"I completely understand how you feel," Tonks nodded in agreement.
The two of them arrived at Snape's office, and Tonks quickly snapped a photo of the basilisk with her magical camera. Just as they were about to leave, she finally gathered her courage.
"Can I have one of the basilisk fangs?"
"...."
"Okay, pretend I didn't say that!" Tonks bolted out of Snape's office at lightning speed.
Kasen and Snape exchanged a glance, both shrugging at the same time.
"Mhm."
Back in his office, Kasen stretched lazily. He glanced at Sirius, who was sniffing his own tail beside the sofa, and let out a sigh.
A trip to the Ministry today had been… mixed.
On the bright side, Hagrid had finally received the justice that had been delayed for most of his life.
Sure, it came a bit too late, but Kasen was still genuinely happy for him.
The downside, though, was what Fudge had mentioned—that so-called Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban.
Of course, if it were just some ordinary criminal, their jailbreak from Azkaban would have nothing to do with him.
As luck would have it, this damned fugitive turned out to be a former follower of Voldemort. If what Hagrid said was true, then this Sirius Black had his brain stuffed full of loyalty to Voldemort and dreams of killing Harry Potter. That meant Kasen's third year at Hogwarts was about to get very interesting.
A Dark wizard—even if his target was Harry—was still a Dark wizard. Who could say what kind of bottom line he had?
Or rather, Dark wizards had no bottom line.
So his approach at Hogwarts would probably just be to blast Avada Kedavra at anyone in his way.
This was shaping up to be even more absurd than last year's basilisk incident.
And along with Sirius came the "bundle deal" of Dementors.
He had always joked with the young wizards about things like "doing postgraduate study at Azkaban" or "chatting about topics that might land you in Azkaban," but next term, it looked like those jokes were about to come true—halfway, at least.
It was like: I do not walk toward Azkaban; Azkaban comes walking toward me.
"Dumbledore really is getting senile…"
Kasen muttered to himself as he pulled out a whole pile of small soul sand blocks and miniature wither skeleton skulls.
He had decided to craft a batch of Wither Amulets, just in case.
After all, according to Hagrid, the Patronus Charm wasn't exactly easy to master. In case some of the less gifted young wizards couldn't learn it or were too slow to pick it up, they'd be left with only one option: the Wither Amulet.
And since his Alchemy classes were only available to third-years and above, he couldn't just leave the younger students to be slurped up like bubble tea by the Dementors.
"Bloody hell… Hogwarts would fall apart without me! Next term, I have to make Dumbledore give me a raise!" Kasen grumbled as he worked, crafting a small wither and embedding it into the amulet frame.
The next day...
"What did you prepare as your gift?" Kasen asked Snape, who was standing beside him.
"A dittany crystal. As long as it's worn, it will slowly heal any non-cursed physical injuries," Snape replied.
"So high-tech! I mean—high magic... You made this yourself?" Kasen asked, a little surprised.
"Mm." Snape gave a short nod.
Soon, Professor Kettleburn was led into the Great Hall by two young wizards with a blindfold over his eyes. If nothing unexpected happened, this would be Professor Kettleburn's last Sunday at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore smiled as he drew his Elder Wand, channeling a simple fireworks charm into its tip.
Before long, the two young wizards removed the blindfold from Professor Kettleburn.
Bang! Two party poppers popped!
"Oh…" Professor Kettleburn smiled as he took in the farewell party. "I figured—it's just like Dumbledore to pull this kind of thing."
"But timeless classics never go out of style. That's the wisdom passed down by our predecessors," Dumbledore said, walking over with a set of magical wooden prosthetics in his hands.
After putting them on, Kettleburn tested them out a bit. "Not bad, Dumbledore. Your alchemy's improved."
Ahem. Next up was Kasen. And his prosthetic was not just some rough wooden limb with a few carved runes and enchantments.
His prosthetic responded to mental intent, allowing for fully controlled movement—flexing arms, gripping objects… it could even scratch your butt unconsciously in your sleep.
Ran faster than an ostrich. Gripped like a rock climber.
In an emergency, it could knock out a raging magical beast with a single punch—basically eliminating any chance of Kettleburn getting hurt again.
Calling a masterpiece like that a "prosthetic" was a disservice. It deserved to be called a cyberlimb.
"By Merlin, this is way better than what Dumbledore gave me!" Kettleburn exclaimed, quickly swapping out his old prosthetics for the new set. He tested the hand—his new limb clenched into a fist smoothly.
The leg prosthetic bent at the knee with incredible precision, and with his foot, he scratched the side of his other calf.
"Honestly, can you even call Dumbledore's work alchemy next to this?" Kettleburn said, teasing Dumbledore with a mischievous grin.
Dumbledore, for his part, was more than happy to indulge in this playful banter... or so everyone thought.
The other professors also presented their gifts to Kettleburn—Snape's dittany crystal, and both Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout had, somehow, both gifted him a glove.
And both of them were for the right hand.
"....Oops?"
"We probably should've coordinated before gifting," McGonagall admitted.
"I just hope your memory isn't this sharp about everything," Kettleburn said with a laugh, holding up the two right-hand gloves. "If you'd given me one left and one right, I'd have been absolutely delighted."
"Well, nothing we can do about that now. Besides, I doubt your other hand's going to need a glove, is it?" Professor Sprout replied, sneaking a glance at Kasen.
"Obsidian shell! With this baby, you could snap a dragon's tooth clean off if you dared!" Kasen declared proudly, standing with his hands on his hips, full of swagger.
"This really is fantastic," Kettleburn sighed with admiration, stroking his tough and stylish prosthetic.
"Mm, it truly is. I'm starting to think I want one myself,"
The moment Dumbledore finished speaking, nearly everyone turned their gaze toward him.
"Severus, if I remember correctly, you know a spell called Sectumsempra, right?" Kasen suddenly said.
Snape glanced at Dumbledore, who was smiling ever so cheerfully, and in full agreement, he pulled out his wand.
Of course, jokes were jokes. As much as Dumbledore, being a true Gryffindor, might actually chop off his own hand just to have something that cool, Snape was still rational enough not to follow through with it.
...
Time slipped into the dead of night. Kasen, having left the Great Hall, let out a satisfied burp.
He recalled that during the feast, some young wizards had complained to him that his office was too big, and moving around inside was super inconvenient.
Well, that was an easy fix.
In his left hand, Kasen conjured an ice block; in his right, a wooden boat.
"Maybe I should host a boat race in my office," Kasen raised his palm dramatically, and Dumbledore felt danger incoming.
_____
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