Chapter 3: I Have Fallen Apart

The birthday party was, in fact, somewhat subdued.

Dudley hadn’t come, and from next door, the sounds of the Dursley family’s quarrels could still be heard. Cohen understood the reason all too well.

Because there was no real friendship between Dudley and Cohen — especially since Cohen had invited Harry, which to Dudley seemed like a gathering of oddballs. If he attended such a party, he was certain his own close friends would mock him mercilessly.

And Mr. Dursley’s angry outbursts were surely because he didn’t want to miss the chance to leave a good impression on Cohen’s mother, Rose. Public opinion always plays an extremely crucial role in a company’s development.

Moreover, from Mr. Dursley’s perspective, the only way to prevent Harry from blowing up the Norton family’s house was to assign one of his own to keep an eye on Harry — obviously, he didn’t realize that nearly every time Harry got into trouble, it was when Dudley had bullied him first.

For Harry, this “quiet” gathering might have been the only truly “happy” moment of his entire July.

But for Cohen, tomorrow was the day to really look forward to.

Because he would finally be able to seek out more samples to confirm the strength of a normal adult wizard’s soul, and he would also receive his very first wand.

Having a wand must feel completely different from not having one. When Cohen had tried magic before, it always felt as if his energy wasn’t being applied in the right place — a wizard casting spells correctly surely wouldn’t experience such awkwardness.

After sending Harry home, Cohen returned early to his bedroom to sleep, preparing for the upcoming trip to Diagon Alley.

Which wand would choose him? Wait… wands choose the wizard, but do they contain souls? Can souls be extracted? Are they like human souls? Do they nourish the body if consumed? If I drained every wand in Ollivander’s shop, would Ollivander be angry?

His thoughts always wandered this way as he drifted from wakefulness to sleep.

Cohen began to snore softly, like an ordinary human child, so when Rose quietly opened the door and entered his room, Cohen did not stir.

Rose placed a large box of beautifully wrapped birthday presents beside Cohen’s bed, gently kissed his forehead, and quietly left.

Outside Cohen’s window, a shadow darted away from the windowsill with a whoosh. Beneath the cloak of night, the shadow only revealed its form when it passed under a streetlamp.

It was a tabby cat, its facial fur marked as if it had once worn glasses. It approached an elderly white-haired man.

“Whoosh—”

“Whoosh—”

The streetlamp’s light seemed to be tugged away by some invisible hand, flowing one after another into the silver old-fashioned lighter held in the old man’s hand.

“Albus, I must admit, placing Cohen with the Norton family was an excellent choice.”

The tabby’s shadow lengthened suddenly in the night, transforming within seconds into a woman with a serious expression.

“Minerva, it was Edward and Rose’s decision, not mine,” Albus Dumbledore said with a smile, the stars and moon embroidered on his robes blending beautifully with the summer night sky overhead. “I am glad to see a child growing strong and healthy in the love of their parents.”

“If only Harry were worthy of the same,” Minerva McGonagall said somewhat discontentedly. “His living environment is far worse than Cohen’s. I don’t understand why you asked the Nortons to limit contact with Harry — even if it were just to allow the poor boy to enjoy a quiet afternoon tea at the neighbor’s house once a week.”

“Different flowers require different cultivation methods,” Dumbledore winked playfully at Professor McGonagall. “But there is no doubt that they will all bloom into the most beautiful flowers.”

“Perhaps there is one more thing you should know about Cohen,” McGonagall hesitated, deciding to share what she had observed.

“Oh, Cohen often does good deeds. I recall last time I visited, I happened to see him helping an elderly man cross the street,” Dumbledore said confidently, “Though his birth was unusual, he has still grown into a positive and healthy child.”

“Today, he gave another child a lollipop,” McGonagall added.

“That’s a good thing; sharing is rare for children at that age,” Dumbledore evidently did not perceive the problem.

“But when his back was turned, he used magic to take the lollipop back, and the child cried for nearly fifteen minutes,” McGonagall continued.

“...” Dumbledore fell silent.

“And about that time helping the elderly man cross the street — Cohen deliberately pointed him in the wrong direction.”

McGonagall paused.

Dumbledore seemed to anticipate what was coming next.

“The detour added an extra mile to the route, while Cohen’s actual destination was the same as the man’s. Cohen himself took the shorter path, just crossing two shops,” McGonagall said, exasperated. “I can hardly imagine what he’ll be like after meeting the Weasley brothers.”

“Young people always have novel ideas; pranks do not necessarily mean evil,” Dumbledore comforted, perhaps more to himself than to McGonagall.

“Even adult wizards can easily fall into the whirlpool of power and lose themselves, but Cohen has restrained his dark desires during his most vulnerable period. He is not like Voldemort.”

Hearing that name, McGonagall involuntarily shivered.

“Remember the day we found him?”

“The dark wizard’s laboratory?” McGonagall recalled some unpleasant memories. “There were over three hundred corpses, all with vacant eyes, as if cursed to death. I could never have imagined that such a thing was done by a child less than a year old — I’d rather believe a mysterious figure did it, even if he was already dead at the time.”

“Roses grow thorns to protect themselves, Minerva… we cannot refuse to appreciate their charming bloom simply because of their sharp thorns.”

————————

“Cohen!”

“Cohen!”

Before dawn, Cohen was awakened by urgent voices calling outside his door.

“I want to sleep!” Cohen protested, eyes barely open, not about to get up and open the door. “Kids who get up too early turn into beasts of burden!”

In his dream, he saw his mother, Rose, secretly placing birthday gifts beside his bed at midnight, gently kissing his forehead.

He also dreamt of two people he had never met but had seen in movies in his past life: Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore.

They were conversing on a street under the night sky about Cohen and Harry.

The dream was so vivid that Cohen felt it might have been a real scene he glimpsed while his spirit wandered.

“Cohen! Today your dad is taking you to Diagon Alley! Get up quickly, or you’ll make me late for my third adventure at the Dungeons & Dragons club this afternoon!”

Good heavens, how could a middle-aged wizard be so enthusiastic about playing “swords and sorcery” role-playing games with a group of Muggle teenagers!

If they really loved Dungeons & Dragons, why not go to a dragon breeding farm and challenge a dragon one-on-one? Those wizards who extract dragon blood would surely appreciate help taming a wild fire dragon.

“Alright, alright, I really can’t do anything with you...” Cohen sleepily changed out of his pajamas and soon noticed something by his bedside.

Birthday presents?

His awareness instantly sharpened.

The wrapping was exactly the same as in his dream.

If the Rose he saw in the dream was real...

Cohen hurried to the mirror.

There was still a fading lipstick mark on his forehead.

Could it be that old Albus and Professor McGonagall really visited his house at night? Was it alright to have no privacy at all? They even saw him snatch candy from another child!

No, what seemed more important was what Dumbledore had said at the end about Cohen’s origin...

A dark wizard’s laboratory, over three hundred corpses with vacant eyes... It sounded like young Cohen had devoured the souls of those dark wizards.

Was his past life really that formidable? He had thought of himself as an undeveloped Xiao Yan, but was he actually a Stone Hao who had had the supreme bone excavated?

Judging by how much old Albus trusted him so far, although Dumbledore still frequently checked up on him, Cohen’s behavior clearly aligned with his expectations.

At least he didn’t have to worry about being eliminated by the Light faction before school began — Dementors were not exactly “pleasant” creatures.

As for Edward and Rose adopting him... it was strange. Just yesterday, Edward had almost thought Cohen was a Muggle child, not seeming to know Cohen’s identity as a dark magic experiment subject.

But Dumbledore had said, “It was Edward and Rose’s choice,” meaning that these two definitely knew most of the truth and the risks of adoption, yet they still went ahead.

Cohen felt a slight warmth in his heart: his adoptive parents’ love for him was genuine, and no amount of lies could diminish that.

Putting aside these trivial matters, Cohen now only wanted to understand one thing: how he had managed to secretly observe and overhear the conversations on the street outside as if his soul had left his body.

And Dumbledore seemed completely unaware!

Many spells could accomplish simple spying, but to do so without being detected by the most powerful wizard of the century was quite remarkable.

Of course, Cohen had no intention of spying on Dumbledore’s private stash of Grindelwald photos. Instead, he wanted to use this method for incredibly safe information gathering — just imagine, a God’s-eye view cheat could easily turn the tide of any game, let alone a God’s-eye view in real life!

And one that wouldn’t get you banned!

But how could he trigger that state again?

Sleeping? Was that trigger a bit too impractical?

Cohen sat back on his bed, resting his head on the pillow.

Yet, his mind was clear and excited; falling asleep again would likely require physical exhaustion.

Still, after closing his eyes, he distinctly felt something unusual.

It was as if he... had split apart.

That was the best way to describe it: his soul had cracked open, connected only by a single tight bond.

Moreover, Cohen could actively control the shape of the two halves of his soul and observe everything around from the soul’s perspective — including his own body lying in bed.

However, when Cohen’s entire soul left his body, the body entered a state of apparent death, with no signs of life until his soul returned.

The soul could stretch, flatten, or be shaped like a cloak as if rolling dough—

Wait...

“Isn’t this exactly like a Dementor?”

After molding himself into a cloak-like shape, Cohen examined his soul’s appearance.

Good grief, with its black, ragged look and two decayed hands, he could probably apply for a government job at Azkaban.

After experimenting some more, Cohen discovered another trick.

He could leave half his soul attached to his body while sending the other half outside, allowing him to control his body and see more things through the soul — though because the two halves were connected by a single bond, there was a limit to how far apart they could go.

Though the connection spot could be manipulated at will, its length had a maximum of about fifteen meters — precisely the distance from Cohen’s room to the opposite side of Privet Drive.

No wonder he had unknowingly overheard Dumbledore and McGonagall’s conversation on Privet Drive last night.

[Notification! Special Ability Unlocked: Soul Shaping (1/10)]

So that’s how the special abilities unlock?!

Cohen had originally thought the system was already too stingy by not providing a rookie starter pack, but this special ability had to be discovered by himself.

“This is tough... Compared to the protagonists in those web novels, I think I’m already losing at the starting line...”

Now that he had figured out this new skill, the next step was to wash up, eat, and then follow Edward to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies.

Before going downstairs, Cohen unwrapped Rose’s gift.

It was a snow globe large enough to hold with both hands, inside which three living clay figures happily lived together in a snowy village — “happy” because Cohen could even hear the cheerful laughter coming from the house where the little family had just entered.

Would it sleep at night? Otherwise, having such a chattering globe in the dormitory would be quite creepy.

Overall, Rose’s gift was wonderful — Cohen had always liked such warm-hearted presents. After all, in his previous life on Earth, he had rarely received such straightforward “love” — though he was reluctant to admit it, he truly had been an orphan before.

However, the clay figures animated by the solidification charm did not possess souls, so Cohen couldn’t use the snow globe as an emergency sweet treat reserve.

“How are we getting to Diagon Alley later?”

At the dining table, Cohen managed to swallow the last piece of bread smothered in butter with some milk, then asked Edward, who was already counting out Galleons and Sickles.

Flying powder? Apparition with a follower?

“By car, what else? A magic carpet?” Edward rubbed his hands, calculating the remaining money, thinking he might still have enough left to buy Cohen a pet to take to school.