After waking up, Cohen used the free time in the morning—since he didn't have class—to take the box back to the Room of Requirement.
"I need a private space for studying giant creatures," he said to the room.
Now, whenever he met with Sisoko, he wouldn't have to blindfold the Count. Plus, Cohen would likely need to study the basilisk frequently in the coming days, so this setup would come in handy.
"What happened to you last night?"
The Count watched as Cohen fiddled with the room, curiosity evident in his voice.
"What did those people do to you? **?**? Or was it ***?"
"You realize everything you just said would be censored even in a movie, right?" Cohen replied. "Besides, I don't think anyone would have the guts to mess with a Dementor—unless they did something …"
As he spoke, Cohen briefly transformed into his Dementor form.
"I've recently made some new discoveries about human depravity," the Count remarked. "I heard some people even go after sheep…"
"The Silver Key cultists got eaten by Sisoko," Cohen said matter-of-factly.
Carrying the box, he stepped into the newly formed room, then quickly poked his head back out.
"Do *not* peek inside. There are two basilisks in here now, and if you look, you're dead."
"I'm not suicidal—wait, what?! Two?!" The Count's eyes widened in shock. "I thought the old basilisk couldn't be moved?"
"It's not the old one. I found a baby basilisk and decided to raise a little sister for fun," Cohen explained. "Plus, the little one's actually kinda cute."
"This world is doomed," the Count declared. "You heard it from me first."
Whether or not the world was doomed wasn't for an owl to decide, but whether the old basilisk could escape its destined death—well, that was up to Cohen.
The new room matched Cohen's vision perfectly. There was a workbench against the wall, and the rest of the space was left open for the "large creatures" to move around freely.
"Sisoko, come on out!"
Cohen opened the box and hissed inside.
A moment later, Sisoko slithered out, with the baby basilisk still coiled around its head, making it look like it was wearing a lump of green goo as a hat.
The little snake mumbled sluggishly.
Judging by the bulge in its belly, it had eaten a lamb. Basilisks seemed to digest food much faster than regular snakes.
Not just the little one—Sisoko's belly, which had been bloated from eating all those cultists the night before, had already shrunk back down.
"I caught a lamb for it," Sisoko explained to Cohen. "Don't worry—I took it while the flock was asleep. The others are fine… Probably. One might have died, but I'm not sure if it was frozen in fear or actually dead when I left."
"As long as they're not all dead," Cohen said, patting the baby basilisk's head. Its scales were still a bit soft, likely because it had only just hatched last night. "Saves me a trip to restock lambs. Even Scotland's biggest farms can't sustain me stealing thousands every year…"
"But good news for you guys," Cohen added. "I'm working on a way to make special glasses that block the effects of the basilisk's deadly gaze—so you won't have to constantly worry about killing someone by accident."
"Really?" Sisoko perked up. "So that means…"
"You can interact with other animals now—" ("I can finally find a mate?!")
Cohen and Sisoko spoke at the same time.
"Look at you. You're either hungry or horny—do you have *any* ambitions in life?" Cohen scolded. "You're a three-hundred-year-old basilisk! Is your ultimate dream really just to eat your fill and snuggle up with a female snake?"
"Well, I *did* just eat," Sisoko replied smugly. "So now I can spend the whole day with—"
"Back to the Chamber with you!" Cohen covered his face, cutting him off before the conversation turned into *Cohen and His Animal Friends*. "And while you're there, talk to the old basilisk about breaking free from Parseltongue control."
As Cohen explained his recent research on basilisk blood, the Room of Requirement opened a large tunnel in the wall, leading back into Hogwarts' underground passageways.
Sisoko listened carefully, then fell silent for a moment.
"So you want me to tell him that injecting the serum *might not work*?" he asked hesitantly.
"No, I want you to tell him that using it will *probably* kill him. *Maybe* he'll survive," Cohen clarified. "The best-case scenario is that everything goes perfectly—he turns out like you and uses the chaotic magic from those experimental potions to break free from Slytherin's control spell and finally be free."
"But the odds are slim," Cohen continued. "With that many different potions mixed into your bloodstream, the fact that you're even alive is a miracle. And miracles aren't easy to replicate."
"…But if he does nothing, he'll be killed anyway… by that kid you mentioned…" Sisoko's usual lazy demeanor vanished, replaced by a solemn expression.
He straightened up slightly, and just like that, he was already towering over Cohen. In this moment, he truly looked like a basilisk.
"Not necessarily. Voldemort's ultimate goal is to kill Harry Potter. If I help him kill Harry first, then the old basilisk won't have to fight him at all," Cohen said. "But—"
"Don't be silly," Sissoko muttered, lowering his head. "He'll choose the first option—at least there's some hope."
"I did my best to get the potion ratio just right," Cohen said. "And cheer up, this is a fairy tale—it's not supposed to have a bad ending."
"Let's hope so…" Sissoko said as he led the little basilisk into the tunnel. "I actually kind of like that country bumpkin. He's the first of my kind I've ever met—besides myself, I mean. It felt the same as when I met you—"
"This is the second time. Last time, I didn't take you with me when I left. This time, I can't save him either."
Sissoko let out a long, weary sigh.
"I never manage to do anything right…"
"Goodbye, Dad…" The little basilisk didn't understand what was happening. It just mimicked Sissoko's somber tone as it said farewell to Cohen.
"I am NOT your dad!" Cohen snapped, frustrated.
How could three creatures end up tangled in relationships that simultaneously included "father and son," "father and daughter," "parents," "mother and daughter," and "siblings" all at once?!
This was too chaotic. With just two words, the little basilisk had completely shattered both Cohen and Sissoko's understanding of the world.
After sending the basilisk back into the pipes, Cohen glanced at the notes Dumbledore had given him.
There were no direct instructions on how to create an object capable of reflecting a basilisk's gaze. However, Dumbledore had written extensively about the theory of reflective magic runes, all backed by proven experiments.
First, he needed a rune-bearing medium where he could carve the inscriptions. Then, he'd have to experiment with materials like the blood of a Re'em—a rare, golden-furred giant ox—and fire dragon fat until the reflection rune actually took effect.
Getting dragon parts wouldn't be a problem—Cohen had Norbert. A little suffering on the dragon's part wouldn't hurt.
As for the Re'em… he'd probably have to track down Mr. Newt Scamander. No way Newt would turn down the chance to safely see a basilisk face-to-face once the job was done.
After all, Newt wasn't a Parselmouth, so he had no way of interacting with a creature that could kill with a single glance.
And then, of course, he'd need a test subject to see if the rune actually worked…
"Hey, Count?" Cohen peeked out of the lab.
"I have a bad feeling about this…" The Count instinctively took a step back toward the window.
"A powerful owl like you wouldn't have any trouble catching a few dozen field mice, right?" Cohen said, buttering him up.