"If I had possessed extraordinary, world-changing power at your age, even if no one knew about it, I would have done everything I could to share it.
To proclaim it. Without ever stopping to consider whether that might be unwise, or whether it could have negative consequences for the world."
"All I would have needed was meaningless praise. But you've already realized, young as you are, that carelessly throwing power around might not do the world any good."
Kane watched as Dumbledore suddenly launched into what seemed like philosophical musings. He glanced over at Hagrid, looking puzzled. "Does he do this often?"
"Well," Hagrid said carefully, "perhaps it's just how Dumbledore thinks things through."
"Fair enough." Kane had figured there probably wasn't going to be a real answer to that question anyway.
Before long, evening arrived. Kane finished his dinner early and sat on a small stone by the edge of the Black Lake, quietly watching the surface of the water. His shadow, stretched absurdly long by the setting sun, sprawled in every direction like grasping claws, dragging any small creatures it could reach into its darkness.
"What's your take on that boy?" In the headmaster's office, Dumbledore turned to Snape, who stood beside him, also observing Kane's shadow.
"Dark magic has soaked his soul so thoroughly that it's affected even his shadow." Snape offered his assessment, then shot Dumbledore a sidelong glance. "So you're still as fond as ever of collecting dangerous individuals. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if a few young witches and wizards end up dead at Hogwarts this year."
"You only get away with verbally bullying me because I'm a slow-talking old man. Though, to be fair, you verbally bully young people just the same." Dumbledore said quietly. "What I'm really asking is whether you have any idea why he's sitting out there doing absolutely nothing."
"Isn't that a good thing? I imagine the moment he gets his wand tomorrow, he'll open up some secret chamber in Hogwarts and start brewing dark magic experiments. So I think we should be grateful he's this quiet right now."
"What I mean is, look at Kane sitting there. Doesn't he look like he's fishing? And he's the bait." Dumbledore finally decided to spell it out directly.
"You mean..." Snape's brow furrowed, but before he could finish his sentence, he saw the shadow of a dead tree near Kane suddenly come to life.
The shadow transformed into something abstract and crude, like a child's stick-figure drawing of a monster, lunging at Kane with grasping limbs.
But in that instant, Kane's absurdly elongated shadow suddenly twisted into a long, indistinct shape.
Like a python, it coiled around the shadow creature and crushed it entirely. All that remained were a few specks of black smoke dissipating into the air.
Oh, and of course the nightmare fuel, which Kane picked up from the ground and stuffed directly into his pocket.
"What was that?" Snape frowned. "That thing he just put in his pocket?"
"Don't be so curious about other people's privacy."
Snape wanted to shoot back with something cutting, but in the end he settled for sarcasm instead.
"Must be nice to be so self-righteous when you've got a crystal ball to spy with."
"Thank you for the compliment."
Soon after, Snape left the office.
On his way back from the Black Lake to Dumbledore's office, Kane killed a few more shadow creatures, picked up several more pieces of nightmare fuel, and, while he was at it, pried up Hagrid's entire campfire from the yard, ground and all.
"What are you..." Dumbledore thought his heart was fairly resilient, but he never expected Kane to pull something like this.
"I'm afraid of the dark, you know." Kane began looking around Dumbledore's bedroom for a good spot, trying to position the campfire so its light would reach the upper bunk.
At that moment, Dumbledore suddenly lost all the frailty that supposedly came with old age. He climbed nimbly onto the upper bunk, moving even faster than Kane.
"Let's hope we don't get carbon monoxide poisoning. Better open the window." With a casual wave of his hand, Dumbledore gently pushed the bedroom window open.
Down on the lower bunk, Kane had already started the fire.
As the crackling flames filled the air, he could finally look forward to a good night's sleep.
A well-behaved young wizard who goes to bed early and rises early won't run into Sister Charlie.
"Kane." Lying on the upper bunk, Dumbledore felt the time was right. What teenage boy could refuse a nighttime chat with his roommate?
Unfortunately for him, Kane could. And did. Perhaps because he was so exhausted from the day, he fell asleep surprisingly quickly.
All the questions Dumbledore had wanted to ask, about those strange shadow creatures, the dark magic fluctuations that lasted all night, and other even more peculiar things like tree spirits, living wood, and Kane's own bizarre shadow... all of it got bottled up inside him.
---
The next day...
Dumbledore woke fairly early. The sky at the horizon was already beginning to lighten.
Merlin be praised, and thanks to the fact that he'd opened the window last night, the two occupants of the bedroom had not been claimed by carbon monoxide.
He climbed down carefully from the upper bunk. The campfire beside the bed still burned with a weak flame, casting Kane's shadow onto the wall.
Though it was still restless, it was much calmer than it had been yesterday evening by the Black Lake.
At the Black Lake, Kane's shadow had truly been a chaotic dance of demons. But for some reason, after a night's sleep, his shadow had settled down somewhat.
If Kane could have heard his questions, he probably would have been happy to answer them.
A comfortable, soft bedroom, and most importantly one with a roof, could restore a poor young wizard's pitiful sanity. Not by much, but it helped.
At worst, when he woke up he could go pick some flowers around Hogwarts and make a flower crown to wear on his head...
As for whether the petals would transform into demonic petals under the influence of shadow, like haunted spirits? Probably not.
Shadow was shadow, and ghosts were ghosts. The two couldn't be conflated.
Before long, some more time passed and Kane gradually woke.
Seeing the campfire beside him still glowing faintly, he breathed a sigh of relief. This night's sleep had been remarkably comfortable.
"Time for breakfast, Kane. Wash up and come out," came Dumbledore's voice from outside.
"Coming."
The breakfast crowd at Hogwarts that morning had grown more complete. All told, there were exactly six humans present.
Kane ate while listening to Hagrid's preview of Diagon Alley: magical ice cream, the goblin-run bank, the magical brick wall, and Knockturn Alley, which was only one wall away from Diagon Alley, and on and on.
But in Kane's eyes, none of it was as appealing as the honey-slathered toast in front of him.
On the other side of the table, Professor McGonagall quietly sipped her porridge.
Thinking about Harry, who had sworn to knock Kane's teeth out, she found herself rather curious about whether Kane's teeth would still be in his mouth by the time he and Hagrid returned that afternoon.
Should she give him a warning?
Of course not.
Soon breakfast ended. Kane sat on a tree stump beside Hagrid's hut, waiting for Hagrid to finish tidying up inside. Before long, he emerged.
"Professor McGonagall told me the Weasley family will be going to Diagon Alley today too.
You'll like them. First-rate people, all of them. And there's a young wizard their age who'll also be starting at Hogwarts this year. You two should hit it off."
"I hope so." Kane nodded and, together with Hagrid, used a Portkey to leave Hogwarts.