Quirrell immediately grabbed the parchment with one hand and Kane's wand hand with the other.
"If you want this, this reading list, you only need to stay. Stay here!"
At that moment, Professor Quirrell abruptly became the sort of beast Kane felt deserved the smallest possible serving of Avada Kedavra.
"Oh, then I don't want it."
Kane gave up on the reading list without hesitation and tried to yank his arm free. It would not budge.
"Professor?" Kane asked, raising an eyebrow.
"K-Kane, I only want you to receive a real education. You..."
Before Quirrell could finish, the swamp that had been lashing around in the distance suddenly doubled in size.
Its tentacles whipped toward Quirrell, but two invisible blades cut them in half before they could strike him.
Quirrell jumped in fright, as though he had not expected Kane to actually attack. He immediately drew his wand.
A red glow caught Kane's wand, ready to disarm him the instant Quirrell chose to act.
Only after that did he stare at Kane in shock.
"A-are you going to attack a professor?"
Kane shrugged. "Of course not."
His wand hand did not move. Instead, he reached into his pocket with his other hand and took out the Pan Flute.
"Goodbye, Professor. Sleep well."
Kane put the Pan Flute to his lips and blew a descending scale.
Almost instantly, an irresistible drowsiness washed over Quirrell and even Voldemort inside his head.
The moment they heard the Pan Flute, both master and servant had the same thought.
They finally knew how to get past the three-headed dog guarding the trapdoor without harm. If only they had Kane's...
Thump!
Poor Quirrell fell over.
Unlike Quirrell, who was already asleep, Voldemort held out much longer. He quickly shook off the drowsiness, took control of Quirrell's body, and found that Kane had long since vanished.
"An innate and unusual Dark magic..." Voldemort murmured. As he spoke, he assaulted Quirrell's soul with Cruciatus Curses until the recently unconscious Quirrell came back online.
"M-Master, what did you say?" Quirrell asked fearfully.
"I said that this young wizard, Kane Heath, contains a wholly new and unusual kind of Dark magic, unlike anything previously known in the wizarding world. And it is innate," Voldemort said with a sigh.
"Y-you mean like an Obscurial?" Quirrell asked.
"No. An Obscurial is a wizard inhabited by a powerful existence. But this boy, Kane Heath, is himself a powerful existence. I need his power. Prepare a ritual circle for me, my most loyal servant."
"O-of course. A power that great is not something a young wizard can control. Naturally, it must be wielded by you, M-master," Quirrell flattered him automatically.
As for what might happen to Kane after his power was taken, Quirrell had no interest in considering it.
Meanwhile, in the headmaster's office...
"That Quirrell is kind of disgusting," Kane said flatly over a cup of black tea. He was starting to regret not kicking Quirrell a few times while the Pan Flute had put him to sleep.
"Mm." Dumbledore watched the events in Quirrell's office through his crystal ball and nodded. "It seems they have set their sights on you. Perhaps I should have given this task to a young wizard who would attract less attention. That was my error."
Kane looked at Dumbledore's utterly unchanged expression and wondered whether the old man truly thought it was his own fault.
"Forget it. At least this trip wasn't a complete loss. Professor Quirrell's reading list... um, I think he actually knows quite a lot. Anyway, I'm heading out."
Kane tucked the list into his pocket and started for the door.
"There is no need to fill your schedule so completely. Halloween is only a few days away.
Perhaps you would like to enjoy yourself for a while before returning to your studies?" Dumbledore said with a raised brow. He sincerely thought Kane was working too hard.
"No, Professor. I'm happy this way."
Kane opened the headmaster's office door and found Professor Snape standing outside in black robes, looking as cool and composed as ever.
"Ah, Mr. Heath. I have good news. The potion you required has been brewed ahead of schedule."
Since Kane was here, Snape did not need to wait for an opportunity or send an owl. He raised an eyebrow, took a gray potion bottle from his pocket, and handed it to Kane.
"Thank you, Professor Snape."
Kane accepted the potion and left.
"What potion was that? You know, one's eyesight grows poor with age," Dumbledore asked, curious as ever.
"Quite plainly, Mr. Heath received a token from Hagrid's spider nest without recognizing the relationship between Hagrid and the spiders.
Now, for the sake of this so-called friendship, he intends to erase the evidence of his own mistake with a more cruel deception."
For once, Snape said it without a trace of mockery. He was simply stating the facts.
"Ah. A man capable of brewing his own Memory Potion certainly speaks with confidence," Dumbledore said with a smile.
Ever since Snape had mocked him over the crystal ball, he had been waiting to return the favor.
While the headmaster's office engaged in its warm little exchange of barbs, Kane curled up inside the Prestihatitator's oversized hat and read.
It felt as though the thing had boosted his study efficiency to a frightening degree.
To Harry and Ron, however, he looked ready to be committed to a psychiatric hospital.
"Halloween is in two days. If we put Kane out there looking like that, we'd probably get loads of candy," Ron remarked.
Harry nodded, then shook his head. He had never gone trick-or-treating while living with the Dursleys, though Dudley went every year.
But Dudley was unlike other children. Other kids played tricks if they did not get candy. Dudley would not stop causing trouble unless he got candy.
How could Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia possibly think someone like that was a good boy?
Kane gave the two mortals a dismissive glance from inside the hat and switched to another book. By the time Harry and Ron were staring in bewilderment, he had already finished one.
In short: ordinary mortals were boring.
That evening...
After dinner in the Great Hall, Harry and Ron brought packed food and knocked on the Prestihatitator's oversized hat.
Kane had finally understood the last book on Quirrell's reading list. It was time to go to the Forbidden Forest and put his new magic into practice.
When Kane crawled out of the hat, he felt like a cold, ruthless wizard. He should head into the Forbidden Forest, slaughter some spiders, erase some memories, stockpile materials, and get some sleep.
Then a bite of house-elf cooking went into his mouth, and he was instantly blissed out. All the kindness and beauty in life returned to him. So what was there to say about that plan to slaughter spiders?
He still felt bad for Hagrid, but the same principle applied.
He could not make emotional decisions.
Over this period, he had learned from the professors that only the spider leader, Aragog, had a deep bond with Hagrid.
The other spiders? They were simply contributing to the ecological health of the Forbidden Forest.
Harry and Ron watched Kane's expression change ten times over the course of one meal. This time, they did not even exchange looks. They were used to it.
Late that night, the spider nest in the Forbidden Forest received its strictest father.
Following the route he had taken behind the fully responsible little spider last time, Kane once again found Aragog.
But this time, before Aragog could say a word or any of his children could attack, Kane flicked his wand and sent every spider into a baby's sleep.
First, he poured the Memory Potion Snape had prepared into Aragog's mouth.
According to Snape, it could erase all memories from the last month. Then Kane went through the familiar process of collecting materials.
Huge quantities of silk, spider glands, and Monster Meat came first. Then he gathered ordinary materials such as logs, grass, stone, and reeds.
Once he had collected nearly everything and was about to leave the Forbidden Forest for the castle...
"O-oh, t-today is quite l-lucky."
Kane wore the same bitter smile.
"You can say that again, Professor Quirrell."