Kyle was naturally thrilled to have earned full marks in Potions without even taking the exam. Though it was a bit disappointing to part with Advanced Potion-Making, he’d already memorized its contents, copied his notes into a fresh book, and read it cover to cover three times. So it didn’t bother him much to hand it over to Snape.
By the third day of exam week, only two exams remained. Early that morning, Kyle made his way to the top of the North Tower for his Divination exam.
Divination had a particular trick to it: even if you hadn’t read the textbook or attended class, you could still score well if you gave Professor Trelawney a prediction that piqued her interest. Kyle leaned over the crystal ball, feigning intense concentration.
“What do you see…?” Professor Trelawney asked, eyeing him with some disapproval, clearly annoyed that he hadn’t shown up for class all semester. Perhaps a low grade will help him realize the importance of divination, she mused.
“Hmmm…” Kyle pressed his nose to the crystal ball, squinting. “I see a figure…”
“What does it look like?” Professor Trelawney encouraged softly. “Think carefully…”
“It’s tall… and has a beard…” Kyle murmured thoughtfully. “It’s… Professor Dumbledore!” he announced with certainty.
“The Headmaster?” Professor Trelawney murmured, taken aback.
“Yes, it was Professor Dumbledore,” Kyle whispered. “He looked worn, almost defeated, walking down a lonely street lined with houses, but no one welcomed him. People just… shut their doors.”
“Are you certain, dear?” Professor Trelawney eagerly scribbled on her parchment. “You truly saw Headmaster Dumbledore?”
“I’m sure, Professor,” Kyle replied, nodding. “He looked like an unwelcome, poisonous spider.”
“Well, my dear, that’s more than enough… remarkable! You have a true gift for prophecy,” she gushed. “But remember, my dear, Divination is a profound subject. Talent alone won’t suffice. I expect you in class next term.”
Kyle smiled and stood to leave, but suddenly, a loud, shrill voice filled the room. He turned to see Professor Trelawney sitting rigidly in her armchair, her eyes blank and unfocused. She appeared to be in a trance, her eyes rolling and her body twitching slightly. The crystal ball on the table glowed faintly, casting an eerie light over her face.
Then she spoke again in that same harsh, otherworldly tone.
“The Dark Lord lies there alone, his deepest secrets revealed. Tonight, the Dark Lord begins his journey towards death… but he will rise again… with his… most powerful… weapon…”
Professor Trelawney’s head drooped to her chest with a faint oooh, then jerked up as if nothing had happened.
“Oh, my dear boy, forgive me,” she said in a dreamy voice, blinking at him. “It’s so terribly hot up here; I must have dozed off…”
“Yes, Professor, you’re quite tired,” Kyle said with a smile. He glanced at the crystal ball on the table, an idea forming. “Professor, I suddenly see the wisdom of your teachings. To practice Divination over the break, would you mind if I borrowed this crystal ball for the holidays?”
Professor Trelawney seemed confused but eventually nodded. “If it’s only a loan… well, yes, but do return it. Crystal balls are rather costly.”
“No problem at all, Professor,” Kyle assured her. “I’ll bring it back next term, good as new.”
As Kyle descended the tower, he kept glancing at the crystal ball in his hands, contemplating the prophecy he’d just witnessed. Professor Trelawney had clearly delivered a genuine prophecy, and the crystal ball had recorded every word. But what exactly did it mean?
The Dark Lord’s greatest secret was likely the Horcruxes, which made sense—destroying the diary had marked the beginning of his downfall. But what could his “most powerful weapon” be? Kyle considered many possibilities but ultimately put the crystal ball away after a few minutes.
Prophecies are meant to be heard, but not taken too seriously, he reminded himself. Voldemort’s downfall had started because he’d believed in one too strongly. And that was a lesson worth remembering.
In the afternoon, Kyle completed his final exam in History of Magic on the third floor. Around him, students were chatting and laughing, relishing their newfound freedom as they headed off to celebrate. Kyle, too, was on his way to visit Hagrid when he was suddenly stopped.
“Kyle… do you have a moment?”
It was Professor Lockhart, lingering in the doorway to his office.
“Yes, Professor?” Kyle asked.
“Oh, nothing much, just something I’m curious about,” Lockhart replied, gesturing for Kyle to enter. “Come on in. It won’t take long.”
“Alright,” Kyle agreed with a nod.
The office was lined with framed photos, all bearing Lockhart’s face, with some even featuring his signature. A stack of photographs lay on the table, scattered alongside various quills and ink bottles.
“Sit down,” Lockhart said, indicating a plush chair across from him. “Would you care for a drink? Tea? Or perhaps… Firewhiskey? Not that I endorse it, but a little Firewhiskey never hurt anyone—provided, of course, no one finds out.”
“No need, Professor. I’m fine.” Kyle tapped the table three times with his fingers and called out, “Lemonade.”
He’d picked up this trick from Dumbledore as a way to communicate with the kitchen, and soon a large glass of lemonade appeared before him.
“Oh!” Lockhart’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s quite impressive,” he remarked. “I dare say, no young wizard of your age could top that.”
“It’s just a small spell to summon refreshments from the kitchen,” Kyle replied. “You could teach it in class, Professor.”
Lockhart laughed, flashing his gleaming teeth. “Of course, I knew that right away when I first came here,” he said, though there was a hint of forced confidence. “The Firewhiskey here is a touch weak, but a change every so often doesn’t hurt.”
Kyle chose not to point out that the kitchen didn’t serve Firewhiskey at all. “So, Professor, what did you want to discuss?”
“Ah, yes! The important matter,” Lockhart said, settling into the chair opposite Kyle. “I wanted to hear all about your experience in the Chamber of Secrets. I plan to feature it in my upcoming book!”
Kyle raised an eyebrow.
“Imagine it!” Lockhart went on, eyes alight with excitement. “You, finding the Chamber of Secrets, encountering the Founders themselves—figures from a thousand years ago, right here at Hogwarts! This could be my finest work, Kyle. Our names will be celebrated throughout the wizarding world!”
“Wait… you mean I’ll actually be in the book?” Kyle asked, surprised.
“Absolutely! You’re the central character,” Lockhart whispered, as if sharing a great secret.
Kyle frowned. “But I already told you everything in the Headmaster’s Office. You were there.”
“Yes, yes, but I want details,” Lockhart insisted. “These are essential elements! Now, let’s do this—I'll ask questions, and you give me the most vivid answers you can.”
“Alright…” Kyle agreed cautiously.
Lockhart beamed. “Perfect! First question: what did you feel when you first discovered the Chamber of Secrets?”
“Um… disbelief. I was shocked,” Kyle answered after a moment’s thought.
“Good, good!” Lockhart scribbled in his notebook. “And your reaction upon seeing the Basilisk?”
Kyle stifled a sigh. “Unbelievable. I was shocked…”
“And when you encountered the Founders?”
“Hmm, let’s try a different word.”
“Fine… I was surprised.”