Once the train pulled in, Cohen and Luna went their separate ways.
First-years had to row across the lake with Hagrid, while second-years and up took the carriages.
Cohen ran into Hermione on the way to the carriages.
"Cohen! Have you seen Harry and Ron?!" she asked, practically vibrating with worry. "I saw a car flying in the sky through the window—I didn't even dare look for them on the train. They didn't come to school in *that*, did they? That's illegal—cars are Muggle things…"
"You're probably right," Cohen said with a nod. "It's Mr. Weasley's car. I'd bet Harry and Ron'll show up at the castle a little late."
"How could they *do* that?!" Hermione said, exasperated. "They could get expelled—or even arrested! I'm pretty sure the Ministry has rules—wait, isn't Mr. Weasley the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office? Does that mean…"
"Means Mr. Weasley's in for a rough time," Cohen finished. "But flying a car to school? Pretty badass. That kind of attention-grabbing vibe…"
"Boys…" Hermione sighed.
She and Cohen picked a carriage at the crossroads.
To most people, Hogwarts carriages looked self-driving. Hermione clearly thought so too.
"Cohen, what're you staring at?" she asked, puzzled, as he locked eyes with… nothing—like there was actually a horse up front.
Cohen could see the creatures pulling the carriage. Dragon-like faces, bat-like wings, skeletal frames.
Thestrals. Only people who'd seen death could see them—and Cohen had seen more than his fair share. Starting at age one, he'd "eaten" over three hundred people with his own mouth, plus two nasty Aurors last Christmas.
The Thestral pulling their carriage spotted Cohen, tilting its head like it was sizing him up. A second later, it seemed to recognize him—like he was the one it'd been looking for.
It leaned down toward him. Cohen thought it might speak—it opened its mouth—but Thestrals weren't supposed to talk…
*Slurp—*
It stuck out its tongue, aiming for Cohen's cheek. He got a Peter Parker-level tingle the instant that slimy black tongue appeared and dodged just in time.
"Holy—!" Cohen jumped back from the freaky thing.
What, had Hagrid already hooked Thestrals up with unicorns or something? Even a unicorn-Thestral combo couldn't spawn a nightmare like Ally!
His retreat made the Thestral paw the dirt nervously, letting out a shrill cry. Cohen was pretty sure it was flirting—this was a *female* Thestral.
Damn, was this vibe getting *too* wild?
He bolted back to the carriage, thankful the thing didn't snap its reins and charge after him.
"Did I just hear something screech? What'd you see?" Hermione asked, spooked.
"Thestrals. Magical creatures," Cohen explained. "Like winged horses. They're invisible unless you've seen death."
"Death—" Hermione started to ask why Cohen could see them, but she cut herself off.
Death wasn't a casual topic. She assumed he'd lost someone close—prying would be too cruel.
The carriage rattled toward the castle. Their luggage had already been whisked off to the dorms by house-elves. Besides his trunk, Cohen's dragon-hide suitcase—yep, the one with Norbert—had a "Cohen Norton" tag slapped on it.
By the time the Sorting started, there was still no sign of Harry or Ron, which only cranked Hermione's anxiety higher. ("What if they crashed?" she fretted. "Or hit a plane…")
"Relax, they're here," Cohen said, sipping juice he'd brought along. The no-food-till-after-the-Sorting rule was dumb—watching other people get Sorted wasn't exactly thrilling.
"How do you know?" Hermione pressed.
"Snape just left—probably to grill them. If *we* saw that car, Muggles definitely did. I bet the *Daily Prophet* rushed out an emergency afternoon edition," Cohen said, taking his time.
The Sorting hit Luna's turn. She got Ravenclaw, no surprise. Cohen watched her skip over to the Ravenclaw table, giving a little wave toward Gryffindor.
"Dumbledore and McGonagall just left too!" Hermione whispered. "They're not *actually* getting expelled, are they?"
"Expel Harry Potter?" Cohen shot her an incredulous look. "After knowing Voldemort's plotting a comeback? Dumbledore'd have to be senile to let that happen."
Even by the feast's end, Harry and Ron hadn't shown.
Word of their no-show spread fast among the students. Gryffindor's version was already close to the truth—people said they'd flown a car to school but probably got expelled.
Hermione wanted to wait for them outside the common room—and she did. After most kids had gone in, Harry and Ron finally stumbled up, looking wrecked.
"I thought you'd been expelled!" Hermione scolded them in full mom-mode. "Why would you fly here? What happened?!"
"You sound like McGonagall," Ron dodged. "What's the password?"
"It's 'hummingbird,' but that's not the point—" Hermione snapped.
"We're not expelled," Harry said, calming her down.
"Or Hermione'd be out here waiting for two ghosts tonight," Cohen teased.
"This isn't a joke, Cohen!" Hermione huffed. "They could've gotten hurt—or died!"
"We're alive," Ron groaned. "Please—I drove all afternoon, and Harry and I got beat up by a tree. I just want sleep—"
As the Fat Lady's portrait creaked open, their voices drowned in the common room's chaos.
Gryffindors swarmed Harry and Ron like they were heroes.
"Brilliant!" Lee Jordan, the loud Gryffindor guy, shouted. "Absolute legend stuff! Flying a car into the Whomping Willow—people'll talk about this for years!"
"Nice one!" some random upperclassman chimed in.
"You should've called us back for it!" Fred and George griped. "How'd we miss that idea…"
Cohen didn't stick around for the hype. Bed was calling—classes started tomorrow, and he needed to shake off vacation mode fast. Hogwarts didn't have 8 a.m.'s, but 9 a.m.'s were close enough.
Before crashing, he let the Earl out of his cage so it wouldn't fuss all night.
Not long after burrowing into his blankets, Cohen was out.
And then—another dream. That familiar feeling.
He was slithering through pipes—mossy, damp, sticky liquid everywhere, plus tiny bones. Rat bones, maybe?
A snake?
Second year… pipes… *Harry Potter*…
The Basilisk!
Wait—
Cohen jolted awake the next morning.
Was that dream real?
What the hell? He'd eaten the diary—why was the Basilisk still popping up at Hogwarts?
**(End of Chapter)**