When Kai Adler walked toward the Slytherin long table, many students took notice.
After all, he had become something of a sensation at Hogwarts. On the day of his arrival, he had bypassed the Sorting Ceremony entirely and taken a seat at the Gryffindor table—a move astonishing enough on its own. Even more shocking was that Professor McGonagall, known for her strictness and adherence to rules, had permitted it without question.
He was also placed directly into the second year, something unheard of in the school's long history—not even the legendary Merlin had skipped a year. At first, some suspected he had gotten in through connections, perhaps via the Ministry or an influential family.
But any doubts began to fade when he was seen routinely assisting Professor Lockhart, calmly cleaning up after the man's frequent magical mishaps with the poise of someone twice his age. Then came the Duelling Club incident—he had faced off against Professor Snape himself. Though he ultimately "retreated" from the duel, the mere fact that he held his own, however briefly, against a master-level professor earned him undeniable respect. Seventh-years wouldn't dare attempt what he had done.
Coupled with his striking appearance and calm, aristocratic manners, Kai quickly became the subject of admiration and envy alike. If this were a Muggle school, he'd no doubt be hailed as the most eligible student in the country. Even at Hogwarts, he'd captured the imagination of many young witches—and some young wizards as well.
As he approached, a number of Slytherin girls gazed at him with poorly concealed fascination.
Draco Malfoy, however, could hardly contain his irritation. He had disliked Kai from the moment he arrived, and his dislike only grew each time he overheard other students praising Kai's intellect, magical ability, or—most unbearable of all—his looks.
It was precisely that irritation that had inspired Draco to orchestrate this plan: an enchanted pastry infused with a subtle emotional manipulation potion. One whiff and the target's defences would soften. A bite, and their guard would melt altogether. At least, that was how it was meant to work.
But to his dismay, Kai hadn't eaten the pastry. Instead, he now stood in front of him, tray in hand, wearing a polite smile that made it hard to feel anything but cordial.
"Young Master Malfoy," Kai said smoothly, "thank you for your generous and… shall we say, 'tempting' gift."
His tone was gracious, but those close enough to hear detected the subtle edge beneath the civility. A few of the girls nearby looked utterly starstruck.
Draco's jaw clenched. He forced a smile. The entire scenario was slipping out of his control.
"But sadly," Kai continued, "my friends and I are quite full. It would be a shame for these to go to waste, though. Perhaps you should enjoy them yourself."
Draco's forced smile stiffened. Of course, he couldn't eat them—he knew exactly what he'd laced into the recipe.
"It's nothing," he replied, trying to sound magnanimous. "Just a little token of goodwill. Keep them—have them later, perhaps."
How interesting, Kai mused inwardly. This was the first time he'd heard Draco speak in such a restrained tone. Usually, the boy strutted around as though the school belonged to the Malfoys and he was the heir apparent to Merlin himself.
"No need," Kai replied, eyes flicking briefly to Crabbe—still standing awkwardly nearby, his gaze riveted on the dessert tray, lips moistening unconsciously.
"I appreciate the gesture," Kai continued, his voice light, "but it seems your friend here has quite the appetite. Why not let him have it?"
He gently slid the tray across the table toward Crabbe.
The larger boy's eyes lit up, and he eagerly reached for one of the delicacies.
"Put that down, you idiot!" Draco snapped, slapping his hand away with a sharp hiss. The sudden outburst drew attention from nearby students.
Kai tilted his head slightly, feigning concern. "Young Master Malfoy, it's just a pastry. Surely you're not being possessive over something you've already given away?"
Then, a touch lower and pointed: "Unless, of course… there's something wrong with them?"
The tension at the table rose noticeably. Draco let out a laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "Of course not! I just meant… well, these were made for you. Not him."
Crabbe lowered his hand, shoulders sagging in disappointment.
Kai smiled again—serene, impenetrable. "If you're offering friendship to me, then surely your companion is also included in that sentiment. Isn't that right?"
Crabbe looked up, startled. There was something genuine in Kai's voice that no one had ever offered him before. Friend.
Draco, missing Crabbe's expression entirely, gave a strained nod. "Of course."
"Wonderful," said Kai. "Since these now belong to me, I suppose I'm free to give them away as I please?"
"Certainly…" Draco muttered.
Kai's eyes narrowed slightly. "So if I give them to your friend here, you won't object?"
Draco opened his mouth, but before he could protest, Kai delivered the finishing blow: "Or perhaps I should ask Professor Snape to judge? I'm sure a Potions Master would find these… fascinating."
Panic flickered across Draco's face. The last thing he wanted was Snape involved. Snape would see through the potion instantly—and the punishment wouldn't be mild.
Draco swallowed hard, then turned to Crabbe. "Since Kai says it's alright, then go ahead. Eat it."
Crabbe needed no further encouragement. He picked up the pastry and took a massive bite, chewing with obvious delight.
Draco leaned back, tension easing as he watched. See? The potion's not that strong, he told himself. Kai probably just didn't eat enough of it to be affected.
But the moment of relief was short-lived.
Crabbe's chewing slowed, his eyes glazing over. He blinked once. Twice.
Then, with a strange, vacant expression, he turned to the other large boy beside him.
"Goyle… my Goyle…"
Before anyone could react, Crabbe lunged forward and wrapped Goyle in an enthusiastic hug, pressing his chubby face against the other's and planting a loud, wet kiss on his cheek.
The Great Hall erupted.
Goyle struggled violently, but Crabbe was too heavy, too strong—and far too lovestruck to be stopped.
"Goyle, I love you!"
"DRACO! GET HIM OFF ME!" Goyle shrieked, now nearly horizontal across the table.
Students shrieked with laughter or backed away in horror as the two rolled over plates and cutlery. The Slytherin table cleared a space around them with remarkable speed.
Meanwhile, Kai remained where he was, one arm resting on the table, watching the scene with a wry, unreadable expression.
"Draco Malfoy," he said at last, voice low and composed, "was this your idea of goodwill?"
The full name stung more than any insult.
Draco couldn't answer. His face was a swirl of pale confusion and rising panic.
"You should've seen the performance," Kai added, tone light but laced with iron. "Truly unforgettable."
"I—I don't know what happened—" Draco stammered. "Maybe Crabbe… maybe he already had feelings for Goyle…"
"Oh?" Kai raised an eyebrow and turned to the chaos behind him. "If so, they must have been very repressed."
Back at the Gryffindor table, Ron was laughing so hard he nearly fell off his bench. "Serves them right! Karma, that's what this is!"
Harry chuckled too, but Hermione looked pale.
She'd seen everything. She'd watched Crabbe fall apart under the potion's influence. And she couldn't stop thinking—
What if Kai had been the one to eat it?
The thought of him losing his composure, his dignity, of him being the one pinned to the table under Crabbe or Goyle—
Her stomach turned.
Thank Merlin Kai Adler was clever enough to see through it all.