Having escaped famine, I was accepted into Hogwarts

"What do you mean?" Kane asked as he reached for a mandrake in a flowerpot in the corner and pulled it up.

"Tom will drain Quirrell's life force, and Quirrell, in order to avoid dying on the eve of what he considers victory, has already begun hunting unicorns in the Forbidden Forest and sustaining his life on unicorn blood."

"Unicorns have this function?" Kane looked up abruptly, and just as he was about to imagine something inappropriate, Dumbledore shook his head: "Drinking unicorn blood will bring you misfortune, and you don't need to. The Philosopher's Stone will bring you far more benefits than unicorn blood."

"Ah, then I'll have to make him a fully-equipped panpipe. The more successful he is in hunting unicorns, the later he'll reach for the Philosopher's Stone and me, and the more I can prepare."

Dumbledore nodded: "Your choice is correct, and I suggest you get a little closer to Quirrell. Know yourself and your enemy, and you can learn something from him before he takes full action."

"For example? Go with him to the Forbidden Forest to hunt unicorns?"

"Take dark magic, for example. At least in that respect, I'm no match for Tom. Of course, I'm just using it as an example, not suggesting you go to him to learn dark magic. But if you really want to learn..."

"I'll consider it."

After Kane finished speaking, he stuffed the mandrake into his pocket and was about to leave. The headmaster could just sit in his office and relax, while the students had a lot more to do.

Although Hogwarts can be considered a benchmark for happy education in schools all over the world, it also starts to act strangely as the end of the term approaches, just like most schools.

Almost every professor has endless highlights and extra tutoring sessions, especially for someone like Kane who has vicious dogs chasing after him.

In the evening, Kane, who had attended a full class for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, arrived at Professor Quirrell's office door feeling completely exhausted.

Before he could even knock, the door opened by itself.

"Ah~ Kane? It's me. Is my stuff finished? I'm on my way to the Forbidden Forest now, w- wanna come together?"

Chapter Sixty-Six: More Money Required

Kane handed the panpipes to Professor Quirrell.

"I really put in a lot of effort this time, and I can blow it a full ten times. I think that should be enough for you, right?"

When Quirrell heard the panpipes that could be played ten times, he felt like he was floating on air: "Th-thank you, you did a fantastic job."

"So, the Forbidden Forest? Do you want to go? I can help you obtain some rare materials."

Kane raised an eyebrow. Although he had enough materials, it wouldn't be a big deal to accept Quirrell's invitation.

Dumbledore was right. Whether it was stealing the Philosopher's Stone or taking away his own Shadow, the commotion would be enormous. Quirrell couldn't possibly do it in stages, because that would alert the enemy. So at least until Quirrell carried out his plan to steal the Philosopher's Stone, he was still safe. And going to the Forbidden Forest with Quirrell today would be a good opportunity to see the true colors of Quirrell and Voldemort behind him.

Know yourself and know your enemy.

"Would you mind waiting a moment? I'll write a letter to my friends."

Quirrell nodded: "Of course."

Kane tore off a piece of parchment and wrote down that he would most likely not be going home to sleep that night. He then summoned a bird to deliver it to the headmaster's office before looking at Quirrell.

"We can set off now."

"That's...that's great! Let's go!"

The two wizards, one large and one small, slowly left the castle and headed towards the Forbidden Forest in the distance.

Quirrell spoke just as the two were about to enter the woods.

"Kane, aren't you curious why I've come to the Forbidden Forest?"

Kane gave Quirrell a strange look: "Not at all. Every professor does something weird or unusual in the Forbidden Forest, more or less. And why aren't you stuttering anymore?"

Quirrell ignored Kane's last question and just chuckled twice: "Seriously Kane, I think you have talent."

"So? In what way?" Kane pursed his lips helplessly. He was already regretting coming here with Quirrell. Perhaps it was because Quirrell didn't stutter, or perhaps it was because of Voldemort's name on his back.

In short, Quirrell has now evolved into the form of a riddle man; talking to this kind of person for three sentences is no less than 45 minutes of fasted aerobic exercise.

“In many ways, Kane, you know, I’m going to die.” Quirrell, or rather Voldemort, suddenly stopped, turned around and looked at Kane.

He thought about it for a long time and finally decided to trust his intuition. After all, he could smell the dark magic aura in the child's body that could soften bones from a distance.

It would be almost impossible for someone like Kane to gain Dumbledore's trust, and Kane probably dislikes Dumbledore as well.

And most importantly, the Quirrell he's currently possessing is really useless. If it weren't for his timely intervention and Kane's panpipes, Quirrell wouldn't have been able to handle even a unicorn.

With Kane around, the panpipes can be ignored. As long as Kane can use his shadow magic skillfully, my infiltration of Hogwarts will be much smoother.

Therefore, he now needs to have an open and honest deal with Kane, using what he can offer in exchange for Kane's current help.

As for whether this bargaining chip will actually be honored... well, we'll have to talk to his magic transfer altar about that later.

Of course, it doesn't matter if the negotiations don't go smoothly; his Soul-Stealing Curse might still be useful.

Voldemort looked at Kane's confused expression with what could be described as eager eyes.

"Why do I feel like I'm the one who doesn't have much time left, if we stand together and just look at our complexions?" Kane replied, frowning.

Voldemort was stunned for a moment, as if he had swallowed a pile of dung. Kane's abstract answer was like choosing "or" from two options: yes or no, giving one the urge to pull out a wand and devour a melon.

Voldemort could only continue leading Kane deeper into the Forbidden Forest, guiding him as they went: "Aren't you curious why I came to the Forbidden Forest?"

"Everyone has secrets..." Kane had barely finished speaking when he sensed that the atmosphere around Voldemort, who was not far ahead, had become even colder. Oh well, he might as well play along a little.

"You said you're dying, so there's something in the Forbidden Forest that can prolong your life?" Kane wrote the standard answer directly on the test paper, and Voldemort finally felt that the situation was back under his control.

“You’re very clever, Kane. I came here to find something to prolong my life, unicorn blood, but unfortunately, those are only temporary.”

After Voldemort finished speaking, Kane merely nodded mechanically. However, he quickly realized that he now had to cooperate and asked somewhat helplessly, "Is unicorn blood just a temporary solution? Is there anything that can completely solve your problem?"

The wind whistled twice in the Forbidden Forest, and Kane unconsciously turned up the flame in the thermos in his pocket a little bigger.

Voldemort, meanwhile, thought to himself with satisfaction, "Finally, they've fallen for it!"

"Do you know about the Philosopher's Stone?" Voldemort said quietly.

Kane awkwardly scratched his chin. He knew all too well about the Philosopher's Stone; it was currently hanging inside his collar. However, to play along with Quirrell, he shook his head: "I don't know."

Having obtained the complete script from Dumbledore beforehand, Kane successfully charmed Voldemort with his high emotional intelligence, turning him into a smooth talker. Voldemort was amazed that there could be such a perfect comedian in the world.

However, he still didn't forget the important matter. He told Kane the whole story he had come up with on a whim: Dumbledore had the Philosopher's Stone, a miraculous elixir, but he was stingy and hid it away, refusing to give it to the professor to save his life.

Dumbledore? Stingy?

Kane recalled Dumbledore, who could conjure up the Philosopher's Stone with a wave of his hand, and couldn't possibly put those two words together. However, on the surface, he still responded with a series of "hmm," "ha," and "nods"—a three-part combo.

"Dumbledore is so wicked!"

Fortunately, the Forbidden Forest was unusually dark at night, and Quirrell was the one walking in front; otherwise, he was afraid that he would not be able to hold back his laughter and that Voldemort would see it and become alert.

“Don’t talk about your headmaster like that, Kane. Perhaps he has his reasons? We can’t judge him on that level. Of course, Death is coming for me, so I have my reasons for doing this too. They can’t judge me on that level either. So Kane, would you do me a favor?” Voldemort slowly stopped in his tracks.

He crouched down and pointed to the pure white unicorn not far away, which looked as if it had stepped out of an oil painting.

"For my life, use shadow on it."

Kane took out his wand, but had no intention of casting a spell: "Professor, I would very much like to do something to prolong your life, but as far as I know, wizards who have harmed unicorns have never had a good ending."

"You mean..." Voldemort asked quietly.

"You need to pay more!"

Chapter Sixty-Seven: Snape's Reputation Was Harmed

"What do you need?" Voldemort asked quietly.

“Knowledge.” Kane paused after saying that. He had deep doubts about Professor Quirrell’s teaching ability. If it were Voldemort teaching... he would have the same doubts.

After all, was Voldemort ever a professor? Could he have taught students well?

Unfortunately, there's no turning back now. The words have already been spoken, and to go back and come up with a new reason would be too deliberate.

“No problem. Come to my office every Wednesday evening from now on, and I will personally teach you.” Unexpectedly, Voldemort agreed with surprising ease, as if Kane’s condition was not a condition but a reward.

"Now, Kane, let me see your strength, even if it's just to get a feel for you beforehand."

After Voldemort finished speaking, he stood quietly in place, intending to watch Kane's performance. That kind of dark magic, so deeply ingrained and seemingly innate, was something he could never get enough of watching.

Kane sighed. In the end, he still had to take action. But there was nothing to say. Back in the Eternal Realm, he would help take a couple of punches even if two butterflies were flying by the roadside. He wouldn't be much different from this unicorn.

"Alive or dead?" he asked.

"Alive".

As Voldemort finished speaking, the shadow beneath Kane's feet moved.

The shadow that had been clinging to him seemed to transform into a liquid, scattering in all directions and spinning endlessly around the lonely unicorn who knew nothing at the moment.

Suddenly, several sounds rang out throughout the Forbidden Forest. Not only did Kane's shadow, which had just slipped away, come to life, but most of the shadows centered on the unicorn also came to life.

Like slowly boiling a frog, the space in which a unicorn can move is gradually compressed.

Voldemort stood not far away, motionless, watching the overwhelming shadows that seemed to see enemies everywhere. He raised an eyebrow and smirked excitedly; this power should be his.

Kane, a mere wizard, could he possibly understand how to use it?

Thinking of this, his gaze towards Kane's retreating figure burned even brighter. He just needed to wait a little longer, until he figured out exactly what the challenges of protecting the magic stone were...

Meanwhile, under the unnoticed pressure of the shadows, by the time the unicorn realized what was happening, it was already completely immobilized and could only watch Voldemort approach from a distance to pick the peaches.

He picked up a stone from the ground and magically transformed it into a golden goblet. With his other hand, he held his wand and slashed across the unicorn's neck, spilling the unicorn's bright silver blood into the goblet.

After filling the cup, he drank it all in one gulp, and then started on the second cup.

"Kane, are you sure you don't want to try some?" Voldemort called out to Kane, who was sitting on a tree stump not far away.

"I'm not interested at all. It's said that drinking unicorn blood is cursed, and I don't think I'm tough enough, plus there's no need for it." Kane shook his head. He had absolutely no interest in such a bizarre spectacle as drinking blood, and even felt a bit sleepy.

Soon, Voldemort finished drinking the blood of an entire unicorn before leaving the Forbidden Forest with Kane, completely satisfied.

"Remember our agreement, every Wednesday evening, I think it's the day after tomorrow. Don't be late, we have a new adventure ahead."

After Voldemort finished speaking, he disappeared down the corridor, while Kane rubbed his eyes and headed towards the Gryffindor Tower.

Halfway there, Kane suddenly felt a pair of hands grabbing him and pulling him towards one of the places. Kane was so frightened that he thought Charlie was chasing after him while he had a light source.

Fortunately, it wasn't Charlie's older sister who caught him, but Harry and his two friends.

After calming his heart, which had nearly jumped out of his throat, he slowly exhaled: "It's so late at night, two hours past curfew. Are you guys not sleeping soundly in your dorms just here to arrest me?"

Harry held up a finger to shush: "This is very important. We know who Nicolas Flamel is."

Kane scratched his head: "So? Who is it?"

"The only great alchemist in British history, and indeed in the entire history of magic, to have successfully created a Philosopher's Stone!" Hermione replied.