At a quarter to ten, Cohen—having just brutally offed another field mouse—slipped into invisibility mode and stationed himself at the corner of the hallway outside the hospital wing.
Moaning Myrtle's bathroom wasn't far from here.
He wasn't sure if Colin could still use his camera to block the Basilisk's gaze, so Cohen figured he'd step in to protect the kid. The whole plan hinged on making sure no one actually died.
Otherwise, not even the heavens could save that old snake. If Harry didn't kill it, Dumbledore would. No way would Dumbledore let a Basilisk that'd just taken a life keep slithering around Hogwarts.
The potion Cohen had been tinkering with to make it resist Parseltongue commands was secondary. The real key was finding a way to shield against its deadly stare.
…
Footsteps echoed up the stairs. Peeking around the corner, Cohen spotted Colin cautiously clutching his camera, a big bag of snacks dangling from his other hand.
What a dedicated little fanboy—touching stuff.
The Basilisk was in position too. Cohen could see its soul slinking through the pipes behind the wall.
Malfoy didn't have Voldemort's guts or skill from back in the day—he wouldn't dare lead the Basilisk out himself.
*Click—*
Just as Colin was one step from the hospital wing, the wall behind him slid open.
The bricks shifted like the entrance to Diagon Alley, turning a small crack into a gaping hole. Dark green scales glinted as they moved inside.
"What—?"
Colin heard the weird noise behind him and yelped, instinctively starting to turn around.
Cohen, already right beside him, jumped in. The second before Colin could catch sight of the Basilisk, Cohen "helped" him hoist the camera up—maybe a bit too close for comfort, but no biggie.
Colin locked eyes with the Basilisk through the lens, and that one look…
Kid, your finals exemption just arrived!
[*Ding! Goodwill Points +100*]
*Hiss—*
A sizzling sound came from the camera as it burned out. The Basilisk didn't slink off—instead, it started creeping toward Colin, who was now stiff as a statue.
"Salazar's child… you're here?"
The Basilisk hissed at Cohen behind Colin, unable to see him but picking up his scent with its forked tongue.
"Get back!" Cohen whispered sharply. "We'll talk later—someone's coming soon!"
The Basilisk obediently retreated into the wall, the bricks snapping back into place.
Footsteps approached. Cohen bolted toward the other end of the hall.
"Mr. Creevey, why—"
Cohen caught Professor McGonagall's scolding from half a corridor away, but it cut off mid-sentence. She must've noticed Colin frozen solid, just like Filch.
With a startled shout, McGonagall muttered some spell—probably alerting Dumbledore.
Cohen didn't look back. He was still invisible and around a corner—no one would spot him.
The Chamber business had officially kicked off. Through the hospital wing's side wall, Cohen glimpsed Harry's soul… and another tiny one nearby—a house-elf, maybe?
Dobby was probably spilling the beans to Harry. Cohen slipped half his soul into the wall to eavesdrop on how Dobby was pitching this "terrifying, deadly evil plan."
"You're saying a student's helping Voldemort?"
Harry sat up in bed, pale as a ghost, staring at Dobby. "To bring him back?"
"Dobby can't say…"
Dobby trembled all over. "Dobby is a bad elf! Dobby is a bad elf!"
He started scrambling around, looking for something to punish himself with.
"Stop it!" Harry grabbed Dobby with his good left arm. "Who's trying to bring him back? What's this got to do with the Chamber? Tell me—"
The hospital wing door swung open. Harry quickly let go of Dobby, diving back into bed and yanking the covers up.
With a dull *pop*, Dobby vanished—Hogwarts' anti-Apparition wards didn't work on house-elves.
Bound by his master's orders, Dobby still couldn't spill anything useful. Looked like Cohen wouldn't have to bother explaining this to Harry himself.
McGonagall and Dumbledore carried petrified Colin in, setting him on the bed next to Harry, who was fake-sleeping.
"Another attack…"
Dumbledore said gravely. "This time, a student…"
---
Back in the dorm, Cohen slept like a baby.
One student netted 100 goodwill points. A hundred students? That's 10,000!
The kids got a free pass from finals, Cohen racked up rewards—it was a win-win plan. Only hitch? It wouldn't last long. Once the victim count hit three, the school would shut down.
The next day—Sunday—things were still calm. Word of Colin's disappearance only buzzed around Gryffindor Tower. Harry filled Cohen, Ron, and Hermione in on what he'd heard from Dobby the night before.
"So someone's trying to bring Voldemort back?" Cohen asked innocently. "Why does he show up every year? Is this some Hogwarts tradition?"
"Who at school would want to help him?" Hermione frowned. "That elf—Dobby—he's been trying to keep you away since summer, right?"
"No need to guess," Ron said firmly. "It's gotta be Malfoy. When Fred and I picked Harry up to go to my place, we figured that elf belonged to the Malfoys. Their family's always been tight with dark wizards. Dad says they were You-Know-Who's followers back in the day."
"No wonder Malfoy's been so quiet this term…" Harry nodded, buying Ron's theory. "He hasn't even bothered messing with us."
"What, you miss getting messed with?" Cohen's mouth twitched.
Luckily, the suspect talk didn't land on Cohen. Last term's heroics— "desperately" saving Harry—were still too dazzling. Hard to picture Harry's face when he'd see Cohen in the Chamber next time.
*Why's it always you?*
"Where you off to, Cohen?" Harry asked as Cohen got up to leave the common room.
"Gonna check on Hagrid and Norbert," Cohen said. "Also spruce up my trunk a bit. Figure if danger hits, I'll just hide in there. Least I've got a dragon to back me up."
"Genius!" Ron said, jealous. "Can I tag along with you from now on? If we run into whatever's in the Chamber, we'd have a place to bolt to…"
"You might wanna watch out for danger from another monster, Ron," Hermione cautioned. "Forgot already? Norbert's almost grown. Dragons are dangerous too. They won't petrify you—they'll just roast you."
Ron argued dragons were safer than a Gorgon (you know, the snake-haired chick from Greek myths who turns people to stone). Hermione reckoned he only thought that because he hadn't faced a full-grown, pissed-off dragon yet.
Still, they wanted to tag along to see Cohen's setup. He'd raised Norbert this long without trouble—maybe dragons weren't as scary as they thought… right?
(End of Chapter)