Professor Norton's lesson was a smashing success.
After suffering through Umbridge's dreadful, theory-only classes that forbade them from practicing any defensive magic, this hands-on lesson from Professor Norton—where they learned hex-breaking and weren't even assigned homework—was like a dream. It was a stark contrast, truly a change from the Dementor-infested halls of Azkaban to the cozy common rooms of Hogwarts.
"I really hope he teaches us forever," Dean said to Cohen as they were leaving class. "It's so easy and we actually learn things. You don't think your dad could teach for a few more years, do you?"
"You can just say you want to jinx him to death," Cohen grumbled. "Everyone knows that a jinx follows the Defence Against the Dark Arts post."
Right now, Edward's focus was on his campaign to become the Minister for Magic, not on being the next one-and-done Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts.
"Oh, no, I didn't mean that at all—" Dean stammered, horrified, trying to explain. "I—"
"It's fine, I get it. I had the same thought for a second there," Cohen muttered, his eyes on Edward, who was busy tidying up the white mice and seemed to be heading in their direction.
There was no time to waste. He had to make a quick escape before Edward could once again embarrass him with a public display of "fatherly affection."
But he was too late. Edward, sensing Cohen's attempt to flee, abandoned the mice and sprinted to the back of the classroom.
"Cohen, do you have a class this afternoon?" Edward asked, grabbing Cohen just as he reached the back door.
"One for Astronomy," Cohen said immediately.
"Don't lie to me, Astronomy is a night class," Edward said, shaking his head. "Remember to drink your milk. That one bottle hasn't even been touched all lesson—Harry, you all go on ahead. Cohen, you're coming with me for a bit."
Harry and the others shot Cohen a strange look, filled with amusement, before making their escape.
Trapped, Cohen had no choice but to wait in the empty classroom while Edward finished cleaning up the white mice.
"Why are you avoiding me?" Edward asked, genuinely perplexed. "I thought you'd be happy about me teaching here."
"I'm not avoiding you, Professor Norton," Cohen said stiffly.
"No need to call me Professor Norton when we're alone, Mr. Norton," Edward said, pouting a bit.
"And you don't need to call me Mr. Norton, Professor Norton," Cohen shot back.
"Are we going to keep this up all day? I remember you used to love playing this game when you were little," Edward sighed. "Honestly, now you've grown up, you've become so temperamental..."
"I am not temperamental! I've been furious the entire time!" Cohen retorted. "Just you wait until you're in a nursing home. I'll come visit all the time with a carton of milk and force you to drink it right in front of all the other old wizards and witches so they can all laugh and say, 'Aww, Edward, your son loves you so much!'"
"Oh, so that's what this is about, is it?" Edward started to laugh before quickly schooling his features.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you? Don't pretend—I saw you smile!" Cohen accused. "That's so sly! I'm going to write to Mum and tell her everything—"
"Whoa, hold on, now, don't do that!" Edward interrupted immediately. "Don't tell your mother. I won't do it again, I promise... I just thought it was rather funny, you know? Your grandmother used to do the same thing to me."
"So the evil gene is passed down through generations, then," Cohen muttered.
"Alright, alright, let's talk about something serious," Edward said. "We'll discuss it in the loo."
"You sound like some shady English wizard trying to give a student special treatment," Cohen said.
"Well, I am English, and what do you mean by 'special treatment'?" Edward said, pretending to be angry as he tapped Cohen's head. "See? I told you it was important that I came to Hogwarts. Where are you learning all these strange words?"
"You have an office, and you want to go to a bathroom?" Cohen asked.
"That's because I haven't finished checking the office," Edward explained. "There could still be one of Fudge's spies hiding in there."
---
Not long after, Cohen and Edward had taken over a boys' bathroom on the second-floor corridor and locked the door.
"This is getting really weird," Cohen said.
"Don't interrupt," Edward said, his expression turning a bit more serious. "Was it you who dealt with Dolores Umbridge?"
"Are you with the Ministry now?" Cohen's eyes widened.
"You can't just move someone's soul to another body just because you don't like them," Edward said, his tone very stern and parental, as if he knew all about it. "Cohen, this is what I've always worried about..."
"She was the one who cast the Cruciatus Curse and the Killing Curse on me first," Cohen said, holding his head.
"So, was her death particularly gruesome?" Edward's attitude immediately shifted. "When your mother told me about it, I knew something wasn't right. Now it all makes sense..."
"If dying as a human-turned-sow in a pack of horny boars counts as 'gruesome,' then yes, it was 'gruesome,'" Cohen said. "You didn't really come here just to ask me about this, did you? The Earl could have told you all about it himself."
"Of course not! I was worried about you at school, so I wrote to Dumbledore," Edward said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Just be normal," Cohen said, massaging his forehead.
He was more likely to believe Edward would willingly become the Minister for Magic than that he'd come to Hogwarts just to be a good father.
"Fine. I was bored staying at home and wanted to start a Dungeons & Dragons club at Hogwarts," Edward said wistfully. "After Dobby took over the housework, I couldn't just sit at home watching the telly all day, could I? Not that I'm complaining about that Fidelius Charm—it's great, the Ministry can't bother us anymore..."
"I knew it... but you just can't bring kids home, you can still go out," Cohen said. "It's not that big of a deal..."
"All the kids I got along with are off to university this year," Edward sighed. "The kids I don't know have their own little groups. An old guy like me can't just fit in..."
"Having a mid-life crisis, are we?" Cohen said.
"I doubt Dumbledore taught you that," Edward said, his lips pursed.
"I'm a bottle-dweller, you know? I was born with all sorts of knowledge—at least, that's what Nicolas Flamel said," Cohen explained matter-of-factly.
Knowing that Cohen didn't just murder people for fun, Edward breathed a sigh of relief.
And knowing that Edward's true purpose for becoming a professor was to sabotage Dumbledore's school's reputation, Cohen breathed a sigh of relief as well.
"So... you want to be my ringer?" Edward asked hopefully. "I'm going to mention starting the club to your class at the end of the next lesson, and you can be the first to join..."
"No—"
Cohen's initial thought was to refuse. It would surely lead to more embarrassment. But when he saw the hopeful look in Edward's eyes, he finally gave in.