Looking at the little girl with red-rimmed eyes glaring at him with stubborn concern, Kai Adler's heart melted completely.
He had long grown used to facing things alone. In his previous life, he would study in isolation, tucked into the corner of a cold library, late into the night. His family's love was never voiced—just stern expectations and cold reminders to succeed.
And in this life, the first hand stretched out to him was Grindelwald's. The old man had raised him with even greater ruthlessness—letting him collapse from magical exertion, only to offer a dry, "Not bad," before walking away.
It wasn't that he had never known affection—but both in his past and present lives, love came wrapped in ambition and demand.
Hermione, however, was different. Her worry was unfiltered, uncalculated—utterly sincere. She cared, not because of who he could become, but because of who he was.
His gaze softened as he pinched her cheek—only to have her slap his hand away, huffing indignantly.
"I'm fine now," he said with a wry smile. "As for what I was doing…"
His eyes flicked to the two eavesdropping boys nearby. "I'll tell you later."
Predictably, Harry and Ron made faces of disappointment.
"But it's good that you're back," Harry sighed. "Any longer and they'd have accused me of killing you."
Kai chuckled softly. Me? Taken down by you?
The corners of his lips twitched upward. Was Harry truly so dangerous in their eyes? Or had his 'Boy Who Lived' title inflated expectations and fears alike?
"What happened?" he asked, settling into a deep armchair, black tea in hand, legs casually crossed.
Harry launched into the tale—his Parseltongue incident at the Duelling Club, the petrified student later found alone, and the rumors now rampant that he was the Heir of Slytherin.
Kai exchanged a glance with Hermione. They both knew the truth behind the Chamber of Secrets—and had once narrowly escaped the Basilisk themselves.
Kai leaned back thoughtfully. Hermione's mischievous fingers had found their way to his waist again, and he subtly pressed her hand down, amused.
"So," he said, "you're telling me… every time you hear strange hissing voices, someone ends up petrified?"
Harry nodded slowly.
"Fascinating," Kai murmured. "And yet you continue to follow the sound?"
Harry flushed. "Well, I didn't know what it was… I just—"
"Let me guess. You didn't report it because you were afraid they'd actually believe you were the culprit?"
Harry fell silent, looking slightly ashamed.
Kai tilted his head, propping his face against his knuckles, eyes unreadable. "So… what's your plan? Track down the Chamber of Secrets and clear your name?"
"Of course!" Harry replied, his voice full of Gryffindor certainty.
Kai merely shrugged. "Well, far be it from me to stop a noble quest."
Honestly, he didn't believe Harry stood a chance against the Basilisk. But if Dumbledore had placed his hopes in the boy, perhaps there was more to him than met the eye. Letting him investigate might even lead to useful clues. After all, Kai had his own reason to find the true heir.
He added quietly, "You're a Parselmouth. So was Salazar Slytherin. The link's clear enough. But every time you hear the voice, someone gets attacked. Don't you think there's a deeper pattern?"
Ron looked confused, but Harry seemed thoughtful at last.
As their conversation tapered off, Kai stood, and—without warning—pulled Hermione toward the boys' dormitory.
One thing about Hogwarts always made him raise an eyebrow: boys couldn't enter the girls' dormitory, thanks to enchanted staircases. But girls could walk freely into the boys' space.
Equality, he thought dryly. A one-way street at Hogwarts.
Hermione said nothing as he led her inside—clearly nervous about stepping foot into the dorm for the first time.
Inside, the room was as expected: clutter everywhere, except for Kai's corner, which was impeccably neat. His bed was made with military precision, his desk organized with German efficiency. The contrast with Ron and Harry's chaotic half of the room was… stark.
"They could've used a spell," Hermione muttered, wrinkling her nose. "Are they even too lazy to cast one?"
Kai smirked, watching her expression with amusement.
She accepted the black tea and shortbread he offered with mock complaint. "You keep feeding me these. I swear I've gained weight."
Kai's eyes traced her delicate jaw and slender neck, unamused by the comment. "Where? You haven't gained an ounce. And even if you did, I wouldn't mind."
Hermione's cheeks flushed pink. "Who cares what you mind?"
She glared at him, puffing her cheeks out like an indignant squirrel, though her ears were going red too.
But she didn't resist when he gently pressed her into his chair.
"You haven't answered my question," she said after a pause. "What happened these past three days? Was it the Obscurus?"
"You guessed it…" Kai admitted, eyes dropping for a moment.
He told her part of the truth: that once a month, the Obscurus inside him erupted—often violently.
What he didn't tell her was that this time, the eruption had nearly killed him.
Killing those two traffickers—his first act of murder—had left a permanent imprint on his magic. The Obscurus had grown wilder, more sentient, and now… he felt it hungered.
This cycle would only worsen. If he couldn't subdue the Obscurus entirely, it would consume him—just as it had every other Obscurial in history.
There was no cure. Not yet. All he could do was grow stronger. Delay the inevitable.
Hermione didn't know any of this in detail, but her intuition told her the truth was grim. She watched him quietly, then reached over and clasped his hand.
Her palm was soft, her fingers warm.
"No matter what happens, I'll be by your side."
Kai looked at her, a faint smile curling his lips.
"…Okay."