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Neville looked at Kane with confusion, unable to understand why he had such a violent reaction to a toad. Hermione, however, suddenly remembered Kane's "Frog Rain" story and groaned, covering her face with her hands.
"How did I not remember that sooner!" she muttered through gritted teeth.
Kane looked at the toad in Neville's hand with pure revulsion. Fortunately, Trevor seemed polite enough; at least he didn't suddenly whip out his tongue and latch onto Kane's arm.
"We just came to thank you. If it wasn't for you, we'd be in a terrible spot," Hermione said, bowing suddenly like a coiled spring before snapping back upright.
Neville did the same, though his offer was a bit more... literal. "If you need anything, I'll give you whatever I have. Maybe you'd like some of Trevor's mucus?"
Okay, maybe don't be that literal, Kane thought.
But Neville had actually given him an idea. After all, frogs in the Constant were a different breed...
"Do you mind if I touch him for a second?" Kane asked.
"Of course not!" Neville said quickly, holding Trevor out.
"Thanks." Kane didn't use his hands. Instead, he let a sliver of shadow crawl up the toad's body, merging into its skin.
Neville watched in shock. Wait, mate, I meant for you to pet the little guy, not turn him into a science experiment!
As the shadow seeped in, Trevor's skin turned a sickly, neon green, dotted with pulsating red pustules. His eyes glowed with an eerie light. Sitting in Neville's palm, the toad slowly spun around and—snap!—whipped his tongue out at Neville.
"AH!" "WHOA!"
The first cry was Neville's; the frog's tongue didn't hurt much, but it was terrifying. The second cry was Kane's, but his was born of pure excitement. He saw it: the moment the tongue hit Neville, a small item "dropped" from Neville's person.
"It works! That's enough." Kane retracted the shadows instantly.
Trevor returned to normal, but Neville was vibrating with anxiety. "I... did I do something wrong? I'm sorry!"
Hermione was equally stunned. "What was that? Kane, did you do that?"
"Just a... theory. Anyway, thanks, Neville. Your toad just answered a very important question for me." Just as Kane finished, Professor McGonagall called his name.
"That's me. Don't worry, Neville, your toad is perfectly fine. Oh, and pick up what you dropped." Before leaving, Kane pointed to a small brass brooch on the floor—the item Trevor had just "looted" from Neville.
"See you in Gryffindor, mate!"
Harry and Ron both slapped Kane on the shoulder as he walked past. Kane didn't mind where he ended up; his main goal was to stay with his friends. Would the cultural differences of a house affect his path to power?
Hardly. If others were cars looking for the right road, he was a steamroller making his own.
Kane sat on the stool. The moment the Sorting Hat touched his head, it let out a gasp. "Hmm... a kind-hearted little wizard, not much ambition, mastery of knowledge is... passable. Would you like Hufflepuff?"
"Not really. I want to be with my friends. Put me in Gryffindor," Kane replied in his mind.
"Gryffindor, eh? A wizard who is terrified of toads and the dark... Well, you might fear frogs, but you clearly aren't afraid of beating a Pure-blood heir half to death. Very well..."
"GRYFFINDOR!"
As the hat shouted the answer, a wave of relief washed over the group. Harry and Ron cheered, Dumbledore raised his glass with a smile, and even Snape looked relieved that this "shadow-user" wasn't his problem to deal with in Slytherin.
The hall was filled with joy—except for Professor McGonagall. Gryffindor already had enough troublemakers; they didn't need one who performed "Dark Arts" on the first day. She felt the House Cup slipping away before the feast had even begun.
Kane sat down at the Gryffindor table. The three elder Weasley brothers approached.
"Congratulations, Kane! Welcome to Gryffindor, the house of the brave," said Percy, looking very stiff and official.
"Thanks. Although the hat originally wanted to send me to Hufflepuff," Kane shrugged.
"Brave yet kind—excellent qualities. You'll make many friends here," Percy said with a practiced, high-ranking-official smile. He reminded Kane a bit of Maxwell—both possessed that same look of quiet arrogance.
On the other side, the Weasley twins had finally convinced someone to lift the Silencing Charm Percy had put on them. One shoved Percy aside while the other threw an arm around Kane's shoulder, immediately teaching him the "Gryffindor Philosophy."
In short: Prefects don't matter. They're just tools the professors use to oppress us. Ignore them.
"So, who is the Prefect then?" Kane asked.
George pointed his thumb at Percy, who was currently wrestling with Fred. "He is."
Suddenly, a massive cheer erupted: "We got Potter!"
Harry sat down looking like a happy eleven-year-old idiot. A minute later, Ron joined them. The sorting continued until even Hermione and a very nervous Neville were added to the Gryffindor ranks.
Dumbledore stood up. He went through the usual warnings: don't go to the third-floor corridor unless you want to die, stay out of the Forbidden Forest unless you want to die. Finally, he gave his famous opening speech:
"Nitwit! Oddment! Blubber! Tweak! Thank you. Let us eat!"
In an instant, the tables groaned under the weight of delicious food. Harry and Ron began shoveling mashed potatoes and roast beef into their mouths.
Kane ate as well, but his mind was on two things. First: how could he imbue his magic with the "Frog Tongue" property? In a duel, every time he hit an enemy, they'd drop an item. It would be beautiful.
Second: what did those four words mean?
"Are you curious about those words too?" Hermione asked from across the table. She had spent a long time working up the courage to talk to him.
She'd initially thought he was some "Wizarding Elite" who would look down on a Muggle-born, but after the Entrance Hall incident, she realized he was actually quite... decent.
Kane nodded. "I'm not just curious. I'm going to go ask Dumbledore directly."
Once the feast ended and the Prefects began leading the students to their dorms, Kane broke away from the line. He walked straight toward the stone gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office on the eighth floor.
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