Swamp

The Spirit Particle Disintegrator had not made Kane any actual Shadow Blade or Shadow Armor, but... blueprints for the two pieces of equipment?

"Could you use some common sense? Don't tell anyone you came from the Eternal Realm in the future. You tried using a Spirit Particle Disintegrator to make a Shadow Blade and Shadow Armor?" Maxwell appeared behind Kane and said bluntly.

"???"

The forgetful patient holding the two blueprints fell silent for a moment, then wished he could stuff himself into the large hat in front of him and disappear.

"So the Spirit Particle Disintegrator can't make things like the Shadow Blade and Shadow Armor? This piece of junk didn't give me even the slightest hint? It just made me two blueprints?"

After being utterly defeated by his own stupidity, Kane instinctively wanted to kick the Spirit Particle Disintegrator hard. Then he found himself reluctant to do so. Lowering his foot, he looked at Maxwell helplessly. "You could've reminded me."

"Those materials were worthless anyway. I thought I'd let you be happy for a few days. Besides, would reminding you have done any good? Or could you find a Purple Gem here? Make a Shadow Manipulator?"

Maxwell's barrage of words successfully drove Kane beneath his blankets. After a long while, he crawled back out and began examining the two blueprints in his hands.

He did not have a Shadow Manipulator, but didn't he have blueprints? Maybe there was some clever way around it. For example, perhaps he could make a Shadow Blade by hand according to the blueprint?

But after studying the two blueprints for a long time, he ultimately realized they were like recipes. Aside from theory, they were useless. He had the recipe and the ingredients, but no pot.

"Hmm..." Kane stared silently at the blueprints before finally tossing them into a drawer beside him, out of sight and out of mind. Once he made a Shadow Manipulator, he could save some materials...

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron, who were still flying around the dormitory, watched Kane's series of baffling actions, smacking their lips and shaking their heads.

Poor Kane was being tortured half to death by his mental illness.

Time passed until the afternoon. Harry went off to Quidditch practice with the team, while Kane made his way to the library like an old hand.

He planned to look through some books and figure out how to obtain a Purple Gem as quickly as possible, or where he could buy one the size of a fist.

Not long after he found a corner and settled down to read quietly, another young wizard sat beside him. Kane glanced up at her.

"Hm? Aren't you sitting with your roommates?" Kane looked at Hermione, then at the few young witches who had always walked around with her, and asked instinctively.

"They misunderstood and thought I was the one who betrayed you. They're too embarrassed to apologize, so we've been giving each other the cold shoulder for a week. Haven't you noticed that I've been sitting with you or Neville in class lately? If they see me sitting alone, who knows what rumors they'll spread. And besides, sitting alone like that is really awkward."

Hermione stared fixedly at the book in front of her as she spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear.

"Then I suggest you either find some new friends or try to repair that not-so-solid friendship. Halloween should be coming up soon, right? Spending the holiday alone would be pretty lonely."

After saying that, Kane put down How to Get a Beautiful Senior to Buy Anything You Need Without Selling Your Looks and picked up another magic book about Swamp Magic. Defense Against the Dark Arts was next. If he could not finish it, he could take it to class and keep reading. Professor Quirrell's lectures were like chewing gum—sticking to your teeth.

Also, he had meant to ask Dumbledore what exactly was going on with Professor Quirrell last time, but there had been too much going on and he had forgotten. He really had to go this time. He could ask while requesting Mandrake.

Although Maxwell could be a bit of a bastard when it came to dealing with things, he was pretty accurate when judging people... right?

Forget it. He should keep studying Swamp Magic. Combined with his own traits, this spell could create a swamp filled with spiked tentacles. Any enemy who dared step inside would get whipped first. Even screaming a safeword would not help.

Unlike Kane's constantly jumping thoughts, Hermione's little mind contained a whiteboard labeled Hermione's Friendship Consolidation Plan. At that moment, she crossed out Kane's name.

After all, Kane had just told her to find friends as soon as possible, without mentioning that she and he had already become friends long ago...

Hah... just as I thought. I thought we were friends, but he never even considered it. It was all just wishful thinking on my part. The sincere friendship I saw was nothing more than empty politeness to him...

Inside, Hermione pitifully shed little pearly tears, but on the outside, she looked as though nothing had happened. She picked up the book in front of her and left.

The next time Kane saw Hermione was in that afternoon's Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The three of them huddled in a small corner of the classroom, staying as far away as possible from the smell Professor Quirrell gave off.

Hermione sat alone in a relatively forward seat, because there were truly no empty seats left in the back.

"Jeez..." Ron looked at Hermione's lonely back and felt that he needed to say something.

At last, he spoke. "She looks kind of—"

Kane and Harry hurriedly covered Ron's mouth. They already knew what sort of nonsense Ron was about to spout.

After that little interlude ended, Professor Quirrell finally entered the classroom. He remembered Voldemort's instructions after returning from the Forbidden Forest last time: show some real skill in this lesson, then find a way to entice Kane into seeking him out alone for advice.

Though he did not know why, he was already his master's dog. What was there to ask? He just had to do as he was told.

Just as he was considering what useful material to teach, he suddenly spotted Kane sitting incredibly far away, with a book about Swamp Magic on his desk. Very well. He would display his true depth of knowledge.

It was just a pity that the only adorable and studious young wizard was sitting so far away from him... Well, understandable.

Kane had been reading when a voice that was still sticky to the teeth, yet surprisingly full of substance, suddenly entered his head.

He looked up in confusion and found that the other young wizards wore similar expressions, staring at Professor Quirrell as though they had seen a ghost.

His stumbling speech was exhausting to listen to, but he was actually teaching useful material!

Professor Quirrell continued speaking without pause for a full forty minutes, only stopping for the final twenty.

"Al-all right, young wizards. Now, wh-who can come up and sh-show everyone Swamp Magic?" Professor Quirrell waved his wand, causing the lectern to slide aside. He walked down and yielded the raised platform.

Hermione was the first to raise her hand, and the applause accompanying her was also the most sparse.

It was not exactly that sparse. There were only a few people in the classroom, so the absence of two or three claps was very obvious.

As Hermione cast the spell on the platform, the lectern in front of her quickly became soft, and its color changed somewhat. The young wizards below fell silent, and even Hermione blushed red with embarrassment.

In the end, Professor Quirrell's kind personality took over and began applauding. "Ap-applause for Miss Granger. Most students who can cast Swamp Magic are f-fourth-years. Miss Granger has done v-very well."

After saying that, he generously awarded Gryffindor... one point, then began searching for the next target.

"Mr. Kane Hiss, p-please come up and demonstrate this spell!"