What the Prestihatitator had made for Kane wasn't an actual Dark Sword or Night Armor, but rather... blueprints for the two pieces of equipment?
"Could you have a little common sense? Don't tell anyone you came from the Constant after this. You tried to make a Dark Sword and Night Armor with a Prestihatitator?" Maxwell appeared behind Kane and mocked him without mercy.
"???"
The forgetful patient clutching the two blueprints fell silent for a moment, then wanted nothing more than to stuff himself into the giant hat in front of him and make himself disappear.
"So the Prestihatitator can't make the Dark Sword or Night Armor, but this stupid thing couldn't give me any kind of warning? It just spat out two blueprints instead?"
Kane was so frustrated by his own stupidity that he instinctively raised a foot to kick the Prestihatitator, only to stop because he couldn't quite bring himself to do it.
He lowered his foot and looked helplessly at Maxwell.
"You could've warned me."
"They were cheap materials anyway. I figured I'd let you enjoy yourself for a few days." Maxwell shrugged. "Besides, would warning you have helped? Can you even find a Purple Gem around here to make a Shadow Manipulator?"
Maxwell's barrage finally succeeded in driving Kane beneath his blankets.
A long while later, Kane crawled back out and began studying the two blueprints in his hands.
He didn't have a Shadow Manipulator, but he did have the blueprints.
Maybe there was some clever workaround. Perhaps he could follow the blueprint and make a Dark Sword by hand?
After studying the two sheets for quite a while, however, Kane finally realized they were basically recipes.
All theory, no practical use by themselves.
He had the recipe.
He had the ingredients.
He just didn't have the pot.
"Hmm..."
Kane stared silently at the two blueprints before finally tossing them into a nearby drawer, out of sight and out of mind.
Once he eventually made a Shadow Manipulator, at least these would save him some materials...
Harry and Ron, still flying around the dormitory overhead, watched Kane's entire sequence of baffling behavior while clicking their tongues and shaking their heads.
Poor Kane.
His mental illness was really putting him through hell.
Time passed until the afternoon.
Harry went off to practice with the Quidditch team, while Kane headed to the library as naturally as if it were his second home.
He wanted to do some research and figure out how to get a Purple Gem as quickly as possible, or at least where he could buy one the size of a fist.
Not long after he found a quiet corner and settled down with a book, another young witch sat beside him.
Kane glanced up.
"Hm? Aren't you sitting with your roommates?"
He looked at Hermione, then toward the several young witches who usually walked around with her, and asked without thinking.
"They thought I was the one who sold you out, and now they're too embarrassed to apologize, so we've been giving each other the cold shoulder for a week." Hermione kept her eyes firmly fixed on the book in front of her and spoke quietly enough that only Kane could hear. "Haven't you noticed that lately I've been sitting with you or Neville in class? If they saw me sitting alone, who knows what rumors would start next. Besides, sitting by yourself like that is really awkward."
"Then I'd suggest finding some new friends, or trying to repair that not-very-sturdy friendship of yours. Halloween's coming up soon, isn't it? Spending a holiday alone would be pretty lonely."
After saying that, Kane put down *How to Get a Beautiful Older Student to Buy You Anything You Need Without Selling Your Looks* and picked up another book, this one about the Swamp Spell.
Defence Against the Dark Arts was coming up later. If he couldn't finish the book before class, he could just bring it with him.
Professor Quirrell's lectures were like chewing bubble gum.
Sticky and exhausting.
Come to think of it, Kane had also meant to ask Dumbledore what exactly was going on with Professor Quirrell after their last trip into the Forbidden Forest, but so much had happened that he'd forgotten.
He really should go today.
He could ask about Quirrell while he was there getting Mandrakes.
Maxwell might have a rather terrible way of looking at situations, but he was usually pretty good at judging people...
Probably?
Whatever.
Better to keep studying the Swamp Spell.
Combined with Kane's special abilities, the spell could create an entire swamp filled with spiked tentacles. Any enemy stupid enough to step inside would immediately get whipped half to death.
And no safe word was going to save them.
Unlike Kane's constantly wandering train of thought, Hermione's little mind had been focused on one thing the entire time.
Inside her head was a whiteboard labeled:
**Hermione's Friendship Reinforcement Plan**
And at that moment, she crossed Kane's name off it.
After all, Kane had just suggested that she find a friend as soon as possible, without once mentioning the fact that the two of them were already supposed to be friends...
Ah...
Of course.
She'd thought they were friends, but apparently he'd never even considered it.
It had all been wishful thinking on her part.
What she had seen as sincere friendship was probably nothing more than ordinary politeness to him...
The Hermione inside her heart began shedding pitiful little tears.
On the surface, however, absolutely nothing happened.
She simply picked up the book in front of her and left.
The next time Kane saw Hermione was that afternoon in Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Kane, Harry, and Ron had squeezed themselves into a corner of the classroom, where they could stay slightly farther away from the smell radiating from Professor Quirrell.
Hermione sat alone relatively close to the front because there genuinely weren't any seats left farther back.
"Hiss..."
Ron stared at Hermione's lonely back and felt that something needed to be said.
Finally, he opened his mouth.
"She looks so..."
Kane and Harry immediately clamped their hands over Ron's mouth.
They already knew what kind of garbage was about to come out of it.
Once that little incident was over, Professor Quirrell finally entered the classroom.
He still remembered Voldemort's instructions after they returned from the Forbidden Forest.
During this lesson, he was supposed to show some genuine ability, then find some way to entice Kane into approaching him privately for extra instruction.
Quirrell didn't know why.
But since he'd already reduced himself to being his master's dog, there was hardly any point in asking questions.
He just needed to obey.
As he wondered what useful material he should teach today, his gaze suddenly fell on Kane, who was sitting very, very far away.
On Kane's desk was a book about the Swamp Spell.
Perfect.
Then today, Quirrell would demonstrate the true depths of his knowledge.
It was just unfortunate that the one cute and studious young wizard in the class had chosen to sit so far away from him...
Well.
Understandable.
Kane was still reading when suddenly a voice entered his ears.
It was just as painfully sticky and halting as usual, but strangely enough, the actual content was excellent.
Kane looked up in confusion.
The other young wizards around him had similar expressions, staring at Professor Quirrell as though they'd just seen a ghost.
Listening to that stuttering voice was exhausting.
But he was actually teaching useful stuff!
Professor Quirrell continued without pause for a full forty minutes.
Only when the final twenty minutes of class remained did he stop.
"A-all right, young wizards. N-now, who... who would like to come up and d-demonstrate the Swamp Spell for everyone?"
Professor Quirrell waved his wand, sliding the front desk off to one side. Then he stepped down and cleared the raised platform.
Hermione was the first to raise her hand.
The applause she received was also the weakest.
Perhaps weak wasn't quite the right word.
There were only so many students in the classroom, so when two or three people didn't clap, the absence was painfully obvious.
Hermione cast the spell from the front of the classroom.
The surface before her quickly softened, and its color changed slightly.
The young wizards below fell silent.
Even Hermione herself flushed red with embarrassment.
In the end, Professor Quirrell's kinder personality seemed to take control, and he began applauding first.
"L-let's give Miss Granger a round of applause. The Swamp Spell is generally something only... only fourth-year students can successfully cast. For Miss Granger to achieve this much already is v-very impressive."
Then, with remarkable generosity, he awarded Gryffindor...
One point.
After that, he began searching for his next target.
"Mr. Kane Heath, p-please come up and demonstrate the spell for us!"