Kai Adler had originally wanted Hermione to witness the casting of his first Expecto Patronum alone. It was something deeply personal, a symbol of his progress, of his place in this new world. But then, a certain meddlesome old man appeared.
Kai pursed his lips slightly, his eyes half-closed, a quiet smile playing on his face.
Hermione stood silently beside him, holding her breath, not daring to blink. On the other side, Professor Dumbledore wore an uncharacteristically solemn expression, watching him carefully.
Kai took a slow breath and raised his wand—white sycamore wood gleaming softly in the light. His voice, though quiet, resonated with intent.
"Expecto Patronum."
A thick stream of silver-white mist poured from the tip of his wand, drifting in the air like milk mixing into still water. It did not burst forward with dramatic force, but instead flowed outward in slow, graceful currents—as if the air before him were an ocean, and the magic was spreading calmly across it.
There was no backlash this time. No pain. No interference.
The mist expanded, surrounding them in an ethereal glow before pulling back in on itself, condensing into a slowly spinning oval. Hermione frowned slightly.
"An… egg?" she murmured in confusion.
Even Dumbledore blinked in surprise. He had only seen this once before, a century ago—when he himself had first cast the Patronus Charm.
Most wizards, upon casting the spell, produced either a formless mist or a fully formed creature. But this… this was something different. A phenomenon rare enough to be near-mythical.
An egg-shaped Patronus was a sign that the creature within already possessed a soul—sentience equal to that of a human. It was not forming; it was waiting to be born.
A faint sound began to echo through the Room of Requirement. Long, deep, mournful. The kind of sound that settled in one's bones and stirred the heart. Hermione felt a weightlessness in her chest, as though all her troubles had momentarily disappeared. Dumbledore, too, stood still, caught in the gravity of that sound.
But then… came a strange feeling. Not joy. Not hope. But—
Sadness.
Dumbledore's brows furrowed. A Patronus was meant to be a manifestation of positive emotion. Why then… did it feel so melancholic?
Had Kai failed again?
He turned to glance at the boy, but Kai seemed entirely at peace, his eyes focused on the luminous mist before him. Lost in memory.
The mournful sound echoed again, clearer now. It was coming from the glowing mist—the egg—whose surface was beginning to ripple and pulse as though something inside was stirring.
Hermione's fists were clenched in anticipation. She was holding her breath.
Kai's lips quirked upward. He flicked his wand, and at that moment, the mist burst apart in a flood of brilliance.
A colossal silver form leapt into the air, graceful and majestic—a whale, suspended in shimmering magic. The sound that followed was like the call of the deep sea: haunting, vast, beautiful.
For a fleeting moment, all of Hogwarts paused. Conversations halted, quills froze mid-word. Professors and students alike turned toward the north tower, as if something ancient had awoken.
Snape looked up from his desk, frowning. He recognized the feel of that magic—but the scale was like nothing he'd sensed before.
Back inside the Room of Requirement, Hermione stood frozen, mouth slightly open in awe.
"A whale…" she breathed. "No, a blue whale?"
Kai nodded, his eyes following the massive creature's gentle movements. "Yes. The largest living creature on Earth."
Hermione's eyes sparkled with wonder. "It's… it's beautiful."
"Want to ride it?"
She turned to him in astonishment, then glanced back at the glowing Patronus. "Is that possible?"
"Ordinarily? No," Kai said with a chuckle. "But mine… mine is different."
At his silent command, the whale's vast form began to shrink—not disappearing, but compacting, until it was no more than ten meters long. It lowered itself before her like a loyal steed.
Hermione hesitated for a moment, then reached out to touch it. The surface of the Patronus was cool and smooth, like moonlight made tangible. Her expression lit up, and with childlike glee, she swung herself sideways onto its back.
With a powerful flick of its glowing tail, the whale soared upward, lifting her high into the air. Her laughter, pure and bright, rang through the chamber like wind chimes in summer.
Kai watched her in silence, the edges of his mouth lifting gently. He carved the moment into his memory—the girl and the whale, suspended in magic and light.
"When you cast it," Dumbledore asked quietly, "what were you thinking about?"
Kai kept his eyes on the soaring whale. "The first time I saw magic."
Dumbledore raised a brow.
"I had just arrived in this world. Everything was foreign. Language. People. Even gravity felt wrong. I didn't belong. I didn't even speak… But then, that first night in Nurmengard, I saw a teacup floating gently in the air." He smiled faintly. "That was when I felt wonder. Real, untainted wonder. It made me want to learn magic. Not for power. Not to destroy. Just to understand it. To feel it."
He paused.
"Somewhere along the line… I forgot that feeling. But in Charms class today, I saw it again—laughter for no reason other than joy. It reminded me."
Dumbledore stood quietly beside him, his gaze returning to the Patronus soaring overhead.
He understood now.
The blue whale was not random.
It was symbolic—of size, of strength, of solitude. Because of its enormity, only one blue whale could inhabit an ocean region at a time. The resources could not sustain two. So, they roamed alone through the endless deep, calling into the void, hoping for an answer.
Just like Kai.
A being too large for this world. Too different. Too rare.
But Dumbledore followed the boy's eyes, saw where he was looking—not at the whale, but at the girl laughing above it.
Kai Adler's call… had been answered.