Kyle, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley children had spent the evening throwing gnomes in the yard, but now it was time for dinner. After playing for a while, Mrs. Weasley's familiar voice called out from The Burrow, announcing that the meal was ready. The group, already hungry, quickly abandoned their game and made their way back to the house.
As they walked, Kyle casually handed out the remaining Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans from the prize box he had won earlier. He gave Ron one and popped one into his own mouth, leaving the rest for Ginny. The young girl, wary of the dreaded dragon dung flavor, hurried over to Kyle, hoping he'd help her avoid any unpleasant surprises.
Kyle understood her request, but he resolutely refused, saying, "Young people need to try new things, Ginny. After all, the whole point of Bertie Bott's Beans is the surprise. If there were no risks, they'd just be called sugar beans."
Ginny pouted, but Kyle stood his ground. He wasn't being lazy—he was just encouraging her sense of adventure. After all, the tagline was "Every bite is a new adventure!"
A few minutes later, the group started toward the house, Kyle leading the way with Ron close behind. But before they got far, Fred and George came barreling forward, shoving Ron to the side as they hurried past. Ron stumbled, nearly falling into a nearby gnome hole, and shot the twins an angry look. His face turned red with frustration, clearly ready to lash out at them if they didn't apologize.
Unfortunately for Ron, Fred and George didn't even notice. Their attention was completely focused on Kyle. They'd been scheming ever since their mishap in Diagon Alley, which they considered one of the most embarrassing moments of their lives. The twins had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to get back at Kyle, and now that they were back at The Burrow, that chance had arrived.
Ron fumed silently behind them, but he knew from experience that confronting his older brothers would only lead to a tussle he couldn't win. Fred and George had bullied him plenty of times before, and things usually worked themselves out after a few days and a shared snack. For now, however, Ron had no choice but to accept that they were too focused on Kyle to care about his grievances.
As everyone made their way to the dining area, Mrs. Weasley set up a cozy table outside in the yard to accommodate the larger group. Once Kyle sat down in his usual spot, Fred and George quickly flanked him, sitting on either side with suspicious grins. Kyle raised an eyebrow, immediately sensing that something was up.
"Huh?" he muttered to himself, a little surprised. He had never seen the twins sit apart like this. Their sudden positioning was far too deliberate. "This doesn't bode well," Kyle thought.
Their intentions were clear enough, but without knowing what they had planned, Kyle decided to act normal and helped Mrs. Weasley finish setting the table. As he arranged the last dish, his nose was met with the mouthwatering aroma of hearty home-cooked food: fluffy, crispy buns, soft roasted potatoes, fragrant roast chicken, golden fried chicken nuggets, and tender veal steaks. It was a feast fit for a family, as always at the Weasleys' table.
Once the food was served and everyone had taken their seats, dinner officially began. Kyle remained cautious throughout, keenly aware that the twins were likely planning some kind of mischief. He carefully examined every bite, not wanting to accidentally eat something strange. He'd rather not suffer any public embarrassment, especially with Fred and George sitting so close, clearly plotting something.
Though the food was delicious, Kyle couldn't help but wonder about Hogwarts' meals. He wasn't expecting Chinese food, but maybe he could hope for some good French cuisine—or at the very least, a decent pasta or pizza. For now, though, he kept his focus on his plate, determined not to fall into whatever trap Fred and George had prepared.
...
With Kyle on high alert, the twins' plan seemed to stall. Throughout dinner, Fred and George behaved as usual, cracking jokes and making everyone laugh without showing any signs of mischief. Kyle's suspicion began to wane as the meal progressed.
However, just as the table reached its liveliest point, Fred struck. After telling a particularly funny joke about a Slytherin student with greasy hair, he turned to George and said, "Hey, George, Kyle's going to Hogwarts tomorrow. Should we give him some advice? You know, for his own safety. After all, it can be pretty dangerous."
George, who had been struggling to swallow a large bite of steak, caught on immediately. He pretended to consider the suggestion for a moment before responding, "Hmm, I don't think it's necessary, Fred. We should trust Kyle—he's very capable. It's only an adult Troll after all. He'll definitely be able to take it down and pass the House sorting without any problems."
Fred nodded solemnly. "You're right, George. And Mr. Kyle Chopper, with his pride, surely wouldn't want to rely on us for help. He doesn't even call us seniors."
Their plan was simple: scare Kyle with exaggerated stories about Hogwarts' House sorting, making him lose sleep the night before his big day. Fred, grinning with satisfaction, was certain this would be the perfect revenge for what had happened in Diagon Alley.
As if on cue, the adults joined in, their eyes gleaming with mischief. The topic of the "New Students House Sorting," or more specifically, terrifying new students before they entered Hogwarts, had always been a popular pastime among older wizards. It was now Kyle's turn to be the victim of their well-practiced prank.
"My dear, don't believe them," Mrs. Weasley said, scolding the twins with a tone that was only half serious. She turned to Kyle, smiling reassuringly. "It's really not that scary, just a little test involving some ghosts. There's no real danger at all."
"Molly, how can you lie to the boy?" Mr. Weasley chimed in, faking outrage as he shot a mock-glare at his wife. "Kyle's a smart lad. We should be honest with him. I'm sure he could handle taming a Hippogriff by himself."
"A Hippogriff? I thought it was a Dragon?" Chris said, pretending to be confused before turning to Kyle with absolute certainty. "Son, trust your father. It's definitely a Dragon. And I bet this year it'll be a Hungarian Horntail."
The chaotic back-and-forth continued, with each adult throwing in their own ridiculous version of what Kyle might face at Hogwarts. Fred and George sat back, pleased that their prank was gaining momentum, sure that Kyle would fall for it.
But Kyle, already onto them, played his part perfectly. He nodded along seriously to each ridiculous claim, responding with phrases like, "Oh, I see," "Yes, I can," and "I trust you, Dad," all while keeping a straight face.
Mrs. Weasley looked relieved. Mr. Weasley appeared more determined than ever. And Chris, though still uncertain, seemed to take some comfort in Kyle's unwavering agreement.
The truth was, Kyle knew what this was—a ritual of sorts, a kind of playful hazing. The wizarding world had limited sources of entertainment: Quidditch, some minor festivities, and, of course, fooling young witches and wizards. It was tradition, and Kyle had no reason to spoil their fun. He played along with enthusiasm, finding it amusing rather than nerve-wracking. After all, he thought, it's just a show. Let them have their fun.
As laughter and banter filled the table, no one seemed to notice two small, helpless figures trembling in the far corner—two garden gnomes who had wandered too close to the festivities, caught in the crossfire of the night's lighthearted pranks.
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Kyle may not have been fooled by the adults' usual tall tales, but they had definitely done the trick for Ron and Ginny. Ron, in particular, had been listening intently, eager to gather some inside knowledge for when he started Hogwarts the following year. But as the conversation progressed, his face turned a sickly shade of pale.
Trolls, ghosts, and Hippogriffs were extreme, sure, but Ron figured he could manage to escape if things got really bad. The Hogwarts professors wouldn't let students face anything truly deadly... right? But a dragon? That was another matter entirely. Dragons were classified as XXXXX-level magical creatures, dangerous even to fully trained adult wizards. For an eleven-year-old, facing a dragon sounded like certain death. By the time the professors had cast their protection spells, Ron feared he'd already be a pile of ash from a single sneeze of dragon fire.
"Is this seriously what school is like?" Ron thought, his heart sinking. He felt an overwhelming urge to run away from home and never look back. Hogwarts sounded less like a place of learning and more like a death trap.
Ginny wasn't faring much better. Her usually vibrant red hair seemed to have lost its shine, and her face was pale as she stared down at her plate, visibly shaken.
Kyle, noticing her distress, leaned over with concern. "What's wrong, Ginny?" he asked softly. "Why aren't you eating? Are you feeling unwell?"
Ginny shook her head quickly, not wanting to admit her fear in front of her brothers. "No, I'm fine," she said, forcing a smile. "I'm just... full."
Given that she was only nine and had already eaten half a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, it wasn't entirely a lie—her appetite wasn't large to begin with. The sudden talk about dragons and sorting, however, had sapped the rest of her hunger.
"I see, that's a shame," Kyle replied, accepting her explanation without much thought. He calmly reached over and took the grilled fish from Ginny's plate, placing it onto his own. Grilled fish was one of Mrs. Weasley's specialties, and it was best eaten fresh. He'd been craving it for a while, so he wasn't about to let it go to waste.
Ginny didn't stop him, though she watched with a sad expression as Kyle devoured the fish she had been saving. The thought of having to face a dragon in two years had killed any remaining desire for food. In the end, she simply turned her head away, hoping to forget about it.
Fred and George, seated next to her, sighed dramatically in unison. They had also been eyeing the grilled fish, but Kyle had beaten them to it.
Undeterred, the twins shifted their focus to Ron. Unfortunately for them, Ron's plate had already been picked clean. His fish was long gone, the bones gnawed so thoroughly that even a Flobberworm would have trouble finding anything left to slide across.
Seeing their chance for mischief, Fred leaned in with a grin. "What's wrong, Ron? Scared of the dragon?" he teased, patting Ron on the shoulder in a rare display of brotherly concern. "Don't worry, the dragon's only there for one year. By the time you get to Hogwarts, they'll probably replace it with another creature."
"Yeah," George chimed in with perfect timing. "I think it'll be spiders next year. I saw some in the Forbidden Forest—about the size of gnomes. Maybe Hagrid's getting them ready for the Sorting Ceremony."
At the mention of spiders, Ron's face went from pale to ghostly white. His eyes widened in sheer terror. "No!" he screamed, throwing his cutlery down and bolting from the table, sprinting back toward The Burrow without a second thought.
Fred and George burst out laughing, watching with wicked delight as Ron dashed away in pure panic. They'd succeeded in scaring him senseless, and the way he had reacted was everything they had hoped for.
But despite their victory, the twins didn't entirely escape consequences for their mischief. As they laughed, Mrs. Weasley's sharp voice rang out from across the table.
"George, why were you in the Forbidden Forest?" Mrs. Weasley's sharp question cut through the twins' laughter like a blade. She fixed them with a stern gaze, her keen eyes narrowing. "I don't recall Hogwarts allowing first years into the Forbidden Forest."
Fred and George froze in their tracks, realizing they'd said too much. "Mum, I can explain..." Fred started, but it was too late.
The twins attempted to make a break for it, but having only just begun their second year, they were no match for Mrs. Weasley. She quickly caught them, and what followed was the familiar scene of motherly scolding and the twins' attempts at half-hearted apologies.
Though Kyle had witnessed this ritual countless times over the years, it never ceased to entertain him. He watched with interest, and his appetite even improved as he enjoyed the show.
Kyle didn't doubt that the twins had ventured into the Forbidden Forest—they were known for their reckless behavior. However, he was pretty sure the part about the spiders was just a ploy to scare Ron. Though it's ironic, Kyle thought, that they accidentally stumbled onto the truth. The Acromantulas in the forest were far from harmless, and if Fred and George had really encountered one, they'd likely have set up a permanent residence there by now.
Kyle recalled that the Acromantula colony was deep within the forest. Fred and George, adventurous as they were, wouldn't have ventured that far in. They might have been troublemakers, but they weren't suicidal. They didn't have Harry Potter's luck—or his knack for getting into life-threatening situations.
After another twenty minutes or so, dinner began to wind down. Despite a few interruptions, the evening had been lively and enjoyable for everyone. Kyle, especially, had a great time.
Once dinner ended, Percy went upstairs to review his homework, ever the diligent student. Meanwhile, Ron—carrying a small bundle in a bid to run away from home—was caught and was now taking the twins' place, being chased around the yard by a determined Mrs. Weasley.
As this chaotic scene played out, Mr. Weasley and Chris continued their conversation in a quieter corner of the Burrow.
"Chris, what you did earlier was a bit much," Mr. Weasley said, shaking his head with a smile. "It's just the sorting, after all—no one actually faces a dragon! Kyle's clever; I'm sure he realized we were pulling his leg."
"No, Arthur, you've got it wrong," Chris replied, shaking his head. "The plan was never going to work. You see, Kyle has spent at least two months every year with Newt Scamander since he was three. Do you really think he's afraid of trolls or Hippogriffs?"
Mr. Weasley blinked, momentarily thrown off by the information. "Oh... I suppose that makes sense. But wait—are you saying Kyle can, well... communicate with Magical Creatures? Like you?"
Chris nodded with a small smile. "Exactly. So, it's impossible for him to be afraid of a Hippogriff. He's used to dealing with creatures far more dangerous than that. Honestly, the only thing that might give him pause is a full-grown dragon."
Mr. Weasley glanced at Chris, a hint of envy creeping into his expression. "That's an incredible ability. If only I could communicate with Muggle objects the way you do with magical creatures..."
"Wait—what?" Chris was caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. He stifled a laugh, realizing where Arthur's thoughts had wandered. "It's not as impressive as it sounds, Arthur. My ability is limited to magical creatures—mice, toads, owls, that sort of thing. Regular animals don't respond. You can only figure out what they're thinking through experience."
Chris's point was clear: even if Mr. Weasley magically changed his surname to Chopper, he wouldn't suddenly be able to have meaningful conversations with everyday objects like toasters or cars.
-------
In the wizarding world, September 1st is a very important day, especially for witches and wizards over the age of eleven who have not yet graduated. On this day, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry begins its school year. Young witches and wizards who have just turned eleven eagerly await this day, counting down with anticipation, hoping it will come quickly.
However, for those aged twelve to seventeen, it's not necessarily a day of excitement. The start of the school year marks the end of a carefree summer holiday, bringing with it the realization that all the work they had blissfully forgotten about is now waiting for them. And that, of course, is not good news.
This feeling was especially true for Kyle and the Weasley twins. In the front yard of The Burrow, Kyle, standing in front, looked excited, while Fred and George, who were behind him, seemed nervous, whispering to each other occasionally as if they were first-years heading to Hogwarts for the very first time. Yes, Kyle was here too.
Chris had planned to Disapparate with him directly to King's Cross, but just before they could leave, Mrs. Weasley had appeared at the door. She seemed to know exactly what Chris had in mind and, without missing a beat, told him that there were too many Muggles at King's Cross for it to be safe to Disapparate. She insisted that Kyle should travel with them instead. Chris, seeing Mrs. Weasley's determined expression, swallowed his objections and simply nodded in agreement.
Meanwhile, Kyle rubbed his forehead in mild frustration. He wanted to point out to Mrs. Weasley that, in the eyes of Muggles, seeing nine people pile out of a Ford would be far more conspicuous than two people suddenly appearing out of thin air. After all, they weren't in India, and the Ford wasn't some sacred vehicle with a diamond-shaped logo allowing infinite passengers. But, at eleven years old, his opinion didn't carry much weight, so he stayed quiet.
Just then, Mrs. Weasley approached Kyle and asked kindly, "Dear, have you packed everything?"
"Of course," Kyle replied, giving a light kick to the large suitcase at his feet. "I checked it three times before we left. Everything's in there."
"That's good," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile and a nod.
While they were talking, Mr. Weasley arrived, pulling up in an old, vintage car. It was their mode of transport for the day—a Ford that had passed through at least nine different owners and been bought from who knows where. Yet Mr. Weasley adored it and treated it with great care.
"What are we waiting for? Get in the car," Mr. Weasley said, ushering Chris to get in first.
At that point, Kyle realized it was too late to object, so with a resigned sigh, he climbed into the car, followed by the rest of the Weasley family.
The inside of the car had been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, so despite squeezing in nine people and a hefty amount of luggage, it didn't feel cramped at all. Mr. Weasley, a skilled driver, kept the ride smooth, with no noticeable bumps, sudden braking, or awkward starts—certainly better than a ride on the Knight Bus.
They arrived at King's Cross Station at around ten o'clock, right on schedule. Thankfully, Kyle's earlier fears didn't come true; in fact, the people around them paid no attention to the old, rickety Ford. The group made their way seamlessly to the barrier between platforms 9 and 10.
Once they reached this spot, they no longer had to worry about being noticed by Muggles. A nearby Muggle-Repelling Charm ensured that ordinary people would instinctively avoid the area. Even in rare instances when something unusual did catch a Muggle's eye, members of the Ministry of Magic stationed nearby would handle it swiftly. It was a very secure process.
Under Mrs. Weasley's guidance, the group lined up and, one by one, passed through the seemingly solid barrier, emerging on the other side at Platform 9¾. The platform was bustling with life, much busier than the area outside. Next to it stood a dark red steam train, proudly displaying a sign that read: Hogwarts Express.
"Looks like I'm not late after all," came a gentle voice from behind Kyle.
Hearing the familiar tone, Kyle spun around quickly and saw Diana smiling warmly at him.
"Mum?" Kyle exclaimed in surprise. "You had an errand to run earlier…"
"It's already taken care of," Diana replied, kneeling down to straighten his clothes. "Today is your first day at school. I wouldn't miss such an important day for anything."
"That's great," Kyle beamed. It would have been a real shame if only Chris had been there to see him off to Hogwarts.
Diana spent a few more minutes chatting with Kyle, making sure he was ready. She didn't let him board the train until it was almost time for it to depart. Just before he left, she said, "I'm sure Chris has given you the full Hogwarts lecture, so I won't repeat it."
Diana's deep blue eyes locked onto Kyle's, and her tone became serious. "Dear, your father and I graduated a long time ago, and we don't want to relive our school days by hearing from your professors—especially Dumbledore. So, please, no letters from Hogwarts, okay?"
"Don't worry, Mom," Kyle grinned. "I'll follow the rules, there's no reason for them to send any letters to the family."
"Of course, dear," Diana replied, kissing Kyle lightly on the cheek and watching him step onto the train. "And don't forget to let us know which house you're sorted into."
"I won't," Kyle nodded before boarding the train.
A few minutes later, the train slowly began to pull away from the platform. Only then did Diana finally turn her gaze away.
Not far behind her, Chris had just finished talking to a middle-aged man and walked over to her.
"Mr. Diggory showing off his son again?" Diana asked with a laugh.
It was clear that the person Chris had been speaking with was someone she knew well. Amos Diggory, like Chris, worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry of Magic. He also had a son attending Hogwarts, though his son was a year older than Kyle and in the same year as the Weasley twins. However, unlike the mischievous twins, Cedric Diggory was outstanding in every way—much like Percy Weasley had been in his early years at Hogwarts.
Amos, being a bit of a braggart, took every opportunity to boast about his son's accomplishments. If he'd only done it once or twice, people would praise him in return, but since he went on and on about it, it had become tiresome. Eventually, Amos earned a reputation as one of the more unpopular people in the Ministry, especially among parents whose children had more average achievements at Hogwarts. Many avoided him whenever possible.
If they happened to cross paths, they would quickly look away and try to avoid conversation, speaking only if absolutely necessary. When avoidance was impossible—like when trapped together in an elevator—or if they worked in the same department as Chris, they would exchange a few polite words before quickly finding an excuse to leave, never giving Amos a chance to turn the topic toward Cedric.
This time, Chris hadn't been able to dodge him.
"Cedric is very talented," Chris admitted with a weary smile. "But never mind that. Is your task really complete?"
Though Chris wasn't privy to the details of Diana's work in the Department of Mysteries, he knew that missions originating from there usually took at least a month to finish. It was hard to believe it had been wrapped up in just two days.
"Of course not," Diana said, narrowing her eyes playfully. "But my colleagues are quite laid-back. They won't make a fuss about me taking a little time off."