"What are these?" In an instant, Ollivander's eyes were captivated by the two items on the counter. They were clearly anything but ordinary.
"Living Log and Nightmare Fuel. That's what I call them."
Ollivander cautiously reached out a hand to touch the Living Log. The mont he made contact, the wood let out a sharp wail. "This thing is alive! What if it... dies while I'm shaping it into a wand?"
"It's just imbued with enough magic that it acts alive. Don't worry, as long as you don't burn it, it'll be fine. If possible, though, seal its mouth.
It doesn't actually speak; it just shrieks, and it's a bit too noisy," Kane said, leaning against the counter.
He acted like a completely hands-off custor, leaving the materials there without a second glance.
"Very well, very well. Any other requirents?" Ollivander asked, his voice trembling with excitent.
"Hmm... make it look good. And ideally, give it so extra functions."
"No problem," Ollivander agreed imdiately. Then ca the matter of the fee. "A standard wand from the shop, regardless of material, is seven Galleons. But since you provided your own rare materials... how does four Gold Galleons sound?"
Ollivander waited for Kane to haggle. Business was business, after all. In truth, he was so addicted to his craft—and Kane had provided two materials he'd never seen before—that he would have done it for free. He might even have paid Kane for the privilege.
But the expected haggling never ca. Kane casually started to say, "Put it on Dumbledore's—"
"I've got it." Harry spoke faster than Kane and moved even faster than Hagrid, who was already reaching for his pouch. Harry slapped four Gold Galleons onto the counter with the air of a true benefactor.
Kane didn't skip a beat. "Put it on Harry's tab, then."
Ron watched this exchange in shock. This friendship ga... you can play it like this?
"Ahem. If all goes well, you'll have your unique wand by this afternoon." Ollivander didn't even look at the gold. He snatched up the Living Log and the Nightmare Fuel as if afraid soone might steal them and vanished into his workshop.
The four of them left the shop and proceeded to buy the usual—cauldrons, robes, the works. Kane naturally let Harry settle every bill.
However, while buying books, Kane paused and looked at Hagrid. "If other young wizards are orphans like but don't have a 'Harry' to cover for them, how do they buy their things?"
"If a student is truly penniless and struggling, Hogwarts provides a bursary fund for their supplies.
Of course, you don't exactly qualify as penniless right now..." Hagrid looked at Kane, who was currently wearing a set of robes with gold-thread trim, and let out a relieved laugh.
These were the most luxurious robes in Madam Malkin's: warm in winter, cool in sumr, self-sizing, self-repairing, dirt-repellent, and equipped with two pockets chard with Undetectable Extension Charms.
Even Harry hadn't bought those for himself. Kane had a sharp eye for quality.
Hagrid and Ron didn't judge. If anyone else had a friend buying them such expensive things, they'd suspect a scam or a request to do sothing impossibly dangerous—like splitting up to hunt down Voldemort seven different ways.
But Kane just accepted it with a blissful smile, and Harry seed just as happy to give. That "my money is your money" vibe was actually quite admirable. With a brother like that, who cared about Voldemort? If you wanted to go fight Dumbledore, I'd probably follow you!
"I feel like I'm missing out on a lot," Kane said suddenly, his hand pausing on a shelf of books.
"In truth, the Hogwarts subsidy isn't nearly as generous as Harry's," Hagrid explained. "You'd likely have a multi-hand cauldron, patched-up robes, and you'd be digging through the second-hand section for textbooks. The only thing new on you would be your wand."
Ron, whose entire kit was second-hand (including his wand), suddenly felt that, economically speaking, he was worse off than an orphan.
"Well, forget that then." Kane put the brand-new books back on the shelf and headed toward the dusty second-hand corner.
Ron looked confused and leaned in toward Harry. "What's up with Kane? Is he starting to feel bad about spending your money?"
Harry shook his head. Ron clearly didn't know Kane well enough yet.
Harry was right. Kane was buying second-hand books purely because he was too lazy to take his own notes; he wanted a copy that already contained the wisdom (and scribbles) of those who ca before him.
Hagrid watched them for a mont before slipping away. He planned to get Kane and Harry a little surprise. He didn't include Ron—not because he didn't like him, but because Kane and Harry were orphans; a gift from an elder made sense.
Ron had parents; an outsider buying him a gift would be like slapping the Weasleys in the face. Hagrid might not be a genius, but he understood social graces.
In the bookstore, Ron looked down at his own robes—which cost about as much as a sandwich—and decided not to go down the path of living off his friends.
Even though Harry had offered to pay for everything, Ron insisted on picking out and haggling for his own things, even using his spare Copper Knuts to buy Kane and Harry ice cream.
"Say, where did Hagrid go?" Harry asked, licking his ice cream.
"Probably off on business. Diagon Alley isn't that big; he'll find us," Ron replied. Suddenly, his expression shifted. He didn't look like he was eating ice cream; he looked like he'd just bitten into sothing foul.
"Did you see soone you don't like?" Kane asked.
"You could say that," Ron said grimly. "An evil little Malfoy brat. He's like a fly; the mont he spots you, he has to co over and buzz."
As if Ron's words had a summoning charm, a loud, arrogant voice rang out behind them.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the disgrace to purebloods himself, the youngest Weasley. Tell , Ron, did you find two Knuts under the floorboards last night? Finally got enough to buy your friends so cheap ice cream?"
Kane felt a presence behind him. The newcor seed to be debating whose shoulder was worthy of being his armrest. He eventually chose Kane's—likely because Kane's robes were the most expensive.
Kane felt a heavy arm drop onto his shoulder. "I haven't seen these two before. What's the matter, Weasley? Is your family so destitute they've started making friends with Mudbloods now?"
The boy added a bit of weight, trying to shove Kane's shoulder down.
Harry looked at the blonde boy with an expression of pure pity. Ron was already reaching for his wand to defend his friend.
"The evil Malfoy brat is indeed annoying," Kane said calmly. "But don't bother, Ron."
Draco Malfoy's brow furrowed. He could tolerate Ron talking back—they were both purebloods, after all—but since when did a Mudblood get to speak? Draco raised his hand, intending to give the back of Kane's head a sharp smack.
But the mont he tried to move, he froze. His entire body locked up.
A twisted, surreal shadow claw had erupted from the ground, gripping his wrist in a vice-like hold. Looking down, the claw extended directly from Kane's own shadow.
"What were you planning to do just now?" Kane asked softly, looking back at the golden-haired boy, whose face had turned a ghostly, terrified white.
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