But that was just Cohen's exposed anxiety for the Boggart. During the Boggart's probing of Cohen's thoughts, Cohen saw the scene he truly feared, or rather, didn't want to face.
It was Edward and Rose, the disheveled "foster father" with messy light blond hair and the meticulously dressed "foster mother" with long brown hair.
They held their wands up, their gazes towards Cohen filled with disgust and hatred, as if the person in front of them wasn't Cohen, but some monster wearing his son's skin, the one who had killed their son.
Cohen saw them angrily shouting, "You're not Cohen!" and "Give us back our son!" as they cast the Patronus Charm used to repel Dementors at Cohen.
He wasn't afraid of those things; he just didn't want to lose the only "human affection" he'd received in two lifetimes.
Of course, this scene couldn't be revealed to Lupin—if Dumbledore found out, he would likely guess that Cohen's inner self "wasn't Cohen," and Cohen didn't want his weakness exposed.
Cohen flicked his wand, and the "Dementor grabbing Harry" transformed with a snap into "Harry forcefully kissing the Dementor."
"Harry" forcefully pinned the Dementor down, took off his glasses, and leaned in to kiss the hood as if trying to suck out the Dementor's non-existent "soul."
This bizarre scene made the whole class burst into laughter—except for Harry.
"You son of a **bleep**!"
Harry almost lunged at Cohen to punch him. The feeling of being understood he had just been building up vanished in an instant.
"Look at you go!" Cohen said, stifling a laugh and backing away.
Unfortunately, Harry didn't get a chance to try it himself. The moment he stepped forward, Lupin quickly ended the practice session.
After class, everyone was discussing their Boggarts.
"I feel like he's a lot better than Professor Von Braun," Ron said excitedly. "I mean, Professor Von Braun wouldn't even give us practical lessons, but practical lessons are the most fun, aren't they?"
"He seems like a good teacher," Hermione agreed. "But I wish I'd had a chance to face that Boggart—"
"You wouldn't have liked a whole stack of zero-mark exams with 'Hermione Granger' written on them," Cohen said.
"Well, that's still better than 'Harry Rapes a Dementor.'"
Harry was full of resentment towards Cohen's transformation.
"But I really don't understand why Professor Lupin wouldn't let me face it... Does he think I'll faint again because of fear?"
Lupin's classes quickly gained the approval of most students. After all, the most normal Defense Against the Dark Arts course they'd had in the past two years was Professor Von Braun's "pure theory class."
And now, Lupin's Defense Against the Dark Arts course, which was mostly practical, was clearly more suited to the restless, itchy-fingered, fight-craving mentality of the young wizards.
The content of Divination class was also becoming increasingly mystical. No one could make any effective predictions based on this riddle-like teaching. So, Cohen gave the trio a tip: just predict tragic things, and they would get a lot of good marks on their homework—Trelawney loved hearing that stuff.
However, Hermione felt was just fooling herself. She insisted on diligently analyzing according to the textbook, but whenever she made some more positive predictions, Professor Trelawney would mention that Hermione's "Inner Eye" was very dim, negating her predictions.
In contrast, Cohen and the others were often praised by Professor Trelawney as having "bright Inner Eyes" and being "very talented."
This infuriated Hermione.
"Some classes are just for getting good grades," Cohen said to Hermione earnestly. "It'll look good on your graduation transcript..."
"If a class doesn't have any practical use, then what's the point of offering it?" Hermione said stubbornly. "Is it just to provide a paying job for people who study this meaningless subject?"
"Isn't it?" Cohen raised an eyebrow.
Harry and Ron didn't have any objections. Divination had now become the easiest class to breeze through. The three of them would desperately predict each other's gruesome deaths in every class, competing to see whose death was the most original.
Scabbers was still being "hunted" by Crookshanks, but a part-Kneazle cat certainly couldn't kill an Animagus wizard. Cohen had already given Scabbers the potion, and Scabbers had nowhere to escape within a year, so Cohen wasn't worried about him running away.
The frequency of conflict between Ron and Hermione was also increasing. The two of them had started barely talking, especially in October, when their arguments escalated severely.
The reason was that Crookshanks had sneaked into the boys' dormitory and, while Ron was sleeping, ambushed Scabbers on the bedside table. Scabbers, frightened, had then burrowed under Ron's covers.
"That stupid cat again!" Ron waved his wand, trying to drive Crookshanks away with crackling red sparks. "Cohen, what are you laughing at!"
The newest and fastest updates are on \\[website address removed as per policy]!
"Nothing, I just suddenly thought of something funny..." Thinking of Ron's future reaction when he found out Scabbers was a bald, fat man, Cohen found it hard to hold back his laughter.
"Hermione promised she'd lock up that crazy cat!" After chasing Crookshanks away, Ron angrily locked the dormitory door. "She never listens to anyone's warnings."
However, Crookshanks's attack frequency had indeed increased significantly recently. In October alone, the number of overt attacks on Scabbers had reached twenty, more than the entire previous month.
This indicated that Black seemed to have arrived near the school and had formed a partnership with Crookshanks—Cohen remembered that the book seemed to mention Sirius praising Crookshanks for being clever and even helping him catch Peter Pettigrew.
Early the next morning, Ron went to confront Hermione aggressively. Given Ron's strong offense, Hermione, who had been enduring it for a while, finally couldn't take it anymore, and they began a full-fledged cold war.
"Should we try to make peace?" Harry asked Cohen uncertainly after breakfast, because he had a feeling that if he got involved, he would be caught in the crossfire.
"Arguing can foster feelings. Constant peace is boring," Cohen said. "Have you asked Professor McGonagall about going to Hogsmeade yet? This weekend is the first Hogsmeade weekend, you know."
"No—I was planning to ask her in Transfiguration class later," Harry said worriedly. "I hope she agrees..."
"Or find a secret passage, ask Fred and George. I remember there are a few underground passages leading to Hogsmeade—of course, it's best if you can go out without breaking school rules," Cohen said.
Anyway, Harry wouldn't be attacked by his godfather if he went out, so encouraging him to go wasn't dangerous—of course, the Dementors were still a bit of a threat to him, because the Dementors seemed quite eager to "take care" of Cohen these days.