Hiss... this is quite the entrance. Is this how competitive young wizards are nowadays?
Lockhart was genuinely startled by Kane's high-impact, high-prestige arrival. He wavered for a mont between trying to learn this entrance for his own future use at Hogwarts and asking where he could buy that specific model of broomstick...
In the end, he chose to pull out his pocket notebook and describe the scene vividly. It would make a fantastic opening for his next book.
Of course, he didn't forget the guest standing in his courtyard. After scribbling down the core idea, he hurried to lead Kane inside. With a few taps of his wand, he summoned cookies and hot milk tea from the cupboard, placing them before Kane.
"Ah, I must say, when Dumbledore told a young wizard needed my assistance, I never expected it to be you. From what I've heard, you're far more capable than the average student. So, what could I possibly help you with?" Lockhart asked while pouring the tea.
"...Didn't you specifically ask for ? Dumbledore told everything," Kane said bluntly, tossing a sugar-and-butter-laden cookie into his mouth. He wasn't one for beating around the bush.
Lockhart's smile twitched for a fraction of a second before he recovered his composure. "It's like this, Kane—may I call you Kane?"
When Kane nodded, Lockhart continued. "As a writer, I need a story. Every story requires an inciting incident, a journey, and a resolution. Right now, I need the 'inciting incident.'"
"Ah~" Kane nodded. "But I'm not a writer. Still, if it's no trouble, I'm happy to help. What do you need?"
"You just need to tell your plans for the sumr. I'll handle the... artistic embellishnt," Lockhart replied.
"Mhm. Task one: I need to go to sea to gather materials. I'm making sothing to upgrade my broomstick." Kane gestured toward the broom floating behind him with a look that bordered on romantic affection.
"Erm...? There's a need to upgrade that thing?"
Lockhart asked the question that had to be asked. After all, that broom had gone from a speck in the sky to a storm-bringer in Godric's Hollow in under three seconds, and it had co to a dead stop perfectly.
At that speed and level of control, the owner of the Nimbus Racing Broom Company wouldn't dare breathe a word of criticism. And now he was being told it needed an upgrade?
Seeing Lockhart's skeptical gaze, Kane nodded firmly. "Exactly. An upgrade. The kind that requires going out to sea."
Lockhart pondered for a mont and eventually nodded. Fine. Reality is a bit absurd, but after I polish it, it should make for a fine read.
Lockhart felt a surge of passion at the thought of a brand-new plot unfolding. Most importantly, since this was a "dual-protagonist" concept, Kane's role in his outline was too significant to use his usual trick—the mory Charm.
This would be a lot more work, as he'd actually have to experience the adventure, but it had a distinct advantage: it was original.
Everything else he'd written was essentially "fan-fiction" based on other people's lives. Every fan-fiction writer has a dream of creating an original work, and Lockhart was no exception.
Opposite him, Kane—happily munching on cookies—looked at the suddenly energized Lockhart with confusion. What's wrong with this guy? I'm the one doing the upgrade, not him. Why is he bouncing around?
Ah~ he's a writer. That explains it. Writers are all a bit mad.
Reasonable. Totally reasonable.
As Kane finished the cookies, he watched Lockhart find a set of proper English hunting gear and throw it on with practiced speed. Seeing Kane still eating, Lockhart paused and urged him on.
"When do we leave?"
Kane swallowed the last cookie and clapped the crumbs off his hands. "Now. Where's your broom?"
"I just moved in today; I don't have one yet. Perhaps your broom...? I feel like a broom piloted by an adult is much safer," Lockhart said, eyeing the floating DIY broom greedily.
That broom looks dangerous. Best keep the kid away from the controls. Let the big kid handle it; big kids are more durable.
Kane gave Lockhart a very shy, polite smile. "Mhm. Of course. Why don't you give it a test drive?"
With a wave of Kane's hand, the broom drifted toward Lockhart.
"Oh, how generous! I'll be very careful."
Lockhart picked up the broom gently. He wasn't lying; his movents were very soft. Unfortunately, Kane's broom was anything but gentle.
The mont Lockhart straddled it and intended to "lightly accelerate," he was launched forward at a physically impossible speed.
Kane stepped out of the house and looked up at the sky. Mhm. If all goes well, he probably won't die.
Soti later...
"Kane, I still feel like this is too dangerous! We could use Floo powder, or I could buy a Portkey! I even have a Persian enchanted carpet in my Diagon Alley ho! We don't have to use a broomstick—especially your broomstick!"
"I'll even buy you a Nimbus 2001! But this broom... I think it's better as a museum piece!"
Kane was sitting at the front of the broom, hands on the grips, finding his rhythm. Lockhart was sitting behind him, hugging Kane's waist so tightly he might as well have been tied on with rope.
"Mr. Lockhart."
"You can call Gilderoy! That's what my fans call !"
"Fine, Lockhart. Are you ready?"
"Honestly? No. And Kane, are you even listening to ?"
"Mhm. Of course not." Kane jerked the controls, and the broom scread forward. Godric's Hollow was treated to another piercing howl.
Fortunately, it was just after lunch, and the villagers were all in a deep carb-coma, sleeping soundly.
In seconds, they reached the cloud layer. Flying alone was one thing, but having a passenger was like having a co-pilot—useful for delegating tasks.
For instance, a flock of petrels was heading straight for them.
"Lockhart! Use a spell to disperse the birds!" Kane shouted over his shoulder.
"What? Disperse birds? I don't know how!" Lockhart wailed in confusion.
"How did you even graduate from Hogwarts?" Kane laughed out of pure frustration.
"I don't know! They said they were handing out diplomas, so I went!"
BOOM.
Once again, a massive hole was punched through the clouds by the atmospheric shockwave, knocking several innocent petrels—and one very guilty Lockhart—out of the sky.
"Oh, for heaven's sake." Kane steered the broom with one hand and rubbed his forehead with the other. "Where did Dumbledore dig this guy up?"
Resigned, Kane dove after him. The English Channel was just below; surely he could find materials for the Thoughtcap in the coastal waters.
With a black-streaked dive, Kane easily snatched the falling Lockhart out of the air.
"Oh! Saved!" Lockhart had never felt so happy to be caught. But Kane's expression was becoming quite grim.
"Er... Kane, why that face?" Lockhart asked nervously.
"I told you, this broomstick needs an upgrade," Kane said hollowly.
"So? Why bring that up now?"
"Because this is why it needs an upgrade." Kane raised an eyebrow. Lockhart turned around to see the ocean surface rushing toward them at terminal velocity.
Evidently, extre acceleration does not lead to easy braking.
SPLASH!
The high-speed broom, carrying two wizards, slamd into the water, sending up a small mushroom cloud of spray.
When they opened their eyes again, Kane yawned and adjusted his horned hat. He looked at Little Pumpkin and his broom, which were waiting patiently on the sand... and then at Lockhart.
He looked at the beach beneath him and the small forest behind them. He struggled to suppress a grin. This beginning... is unexpectedly familiar.
"Er... where are we? Where did the waves take us? Is this still England?" Lockhart sat up, coughing out seawater, looking around the small island in a daze.
He watched as Kane imdiately sprang into action. Kane spent the next few minutes scouring the island for grass and sticks, then chopped down a few trees.
What followed was a display of craftsmanship that put Transfiguration to sha.
Lockhart watched as Kane built a massive, person-sized machine (a Science Machine) in seconds. Then, using the machine as a backrest, Kane literally hand-crafted a massive wooden raft with nothing but his bare hands.
"Oh, if I write this in my book, the readers will call it rubbish," Lockhart muttered.
Kane waved him over. "Co on, help push this into the water!"
Lockhart scrambled over and helped shove the heavy raft into the surf. Kane nimbly loaded the broom and the sentient Little Pumpkin onto the raft, then hopped on himself. He paused, then reached out and hauled Lockhart aboard as well.
"So... what are we doing now?" Lockhart asked weakly.
"Raet survival, maybe?" Kane shrugged. What was he supposed to say? That he'd gone to all this trouble just to catch a jellyfish? He could have just gone to a fish market...
Wait. Why didn't I just go to a fish market?
Kane suddenly went silent, paralyzed by his own logic.
As the raft drifted, Lockhart watched Kane cycle through expressions of laughter, frustration, and sudden battle-readiness.
Nervous, Lockhart gripped his wand. He hadn't used a proper offensive spell in years, and he wasn't sure he could take a first-year who had soloed a troll, but his wand was the only source of security he had left.
The boy is clearly mad. And that hat is just weird.
A writer has to protect himself.
At that mont, Kane pulled out his own wand. Lockhart nearly jumped out of his skin, but Kane ignored him. He simply poked the wand into the water, swirled it around, and quickly hauled up a jellyfish.
"Say, Kane," Lockhart said, trying to break the ice before the "mad" boy turned on him. "Do you mind telling exactly what we're here for?"
Kane didn't hide it. "To make a special hat. I call it a Thoughtcap. I'm here for the ingredients."
"Ah~ And what are the ingredients? Are we done?"
"I needed a jellyfish and two pieces of rope. I have those now. There's just one thing left," Kane said, staring directly at Lockhart.
"What is it? Maybe I can help? If I have it, I'll give it freely!" Lockhart puffed out his chest, desperate to build so goodwill.
"The final ingredient," Kane said slowly, "is a Brain."
Lockhart: "???"
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