Faced with the “threat” of two second-year students, the not-so-formidable Kyle had no choice but to verbally agree to a series of one-sided “agreements” to avoid any potential campus “bullying.”
“Remember what you promised, Kyle,” Fred said with a grin. “You’re going to be our technical support for the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products.”
“And provide storage,” George added. “We need a safe place to keep it over the holidays—somewhere Mum won’t find it.”
“Of course, I’d be happy to help,” Kyle replied with a smile. “I’ll even help you work on the products. And as for the storage… how about my room? Mrs. Weasley will never think to check there.”
“Perfect,” Fred and George nodded approvingly, relaxing their “hold” on him.
“If you ever try to double-cross us…” Fred warned with mock menace, “you won’t like the consequences!”
With that, the twins simultaneously held up a thumb and made a mock slashing motion across their necks before heading off.
Once they’d left, Kyle casually made his way to the Hufflepuff table, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.
“How was your holiday?” Cedric asked as Kyle sat down.
“Not bad,” Kyle replied, glancing at Cedric. “No early mornings, no homework—just reading, gardening, petting animals, that sort of thing. Basically, the life I’ve always dreamed of.”
Cedric sighed a little enviously. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have gone home. My dad promised to take me to France over the holidays, but he’s been so busy, working overtime almost every day. He’s barely even home for five hours at a time.”
Kyle was surprised to hear this. It didn’t add up; hadn’t Chris and Newt successfully handled the smuggled magical creatures? And he hadn’t heard of anything major happening in the wizarding world recently. In fact, the front page of The Daily Prophet had recently featured only trivial things—like that spat between Mr. Weasley and Lucius Malfoy at the Ministry of Magic. In a time of relative calm, Mr. Diggory should have had time off unless there was some kind of emergency involving magical creatures. And if there had been such an incident, surely The Daily Prophet would have reported it.
Cedric noticed Kyle’s confusion and, after a quick glance around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, leaned in and whispered, “It’s about the Swooping Evil… My dad’s been searching for signs of it.”
“Swooping Evil…” Kyle frowned, whispering back, “Didn’t that thing leave already?”
“No, the Ministry is lying,” Cedric said. “Dad had a few drinks on Christmas Day and, thinking I was one of his workmates, let slip quite a few things. He said the Ministry never actually found any evidence of the Swooping Evil’s departure.”
Kyle shook his head. “But that’s not what Newt said.”
He’d believe Newt over anyone else on matters involving magical creatures. Newt was the last person who would lie about something like that. The only conceivable reason Newt might withhold information would be if it were a serious threat to the safety of the wizarding world. And even if pressured, neither Fudge nor Dumbledore would likely ask Newt to withhold the truth—well, at least Dumbledore wouldn’t. Fudge… that might be a different story.
Unless, of course, Fudge happened to be Dumbledore’s own son.
"I asked about that too," Cedric said. "My father told me Mr. Scamander's exact words were, ‘We didn’t find any Swooping Evil; it’s probably hiding,’ but the Ministry only gave the Daily Prophet the first half of the quote and left out the second half."
"Huh?" Kyle raised an eyebrow. "To avoid panic?"
"Yes, to avoid panic," Cedric replied with a shrug. "They even found a way to get rid of Mr. Chris and Mr. Scamander, who had both always opposed this kind of thing."
Kyle rubbed his chin thoughtfully. His earlier doubts were starting to make sense now. No wonder he’d felt something off about Chris’s mission this time around. So that was the issue. After all, if it was just about transporting a few magical creatures, why would Chris and Newt both need to go?
Sure, handling creatures like the Nundu or the Antipodean Opaleye would be tough for most wizards, but for those two? It seemed excessive.
But what about the other creatures? The simple ones, that could be released in any secluded forest—or handed off to a couple of hired hunters for transport. Yet, somehow, it had to be Chris and Newt handling them.
Think about it: a deputy director from the British Ministry of Magic and a renowned magical creatures expert traveling halfway across the world... just to return an ordinary Bowtruckle to its home? That was absurd. Under normal circumstances, not even a Bowtruckle belonging to Grindelwald himself would get such treatment.
After considering this, Kyle asked, "So did your father actually find the Swooping Evil?"
"No," Cedric shook his head. "He and the others have been searching for over a month without finding a single clue. But Minister Fudge keeps pushing them and even lost his temper recently. What a jerk."
Though Cedric usually maintained a polite demeanor, he only mouthed the last word silently, demonstrating all the restraint expected of an exemplary young wizard. However, his lip movements were distinct enough that Kyle could tell Cedric was expressing his opinions about Fudge’s family line in some rather colorful language.
After indulging in that small rebellion, Cedric felt a bit better. He cast a quick glance at the staff table and said, "Anyway, never mind all that. Have you noticed that Professor Snape seems especially irritated today?"
"Really?" Kyle picked up a chicken leg, not even looking up. "Maybe it's just your imagination. He's mad every day."
"True, but..." Cedric glanced again toward the staff table. "I still think he’s even worse than usual."
On the stage, Snape indeed looked as if he’d drunk the wrong potion, his expression dark as a storm cloud. His eyes swept ominously across the four tables, narrowing slightly as if in search of some wrongdoing.
Suddenly, as if sensing Cedric’s gaze, Snape turned sharply toward the Hufflepuff table, causing Cedric to drop his head immediately. Meanwhile, Kyle calmly continued to eat his chicken leg, occasionally chatting with Mikel, who was seated on his other side.