Revenge, Revenge, Revenge

That evening, Kane held the finished broomstick in his hands. After thinking it over, he picked up a carving knife as well. This was Harry's broomstick, so it was best for Harry to carve its name himself.

This was absolutely necessary.

Before long, Kane arrived at the temporary potion-brewing workshop converted from the abandoned bathroom Hermione had found.

After he knocked exactly four times, Ron quickly opened the door on tiptoe and let Kane inside.

"I heard all about it from Harry. You lot certainly had an eventful Christmas," Ron said enviously.

"We just got a glimpse of the dark side of the Wizarding World and witnessed a whole lot of pitiful people. It didn't exactly feel great." Kane sighed helplessly and waved at Harry, who was sitting on a toilet in the distance. "Your broomstick is finished."

Harry, who had been sitting on the toilet looking listless and even a little depressed, suddenly jerked his head up.

He now had to immediately appear before Kane and declare his loyalty.

But before he could say anything, Kane handed him a carving knife.

"I think it's absolutely necessary for you to carve a name onto your own broomstick."

"Of course. Thank you so much, Kane." Harry took the knife and rubbed the broom handle, then thought for a moment before beginning to carve.

"Fire Ring?" Ron leaned over. "That's a strange name. I thought you'd come up with something cooler."

"Maybe because that walrus lady at the circus was in charge of jumping through fire rings. I couldn't change her tragic fate, so I could only commemorate her." As Harry spoke, he took the wood wax oil from Kane and waxed the words he had just carved.

Then he impatiently headed outside, intending to go to the Quidditch pitch and properly