The shopping trip lasted only a whole morning; after Edward frantically took Cohen home with all their purchases, it was already one o'clock in the afternoon.
Edward had less than an hour until his game time, so in a hurry, he magically prepared lunch for Cohen and then rushed out the door, leaving Cohen alone at No. 5 Privet Drive.
Like a scientist eagerly about to conduct an evil experiment, Cohen rubbed his hands together after eating and returned to his bedroom, where the owl with the extremely strange soul strength rested on the table.
"Animagus? Maledictus? Or something else?"
Cohen pulled out his chair and sat down, his eyes level with the owl, "Count," in its cage.
"That should be 'something else.'"
A slightly humorous male voice emerged as Count's hooked beak opened and closed.
???
"Holy moly, you can talk???"
Cohen's eyes widened.
An Animagus cannot speak in animal form, nor can a Maledictus speak after transforming, because the physiological structure of other animals simply cannot mimic human vocalization—parrots excluded.
"Goodness, a Dementor can talk?"
Count tilted his head, his tone completely unfazed, as if he were performing an English crosstalk with Cohen.
"You have a human father, so is your mother a Dementor?"
Count continued to speak without restraint.
"This is the first time I've seen such a situation in all my years—hoot hoot hoot—even for a bird, this is pretty damn weird."
"..."
Cohen's gaze shifted from surprise to calm, and finally to indifference.
"Why aren't you talking? Is it because you've never seen a talking bird?"
Count rotated his head, which had been tilted 90 degrees clockwise, 90 degrees counter-clockwise this time; this behavior would seem adorable on a normal owl.
"No, wait, if a Dementor can talk, is it really that damn perplexing for a bird to talk? Or do you not know that you're a Dementor?"
"..." Cohen's face turned ashen.
"Oh no, you haven't been scared silly by me, have you? Does your father know the spell to lift the 'Owl Purchase Contract'?"
"You know, a bird can't use a wand, but seeing as your father could even get involved with a Dementor, I'm sure lifting a contract wouldn't be a problem for him."
"..." Cohen's forehead grew darker and darker.
"Of course, in exchange for freedom, I can go steal Galleons from other Wizard families for you. I'm very good at that job."
"Every Wizard thinks owls are for delivering mail and never considers what a bird might take from their home—how about thirty Galleons, thirty Galleons for the freedom of my bird life for the rest of my days—"
"Wait, I need to calm down."
Cohen stiffly left his seat, walked out of the bedroom, and slammed the door shut.
He wondered if it was still possible to return the bird now; this wasn't buying a fake, this was buying something evil.
What kind of owl drops an "f***" every few seconds and spouts dirty jokes?!
Cohen felt nauseated just thinking about consuming that kind of soul!
However, what the owl said about "stealing Galleons from other Wizard homes" sounded quite tempting...
But this owl had already figured out Cohen's Dementor identity. Would it blab?
After all, he had wandered around Diagon Alley for so long, and no one had screamed, "Dementor! Run, everyone!" or "Dementor! Everyone, pull out your wands and use Expecto Patronum, and remember to recall your happiest memory and use your corporeal Patronus to blast this monster away!"
Of course, ordinary Wizards probably wouldn't know such advanced magic as the Patronus Charm anyway.
Given Dumbledore's usual behavior, he most likely simply approved of Cohen, the half-Dementor, being alive. The Ministry of Magic, afraid of death, probably knew nothing, otherwise, he wouldn't be able to wander around Muggle streets so freely.
Keeping his identity a secret was still very important in the early stages, at least until he possessed a soul strength greater than most Wizards; he couldn't let too many people who shouldn't know find out.
And this talking owl, who already knew Cohen's identity, was clearly an unsettling factor.
But a talking owl is also very cool!
Cohen was conflicted and decided to give this owl a chance to live.
"Clap—"
Cohen returned to the room and sat back down in his chair.
"Hoot hoot—"
"I've thought it over. First, I want to clarify, my mother isn't a Dementor, and my father isn't Peifeng—"
"Who's Peifeng?" The owl, "Count," expressed his confusion with his large eyeballs.
"Little owls shouldn't know so many inappropriate things." Cohen refused to explain these things to his owl. "Back to the topic, my parents are very normal, because I was adopted—and—"
Cohen particularly emphasized "and."
"You know Dumbledore, right?"
"I know. Last time I went to Hogwarts to deliver mail to a young Wizard, he was in the tower gazing at a photo of a young man. Do you want to know that man's name? Three Galleons—"
"Grindelwald, next question—no, don't change the subject!" Cohen warned.
"You asked me first!" Count retorted angrily, "You completely unreasonable little—"
After Cohen deliberately licked his lips, Count stopped complaining as if he had choked on an owl nut.
"You continue," Count said dryly.
"Dumbledore specifically placed me in this family, understand?" Cohen asked.
"Uh-huh?" Count pecked his wing. "The way you're asking, it's like you're going to pluck my feathers out one by one and ask me 'Do you agree?' 'Do you agree?'—"
"Do you agree?" Cohen asked seriously, "I'm very democratic. If you don't agree, I'll eat your soul."
"You didn't even say what I'm supposed to agree to!" Count, in a fit of anger, bit off one of his own feathers. "Or—I guess you don't even know—owls simply don't have the power to disagree!"
"It's you Wizards who came up with the 'Owl Purchase Contract'! I swear, when all the field mice in the world are eaten by me, I'll start eating Wizards, eating all of you bad things who exploit little animals—"
"Wait, you mean... you have to obey my commands, right?" Cohen pretty much understood the secret hidden in Count's complaint.
"Otherwise, do you think every owl would be bought for life by your owl food, which weighs as much as your cerebellum?" Count said venomously.
"Let me confirm, I'm a bit insecure." Cohen raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, I'm sure you often worry about an owl attacking you—after all, I'll hide a wand on me, and every time a Wizard buys me, I'll shout 'Avada Kedavra' at them—then you'll realize, I'm a damn owl, an owl, understand!? I don't even have hands to hold a wand!"