Kane tore into the package with brute force. Digging through a mountain of scrap-cloth stuffing, he pulled out a crystal-clear, irregularly shaped Purple Gem, roughly the size of half his palm.
"This is it. Success or failure depends on this. If you don't work, I'm actually going to have to go grave-digging!"
Kane gripped the gem with both hands. Shadows flowed from his palms, swirling into the facets of the stone. For a brief second, he felt the Shadow corruption successfully take root.
"It's working!" he shouted in excitent. But the mont he loosened his grip, the gem failed to transform into the jagged, void-like shape of the Shadow Realm. The shadows had indeed entered, but they dissipated just as quickly, leaving not a trace behind.
"......"
Kane stared at the gem that had just cost him one hundred and fifty Galleons.
"Sigh......"
He stuffed the rock into his pocket and let out a long, weary breath.
"How much did that rock cost? Was it a total waste?" Ron asked curiously.
"One hundred and fifty Galleons," Hermione answered for him, seeing Kane's depressed state.
In an instant, Ron beca depressed too. Different lives, different fates indeed. Kane was an orphan, yet he could pull out a hundred and fifty Galleons for a useless rock. anwhile, his own family was full and happy, but...
Forget it, forget it. Can't be envious. He traded his family for that gold. Can't be envious!
On the other side, Harry hurriedly checked his own money bag. Phew, still there. He figured Kane must have sneakily earned the money by selling his services to wealthy seniors—braiding hair or sothing.
"So what are you going to do with it? Make jewelry?" Hermione asked.
"I'll give it away for Christmas. A couple took care of for a month once; I'll consider this repaynt for the foster care," Kane muttered, pocketing the stone and turning his attention to attacking the food in front of him.
Hermione's mouth twitched. Is this how "Celestial Dragons" spend money? A hundred and fifty Galleons as a tip for a one-month nanny?
The next day...
Following the feast, the outgoing Harry and Ron had clicked instantly with the equally spirited Hermione. They had spent the entire banquet talking, finding common ground like "turtles looking at green beans."
Naturally, they dragged the introverted Kane along. The four were just a blood-oath away from being inseparable. The "trio" had evolved into a quartet—three boys and one girl. To an outsider, this team looked like they were destined for greatness.
Classes beca four to a table. They ate together, caused trouble together, complained about "non-human" professors together, and copied howork together. Specifically, Harry and Ron copied Kane and Hermione's work.
Kane found himself caught in a "passive academic race." Previously, he was the only source for copying, so his ssy scribbles were t with universal praise. Now, with Hermione—that disruptive "catfish" in the pond—the boys were actually starting to complain that his handwriting was ugly!
Spoiled. They're absolutely spoiled.
However, from that day on, Kane gradually stopped his habit of writing with his left hand. The love of roommates is so deep; they really should thank ...
On the day of the Quidditch match, Kane woke up feeling like he was half-dead. He was freezing. He looked out the window to see the Forbidden Forest stripped of its leaves, replaced by a vast, white blanket of snow.
"Winter is here?" Kane shivered, wrapping his quilt around himself. It was indeed snowing.
But the most frustrating problem was: why did blankets and robes suddenly stop working?
"Kane, doesn't your robe have a Temperature-Control Charm?" Harry asked groggily, squinting at the snow before turning to witness Kane's "abstract" fashion choice—wearing a robe and a quilt.
"I'm happy to inform you that that function is officially useless to ." Kane shivered and crawled back toward his bed. Since clothes and blankets failed, the cause was obvious.
Fire! I need fire!
He lit a small Campfire on his bedside table and finally felt a tiny bit better. Ron, woken up by the crackling and popping, stared in confusion at Kane huddled by the flas.
"Er... if my mom saw you like this, she'd wrap you in wool until you looked like a Christmas tree," Ron said, half-amused.
"If Mrs. Weasley can make warm, she will be the person I respect most in this world." Kane used his wand to ignite a burst of fire, steeled his nerves, and bolted from the campfire toward the Prestigahatitator.
He quickly crafted two Thermal Stones, infusing them with Shadow Fire. Only after holding them for a long ti did he stop shaking.
"Seriously, is your constitution that weak?" Harry asked, worried. "Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey? You're terrified of the cold."
Kane waved him off. "It's fine. By the ti sumr rolls around, I'll be terrified of the heat. You get used to it."
He decided he needed to visit Hagrid. The "Cow" (Volt Goat) he'd given Hagrid as an apology had grown up. It was ti for it to be useful... not for at, just a haircut.
"I have to handle sothing outside. Grab so breakfast, thanks." Kane left the dorm and trudged through the snow to Hagrid's hut.
When he arrived, he saw Hagrid sitting on the "Cow," clearing snow off the roof. Hagrid truly had a gift; in another world, he'd be a High Druid. He'd tad the Volt Goat without a single tool.
But...
"Where are the horns?" Kane's heart pounded. Had the goat undergone so "local adaptation" and started shedding its horns?
Hagrid jumped at the voice, then relaxed when he saw Kane. "They fell off yesterday. Right after I fed her, they just dropped naturally."
"Ah... there is hope." Kane sighed at the world's rcy. "Can I have the horns?"
"Sure, they're inside on the wall. Go ahead."
Kane sprinted inside and grabbed the pair of horns, feeling like he could kiss them. He stepped back out and asked awkwardly, "And Hagrid... can I borrow so of 'Walnut's' wool?"
Hagrid didn't understand why, but he agreed. Kane whipped out his wand and cast the Pan Flute spell. Since the spell was a "nerfed" version of the physical flute, it had beco a single-target spell. A soft, yellow-green light hit the goat.
Walnut fell into a blissful slumber. Kane imdiately began using his wand to "shear" the wool. Ollivander really was a visionary when he put those two sharp edges on my wand!
Gryffindor Common Room
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had claid a corner. A tray of breakfast for Kane sat on the coffee table.
As they wondered what he was doing out in the cold, Harry—who had the best view of the entrance—suddenly saw a horn poke through the portrait hole. Then another. Then a whole head?
"Guys, look," Harry whispered.
They watched the entrance.
Erm...
"Kane... do you have a cross-dressing fetish?"
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