Neville looked at Kane with a puzzled expression, clearly unsure why he had reacted so strongly.
Hermione, however, suddenly realized and buried her face in her hands, muttering through gritted teeth, "How did I not think of this sooner?"
Kane glared at the toad in Neville's hands with disgust, though fortunately, this one had manners. At least it was not going to suddenly lash out and latch onto him.
"We just wanted to thank you. Without you, we would have been in serious trouble."
Hermione shot forward and gave Kane a quick, sharp bow, then straightened abruptly.
Neville followed, though his was more genuine. "If you need anything, I can give you anything I have. Maybe some of Trevor's slime?"
Kane could not help but smirk. There was no need to go overboard, but Neville's comment did remind him of something. After all, frogs.
"Mind if I touch him?" Kane asked.
"Of course not," Neville replied eagerly.
"Thanks." Kane did not use his hands. Instead, shadows crept up the frog's body and merged with it.
Neville froze, staring in shock. Dude, I just wanted you to pet him. Why does it feel like you are trying to harm Trevor?
As Neville watched, the shadow-corrupted frog's skin turned a sickly green.
Red pustules appeared across its belly, and its eyes glowed. It squatted in Neville's hand, rotated slowly, and then shot out its tongue.
"Ah!" Neville yelped.
"Whoa!" Kane exclaimed. When the frog's tongue hit Neville, he dropped loot.
"That is enough," Kane said, feeling a surge of excitement. He quickly withdrew the shadow from Trevor.
The frog returned to normal, but Neville looked shaken. "Did I do something wrong? I am sorry."
Hermione glanced at Kane in disbelief. "What just happened to Trevor? Was that you?"
"Just an experiment," Kane said casually. "Anyway, thanks, Neville. Trevor has answered my question."
Before Kane could say more, Professor McGonagall called his name from the stage.
"But it is my turn to be sorted," Kane said. "Do not worry, Neville. Trevor is fine. And pick up what you dropped."
He pointed to a brooch on the floor where Trevor had licked it off.
"Gryffindor, guys."
Harry and Ron patted Kane on the shoulder, and he accepted it without protest.
He just wanted to be in the same house as his friends. Cultural differences between houses did not matter. If everyone else was a car choosing a path, he was a steamroller.
Kane climbed onto the stool. The Sorting Hat descended over his head and gasped.
"Hmm, a kind young wizard, not very ambitious, knowledge level average. Hufflepuff could suit you."
"Not really. I want to be with my friends. Gryffindor."
"Gryffindor, eh? A young wizard afraid of frogs and darkness. Yet you have no fear of giving a pureblood heir a good beating. Then"
"Gryffindor!" Kane's voice rang in his mind as the Hat shouted its verdict. Relief washed over him, and Harry and Ron breathed easier too.
Dumbledore smiled and raised his glass. Even Snape seemed relieved Kane was not heading to Slytherin.
The Great Hall buzzed with excitement, though McGonagall looked less than thrilled. Gryffindor already had enough troublemakers, but nobody had ever pulled a stunt like this on the first day. Unless the unexpected happened, the House Cup for the next seven years was practically gone.
Kane sat at the Gryffindor table. The three Weasley brothers he had met before came over.
"Congratulations, Kane. Welcome to Gryffindor, where bravery matters," said the tall, serious Percy.
"Well, the Sorting Hat almost sent me to Hufflepuff," Kane shrugged.
"Brave yet kind, that is a great combination. You will make many friends here," Percy added, his polite smile never wavering.
He looked like a high-ranking official, or like Maxwell the first time Kane met him, full of authority and self-importance.
Meanwhile, the twins finally had someone to help them undo the Silencing Charm Percy had cast.
One pulled Percy aside while the other casually draped an arm around Kane's shoulders and launched into a lecture on Gryffindor life.
Prefects? Useless. Just a privileged class the professors use to boss students around. Kane should not worry about it.
"Who is the prefect?" George asked, pointing at Percy, who was still tangled with Fred. "That is him."
Then applause erupted again. "We got Potter!" Harry Potter entered, grinning like an excited eleven-year-old and took his seat.
One minute later, Ron joined them. Gradually, the rest of the first-years were sorted. Hermione and Neville ended up in Gryffindor too, the latter surprisingly brave despite his timid demeanor.
Dumbledore stood and raised his glass, giving the usual warnings: do not go into the fourth-floor corridor, do not enter the Forbidden Forest. Then he added, in his eccentric way:
"Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak. Let us eat!"
The hall erupted in chatter and the sound of feasting. Harry and Ron eagerly stuffed their plates. Kane ate too, though his mind was elsewhere.
First, he considered experimenting with giving his magic the traits of a frog's tongue: hit once, and they would drop loot; hit again, more loot. Perfect.
Second, he wondered what those four words Dumbledore had said actually meant.
"Are you wondering too? About those four words?" Hermione finally asked across the table.
She had always assumed Kane was some highborn snob who would look down on Muggle-borns like them.
After seeing him in the entrance hall, she realized he wasn't so bad. He seemed like someone she could actually talk to.
"I am not just curious," Kane admitted. "I am planning to ask Dumbledore later."
He returned to his meal.
When the feast ended, prefects escorted their houses to the dormitories. Kane, however, left the group and headed straight to the Headmaster's tower on the eighth floor.
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