As for why a legendary artifact like the Codex Umbra was relegated to leveling a table leg... it was highly likely that Dumbledore's Sanity was simply too high.
He probably couldn't perceive the bizarre, corrupting nature of the book at all.
But that worked out perfectly. Otherwise, it wouldn't have fallen into Kane's hands so easily.
Kane allowed his shadows to wash over the Codex Umbra, eroding it, dissolving it, and seamlessly integrating it into his own shadow magic.
Almost instantly, he felt his shadows beco denser, more vibrant, and far more responsive to his will.
Previously, when he wanted to comfort Hermione, he had to painstakingly manipulate the shadows bit by bit, moving them like a marionette.
Now, he could effortlessly manifest fully functional Shadow Puppets with basic independent action capabilities, just like Maxwell.
Beyond that, he no longer needed to exhaust himself by using Transfiguration paired with shadow corruption just to manufacture hostile entities shaped like Constant creatures.
With the Codex Umbra, he could directly summon various types of Shadow Creatures to attack his enemies, completely cutting out Transfiguration as the middleman.
Of course, the Codex Umbra possessed far more depth than just these basic functions. Maxwell had spent decades studying it only to master four specific spells; for Kane to acquire two incredibly potent techniques right off the bat was already an exceptional harvest.
To further unearth the hidden knowledge and core essence within its pages, he would just have to keep studying diligently.
"Mr. Wizard? May we leave now?" the goblin asked softly from outside the vault. Adhering strictly to Gringotts' policy, he kept his back turned away from the interior.
"We can leave."
Kane pulled a hefty stack of Gold Galleons out from Little Pumpkin's mouth, wedged them beneath the crooked bookshelf until it sat perfectly level, and quickly strode out of the vault.
He locked the massive door, followed the goblin back up to the main lobby, and proceeded to exchange a generous amount of pure gold for a thick wad of British Pounds—currency that was useful absolutely everywhere in the Muggle world.
Thoroughly satisfied, he mounted his broom and flew back to Hogwarts.
Upon returning, Kane went straight to the Headmaster's office to return the key.
Hearing the knock at the door, Dumbledore had braced himself to see a frustrated, debt-ridden twelve-year-old. Instead, when the door swung open, there wasn't a trace of annoyance on Kane's face.
On the contrary, he was beaming with joy, looking less like a stressed student and more like a carefree young man who had just won the lottery.
What's more...
"Why do I get the feeling that your magic has grown significantly stronger?" Dumbledore asked, eyeing him curiously.
"It's all thanks to your family vault," Kane said cheerfully. He tossed the vault key back onto the desk, then willed the Codex Umbra to manifest in front of him, catching it deftly.
"Ah. I rember that being nothing more than a blank notebook that refused to hold any ink... a useless journal, as it was for most people who looked at it," Dumbledore noted, a realization dawning on him.
"Then I suppose I am one of the rare few. This book is imnsely useful to —vitally important, in fact. Thank you for parting with it." Kane allowed the grimoire to sink back into his shadow.
"If it can be of use to you, then that is for the best." Dumbledore didn't offer any tedious, superficial lectures about how 'too much power can corrupt' or 'you must learn to master your darkness.' Nor did he show even a flicker of regret for accidentally overlooking a clearly powerful magical to.
He looked completely unfazed, as if he had rely handed a friend a handful of pumpkin seeds.
"Anyway, thanks a million. Oh, and about that lopsided bookshelf of yours—I used sothing else to prop it up and make it level. Don't worry."
The mont Kane said this, Dumbledore's casual deanor vanished, and he asked rather anxiously, "What did you use? Please tell it wasn't the books or the clothes inside?"
Kane shrugged. "I used Gold Galleons, obviously. Those clothes and books looked like they held sentintal value, so I didn't touch a single one."
"Ah... splendid." Dumbledore let out a massive sigh of relief and popped a lemon drop into his mouth.
Kane didn't linger. He headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room. Because his round trip had been incredibly swift, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still huddled in their usual corner.
Hermione was deeply engrossed in the wizarding genealogy book, surrounded by a mountain of scratch paper covered in dense notes. Kane took one look at the chaotic ss of family trees, muttered a quiet prayer against the "foul, corrupting sight," and sat down.
Hermione noticed him sitting beside him. Seeing the faint residue of dark magic clinging to him and knowing he had just left with the Dumbledore family vault key, she imdiately surmised that he had retrieved a magical book.
Adhering to her personal philosophy that 'learning a little extra on the sly is a net profit,' she curiously stretched her neck to sneak a peek.
It was entirely blank.
Alright then. It has an anti-peeking enchantnt. What a powerful, magical book.
Ti slipped away, drifting from afternoon into evening. Because the school was currently in a state of high alert, the professors had given strict instructions that no student was to wander alone.
Even going down to the Great Hall for dinner now required the House Prefects to lead the way.
Percy took his duties as a Prefect very seriously, and his academic and leadership skills were more than up to the task.
Within a single minute, he had organized all seven years of Gryffindor into a neat, orderly line. Flanked by a female Prefect at the rear, they escorted the young wizards safely to the Great Hall.
Upon entering, it was clear that a heavy cloud of worry hung over almost every professor's face; the staff had obviously been briefed on the Basilisk.
Well, except for Dumbledore and Lockhart. As Headmaster, if Dumbledore looked terrified, the students would truly feel like the sky was falling.
As for Lockhart... perhaps nobody had bothered to tell him about the giant killer snake?
Deciding not to dwell on the adults, Kane watched as Dumbledore waved his wand, causing a feast far more lavish than usual to materialize across the long tables. It was an obvious attempt to use comfort food to raise the students' spirits.
Whether the other students were cheered up remained to be seen, but Kane was genuinely enjoying his al—until a first-year girl sat down beside him, looking thoroughly conflicted.
Kane glanced over. Ah~ Ginny. Ron's sister was essentially Kane's sister. "If there's sothing on your mind, just spit it out!"
That was what he thought, and it was pretty much exactly how he said it.
Ginny hesitated, then spoke in a low, quiet voice. "Kane... I know you have a really good relationship with Professor Lockhart. Could you... Um... could you help get a black notebook back from him? That notebook is really, really important to ."
Kane racked his mory for a mont. "Oh, you an the one you used to break that other kid's nose?"
"It wasn't my fault!" Ginny said defensively, looking a bit slighted. "He started it. He called a pauper, said I was spoiled, and that because my family is poor, I should just accept wearing second-hand robes instead of demanding a brand-new one without any custom embroidery."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Sounds like you didn't hit him hard enough," Kane evaluated casually.
Ron and the Weasley twins, who were sitting a short distance away, nodded fiercely in agreent. Percy, anwhile, made a ntal note to find out exactly who that student was later. It was ti to show them how the ga of institutional power was played.
"So, will you?" Ginny pleaded, looking up at him. "I really want my notebook back."
"Of course. As soon as I finish eating, I'll go straight to Professor... Lockhart's office. If that book is still with him, I'll absolutely get it back for you," Kane promised decisively.
True to his word, the mont dinner concluded, Kane made a direct line for the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. Standing before the door, he raised his hand and knocked.
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