As the stone gargoyle began grinding and clattering aside, Kane raised his eyebrows at Harry and Ron. "Shall we go in?"
Harry and Ron exchanged glances. "Of course."
The three climbed the revolving staircase until they reached the door to the Headmaster's office, where they stopped and sat down in a row on the steps.
From behind the door came a muffled buzzing sound, like people inside were having a heated argument, though the Silencing Charm had reduced it to indistinct noise.
Suddenly, Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and looked back at Dumbledore, her expression severe. "You're going to regret this."
Dumbledore's voice drifted out, quiet and measured. "Minerva, I am the Headmaster."
Professor McGonagall looked ready to explode. Then she turned around and spotted the three of them sitting on the stairs. She took a deep breath, walked past them without a word, and left.
"I'm starting to think we should've stayed in the common room," Ron muttered. Who knew they'd show up right in the middle of the Headmaster and their Head of House having it out? Weren't they basically walking into a minefield?
But the furious Dumbledore they'd expected didn't materialize. Instead, a calm voice said, "Ah, it's you three. What can I do for you?"
Kane stood up and brushed off his pants. "What were you and Professor McGonagall fighting about?"
"A particular professor, but don't worry, everything is under control," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Now, what brings you three here?"
"Harry and Ron wanted to ask about your opening speech." Seeing Harry and Ron sitting there looking timid, Kane asked the question for them.
"The truth is, there really isn't any hidden meaning. If you ask your older housemates, you'll find the opening speech is different every year, just like the Sorting Hat's song," Dumbledore explained patiently.
"All right, Professor Dumbledore, we understand. We'll get going," Harry and Ron said, standing up. After saying goodbye, they started toward the door.
But Kane had one more thing to try, his "what's the worst that could happen" plan. "Do you have any gold lying around? Like, shiny coins or anything?"
"You need some? Ah, I think I know what you're planning. Unfortunately, though I'm Headmaster of Hogwarts, most of my salary goes to the Hogwarts Orphan Fund. I'm afraid I'm not your best bet," Dumbledore said, shaking his head.
"Really? The fund's that strapped for cash?" Kane asked.
"I'm afraid so. Because of Voldemort, the number of orphaned students at Hogwarts has stayed stubbornly high these past few years.
Pure-blood families would rather spend hundreds of Galleons on some piece of magical art than give orphaned wizards the chance to wear new robes."
After Dumbledore finished speaking, Kane and Harry barely reacted, but Ron flinched. Still, seeing that it was Dumbledore who'd said the name, he relaxed.
No matter how powerful and terrifying Voldemort had been, he'd been gone for years. And Dumbledore was here at Hogwarts. Could he really be operating right under Dumbledore's nose?
No way.
"Well, hopefully those pure-blood families come around soon. We'll head out now," Kane said, already moving toward the door with Harry and Ron, as casual as if he'd only come up here to bother Dumbledore before bed.
"By the way, tomorrow morning you have Defense Against the Dark Arts. I suggest you get to bed early and make a good first impression on Professor Quirrell," Dumbledore reminded them.
"Will do."
The three said their goodbyes and rushed back to the Gryffindor common room, making it just before curfew.
The moment they got back to the dormitory, Harry and Ron couldn't hold it in any longer. "Okay, seriously, why?"
"How can you just walk into the Headmaster's office like that?"
"And you two seem really comfortable with each other?"
Kane sat on his bed, keeping his expression neutral. "Didn't I tell you? Dumbledore was the one who delivered my acceptance letter."
Harry and Ron went quiet for a moment. Since there weren't many Muggle-born students at Hogwarts, there weren't many occasions when professors had to personally fetch new students.
And when it did happen, it created a special connection between the professor and the young wizard.
Just as parents brought a child into the world, the person who first brought a young wizard into the magical world held a unique relationship with them. At least before Sorting, they'd be on good terms.
And if during the Sorting Ceremony the young wizard ended up in the same House as that professor, the student would gain something like protégé status. They might even leave behind one of those legendary mentor-student stories that became part of Hogwarts history.
Of course, if they were Sorted into different Houses, the relationship would still be better than average. When that professor gave students a hard time, they'd skip over that particular wizard. Unless the professor was especially petty, that is.
"If the person who brought me into the magical world was someone like Professor Dumbledore... heh... hehe... hehehe..."
Kane and Harry just watched Ron drift off into fantasy.
The guy had completely lost it. Well, that settled things, time for bed.
The next day, the three arrived early at Defense Against the Dark Arts. Just from the name alone, Dark Arts and Defense, you could tell this course would be intense.
After a while, the other Gryffindor students filed in. When they saw Kane and his friends already sitting in the front row, their expressions turned odd.
The three of them were well-liked, so why hadn't anyone warned them about Professor Quirrell?
Neville and his two roommates glanced at each other, all three speaking at once: "I thought you guys told them!"
"Should we tell them to move to the back?"
"Nah, better not. Look at Kane, he's giving us a weird look."
Kane was giving them a weird look. Why did everyone keep saying they needed to sit in the back for Professor Quirrell's class?
And it wasn't just them. Last night, Dumbledore had mentioned getting to bed early to make a good impression on Professor Quirrell.
Was this Professor Quirrell the strictest teacher at Hogwarts? The type who'd take points off for breathing wrong?
Well, he wasn't worried. Take points if you want; it's not like they're taking his money.
Just as he clung to that childish thought, an overpowering smell of garlic wafted into the classroom from the hallway.