In the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore pulled out two glass bottles—one red, one blue. "Pepsi or Coca-Cola?"
Kane thought for a split second. "Iced Coke."
Dumbledore: "..."
"...OK."
Soon, a chilled glass of cola was placed before Kane.
"Ah, overall, the cleanup was quite successful. You and Harry are unhard—Harry should wake up by tomorrow morning—and Quirrell's death was... quite thorough," Dumbledore remarked.
"I wouldn't say 'successful,'" Kane replied, raising an eyebrow. "If the plan had gone smoothly, Quirrell wouldn't have exploded."
Dumbledore offered an encouraging look, and Kane didn't hold back.
"The goal was to pull both Quirrell and... Tom to the other side of that door. Instead, it ended in a detonation."
"And your conclusion?" Dumbledore asked patiently.
"Tom has a way to prevent himself from leaving this world. I'm just not sure if it's a 'thod' or a 'tether,'" Kane explained.
"Mhm." Dumbledore leaned back, his fingers interlacing. "Would you mind telling how you know this? Specifically, regarding that door."
Kane pursed his lips, glancing down at the Eye Bone in his hand. After a mont of deliberation, he decided that the secrets of the Constant were better left unshared with Dumbledore.
The silence stretched for ten seconds before Dumbledore let out a jolly laugh. "Don't mind , Kane. I was being forward.
We've known each other for less than a year, and more importantly, everyone is entitled to their secrets. It was quite rude of to pry, wasn't it?"
Kane nodded. "It was."
"I expected you to give an 'out' there," Dumbledore said with a wry smile.
"Should I apologize instead?"
Dumbledore waved him off. "Heavens, no. Is there anything you'd like to ask ?"
"No. Honestly, if you hadn't brought here, I'd be asleep in the dorms," Kane muttered.
"Then I won't keep you. But didn't your little pet get left behind in the chamber?"
"His na is Chester... but I am curious. He should have followed by now. I need to find him before I turn in." Kane left the office, intent on retrieving his "Little Pumpkin."
As he exited the gargoyle's entrance, he was imdiately snatched up by Ron and Hermione, who appeared to have been lurking.
"Kane! What happened in there?" Ron asked urgently. "Why is Harry so beat up?"
"I'll tell you later, but I'm in a rush." Kane gestured toward the gargoyle, which obligingly stepped aside. "Why don't you ask the man who knows everything? Dumbledore is right in there."
Ron and Hermione shared a look. Asking Dumbledore? It was worth a shot.
After dumping his friends on the Headmaster, Kane returned to the third floor. He humd a tune to soothe the Cerberus and peered down the trapdoor. Below, Little Pumpkin was hopping frantically, unable to reach the ledge—looking thoroughly pitiful.
Kane commanded the tentacles to form stairs again, and Chester duang-ed his way up.
"Mhm. Max really delivered. I like it." Kane patted Chester's large head and spoke to the empty air, hoping Maxwell was listening.
On his way back, he detoured to the hospital wing to check on Harry, but Madam Pomfrey blocked the door. He found Ron and Hermione already sitting outside, looking equally dejected.
"Hello there. You two got kicked out too?" Kane asked, hopping onto Chester and using him as a stool.
"Kane, you never told us you and Harry were on such a... dangerous adventure," Ron said. He sounded less worried and more disappointed that he'd missed out.
"It is dangerous, Ron. Don't be so casual; they nearly died today," Hermione scolded.
"It was fine," Kane said, gesturing for her to lower her voice lest Madam Pomfrey return.
"Will this all be kept a secret?" Hermione whispered.
"There's half a month left in the term. Unlikely," Kane yawned. "Dumbledore has to hire a new professor since Quirrell... popped."
He stood up and stretched. "Anyway, we can't get in. Let's go sleep."
"Wait, Kane—your stool," Ron pointed at Chester. "That thing is adorable. Can you make one?"
"He's not a stool. Follow , Little Pumpkin." Chester hopped after him imdiately.
At that mont, Ron's desire for a "walking stool" reached its peak. He jogged to catch up. "What is it? A magical creature? An alchemical construct? It's so cool!"
Even Hermione looked tempted. While she couldn't match a "Celestial Noble's" spending habits, she wanted one if the price was right.
"You can't buy him. There's only one, and he was a gift." Kane stopped and patted Chester. "And he's not just a stool; he's a chest."
With the quiet pride of soone showing off a new toy, Kane signaled Chester to open his mouth.
The three of them fell into imdiate silence.
"Who sent you this gift? Can you introduce ?" Ron whispered hollowly.
"Ron, have so dignity..." Hermione tried to nudge him, but her own eyes were wide.
It wasn't just them; even Kane was stunned. He stared at the interior of Chester, which was packed to the brim with shimring gemstones of every color. He took a deep breath.
"Max... you are now, without a doubt, the most authoritative person I know. Bar none."
Maxwell didn't answer—likely playing it cool or busy cleaning up the ss in the Constant. Regardless, Kane wouldn't have to worry about gems for a long ti.
The next morning, the trio fetched Harry from the hospital wing. Harry, having missed the entire "Gem Reveal," was briefed on the fact that Quirrell was gone and Voldemort had fled.
At the Great Hall, Dumbledore gave a rousing speech and awarded Gryffindor a massive 200 points. For Harry, it was turning into a perfect day.
Until the "Thunderbolt" hit.
Because Professor Quirrell had "exploded with joy," Dumbledore announced the interim replacent.
"For the remaining two weeks of the term, the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor will be held by Professor Severus Snape."
In that instant, the sky fell for Kane and Harry. Well, technically only for two weeks... how many classes could he possibly have?
Wait... the next period is DADA?
Oh. The sky didn't just fall. It crushed them.
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