What? I Was Starting to Lose SAN?

Only five people were eating in the Great Hall at noon, so they all sat at the same table.

Kane knew Dumbledore and Hagrid.

There were two others. One was Professor Severus Snape, who had previously existed only in Dumbledore's words—a professor with greasy hair and a sour face. The other was Filch, the castle caretaker, probably something like... a dean of discipline? He looked... a bit like a vulture.

Professor McGonagall, the deputy headmistress, should have been there as well. But after discovering that one of the young wizards who had already been sent an acceptance letter had run away from home, leaving the letter undelivered, she had apparently already left Hogwarts to search the world for that disobedient child.

After hearing Dumbledore's explanation, Kane felt a pang of concern for that runaway young wizard. How badly had he been wronged to choose to run away from home? Tears of sympathy flowed from the corner of his mouth.

Dumbledore smiled at the sight. "Everyone, eat."

As the soft sounds of eating filled the room, Snape suddenly looked up at Dumbledore beside him and asked quietly, "Who is that?"

"An unfortunate young wizard, Kane Hiss." Dumbledore then looked at Kane. "This is Hogwarts' Potions professor, Severus Snape."

Naturally, Kane wanted to make a good impression on his future professor. After wiping his hands with a napkin, he reached right past Dumbledore and offered one.

Snape fell silent for a moment before reservedly shaking Kane's hand. Almost instantly, he understood what was unusual about Kane.

Inside the child's body lurked an extraordinarily strange and absurd aura of dark magic. It was as illogical as a madman's crude sketch, giving him the feeling that it might burst out of the child at any moment and pounce on him.

This child had better not be a Slytherin. And once term starts, I'll have to keep those irritating Slytherin students under control. If something like this, dark magic given form, fixes its eyes on them, they can forget about attending Hogwarts. They'll go down one by one without a sound.

Their handshake ended quickly, and Dumbledore spoke at just the right moment. "Normally, most young wizards would have received their Hogwarts letters by now and started buying their school supplies in Diagon Alley. Hagrid, would you mind taking the child to Diagon Alley this afternoon?"

Hagrid thumped his chest so hard it boomed. "Course there's no problem!"

At that moment, Dumbledore suddenly remembered something important—certain precious rituals that only happened once in a person's life.

With that thought, he quickly left the table. A few minutes later, an owl flew into the Great Hall through the ceiling, clutching an ornate envelope in its talons, and dropped it in front of Kane.

"This is a ritual every young wizard must experience in life. Tear it open."

Kane looked at the slightly faded ink stains on Dumbledore's fingers. It was obvious that he had just written this letter, but out of respect for the elderly, Kane cooperatively opened the envelope.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards, First Class Order of Merlin, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot)

Dear Mr. Kane Hiss:

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...

"Mm, I'm going to frame this letter." After reading it from beginning to end, Kane folded the letter and carefully slipped it into his shirt pocket without bending it.

"Oh, right. The wand mentioned in the letter?"

Dumbledore took out his Elder Wand. "This. Through the wood and the magical core within, it helps a wizard organize their magic, allowing simple magic to produce miracles under the wand's guidance and the wizard's will."

"I mean, can wands be customized?" Kane asked.

"...Ollivander has hundreds, if not thousands, of combinations in stock. With careful selection, there is not much difference from customization. Or are you hoping to use some special materials?" Dumbledore asked with a smile.

Hey, can you send me some Living Wood, or something like Nightmare Fuel? Kane suddenly asked in his mind. He knew Maxwell could definitely hear him.

"Of course not. But perhaps you can infect ordinary trees with your own shadow. As for Nightmare Fuel? By my estimate, your SAN will be completely drained in another two days. Then you can kill the Shadow Monsters that come for you yourself. Won't that get you Nightmare Fuel?" Maxwell suddenly appeared across the long table, bracing both hands against it as he smiled.

Kane, who had been calmly drinking pumpkin juice, suddenly began coughing violently. Hagrid kindly reached over and patted his back. Unfortunately, the giant's strength nearly sent Kane flying, though at least he stopped coughing.

"Eat slowly. This is Hogwarts. Food is the one thing we never lack here. You'll never have to worry about going hungry again," Dumbledore reminded him kindly.

"I know." Kane recovered somewhat, then looked back at Maxwell. "What in the real world could make me lose SAN?"

"Why, you yourself, of course." Maxwell shrugged and vanished.

"Are you all right?" Dumbledore looked at Kane.

Kane shook his head. "I'm fine. Can I go to Diagon Alley tomorrow instead? I have something to do this afternoon."

"Of course. Tomorrow morning, then. As for now, if you need help with anything, find Hagrid or come to me." Dumbledore smiled as he accepted that arduous task on Hagrid's behalf.

Kane said nothing more, scooped some more ice cream into his mouth, then slipped out of Hogwarts Castle.

Dumbledore looked at Hagrid, who was still eating heartily, and could not help coughing.

"Dumbledore, have you caught a cold?" Hagrid asked.

"Hagrid, I meant for you to follow Kane," Dumbledore said bluntly.

"Oh, right. The Forbidden Forest is so big. It wouldn't do if he ran into any danger." Hagrid came to his senses and rushed out in a hurry.

"I think what you truly fear is not that he will encounter danger, but that he will create some bizarre danger," Snape said. He understood Dumbledore the way a gun understood a bullet, and he stated the correct answer directly.

"After all, I have a very bad feeling about this." Dumbledore felt his heart pounding.

Snape had little interest in Dumbledore's ominous premonitions, but someone else at the table had something to say.

Filch asked hoarsely, "Dumbledore, weren't acceptance letters for young wizards supposed to have been sent out long ago? But that brat's letter seemed to have been written by you just now. Does that mean he was never accepted by the Book of Admittance?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Of course not. I checked the records earlier. Kane's acceptance letter did leave Hogwarts two days ago. But it seems that when it was delivered, Kane was in the middle of running away from home—and had actually put it into action—so..."

For a moment, the three people in the Great Hall all fell silent.

"Oh, when Minerva returns, she is absolutely going to storm into my office and slam her hand on my desk." Dumbledore sighed.

Meanwhile, at Number Four, Privet Drive, Professor McGonagall looked at the house before her. Compared to a young wizard who had vanished without explanation, even Harry Potter, the savior of the entire Wizarding World, did not seem so important.

After all, no matter how badly Harry Potter might be living, he was at least still alive. But that missing young wizard's fate was truly unknown.

Professor McGonagall gave her impeccably neat hairpin one final adjustment, then slowly knocked on the door before her.