human), but a werewolf? One full moon, and the truth would be out. Parents would lose it if they knew—he'd be out of a teaching job in no time. No one wants a werewolf teaching their kids.
"Oh, one more thing," Cohen said, turning back just as he was about to leave.
"What?" Lupin asked.
"You're really not gonna make it up to me with some chocolate?" Cohen asked earnestly. "I could wave it in front of Harry and the others and brag that mine's the biggest."
"Are you always like this…?" Lupin sighed, digging an unopened bar out of his pocket.
"Faster, bigger, stronger," Cohen said. "Kids love showing off."
Not long after Cohen returned to the compartment, Lupin came back too.
The train pulled into the station, and they piled into the carriages to head to school. The Thestrals, as usual, tried to lick Cohen's face when he got close. Ever since he brought back that lost baby Thestral last year, they'd taken an extra liking to him.
At the Hogwarts entrance hall, McGonagall called Harry and Hermione away—Harry for fainting on the train, and Hermione for her Time-Turner application.
Cohen was itching to study the Hour-Reversal Charm on that Time-Turner—wondering if Hermione would let him borrow it. If he applied for one himself, even if McGonagall said yes, the Ministry would never go for it.
They'd have to be Imperiused by Cohen to hand a Time-Turner over to a dark magical creature who'd killed over three hundred people by age one.
"Can't believe this time last year I was in Dad's car," Ron said to Cohen during the Sorting Ceremony. "Feels like it was just yesterday."
"Can't believe we've been through so much these past two years and none of us got expelled," Cohen replied. "Feels like it was just yesterday."
After the Sorting, Harry and Hermione hurried back into the Great Hall.
Dumbledore looked as lively as ever, standing up from his seat, his silver beard glinting in the candlelight.
"Welcome! Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts! I've got a few things to say, one of them pretty serious, so I'll get it out of the way before you all dig into the feast and your brains turn to mush…"
"Our school's currently hosting some Dementors from Azkaban, sent by the Ministry on official business. You probably already know that, since they searched the Hogwarts Express."
Dumbledore wasn't thrilled about it—Cohen could hear a chill in his tone.
As he explained the Dementors' dangers and urged students "not to give them any reason to harm you," Dumbledore glanced toward the Gryffindor table.
"He's not looking at me, right?" Cohen muttered uncertainly.
"You'd better not go near them, Cohen!" Hermione said, thinking he might be reckless enough to try. "It's too dangerous."
"True," Cohen agreed.
The real danger might be the Dementors grabbing a few people to feed him, worried he'd go hungry.