"When we went back home for the break, he said some weird stuff to me and Narcissa," Lucius said nervously. "Before that, the Dark Lord came to him and told me to get Dumbledore out of the school…"
"But Dumbledore never left," Cohen pointed out. He knew what Lucius was worried about. "You're scared Voldemort will think you screwed up."
"…" Lucius gave a slight nod.
"Voldemort just gave the basilisk an order and then bolted because Dumbledore and his phoenix showed up in the Chamber," Cohen explained. "You guys couldn't really stop or trap Dumbledore—he knows that perfectly well. So he's not going to blame you for it."
"That's a relief…" Lucius let out a breath he'd been holding.
"But Draco said… it's like he's forgotten some things," Narcissa added, her voice tinged with worry. "I checked him myself, and it does seem like he's been hit with a spell."
"That's because Voldemort controlled him to open the Chamber a few times," Cohen said, casually pinning the blame on Voldemort. In truth, the Memory Charm on Draco was Cohen's doing. "Possession can have some short-term side effects—Voldemort's never been big on taking care of his followers, has he?"
Narcissa's face darkened, but she quickly composed herself. The idea of Voldemort hurting her son made her uneasy, yet she was powerless to do anything about it.
"But then he switched to that Nott kid," Lucius said. "Was he disappointed in Draco?"
"Nah," Cohen replied. "I made him switch. If Draco got possessed a few more times, he'd end up with permanent damage—like Quirrell last year."
"Th-thank you…" Narcissa's voice trembled slightly.
"For now, try to stay out of Voldemort's plans as much as possible. If anything comes up, I'll deal with him directly," Cohen lied smoothly. "His soul's a mess right now, so he's probably changing his mind every day and forgetting stuff. If he hasn't shown up at your manor to hide out by now, it means he still doesn't trust you. And given how he's treated Draco, as long as you don't go looking for him, he won't come after you before he's resurrected."
"He's still got a resurrection plan?" Lucius asked, sounding like he wasn't exactly thrilled about his boss coming back. Ever since Voldemort's downfall, it didn't seem like he'd been rooting for a comeback.
"Yeah, in a year or two, maybe longer. Depends on if I decide to keep working with him," Cohen said, raising an eyebrow. "He's been drifting around as a wraith for too long—he's lost a lot of his judgment. Without my help, his resurrection's gonna take way longer."
Cohen had no intention of letting Peter Pettigrew off the hook, which meant Voldemort's revival plan was missing a key kickstart. No one was going to hunt him down, no one was going to help him capture Bertha Jorkins to get info about the Triwizard Tournament, and no one was going to free little Barty Crouch from his tightly controlled situation under his father's watch.
Whether Cohen stepped in or not would decide if Voldemort came back in fourth year. If Cohen didn't help, the timeline would stretch out a lot—there weren't many loyal Death Eaters still out there willing to track him down. The ones who'd survived the last twelve years were either dead, locked up, or hiding out somewhere, too scared to show their faces.
"So, what's your decision?" Lucius asked.
He felt like he'd already been roped onto Cohen's ship. If Cohen turned against Voldemort, it wouldn't take long for Voldemort to suspect that the Malfoys— who'd been in contact with Cohen—might flip too.
Traitors among the Death Eaters… their survival rate was terrifyingly low.
"Depends on whether he can show me a bit more value," Cohen said, dodging a straight answer. "You don't need to worry about it for now. We're still cooperating, and if I ever decide to burn that bridge…"
Narcissa's breathing quickened as Cohen trailed off.
"…it'd mean I've already figured out how to dismantle the little tricks keeping him clinging to life. He'd die like any other wizard and never come back to this world."
Cohen looked at the two of them. "Eventually, you'll have to make a choice—a gamble with your whole family's fate on the line. Either cut ties with me and track down Voldemort, resurrect him under the Ministry's nose, and beg for his forgiveness, or get ready to stick with me."
"We need some time to think…" Lucius said, hesitating for the first time instead of jumping to a decision.
"Take your time," Cohen replied. "Oh, by the way, a heads-up—your house-elf's a bit… rebellious." He'd just remembered something. "It overheard our conversation and tried to warn Harry Potter and stop him from coming back to school. Dumbledore's getting suspicious."
"What?!" Lucius gritted his teeth. "Dobby—I knew that little wretch was always distracted for a reason—"
"Can you buy and sell house-elves?" Cohen asked. "You might want to replace it. Though, for a traitor, I've got a better punishment in mind."
"I'd like to recreate that experiment from the Borgin estate," Cohen said, glancing at Lucius. "But this time, I want to make a puppet. House-elves are perfect test subjects—they've got some ancient, powerful magic in them. Name your price, and I'll take it."
House-elves were pretty useful, though Cohen wasn't actually planning to use Dobby as a lab rat—that'd be a waste.
"I think the Flints have some new house-elves being born. Getting one from them would be better than keeping a traitor around," Lucius said, visibly relieved that Cohen wasn't blaming them for Dobby's leak. "As for a price…"
He didn't dare haggle with Cohen.
But giving it away for free… well…
"One house-elf. If you need it, just take it," Narcissa cut in. She didn't care about a few hundred or thousand Galleons—all she wanted was for the Malfoy family to survive whatever storm was coming.
"Dobby, come here," Lucius called into the air.
*Pop!*
With a muffled sound, Dobby appeared in the clearing among the trees.
"M-Master…"
Dobby bowed shakily to Lucius, its huge, bell-like eyes darting toward Cohen before it shrank back in fear.
Lucius couldn't help but think handing it over to Cohen might be more satisfying than just killing or torturing it.
"You told Harry Potter about our conversation, didn't you?" Lucius asked coldly.
"Ah…" Dobby curled in on itself, head lowered. It didn't want to answer, but the magic binding it forced the truth out. "Y-Yes… Master…"
"You belong to Cohen Norton now. You know who he is," Lucius said with a sneer. "Which means… clothes."
Dobby had dreamed of freedom—but not like this…
"No—not that sir—" Dobby's face filled with terror. "Dobby won't do it again—"
But Lucius had already waved his wand, summoning an old pair of socks and tossing them at Dobby's head.
Their bond was broken. Dobby now belonged to Cohen.
(End of Chapter)