Before Kane and the others could react, Snape's pale, stark light swept over them. "Ah... Kane Heiss, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger.
Why don't you four explain what exactly is going on here?" Snape said in his slow, rhythmic drawl.
Harry and Ron exchanged a look of hopeless resignation. Their points were gone, and they were in for a legendary scolding.
Hermione felt even worse. In her world, losing points was functionally no different from the sky falling—especially with Snape. Everyone knew he had a particular distaste for Gryffindor; falling into his hands was never going to end well.
Unlike the three of them and their frantic internal monologues, Kane opted for pure honesty. When Snape asked, he answered: "I just got back from the Forbidden Forest with Professor Quirrell."
Snape's expression stiffened for a split second. At that mont, he had only one thought: Dumbledore truly deserves to be cursed. He really was dragging every "special" person he could find into his little deck of talent cards.
Now Harry was his pawn, Snape himself was his pawn, and Ron and Hermione had beco Harry's dedicated support squad. Now, even Kane had been pulled onto the board by whatever sche Dumbledore had cooked up.
He truly couldn't fathom what Dumbledore was thinking. This young wizard wasn't like a normal student—or even like Snape himself—who could be easily managed. Soone like Kane was the type Snape preferred to avoid entirely, minimizing contact for a lifeti if possible.
But Dumbledore? He practically invited the boy into his inner circle. He'd probably only learn his lesson once Kane did sothing truly catastrophic right under his nose.
After a mont of silence, Snape spoke slowly. "Mr. Heiss, follow . As for the three of you... why are you not already in bed?"
For a second, Harry and Ron felt like they had cheated death. Hermione... well, she should have known.
Only after the three of them had vanished at the end of the corridor did Snape let out a sharp tsk. He had forgotten to deduct points.
"Follow . Is Dumbledore still awake?" Snape asked as he limped ahead, intending to use Kane's answer to decide whether to lead him up to the office or down to the dungeons.
"He should be," Kane replied.
Snape stopped dead. He turned to frown at Kane. "Your trip to the Forest with Quirrell wasn't arranged by Dumbledore?"
"He suggested I take the initiative, but he knew about it. Wait, Professor Snape... I'm starting to get the feeling you know everything."
Kane looked at Snape with a peculiar expression, his lips curling into an unnatural arc. Did this an that in the Great Theater of Hogwarts, the students were the only actors while everyone else was a director?
"Do not concern yourself with . Let us find Dumbledore. You should tell him exactly what happened with Quirrell... unless you believe yourself to be cleverer than Albus Dumbledore?" Snape turned and began walking toward the Headmaster's office.
"Aha."
Soon, the two arrived at the stone gargoyle. Before they could even knock, the door swung open.
"What a tily arrival. I was just about to have so Mandrake tea," Dumbledore said, stepping out from the bedroom area in a pair of pink pajamas. "Though I must say, I never expected to see the two of you together. I thought you avoided Kane like a mountain troll, Severus."
"Under normal circumstances, certainly," Snape replied, taking a seat on the sofa. "Mr. Heiss has just returned from the Forbidden Forest with Quirrell."
"I am aware," Dumbledore said. "So, did Quirrell do anything strange?"
Kane shrugged as he sat in a chair. "Once we got into the woods, he was like a different person. No stuttering, full of confidence.
He told he was dying, insulted you for a bit, and said he needs unicorn blood and the Philosopher's Stone to survive.
Oh, and he wants to co to his office every Wednesday for 'private lessons.' Not sure if it'll be Quirrell or... Tom?"
"Ah, most likely Tom will be the one teaching you. He always did have a great passion for being a professor."
Dumbledore had barely finished his sentintal remark when Snape let out a sharp cough.
"Fine. So, what exactly did the two of you do?"
"He needed to drink unicorn blood, so I... I was just an accomplice. That's it." Once Kane finished, Snape stood up slowly. He felt the need to check if Kane had been placed under the Imperius Curse or so other dark influence.
Dumbledore raised a hand to stay him.
"There is no need. In any case, Kane, prepare for your Wednesday lesson. Before you go, stop by Severus's office for a bottle of Brain Mist Potion, would you? It will prevent Tom from seeing certain things in your mind. I know you have a natural talent for this, but it's best to be safe."
"Then I'll be going?"
Dumbledore nodded.
As the door closed behind Kane, Snape moved to sit directly across from Dumbledore. "You're letting the Dark Lord teach Kane Heiss? Are you not afraid of raising a third-generation Dark Lord?"
Dumbledore, of course, was not afraid. At most, Voldemort would teach Kane genuine magical theory to satisfy his own ego as a teacher; he wouldn't waste his breath on his "unhealthy" ideologies.
To Voldemort, Kane was just a locked treasure chest of magic. Why bother explaining the "greatness" of his vision to a box?
Snape looked at Dumbledore's composed face. "Don't tell you're going to say that boy has 'love' in his heart again?"
That reminded him. Dumbledore nodded. "Precisely. The boy has love. Therefore, I believe he will not be led astray by Voldemort."
Snape truly didn't know how to continue. He stood up, dropping a final sentence as he turned to leave. "...I'm going back to brew potions."
"While you're at it, brew a batch of tooth-strengthening potion. My teeth have been a bit sensitive lately," Dumbledore called out.
Snape's footsteps faltered. Should I opt for selective deafness? Would that work? Fine, I'll brew it. But I'll make sure it tastes absolutely foul.
On the other side, Kane returned to the Gryffindor common room. Harry and the others hadn't gone to bed; they were huddled by the fireplace waiting for him.
Seeing him return, they perked up and crowded around, asking where Snape had taken him and what had happened.
"Just a trip to the Headmaster's office to chat about so random things," Kane said with a yawn.
Hermione looked relieved. "Then we can rest easy. I need to get to bed; there's class tomorrow."
Kane agreed. He needed sleep. As for Harry and Ron's ongoing whispers about Nicolas Flal and the fourth-floor corridor... he'd treat it as a bedti story. It was quite effective.
The next day...
During breakfast in the Great Hall, almost all four houses and half the faculty were staring at a single student at the Gryffindor table.
There sat Kane, wearing his Beefalo Hat with a Top Hat stacked on top of it. The horns of the Beefalo Hat were adorned with two floral wreaths. He had so many layers of hats on that he was only missing a white Christmas cap to complete the tower.
With a poof, the long-absent Maxwell appeared behind him, patting him on the shoulder.
"You don't look like you're doing so well."
"And do you have so brilliant insight to share?" Kane asked, mid-sandwich.
"No brilliant insight. But I can see plenty of things you can't."
"Like what?"
"Death has entangled you."
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