Quirrell imdiately grabbed the parchnt with one hand and Kane's wand-bearing arm with the other. "If you w-want this l-list, you only need to s-stay. Just s-stay!"
In Kane's eyes, Professor Quirrell instantly transford into a predator that deserved a small, personal-sized Avada Kedavra.
"Oh, in that case, I don't want it." Kane was remarkably carefree; he abandoned the book list on the spot and tried to yank his arm back. It didn't budge.
"Professor, what is this?" Kane asked, raising an eyebrow.
"K-kane, I only want you to r-receive a t-true education. You..."
Before Quirrell could finish, the jagged swamp nearby suddenly doubled in size. Tentacles whipped toward him, only to be sliced in half by two invisible blades of magic.
Quirrell flinched, seemingly shocked that Kane actually dared to strike. He drew his wand, a red light tethering Kane's wand; with a single thought, an Expelliarmus would disarm the boy. He stared at Kane in disbelief. "Y-you would f-fight a p-professor?"
Kane shrugged. "Of course not."
His wand hand remained still. Instead, his other hand reached into his pocket and pulled out the Pan Flute.
"Bye-bye, Professor. Have a nice nap." Kane brought the flute to his lips and blew a haunting lody that cascaded from high to low.
Almost instantly, an inescapable drowsiness washed over Quirrell—and Voldemort within him. As the notes filled the room, a single thought shared by both master and servant flickered before they succumbed: Now we know how to bypass that three-headed dog guarding the trapdoor. We just need that flute...
Thud!
Poor Quirrell collapsed.
However, unlike the unconscious Quirrell, Voldemort was far more resilient. He shook off the grogginess quickly, and when he took control of the body to look around, Kane was long gone.
"A natural, specialized Dark Magic..." Voldemort murmured. He unleashed a ntal Cruciatus curse on Quirrell's soul to force his servant back online.
"M-master, what did you s-say?" Quirrell asked, trembling.
"I said, this little wizard possesses a brand-new, unique form of Dark Magic, entirely different from anything previously known to the Wizarding World. And it is innate," Voldemort marveled.
"You m-an... like an Obscurus?"
"No. An Obscurus is a powerful entity residing within a wizard. This boy, Kane Heath, is the powerful entity himself. I need his power. Prepare a ritual circle for , my most loyal servant."
"O-of course, Master. Such p-power is too m-much for a re b-boy. It belongs to y-you." Quirrell flattered him instinctively, not caring what would happen to Kane once his power was stripped.
The Headmaster's Office
"Quirrell is a bit disgusting," Kane muttered, clutching a cup of tea. He regretted not kicking the man a few tis while he was asleep.
"Mmm." Dumbledore nodded, watching the crystal ball's playback of the office scene. "It seems they've set their sights on you. Perhaps I should have assigned this task to a less conspicuous student. This was my error."
Kane looked at Dumbledore. The Headmaster's expression hadn't changed at all. Does he actually feel bad, or is he just saying that?
"Forget it. At least I got sothing out of it. This book list... Quirrell's knowledge base is actually pretty solid. I'm heading out." Kane stuffed the parchnt into his pocket.
"Kane, there's no need to cram your schedule so tightly. Halloween is in a few days. Perhaps you should enjoy the sweets for a while before returning to your studies?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow; he truly felt Kane was pushing too hard.
"No thanks, Professor. This makes happy." Kane pushed open the door and nearly ran into Professor Snape, who looked as cold and brooding as ever.
"Ah, Mr. Heath. Good news: your potion was finished ahead of schedule." Snape pulled a vial of grey liquid from his robes. Seeing Kane here saved him the trouble of an owl delivery.
"Thank you, Professor Snape." Kane took the potion and hurried off.
"What potion was that? You know, my eyes aren't what they used to be," Dumbledore asked, his curiosity piqued as always.
"Apparently, Mr. Heath obtained a token of friendship from Hagrid but failed to realize the connection between the man and the beasts. Now, for the sake of 'friendship,' he is using a cruel deception to erase his own mistakes." Snape spoke the facts plainly, without his usual bite.
"Ah, the confidence of a man who can brew his own mory Draughts," Dumbledore smiled. He'd been looking for a way to needle Snape since the "crystal ball" comnt.
While the two masters traded barbs, Kane was curled up inside the giant hat of the Prestigahatitator. He found that studying inside the machine boosted his efficiency to terrifying levels. To Harry and Ron, he looked like a pri candidate for a psychiatric ward.
"Halloween's in two days. If we just push Kane out the door like that, we'll rake in a mountain of candy," Ron remarked.
Harry nodded, then sighed. At the Dursleys', he'd never been allowed to go trick-or-treating.
Dudley went every year, of course—though unlike other kids who'd "trick" if they didn't get treats, Dudley just never stopped the tricking regardless. How his aunt and uncle saw him as a "sweet boy" was a mystery for the ages.
Kane peered out from his hat at the "mortals," then switched to a new book. By the ti they finished a sentence, he'd finished a chapter.
Boring mortals.
That Evening...
Harry and Ron, returning from the Great Hall, tapped on the side of the big hat with a bundle of takeaway food.
Inside, Kane had finally finished the last book on Quirrell's list. It was ti to head to the Forbidden Forest and test his new magic.
When he crawled out, he tried to maintain the persona of a cold, ruthless wizard—one who was about to go on a spider-slaying, mory-erasing, resource-hoarding spree. But the mont the house-elves' cooking hit his tongue, the "beauty and goodness" of life ca rushing back.
The massacre plan... well, I still feel bad about Hagrid, but...
He couldn't be impulsive. He'd learned from the other professors that Hagrid only had a deep bond with Aragog, the patriarch. The other spiders? They were basically just a threat to the forest's ecological safety.
Harry and Ron watched Kane's facial expressions cycle through a dozen emotions over a single al. They didn't even bother sharing a look anymore; they were used to it.
Late Night: The Forbidden Forest
The spider nest was about to et its strictest father.
Kane retraced the path he'd taken before. Once he arrived before Aragog, he didn't give the giant spider ti to speak or its children ti to lunge. He flicked his wand, and wave after wave of spiders fell into a deep, infant-like sleep.
He poured Snape's mory Draught down Aragog's throat. According to the Potions Master, this would wipe everything from the last month. Then began the routine collection process.
Massive amounts of Silk, Spider Glands, and Monster at. He followed up with basic supplies: wood, grass, stones, and reeds. Just as he was finishing up, ready to head back to the castle...
"O-oh... w-what a l-lucky day."
Kane froze, a bitter smile forming on his face.
"Who are you telling, Professor Quirrell?"
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