Grave Robbing Is Illegal

Hermione's little face was drawn tight. She was now full of complaints about Professor Quirrell, because she had also read the book on Swamp Magic that Kane had looked through in the library before.

The entire book was about theory, without the slightest possibility of practical application. What Professor Quirrell had just taught was merely breaking down the principles of Swamp Magic piece by piece. The knowledge had indeed slid into her brain, like one plus one, but without the final equals sign, she simply could not arrive at two.

If she had not read that book before, Professor Quirrell might really have fooled her. But since Kane had also been called up now, that worked out perfectly. Once he failed to cast the spell and went back to tell Dumbledore or the oversized Celestial Dragon behind him, Professor Quirrell's disgusting habit of teaching only half a lesson would naturally be punished.

Although thinking that way was a little dark, she truly had no other choice. Sob, sob...

Meanwhile, Kane put on a pained expression. He did not care at all about going up to demonstrate magic. What he truly cared about was the unbelievably abstract smell coming from Professor Quirrell.

But honestly, if Professor Quirrell could maintain this standard of teaching every class, Kane was willing to put up with it a little.

Kane stood on the podium, instinctively keeping a somewhat greater distance from Professor Quirrell. As his wand emitted a grayish-white glow, a strange swamp instantly appeared on the podium, dark gray and covered in bizarre patterns as bubbles rose from it.

Quirrell was somewhat surprised by this scene. In order to complete his master's task, demonstrate his authoritative magical skill, and lure Kane into seeking private tutoring after class, he had deliberately held something back so Kane would not learn the spell. Was this script really right?

Master, should I just make Kane stay after class? Quirrell secretly asked Voldemort in his mind. Find another opportunity. If you take the initiative to keep Kane behind, it may draw Dumbledore's attention too early.

Thus, Professor Quirrell was miserable inside, yet he still put on a happy expression and led the whole classroom in applauding Kane. He even gave him another five points.

Hermione's applause was dazed and half a beat slow.

Hermione: ???

Hermione fell silent. Hermione pondered. Hermione understood. Hermione accepted it.

She seemed to understand a truth that was difficult to accept for the moment. For instance, why Professor Quirrell only taught half a lesson. Perhaps it was not because he was incompetent or lacked professional ethics, but because he had been instructed to do so.

Artificially creating a gap between ordinary young wizards and Celestial Dragon young wizards... Hiss—this class game could be played like that?

Kane returned from the podium and scratched his head in confusion. Why did he feel like Hermione had pinkeye? Could she have shed little pearls? That should not be it. Maybe it really was pinkeye.

Soon, as the bell signaling the end of class rang, Kane asked Harry and Ron to get him a meal when it was time to eat. He then headed straight for the eighth floor, intending to ask Dumbledore for Mandrake.

After knocking and pushing open the door to Dumbledore's Office, Kane saw him awkwardly putting a crystal ball beneath his desk. Then Dumbledore looked at Kane. "Is there a problem?"

"There's no problem. It's just the Mandrake. Didn't you ask me to convert fifteen for you every month? I want one more," Kane said.

"Of course, that is no problem. But on the condition that you do not use that Panpipes of yours, the one capable of hypnotizing creatures, to do anything bad." As Dumbledore spoke, he led Kane to the balcony of his office, where fifteen pots of Mandrake sat.

"Just take one later. Actually, sometimes insomnia is not necessarily a bad thing. It allows me to think through many things," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"Then thank you." Kane began converting the Mandrake with shadow. Soon, all fifteen were complete. Without any ceremony, he directly pulled one out. It kicked its legs twice in midair before dying.

After stuffing the Mandrake into his pocket, Kane was still considering an opening line when Dumbledore beat him to it. "What do you think of Professor Quirrell?"

"He smells rather strong, his teaching sticks in your teeth, and I don't know why his first lesson was so sloppy while this one suddenly improved by leaps and bounds. And it seems like he was still holding back. It feels a little unfair to the salary Hogwarts pays him."

Kane poured out everything he had been thinking in one breath.

"Ah, it is very simple. When he taught Swamp Magic, he only explained a great deal of vague theory and did not teach you the true essence. Perhaps he wants young wizards to approach him with questions." Dumbledore spoke with a sighing expression.

"Could you riddle-speakers stop being headmasters? Wouldn't it be better to just say what you mean?" Kane was speechless at Dumbledore's way of speaking. It was because the world had people like these riddle-speakers that it advanced so slowly and in such a twisted spiral.

"Alright, alright. Personally, I currently distrust Professor Quirrell greatly. I believe he is not a good person, so I feel it is necessary to keep him under appropriate surveillance." As Dumbledore spoke, he took out a fiery-red feather from his desk.

"Find a way to leave this feather in his office. I think Professor Quirrell would be quite willing to accept a gift from a highly talented young wizard." Dumbledore handed the feather to Kane.

Kane took the feather. "Does it have your surveillance magic on it? If I use shadow to alter its shape, will the magic still remain?"

"Why don't you try it?" Dumbledore prompted.

Kane nodded. As shadow eroded it, the feather gradually turned into the shape of the Eternal Continent.

Dumbledore nodded. "The magic is still there."

"Then there's no problem." Kane stuffed the feather back into his pocket. "I also need another red feather like that one, three black feathers, and a real swamp."

As Dumbledore handed Kane the feathers, he thought for a moment. Soon, he thought of a place. "There really is a swamp in the Forbidden Forest." He held out his hand toward Kane. "Prepare yourself in advance. Apparition, you know."

The moment Kane placed his hand on his, the two of them had already arrived deep within the Forbidden Forest. One more step forward and Kane would be in the swamp. He stomped his foot, and as shadow spread forward, the swamp soon became a strange grayish-white sight, bubbling all over.

He took a step forward and stood on the swamp. Almost instantly, a terrifying tentacle stretched out from the swamp. Just as it was about to strike him, another shadow tentacle swiftly wrapped around it. The two tentacles twisted together like ropes, deadlocked there.

"Oh, so this is how it works? The swamp you summon yourself should be able to do this too, right? Hmm, summoning an area that indiscriminately attacks enemies..." Dumbledore looked at the swamp before him in amazement. What remarkable magic.

"Yes." Kane withdrew the shadow, returning the swamp to normal. In his hands, he held two pieces of tentacle skin. Together with the five feathers from before, he crafted an Indian-style Feathered Hat with a full 180-degree wraparound by hand.

To be honest, aside from restoring a pitiful amount of SAN and attracting more birds to shit on the wearer's head, it was useless.

"Perhaps Professor Quirrell has spent so long pretending to be Indian that he wants to try some Native American style?" Kane said as he stuffed the Feathered Hat into his pocket, intending to give it to Professor Quirrell later.

"Now that I've helped you, if I ask you to help me, wouldn't you be too embarrassed to refuse?" Kane looked at Dumbledore.

"Of course."

"Do you have amethysts? Rubies and sapphires would work too," Kane said.

"What an appetite. But that truly is beyond my ability. I could even give you the key to my vault and let you look for yourself." As Dumbledore spoke, he actually took out a key and prepared to hand it to Kane.

"Forget it. You probably really don't have any." Kane sighed. After being silent for a while, he spoke again. "Then do you know where there are graves? The nearest ones?"

Dumbledore froze for a moment. "Kane, grave robbing is illegal."

"I know, but as far as I know, robbery is illegal too, so... do you know where there are graves?" Kane repeated the question.

"...Wizard graves or Muggle graves?" In the end, Dumbledore decided to cross his bottom line a little.

"Either is fine, but there need to be a lot of them. My luck is not very good. If there are too few graves, I might not be able to dig up any gems." Hearing there was hope, Kane hurriedly added another condition.

"Little Hangleton Churchyard. It has been abandoned for a long time, and there are many graves. You can go take a look during Christmas break." Dumbledore paused here. He still wanted to ask what digging graves had to do with gems, but after thinking about it, he decided not to ask.

After all, Kane's shadow could make a lifeless swamp suddenly sprout a whole pile of tentacles. What was impossible about making a grave gain an extra gemstone?

That was very magical.

Kane memorized the address, planning to make a shovel and go take a look during Christmas break.

Soon, in the blink of an eye, the two had returned to the castle. Kane stood outside Professor Quirrell's office holding the Feathered Hat. "He should like this gift... and I can ask him about magic while I'm at it."