Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Holy Crap, a Talking Dementor
The shopping trip took up the whole morning. After getting everything on the list, Edward rushed Cohen back home, and by then, it was already one in the afternoon.
With less than an hour until his game time, Edward whipped up a magically enhanced lunch for Cohen in a frenzy before bolting out the door. Now, Number 5 Privet Drive was all Cohen's.
Like some mad scientist itching to run a twisted experiment, Cohen finished eating, rubbed his hands together, and headed back to his bedroom. On his desk sat that owl with the freakishly weird soul strength.
"Animagus? Blood-cursed beast? Or something else entirely?"
Cohen yanked his chair over and plopped down, leveling his gaze with the owl in its cage—"Earl."
"That'd be 'something else entirely.'"
A faintly comical male voice spilled out as Earl's hooked beak opened and closed.
???
"Holy crap, you can *talk*?!"
Cohen's eyes went wide.
Animagi couldn't speak in animal form, and blood-cursed beasts couldn't talk after transforming either—other animals' vocal cords just weren't built for human speech. Parrots aside.
"Holy crap, a talking Dementor?"
Earl tilted his head and said it with zero trace of fear, like he was trading punchlines with Cohen in a stand-up routine.
"You've got a human dad, so is your mom a Dementor or what?"
Earl kept running his beak without a filter.
"I've been around for years, and this is a first—even for a bird, this is some next-level freaky shit."
"…"
Cohen's expression shifted from shock to calm, then settled on icy indifference.
"Why're you quiet? Never seen a talking bird before?"
Earl twisted his head—already cocked 90 degrees clockwise—into a 90-degree counterclockwise tilt. On a normal owl, it'd be cute.
"No, wait, a Dementor that talks is fine, but a bird doing it is somehow fucking baffling? Or do you not even know you're a Dementor?"
"…" Cohen's face turned steely.
"Oh no, did I scare you stupid? Does your dad know the spell to cancel an 'Owl Purchase Contract'?"
"You know, a bird can't exactly wave a wand. But seeing as your dad's chill with banging a Dementor, I bet he could handle undoing a contract no problem."
"…" Cohen's forehead darkened.
"Of course, in exchange for my freedom, I could sneak into other wizard homes and swipe some Galleons for you. I'm a pro at that gig."
"Wizards always think owls are just dropping off letters—never suspect a bird might lift something on the way out. How's thirty Galleons sound? Thirty Galleons for the rest of my free bird life—"
"Hold up, I need a breather."
Cohen's face froze as he stiffly got up, walked out of the room, and slammed the door shut.
Was it too late to return this thing? This wasn't a knockoff—it was a full-on cursed item.
What kind of owl drops an "f-bomb" every few seconds and spews crude jokes nonstop?!
Even eating its soul would leave a bad taste in Cohen's mouth!
But that "stealing Galleons from wizard homes" idea did sound kinda tempting…
Thing is, this owl had already clocked Cohen as a Dementor. Would it blab?
He'd wandered Diagon Alley all morning, and not one person had yelled, "Dementor's here, run for it!" or "Dementor alert—wands out, cast *Patronus*, think of your happiest memory, and blast this monster with a solid Patronus!"
Not that most wizards could pull off a high-level spell like *Patronus* anyway.
Knowing Dumbledore's style, he'd probably just quietly accepted Cohen, this half-Dementor, living his life. The paranoid Ministry, on the other hand, likely had no clue—otherwise Cohen wouldn't be hopping around Muggle streets like this.
Keeping his identity under wraps was crucial early on, at least until his soul strength outclassed most wizards.
And this loudmouthed, identity-sniffing owl was clearly a loose cannon.
But a talking owl was also pretty badass!
Cohen was torn. He decided to give the bird one shot at survival.
*Snap—*
Cohen marched back in and sat down again.
"Hoo-hoo—"
"Alright, let's clear this up. First off, my mom's not a Dementor, and my dad's not some tragic weirdo—"
"Who's 'Tragic Weirdo'?" Earl's massive eyes radiated confusion.
"Little owls don't need to know about shady stuff like that," Cohen shot back, refusing to explain. "Back to the point—my parents are normal. I'm adopted. And—"
He stressed the "and" hard.
"You know Dumbledore, right?"
"Yeah, last time I dropped off mail for some kid wizard at Hogwarts, he was up in his tower staring at a photo of some young guy. Wanna know the guy's name? Three Galleons—"
"Grindelwald. Next question—no, stop derailing!" Cohen warned.
"You asked me first!" Earl squawked indignantly. "You're such an unreasonable little—"
Cohen licked his lips on purpose, and Earl cut off mid-rant like he'd choked on an owl pellet.
"Go on," Earl said dryly.
"Dumbledore specifically placed me with this family to raise me, got it?" Cohen asked.
"Uh-huh?" Earl pecked at his wing. "The way you're asking makes it sound like you're about to pluck my feathers one by one while going, 'You cool with that?' 'You cool with that?'—"
"You cool with that?" Cohen asked, dead serious. "I'm all about democracy. If you're not, I'll just eat your soul."
"You didn't even say what I'm supposed to agree to!" Earl snapped, biting off one of his own feathers in a fit. "Or—wait, I bet you don't even know—owls don't get a say in this crap!"
"It's you wizards and your damn 'Owl Purchase Contract'! I swear, once I've eaten every last field mouse out there, I'm coming for you lot—gonna chow down on every one of you exploitative jerks—"
"Hold on, so you're saying… you *have* to follow my orders, right?" Cohen was starting to piece together the secret buried in Earl's rant.
"What, you think every owl's happy to be bribed into a lifetime of slavery with a handful of owl treats no heavier than your tiny brain?" Earl spat venomously.
"Let me double-check. I'm a little paranoid," Cohen said, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh yeah, I'm sure you're terrified of an owl attack—since I've totally got a wand stashed somewhere. Every time a wizard buys me, I'll just yell *'Avada Kedavra'*—and then you'll realize, oh wait, I'm a freaking *owl*! I don't have hands to hold a wand!"
(End of Chapter)