Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 38 It’s bad, the person who just fainted seems to be a relative

A distance of three kilometers was not a long distance for either the Earl or Cohen.

The monster and the bird flew into the clouds so that Cohen would not be seen by the wizards - the Dementors were concentrated in Azkaban, and the sudden appearance of a stray Dementor would definitely attract a group of people from the Ministry of Magic.

These days, Cohen also modified the camel hide handbag that Hagrid had given him before, so that it could hold more things - the person who invented the Untraceable Extension Charm was simply a genius.

Cohen plans to study new magic himself in the future - he feels that the magic in the wizarding world is still not modern enough, and the spells still retain the basic characteristics of the Middle Ages such as "spraying fire", "sprinkling water", and "blocking arrows".

It's like human technology has only created nails, wooden boards, and wheels, but has not put them together to form vehicles.

But these were not what Cohen needed to consider now - he and the count were almost at the manor.

All that remained of the once magnificent main house of Bock Manor were the broken brick and stone walls and scattered broken pieces of charred wooden beams, with the foundation buried deep under stones and snow.

The manor was surrounded by a circle of evergreen trees, which were cast with a Muggle-repelling charm to prevent any Muggles who were challenging their own deaths from coming into contact with it.

Even though ten years had passed, Cohen could still see traces of spells of varying depths on the ruins through his magical vision. Some of the effects left by black magic were difficult to erase even with time.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." Cohen floated above the clouds, overlooking the ruins. "These spells look like they would still kill people even after ten years."

"It's really hard to guess who cast these spells?" The count said dryly, "No wonder you hairless wizards have to place a gatekeeper here-"

"Gatekeeper? Who?"

After hearing what the Count said, Cohen looked around for the person who was "guarding" the ruins.

If it weren't for the sudden rise of smoke, Cohen would definitely not have been able to find the shadow of the house among the almost uniform colors of the woods.

Its roof was still covered in snow, and from above it looked almost as if it had merged with the snow.

The person living in the inner circle must be a wizard, isolated from the world. Maybe this wizard needs to regularly replenish the Muggle shielding spells around him - this job is either a civil servant or imprisonment.

After making sure that no one was around to see them, Cohen and the Count landed in the woods together.

"I bet you're going to take him out, I'll bet a vole."

The Count made a bet on a branch:
"You can't turn over that ruin without making any noise, so I think a bad guy like you--"

"That's called racial discrimination. Be careful or I'll spread the word that you discriminate against non-human races." Cohen raised his middle finger at the Count. "Although Dementors are not good things in theory, this doesn't affect me from being a good person. No, it's weird."

Cohen came to the door of the cabin and heard the sound of boiling water and a man groaning.

The guy inside was still humming the Scottish folk song "Loch Lomond", which was quite elegant.

"Boom boom boom——"

Hooded, Cohen knocks on the door, intent on proving himself a reasonable man to the Count.

"Who?"

The voice inside said alertly.

Then, the door of the cabin creaked open—

"Collapse!"

"Collapse!"

Cohen and the man in the house cast the spell almost at the same time, and the trust between people ended before it even began.

"Okay, you win." Cohen admitted defeat to the Count, "I started it."

The man in the room fell to the ground, frozen. Both he and Cohen's spells had actually hit each other, with the man's spell even hitting Cohen's head—because he hadn't expected the stranger who appeared at his door would be an eleven-year-old child. "He probably didn't expect the one knocking on the door would be a Dementor."

Cohen said with a hint of regret.

If he had used the Patronus Charm, he might have been able to defeat Cohen, but after falling unconscious...

Has anyone seen a Dementor knocked unconscious?

Cohen walked in and saw a thin middle-aged man lying on the ground. His clothes were old and patched, and his unkempt black hair was mixed with a lot of white.

The furnishings inside the room were simple: a small bed covered with old bedding, a wooden table against the wall with knife marks all over it, a rickety chair, and an iron pot placed on the fire.

There seemed to be some soup cooking inside. Cohen took a look and saw that it looked like rabbit - he had roasted rabbit before, so he was very familiar with it.

"Has he forgotten that he lives in a wooden house?" The count stopped at the table and tilted his head to look at the blazing fire.

A normal fire would be surrounded by a circle of stones, but this fire was simply made of a few pieces of wood. It was a miracle that the wooden floor underneath did not burn.

"Magic, it's amazing, isn't it?" Cohen said perfunctorily.

He was searching for something on the clothes of the unconscious prisoner - the reason Cohen determined that he was a prisoner was the shackles on the man's right wrist. Only prisoners would have handcuffs with half a chain left on their wrists.

Moreover, these handcuffs have magical traces similar to a positioning spell, so there is no need to speculate on this person's identity.

"You want to get your hands on a man's nipple?" the count asked Cohen in disbelief.

"If you don't want to talk, just shut up. Don't make me want to kill you." Cohen glared at the count with a terrifying look.

He had just found a large pile of things in the prisoner's coat pocket.

Many crumpled slips of paper, a broken quill, and some silver Sickles and copper Knuts.

Cohen spread all these things out on the wooden table.

“He’s really poor…”

Cohen was too embarrassed to even take the money.

Sweeping the pitiful pile of coins to the corner of the table, Cohen began to spread out the notes, flipping through them one by one to see what was written on them.

"Participating in cruel and evil black magic experiments... Participating in the trade of prohibited creatures of XXXX-level or higher danger level..."

What Cohen saw was a verdict from a long, long time ago.

"Joint punishment decision... Lifelong guarding of the ruins of Burke Manor, where many dangerous magics still remain... Wizengamot courtroom..."

The prisoner's name written on it is——

"Herbert Burke?"

Cohen turned his head to look at the prisoner lying on the ground, and then looked at the name on the verdict.

The Burke family...Burke Manor...

When Edward sent him to Diagon Alley to buy things, he said that his adoptive mother Rose's family was the "Bocks".

"No way, this guy is still my uncle?"

(End of this chapter)