"Mass-producing that thing would kill him..." Cohen said with admiration. "You two had better be careful my mum doesn't come after you."
"Of course, we're not talking about that scale," said Fred.
"And we'll be the first to test them," said George.
"Then we'll make a huge success of it together," Fred said in a low voice.
"And a new dynasty, is that it?" Cohen said.
"That's the plan," the two said happily, then ducked into the common room to wait for their volunteers.
After Fred and George left, Harry said with a note of awe in his voice, "They are really good at making money."
"It's just a few little tricks. Professor Norton's tabletop game is clearly more educationally significant," Hermione said.
"Little tricks?" Ron's eyes widened. "Hermione, are you kidding me? It's only been a month of school, and they've already made over forty Galleons with their Skiving Snackboxes and other contraptions! And that's after paying the volunteers!"
"It's very necessary to have more fun when you're under a lot of pressure," Cohen said with a nod.
It was always necessary to have more fun, no matter when.
Build high walls, store up grain, and bide your time.
Pure Imperial philosophy.
After heading back to the dorm for a nap, Cohen would get to work on something a bit more "alchemical."
Sunday morning, in the Room of Requirement.
The Earl, having not yet seen his wife return, was following Cohen around like a little shadow, looking utterly miserable.
When he saw Cohen pull that talking toilet out of the trunk again—
"You're not planning to breed it, are you?" the Earl asked, tilting his head.
"Are you daft?" Cohen asked in a very academic tone. "It's a toilet. Toilets don't have... wait, I have an idea."
"Stop with your wicked ideas," the Earl said, stopping him immediately, as if he'd had a premonition.
"Am I going to become a human?" the toilet said mournfully. "No, please! I want to be a toilet forever!"
"To find you a companion, I'll definitely need to add a reproductive organ," Cohen said imperiously. "I won't allow my toilet to have a worse life than other toilets."
"In what way does your toilet have a worse life than other toilets!" the Earl shrieked. "And you never even use it!"
"That's because the last talking toilet was a bit too gross," Cohen said righteously. "I originally planned to use it as part of the home's defenses—but now that I think about it, just spraying a burglar with waste is too gentle. I need something a bit more violent."
"I know you might be in a bad mood lately, or that something unpleasant happened," the Earl said. "But you don't need to violate my mind like this."
"You chose to follow me," Cohen said, raising an eyebrow.
Cohen had an extremely strong sense of self-management and hands-on ability.
This time, without the guidance of Nicolas Flamel, Cohen himself created an astonishing toilet attachment.
"I have no words. I think I've gotten used to this sudden craziness," the Earl said, covering his eyes with his wings.
"It's done. Try moving it," Cohen said to the toilet.
"Hmm... what is this..." the toilet awkwardly moved its new, long, silvery, metallic appendage.
"I think I need to find a Dark Wizard to try this out on," Cohen said proudly, looking at his masterpiece.
The Earl couldn't take it anymore and moved his wing to peek.
"Oh, for goodness sake, did I steal God's wife or something, that he would do this to me!"
"Is it just a mechanical arm?" the toilet asked with innocent curiosity.
"I added some special little features to it," Cohen said, giving a crooked smile. "Try the first-gear flush button."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!!!"
Immediately, the entire room was bathed in colorful, party-light-like glows.
"..." The Earl seemed to have lost the ability to speak.
"It glows. Pretty cool, right?" Cohen said. "And it's all different colors."
"He's lost it, he's absolutely lost it..." the Earl mumbled. "You've gone mad because your dad's successful—it's too much happiness—I need to go find a Dementor... wait, you bloody are one—"
"So it just glows?" the toilet asked, still very curious.
"You're underestimating me," Cohen said. "Try the second-gear flush."
Poof!
A burst of flame that almost scorched the ceiling leaped from the appendage.
"Bloody hell!" the toilet exclaimed.
"And the electric motor mode—try that one—"
"Enough!" the Earl shrieked. "You didn't come here today just to build that toilet a bloody wanker, did you?"
"You just reminded me," Cohen said, slapping his forehead.
"I was originally going to make a slate that could write and communicate with that Carlton Grey in real time."
"I don't see any common ground between a wanker and a slate," the Earl said.
"It's your fault," Cohen immediately put the blame on the Earl. "You were the one who had to bring up finding the toilet a companion, and then I had a flash of inspiration—"
"You were the one who had to get the toilet out in the first place!" the Earl retorted. "What kind of research requires you to pull out this abomination of a toilet?"
"I needed to re-copy his verbal alchemy symbols, because I forgot them," Cohen said, making perfect sense. "Re-deriving them would take a lot of time."
"You're not just limited to writing to that Dark Wizard now; you want to start a video chat, is that it?" the Earl said, raising his head. "You little Dementor in heat."
"First, Dementors don't go into heat," Cohen said, holding up a finger. "Second, I don't like people."
"You don't secretly like owls, do you?" the Earl said, horrified, covering his backside.
"I see you want a titanium rod, too, is that it?" Cohen asked with a smile.
The Earl went silent.
It was obvious that if a bird were to be fitted with that thing, it would be sentenced to a life of celibacy.
Researching a slate that could transmit writing in real-time wasn't too difficult, as Cohen had already learned the Synchronous Change Charm.
The only problem was the distance; this kind of spell generally only works for real-time changes within a one-mile radius, which meant it was more or less an "online chat" for within Hogwarts.
But there was already a precedent: the Dark Mark that Voldemort branded onto his Death Eaters' arms.
So, Cohen decided he'd ask Voldemort to teach him.
"You're the first person I've ever seen write to Voldemort at a time like this just to learn how to brand the Dark Mark," the Earl said.
"This is called a pure and noble thirst for knowledge," Cohen said. "If I have the answers, why would I try to figure it out myself? That's just being a fool, isn't it? I don't have to spend time studying for some exams anyway..."