In almost an instant, the entire Z9 broomstick erupted with a terrifying sonic boom. About three seconds later, the broom came to a sharp, perfectly timed stop right in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling window.
Kasenhis, strapped securely to the broom by a magical seatbelt, remained perfectly in place.
He was now very evenly—no, very comfortably—smeared against the glass window, slowly sliding downward like a sad pancake.
"BRUUUUUCE! Are you okay?!"
Sirius, now slumped like a dead dog in the crevice between the window and the floor, lifted his head with visible effort. He desperately wanted to speak—to shout that his name was not bloody Bruce. Content orıginally comes from 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕·𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎·𝚗𝚎𝚝
But in the end, he just tilted his head... and passed out.
Last night, a thoroughly drunk Kasenhis had dragged the nearly-dead Sirius back to his 3rd-floor bedroom. After confirming that Sirius's tag still only read "Beast"—and not anything like "Deceased" or "Soulless" or other spooky nonsense—he finally let out a sigh of relief.
He casually plopped Sirius down next to the bed, climbed onto the mattress himself, and promptly passed out.
Originally, there had been a clear division of space between them, but at some point Kasenhis had rolled over—right on top of Sirius.
"Uh... you okay, Bruce?" Kasenhis did a smooth roll to the side, off of Sirius, and awkwardly used the drunken nickname he'd invented the night before.
Sirius's tiny doggy eyes looked up at him with deep resentment—utterly defeated by life.
For a moment, he genuinely considered death as an option.
Not that he hadn't already flirted with it the night before.
"Uh… if you're not saying anything, I'm gonna assume you're fine?" Kasenhis muttered, rubbing his own temples.
He reached down, slipped both hands under Sirius's front legs, and hoisted the dog up, inspecting his furry face…
Then his furry belly.
He looked at… well...
"Hmm... I should introduce you to Hagrid's dog Fang. You two might actually have a lot in common. If I remember correctly, Fang's a girl, so hey, maybe you can have some heart-to-hearts."
Kasenhis said it offhandedly, just musing aloud.
But the previously expressionless Sirius, still hanging limply in Kasenhis's arms, instantly went from lukewarm stew to boiling oil—furiously squirming like a pot ready to explode.
"Whoa whoa whoa—!" Kasenhis immediately extended his arms, holding Sirius as far away from himself as possible.
"If you don't like the idea, you could just say something, y'know…" he muttered, a little louder than before.
Sirius was just as loud… in his silence.
The sheer volume of his wordless rage could be heard in every trembling whisker.
"Emmm… alright then. You hang around here, stretch your legs or whatever. I'm going to grab breakfast. Don't worry, I'll bring you something too," Kasenhis said awkwardly as he set Sirius down on the floor.
Then—poof—he vanished with a quick Ender Blink.
Meanwhile, down in the Great Hall, Dumbledore was currently trying (and failing) to spread some butter on a slice of bone-dry toast with a blunt knife, and deeply regretting choosing that particular piece of bread in the first place.
Still, this was the Great Hall, after all. While there weren't that many students who had chosen to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays, it wasn't exactly deserted either.
And as the great Headmaster of Hogwarts, it would hardly be appropriate for him to waste food in public. Unacceptable. Utterly unacceptable.
Dumbledore cast a subtle glance toward the other scattered professors who'd also remained at school. Judging by the way they sat as far from him as humanly possible, it was clear none of them had any interest in getting involved with the tragedy currently known as "his dry piece of toast."
All he could do now was wait for Kasenhis to arrive at the Great Hall. Then, at lightning speed—faster than a whisper, sneakier than a Niffler—he could pass the bread to Professor Kasenhis and earn himself a nice reputation as a kind, thoughtful Headmaster who cared for his colleagues… by buttering their toast.
Sure enough, just as he'd hoped—BZZZT!—Kasenhis appeared at the staff table in a flash of magic. He gave the sad, dry breakfast spread a single disdainful glance and, without hesitation, peaced out.
Dumbledore, already halfway into the gesture of offering him the toast, froze mid-motion. Calling Kasenhis back? Not a good look. Eating it himself now? Even worse.
Luckily, his hand was still suspended awkwardly in the air… so with a tiny twitch of his wrist—Plop.
The toast slipped from his grasp and gracefully began its descent to the floor.
Just before it could hit the ground, the toast was snatched out of midair by a reappearing Kasenhis, who placed it neatly back onto Dumbledore's plate.
"Don't waste food," Kasenhis said, utterly serious.
"And… you're welcome."
Kasenhis downed the pumpkin juice in front of his seat in one go, then patted Dumbledore on the shoulder and headed off toward the Hogwarts kitchens.
After all, as a certified Hufflepuff—with the Sorting Hat's stamp of approval and Professor Sprout's confirmation—cooking up a little something extra in the kitchens was totally within his rights.
Just as Sirius Black was experimenting with how to stack two pillows into something that vaguely resembled a decent dog bed, he was startled by the sound of Apparition behind him.
He turned around, ears perking up, only to stare in bafflement at Kasenhis, who was now carrying a giant bag of food.
Kasenhis, already one step ahead, instantly figured out what Sirius had been planning. Like a dragon guarding its hoard, he snatched the pitiful pillow pile away from Sirius' paws and casually plopped down a wool block in its place.
"DIY or starve, buddy," said his expression.
Then, with practiced efficiency, he pulled out a wooden bowl—indestructible and unbreakable—and poured in the food he'd brought for Sirius, followed by a second bowl of clean water.
Only then did he finally sit in his chair and begin devouring his own breakfast atop his desk.
While munching away, he glanced at Sirius gnawing on the wool block in the corner with a complex expression.
In the end, he sighed deeply: alcohol ruins lives.
He hadn't planned on keeping a pet, not because he didn't like them, but because he was just that lazy. Sometimes he couldn't even take care of himself—he'd end up lying dead asleep on his bed until Neville or Hermione came to the office and force-fed him something.
And now, he had one more mouth to feed…
Polishing off the last piece of fried chicken in one massive chomp, Kasenhis let out a weary breath and made his way back to his 2nd-floor office.
After finishing breakfast and sobering up, Kasenhis finally resumed his main storyline quest.
Technically, yesterday's main quest had been to assist Lupin in hunting down Greyback, but… well, once alcohol entered the mix, the two of them had somehow just naturally wandered over to the Leaky Cauldron.
And there, Lupin had practically dragged Kasenhis back to Hogwarts by force.
After all, having spent nearly thirty years with his life off-course, Lupin's path had only just begun to be set right. He didn't want to keep relying on others. His bright future as a Hogwarts professor might still be a year away, but this year—at the very least—he wanted to take revenge with his own hands against the person who had made most of his life a living hell.
That kind of reckoning… needed to be done personally.
Hmm hmm! Kasenhis nodded thoughtfully.
Read 12 Chapters ahead of WN-