"You—you're not a Mudblood. Which family are you from? I suggest you don't be reckless. My na is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. For all we know, we might even be related!"
Staring at the surreal magic he'd never seen before, Draco imdiately concluded that Kane must be the scion of so secretive, ancient magical family. Seeing Kane's clearly unfriendly expression, he scrambled to find common ground.
"I'm sorry to say, but my relatives are most likely all dead," Kane replied, waving a hand casually at Draco. "Next ti you decide to cause trouble, keep your eyes peeled."
In the next instant, Draco was snatched up by the shadow claw. He was hoisted into the air and, like a failed Spider-Man, firmly bound to the ceiling by living shadows.
"We should find another spot. I'm worried Mr. Malfoy up there might spit in my ice cream from the ceiling," Kane said, picking up his bowl and preparing to leave the stall.
Of course, the truth wasn't nearly that funny. Maxwell had just nudged him with a warning: an adult who looked remarkably like a "large-sized" version of Draco Malfoy was fast approaching.
Harry and Ron promptly grabbed their treats and followed. Having a sobbing person looming over them from the rafters was indeed a bit of an appetite killer. It wasn't until they were well away from the stall that the reality of what had just happened fully sunk in for Harry and Ron.
Ron looked at Kane, then at Harry. He finally understood why Harry was so willing to spend money on this guy.
With a friend this terrifyingly powerful by your side, what was a little gold? If it were him, he'd spend it too—assuming he had any.
Harry, however, was still listening to the fading wails from the shop. "Er, thanks for being so easy on back in that alley. I appreciate you escorting out before running off, instead of just leaving to sleep in a dumpster all night."
Kane took a bite of ice cream and glanced at Harry. "What kind of talk is that? I'm not so ungrateful lunatic."
Ron's jaw dropped. So, Kane—who just took down a Malfoy without moving a finger—was once chased into an alley by Harry? As expected of the Boy Who Lived. Defeating Voldemort as a baby was no fluke; he was clearly a beast.
If Kane or Harry could hear Ron's inner monologue, they would have wondered if the boy had suffered so sort of brain fever. His ability to misinterpret a situation was truly legendary.
As the three of them sat on their stacks of books by the roadside finishing their ice cream, two figures approached—one fast, one slow. One was the "Large Malfoy," likely the father of the boy currently decorating the ceiling. The other was Hagrid, carrying three large cages.
Hagrid had initially thought that buying Ron a pet would be an insult to the Weasleys, but the thought of Kane and Harry having pets while Ron watched with puppy-dog eyes was just too much for his soft heart to bear.
"Surprise for the three of you!" Hagrid set the three cages down in front of them. "I've bought you three little ssengers to send your letters. Go on, take a pick! It's a surprise, so I didn't tell you!"
"I get one too?" Ron asked, stunned.
"Course you do! This is from , not Hogwarts. Don't you worry about those 'rules' for a second," Hagrid said, thumping his chest proudly.
"You two pick first. I'll take whatever's left," Kane said, taking a wary step back. If he'd known Hagrid was off doing this, he would have stopped him. Between his shadows and his sanity, he barely had the energy to keep himself healthy; he really didn't have the bandwidth for a bird.
Still, it was a gift from the heart. He'd accept it. I'll likely be in the sa dorm as Harry anyway, Kane figured. I'll just let him handle the feeding.
Harry chose a snowy owl, white as a winter drift. Ron picked a greyish-brown jay. That left the final cage for Kane: a jet-black raven.
"Well? How do I look? Does the aesthetic match?" Kane asked, lifting the raven's cage.
"It matches perfectly," Harry remarked dryly. "Between the two of you, you look like you won't survive until the end of the month."
"Shut it, Harry. Ron, what do you think?"
"You look like an evil Dark Wizard who eats children for breakfast," Ron said honestly.
"..."
As Kane stood there, feeling betrayed by his two new "roasting-specialist" friends, a deep, cold voice sounded from behind him.
"Is this the young gentleman who glued my son to the ceiling?"
Kane turned around. Sure enough—sa platinum hair, sa haughty air as the boy in the ice cream shop.
Hagrid looked confused until Harry and Ron simultaneously started explaining the "Ceiling Malfoy" incident at a hundred miles an hour. Once he grasped the situation, Hagrid imdiately stepped in front of Kane.
"Malfoy, you wouldn't be thinking of laying a hand on a student in front of , would you?"
Lucius Malfoy listened to the boys' chatter and felt a wave of frustration. Draco clearly hadn't told him the full truth; now he had to clean up his son's ss.
"Don't misunderstand, Hagrid. I have simply co on behalf of my... immature son to apologize to this young gentleman," Lucius said smoothly. He looked at Kane. "I am Lucius Malfoy. The boy on the ceiling is my son, Draco. I apologize for his rudeness."
The apology seed formal enough, but when Lucius removed a glove and extended a hand, Kane didn't take it. He simply stated his na: "Kane Heath. An orphan."
Lucius frowned, ntally cycling through the na "Heath" and coming up blank. It wasn't uncommon; so many pureblood and half-blood lines had been scattered or hidden during Voldemort's reign, with children ending up in Muggle orphanages.
That shadow magic was far too potent to be a Muggle-born fluke; it had to be a bloodline inheritance. Kane being an orphan only strengthened the theory that he was the last of so obscure, powerful line.
"It seems you are not inclined to accept my apology," Lucius noted.
"Maybe you should have your son co down and apologize himself," Kane suggested. Behind him, Harry and Ron stifled giggles.
Lucius remained expressionless. "He is currently on the ceiling and unable to co down."
Kane understood. All this posturing was just a long-winded way of asking him to release the boy.
"Prepare a cushion for him," Kane said, getting straight to the point.
Lucius flicked his wand. The floor inside the ice cream shop suddenly beca as soft and bouncy as jelly. In the next instant, the shadow bindings holding Draco vanished. The boy hit the floor and bounced twice.
"Your son is down. We're leaving," Hagrid grunted. He couldn't stand being near Lucius for another second.
"I shall look into your family history within the wizarding world," Lucius called out to Kane's retreating back. "You are certainly no Mudblood."
Kane gave a noncommittal shrug. Look into my family? Good luck finding a paper trail to the Constant.
He was far more interested in seeing how Ollivander was doing with his custom wand. Lucius watched the four of them walk away. He felt a tug at his robes and looked down at a disheveled Draco.
"Ask whatever is on your mind," Lucius commanded.
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