The headmaster's office was so quiet that the faintest sound would have been deafening. Dumbledore studied Kyle, hesitant, holding back his words several times. Initially, he'd assumed Kyle planned to use the Basilisk to destroy the locket, so he hadn't pressed the issue. But after hearing from Newt that Kyle hadn't visited the Basilisk during the holidays—and from Kyle's own words indicating that the locket remained intact—Dumbledore realized there was more to the story.
With a light tap of his fingers on the desk, he finally broke the silence. "You've certainly given me a difficult puzzle, Kyle. Can you assure me that this... item won't affect you?"
"I can, Professor," Kyle said firmly. "The Slytherin Pendant is unique. As long as it remains unopened, it's completely harmless, even if someone wears it around their neck."
At the mention of the name "Slytherin Pendant," Dumbledore's mouth twitched slightly. Kyle had handed over the original diary Horcrux without any reluctance, even passing it off to Lucius Malfoy without a second thought. But this locket... Kyle guarded it closely, even avoiding showing it to Dumbledore. Dumbledore knew exactly why: the locket held a distinct historical prestige, as revered as the Gryffindor sword.
After a moment's pause, Dumbledore sighed. "Very well. I can allow it, but I must insist you destroy it as soon as possible. And remember, Kyle, no treasure—no matter how precious—retains its worth once tainted by dark magic. It's not worth risking your life for."
"I understand," Kyle replied with a smile. In truth, he had no intention of using the locket before Voldemort's Horcruxes were all destroyed. Like the Diadem, the locket was locked safely away.
But then, a thought struck him, and he glanced at Dumbledore. "Professor, how about we set a contract magic?"
Dumbledore looked at him with curiosity. "A contract magic?"
"It's a type of binding spell," Kyle explained. "For example, if I ever get the notion to use a Horcrux, the magic would prevent me from acting on it. I think you're familiar with this kind of spell."
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "I am familiar with a few such enchantments. But truly, Kyle, I trust you, just as I trust myself."
"Still, it would give me peace of mind," Kyle said, smiling. "Think of it as a safeguard—for me. If a Horcrux were to ever sway me, it might just save my life."
Dumbledore considered Kyle's point. The mysterious nature of Horcruxes held even him at a disadvantage; an extra layer of protection could indeed prove wise.
"If you're certain... then let's proceed. Ready your wand."
Kyle took out his wand and extended his arm, as Dumbledore directed. Standing before him, Dumbledore did the same, and they pressed the tips of their wands together.
"Just a moment, Professor," Kyle said suddenly.
Dumbledore paused, sensing hesitation. "Is something wrong? If you've changed your mind, we can stop here."
"No, nothing like that," Kyle replied. "It's just... since it's a contract spell, shouldn't both parties uphold a fair bargain?"
Dumbledore blinked, momentarily surprised. But he quickly regained his composure, smiling with interest. "You're absolutely right. I fully agree."
"So you'd be open to a two-way contract?" Kyle pressed.
"Certainly," Dumbledore replied with a chuckle, "I've no intention of meddling with a Horcrux myself, so a mutual spell is quite acceptable."
He held out his wand again. "Prepare yourself, then. Don't resist."
The two wands touched once more, and Dumbledore began a long, intricate incantation, weaving the terms of the contract. His words were soft and rhythmic, as though setting the magical conditions with care. After a few minutes, as he completed the spell, a fine golden thread shimmered where their wands met. The thread divided, winding down each wand and along their wrists, forming delicate, bracelet-like bands.
Kyle felt a brief, intense heat on his wrist, but it faded as quickly as it came. He looked down to see a circle of tiny runes glowing in golden light. They vanished before he could make out their meaning.
"There," Dumbledore said with a satisfied smile, "this won't affect you in any noticeable way. And if ever you wish to remove it, you're welcome to come to me."
"I can't remove it myself? With a Finite Incantatem?"
"No," Dumbledore explained, "contract magic is more complex. Both the activation and the removal require the presence of all parties involved."
Kyle nodded, glancing down at his wrist one more time.
"I know I may be repeating myself," Dumbledore continued, putting his wand away, "but please remember to destroy the locket as soon as possible. I may be able to help repair any damage done to the Slytherin Pendant itself—assuming, of course, that you don't employ something as extreme as the Fiendfyre Curse."
"I'll do my best," Kyle assured him, though he didn't mention a specific timeline. That, after all, depended on the return of Nicolas Flamel—or if he hadn't, indeed, vanished with the Diadem.
At that moment, Kyle caught a whiff of roasted meat, and he turned to see that a full, delectable spread had appeared on a table behind Dumbledore.
"Oh! Honey-glazed pork chops—my favorite," Dumbledore exclaimed delightedly. "Shall I have the house-elves prepare a plate for you as well? Or would you prefer to dine with your friends in the Great Hall?"
"No, thank you, Professor," Kyle said with a grin, backing toward the door. "I'll just join everyone in the Great Hall." He turned and quickly made his way out.
Dumbledore settled down at the table, though his thoughts drifted back to the Slytherin locket. The alchemist in him couldn't resist the allure of such a historical artifact, a relic linked to Salazar Slytherin himself.
No, he thought, I must find a way to... "borrow" it for a few days. But what pretext should I use? Kyle's far too perceptive...
Dumbledore gazed at the honey-glazed pork chop on his plate, deep in thought. Perhaps... an exchange involving one of Fawkes's feathers?
At that moment, Fawkes, perched on a nearby branch, stirred from his nap, fluffing his feathers and casting a wary eye around the room as though he sensed himself being discussed.