#Divorce Will Cost You Half Your Inferi and Dementors#

"What did she have you do?"

Cohen asked, although—based on what he'd already seen from the future—the answer was pretty obvious.

"Madam Snailing told me to collect all sorts of hair... to make ingredients for hair care potions," the girl explained. "Ten Knuts for regular students, five Sickles for champions or their families. Is that enough? Now you know I'm broke—"

"Are you seriously unaware that Polyjuice Potion is a thing? Have you never wondered why champion hair is worth that much?" Cohen deadpanned.

"What's Polyjuice Potion?" she blinked at him, clearly confused.

Sometimes a single sentence was enough to leave Cohen speechless.

This was exactly why he avoided talking to people outside the plot. Half the time, he couldn't even be sure they were real humans.

—

At noon, Cohen headed to Edward's tent, just as the crew was about to leave.

Since Herbert could finally enjoy a short break from Borgin Manor, Edward and Rose had decided to take him to live on Privet Drive until July.

"I found out," Cohen said as he pulled Edward—who had volunteered to help Herbert pack—aside.

"It's a part-time job at a barber shop in Hogsmeade. Seriously shady. The owner's collecting hair from champions and their families—claims it's for making conditioner, but let's be real. That's obviously just a cover. They're clearly after us."

"Did they already get some?" Edward frowned. "I've... been losing a little hair lately, come to think of it."

"She mixed all the hair together," Cohen muttered, deep in thought. "But mine's definitely not in there—because I don't shed. So unless something went horribly wrong..."

Cohen remembered that prophecy again. If the Silver Key had Edward's hair, that bizarre future where Edward, Rose, and Herbert attacked him could actually be some genius-level trap cooked up by Silver Key's scheming.

"But something still feels off," Cohen mumbled.

If they only had Edward's... what about Rose and Herbert's hair?

They might be able to sneak into the little house next to Borgin Manor for Herbert's hair...

But for Rose's? What, were they supposed to camp in the sewers of Privet Drive?!

With the Fidelius Charm protecting Edward and Rose, Silver Key couldn't see their location—only rely on old intel.

"Should we set up a code word or something?" Edward recalled. "Back when Voldemort was at large, people used those to make sure their family hadn't been replaced—"

"I don't need one," Cohen said. "I can tell you guys apart by your souls. Polyjuice can't fake that. But if you need to verify it's me..."

"Ask a question only you'd know the answer to?" Edward suggested.

"Do you know the Killing Curse?" Cohen replied.

"...What?"

"I mean, every time we meet, you could hit me with Avada Kedavra. If I die—it's not me. If I live—it's the real me."

Before Cohen could finish his cursed logic, Edward bonked him right on the head.

"OW."

"If your mom heard that, she'd skin you alive. Think of something else," Edward snapped. "Have you forgotten everything that happened in Year One?"

"Well, I didn't die, so…" Cohen rubbed his scalp. "It is the most convincing proof—other than me and Voldemort, no one else survives the Killing Curse."

"You can't treat Avada Kedavra like it's just a mild Stunner. You need genuine killing intent to cast it. Do you think me—or your mother—could ever summon that against you?"

"I mean… could you?" Cohen thought back to the time he'd used the spell—it didn't feel that intense. Just a casual flick.

Then again, he hadn't used it on anyone yet.

"You shouldn't be this casual about it," Edward said, suddenly serious. He dropped what he was doing and dragged Cohen over to the table, forcing him into a chair.

"I don't know if you picked this up in class or read it in some forbidden book," Edward said sternly. "But the Unforgivable Curses aren't your average dark spells."

"There are plenty of spells that can kill someone. But only Avada Kedavra is an Unforgivable Curse. You know why?"

"No idea," Cohen replied obediently.

"Because it doesn't just hurt the target—it damages the caster too." Edward's voice dropped.

"When you use your heart to destroy someone else's... your heart will crack in a way that can never be repaired."

"..." For once, Cohen shut up and listened like a good kid.

"You need to understand what using that curse really means," Edward continued. "Promise me—you won't treat it like some random battle tactic. There are other ways to protect yourself and the people you love. You don't have to pick the one that breaks you."

"I got it," Cohen nodded seriously.

What Edward meant: "Don't use the Killing Curse."

What Cohen heard: "Suck out people's souls if you have to, just don't use that one. It's bad for your magical cholesterol."

He'd only just finished patching himself up using the Philosopher's Stone. He wasn't about to shatter into magic confetti again.

"I feel like you completely misunderstood me," Edward said, narrowing his eyes.

"I won't use it, I swear! Anyone who does is a low-class Dementor. The kind that ends up working Azkaban security for minimum wage," Cohen swore with absolute venom.

Edward twitched a bit—probably because of Cohen's very creative oath—but at least it was an oath.

"Fine. If someone ever pretends to be you, we'll use that line to confirm your identity…" Edward muttered, rubbing his forehead.

But Cohen didn't think it'd happen. He didn't shed hair, and his body was full of liquid curses. Not exactly "clone-friendly."

"Oh, by the way," Edward asked, suddenly curious, "how did you question that girl?"

"How else?" Cohen raised a brow. "Dragged her into the bathroom and interrogated her in secret. She's dumb as a rock though—got used and didn't even know it. I'm honestly baffled how she got into Ravenclaw\\... maybe this is what people mean by 'book-smart'?"

"Not all girls are like that," Edward consoled him. "Don't lose hope. Someday you'll find someone who's smart, beautiful, and actually likes you."

Cohen made a face that screamed, "Yeah, suuure, I'll believe it when I see it."

Marriage sounded terrifying. Imagine getting divorced and having to split custody of your Inferi and Dementors—the horror.

Wait... was that even a thing under British wizarding law?

"Are you ready, Edward?" Herbert poked his head into the tent. "Filch says we need to get moving—oh, Cohen, your Care of Magical Creatures professor wants a word. Something about his next class... You didn't lend him anything from the lab, did you? He's acting more unhinged than the researchers."

"Let me guess... you saw the Blast-Ended Skrewt." Cohen sighed. "Bit late for that warning though."