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"Oh, this is truly marvelous! And while that tongue strike doesn't hurt as much as most combat spells, the ability to lick items right off a person... that is quite formidable."
Professor Flitwick recast his Shield Charm, eyeing the toad on his desk with newfound respect.
"Precisely," Kane said, drawing the shadows back from Trevor's body and allowing the toad to return to its normal, sluggish state.
"I can turn an ordinary toad into that. One toad isn't much, but in large numbers, the chaos they'd cause would be significant."
Professor Flitwick picked up the thread of thought. "But you can't exactly carry a hundred toads in your pockets, can you?"
Kane nodded.
"Hmm, using your own magic to mutate ordinary animals into magical ones..." Flitwick looked thoughtfully toward the Forbidden Forest. "Well, it's not just animals. Regardless, I have a spell here that might suit you perfectly: the Summoning Charms."
Flitwick gave his wand a series of precise flicks. With each movent, small creatures appeared in the classroom—a rooster, a lizard, a snake, and a small bird.
"Though these are called 'Summoning' spells, they are technically a branch of Transfiguration. You aren't summoning a new life or transporting a creature from elsewhere on Earth; rather, you are creating these animals out of your own magical energy."
With another wave of his wand, the nagerie vanished. He then summoned a single, plain toad. "Try your shadows on this one."
Kane did. The result was gratifying. The shadows were domineering; even a magical construct summoned by a charm was forced into the twisted shape of the Constant.
"This spell will be invaluable to you. From what I've heard, your repertoire isn't limited to little frogs; you can create tree guards, and likely much more I haven't seen yet." Flitwick scribbled sothing on a piece of parchnt.
"This is for the Restricted Section of the library—A Comprehensive Guide to Conjuration and Transfiguration Branches. Co to if you have any questions.
While Albus and Minerva are masters of Transfiguration, one is the Headmaster and the other is the Deputy; they are very busy.
I, on the other hand, am usually in my office whenever I'm not teaching. Feel free to knock."
Kane accepted the note with a grin. In the "RPG map" of Hogwarts in his mind, another Professor's office had just been unlocked.
After a few more minutes of pleasantries, Kane left the classroom. Rounding the first corner, he found Harry and Ron crouching in the shadows.
"What took you so long with Flitwick? If we head to the Great Hall now, will there even be food left?" Ron asked gloomily.
"Let's go see. You never know." Kane felt his own stomach growl. They sprinted to the Hall, only to find the tables were cleaner than the trio's faces. The lunch service had ended.
"I think I'm actually dying," Ron groaned, leaning against a pillar.
"Do you have any more pasta?" Harry asked, rembering the cauldron Ron had produced the night before.
"Finished it all last night," Ron said helplessly.
"Fine. Allow to save us from the fires of starvation," Kane said with mock heroism, leading them out of the castle. As for how they'd find food near the Forbidden Forest... well, he had a plan.
They arrived at Hagrid's hut. Hagrid and Fang were likely out patrolling the woods.
"What's the plan? Scavenge Hagrid's pantry? I think finding a Hufflepuff to sneak us into the kitchens is a safer bet," Harry said, his stomach rumbling.
"Relax. I won't let you go hungry today." Kane reached into his pockets and pulled out a hoard of stones, gold, and flint. With a wave of his wand, the Science Machine materialized before their bewildered eyes.
He began refining stone bricks right there on the grass. Realizing he was short on twigs and logs, he looked toward the Forbidden Forest with a predatory glint in his eye. A few minutes later, he returned with an armful of branches and a handful of charcoal.
Harry and Ron stared. They had just finished Charms class, and while they hadn't started Transfiguration yet, they were pretty sure "hand-crafting" a three-legged cooking pot out of thin air wasn't part of the curriculum.
Clang! The Crock Pot stood before them.
Kane scouted around Hagrid's garden. Giant white radish? Taken. Small pumpkin? Taken. Strips of dried at from the eaves? Taken. He even found a small bag of flour.
He stuffed the ingredients into the pot without any prep work—no peeling, no chopping. Harry and Ron watched what looked like a "kitchen nightmare" in the making. They silently vowed they wouldn't touch a single bite of whatever eldritch horror Kane was heating up. There was no way that combination would even be edible.
Just as they finished their silent oaths, the Crock Pot let out a very human-like Ding! The lid flew off, propelled by steam, and the aroma that wafted out was... divine.
"Kane, tell the truth—are you using secret Transfiguration?"
"I saw what you put in there, and it was horrifying. Where did these perfectly browned, delicious-looking aty Stew atballs co from?" Harry and Ron stared at the culinary miracle.
Kane wanted to tell them "Don't worry about Constant logic," but he kept it to himself. He reached in, grabbed a atball larger than his fist, and took a massive bite.
"Why aren't you eating?" Kane asked through a mouthful of savory bliss.
Harry and Ron didn't need a second invitation. Forgetting their vows and their lack of utensils, they dove in with their bare hands.
As they were feasting, a panicked voice drifted from the trees. "Fang! Don't be scared! They aren't chasing us anymore!"
Kane looked up just in ti to see Hagrid's massive, cowardly boarhound barreling toward them. Fang slamd into the Crock Pot with the force of a runaway train, shattering the structure into splinters before diving into his kennel.
Hagrid ran up, panting. He saw the boys and the wreckage on the ground. "Oh! You must've missed lunch, and now Fang's gone and smashed your pot... Don't worry, I've got a spare one in the house you can have."
Hagrid disappeared inside and returned with... a cauldron. A standard, pewter potion-brewing cauldron.
"Hope this makes up for it," Hagrid said, sniffing the air. "Slls right lovely. I wouldn't mind a bite myself; Fang and I have been trekking through the forest all morning."
"Us too!" Harry and Ron chid in.
Kane looked at the cauldron. In his world, only he could deconstruct his creations for resources; when a dog smashed them, they just beca useless junk. He couldn't rebuild the Crock Pot right now.
He looked at the cauldron again. If a Crock Pot is a pot... can a cauldron be one too?
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