"Oh... I should contact Newt. He might have a clue..."
Dumbledore muttered, reaching for a Portkey to go straight to Newt's house, then paused, remembering he was the Headmaster and didn't need such measures.
With that, he vanished from the spot.
Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall was already racing toward the Forbidden Forest.
More than the appearance of a new magical species, she worried about Kane and Hagrid.
Soon, Dumbledore appeared in his office alongside another white-haired old man. They peered into the crystal ball and saw this:
A tree, four meters tall and as thick as a barrel, had uprooted itself.
It moved with an unnerving, almost human-like gait, swinging its trunk violently as it attacked Hagrid.
Behind the Treeguard, a young wizard swung an axe with all his strength, trying to bring it down.
They watched for a moment before the Master of Magical Creatures, Newt Scamander, spoke, giving Dumbledore the answer he had expected.
"I don't recognize it," Scamander said.
"Though the Forbidden Forest is vast, it's not unusual for a few magical creatures or plants to go unnoticed.
But more importantly, shouldn't we be focusing on keeping those two children safe?"
Dumbledore spoke quietly.
"Well, considering this creature was grown by them, or rather, by that young wizard, I'd tentatively assume they're capable of handling it."
Scamander's heart nearly jumped out of his chest. "Say what?" he blurted.
"This thing… was grown? Could it be some kind of mutant Whomping Willow?" His mind raced, but something still felt off.
"I think I'd better hear it from the child myself," Scamander decided.
He drew a broomstick from his pocket and shot straight out the window.
"Still has that youthful enthusiasm," Dumbledore said with a small smile as he watched him go.
Then he too left the office, strolling calmly toward the castle exit.
The Forbidden Forest, however, was far from peaceful.
Kane's axe damage to the Treeguard far exceeded the damage Hagrid was dealing, so unfortunately, the Treeguard had now shifted its attack target to Kane.
Though it wasn't that unfortunate.
After all, in Hagrid's eyes, Kane fighting this giant Treeguard was as simple as bullying a little kid.
He'd walk under the Treeguard's feet and chop four times in rapid succession, bang bang bang bang, then run a certain distance away and wait for the Treeguard's attack to fall before coming back to chop some more.
But just like how mothers always think you're hungry, Professor McGonagall always thought you were in danger.
At that moment, she landed very impressively on a broomstick and shouted loudly, "Mr. Heath, run farther away! I'll take down this big fellow!"
Hearing this, Kane was instantly more startled than in the second before any of the Treeguard's attacks landed.
He quickly jogged over to Professor McGonagall and reached out to stop her.
"No, no, no! I have to personally kill this Treeguard for it to work!"
"But this is dangerous!"
Professor McGonagall put her hands on her hips, somewhat angry at Kane's stubbornness.
She hadn't even settled the score with him yet for running away from home and wasting a trip.
"But this big dummy really isn't that scary.
Look, we've been talking all this time, and it's only taken three steps," Kane explained.
"Ugh..." Professor McGonagall sighed and waved her wand.
The solid ground suddenly grew several stone pillars that restrained the Treeguard from head to toe, making it unable to move at all.
"Now hurry up and go," Professor McGonagall said irritably. Watching Kane charge over with his axe, she looked at Hagrid.
"Hagrid, go help him."
Hagrid spread his hands somewhat helplessly.
"He won't let me. Kane says only if that monster is killed by his own hands will the thing he needs appear."
Professor McGonagall felt rather helpless. Soon Scamander arrived too.
Watching Kane chop into the Treeguard with one axe blow after another, Scamander felt like each blow was landing on him.
He instinctively wanted to rescue the Treeguard from its peril, but was ultimately stopped by Professor McGonagall.
"Mr. Heath says this is to... obtain some kind of strange thing."
Scamander sighed helplessly.
This Treeguard had been grown by the boy himself. He really had no standing to tell someone to spare the tree.
He could only numb himself with the thought that plants have no pain receptors.
Soon, with the last axe blow, the entire Treeguard crashed to the ground, transforming into several tree stumps and a wooden stick about as thick as a fist and thirty-five centimeters long, with a face on it that was wailing and writhing.
Dumbledore, who had arrived at some point, slowly walked over. Without reaching out to take it, he crouched nearby, looking at this continuously wailing stick, then looked at Kane.
"This is what you need? It does indeed look like excellent material for making a wand," Dumbledore remarked.
"It looks like it's in great pain," Scamander finally couldn't hold back and came over to say.
"Uh... It's faking," Kane said, poking it with his finger. "Keep howling and I'll burn you."
Soon, the stick quieted down. Kane picked it up, and it whimpered softly.
"Who are these two?" After the dust settled, Kane looked at Professor McGonagall and Scamander.
"Minerva McGonagall.
You can call me Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, and the poor soul who went to Number Four, Privet Drive today to investigate your running away from home.
You made me waste a trip, child," Professor McGonagall said quietly.
"I'm very sorry, Professor." Facing the Deputy Headmistress, Kane still maintained a proper smile and courtesy.
Professor McGonagall looked somewhat helplessly at the young wizard before her.
As the saying goes, you can see the adult in a seven-year-old child.
From what Kane dared to do before school started, she could see what outrageous things this child would dare to do after enrollment.
Perhaps a very talented Gryffindor? Though thinking about that wisp of dark magic left on Harry's clothes... Ravenclaw and Slytherin were also possible.
"I don't blame you. The Dursley home... truly isn't somewhere a normal person could stay.
But you need to explain to Harry that you're alright now. He's very worried about you," Professor McGonagall continued.
"Mm, I'll go back to see him during the holidays," Kane still felt he couldn't go back too soon to see Harry.
After all, his dark circles right now were a bit frightening.
If Harry saw them, he'd think Kane wasn't eating or sleeping well. Then wouldn't he look like a clown who valued face over comfort in Harry's eyes?
Better to first get himself nice and healthy at Hogwarts, then go back to see him.
Plus, by then, he could learn some less creepy magic and improve Harry's situation at the Dursleys.
Everyone present looked at Kane with odd expressions, though that was normal.
In a month's time, a young wizard really might not have many proper magical outbursts.
It was normal that Kane couldn't tell Harry was a wizard. They didn't expose this.
When Kane and Harry met at the Sorting Ceremony or on the Hogwarts Express, the feeling was like seeing an old friend in a foreign place, colliding with the excitement of success and passing exams. What a wonderful thing that would be.
When Scamander's turn came, Hagrid spoke up before he could introduce his idol. "This is Newt Scamander, a very accomplished magizoologist."
Scamander smiled and crouched down in front of Kane. "Lad, this Treeguard... did you grow it?"
Kane glanced at Scamander, never considering that someone might try to capture him for this unusual ability and turn him into some heartless seed-producing machine.
Instead, he answered simply and honestly, "I used my magic to modify an acorn. After I planted the successfully altered seed and it grew, it became a Treeguard."
"So could these seeds be…?"
"I don't really approve of that, and doing it wouldn't be good for this world. As for why I did this… I guess I was being a little selfish," Kane said, sounding a bit embarrassed.
"No," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "That is not selfishness. It is surprisingly responsible of you."
"Hm?" Kane looked at Dumbledore, unsure what this quietly wise old man was about to say next.