As expected, by the end of Friday's potions lesson, Kanna had finally managed to secure the bottle of Felix Felicis.
Her Polyjuice Potion was nearly flawless, so much so that even Slughorn couldn't find a single fault with it. Kyle's potion was also impressive, but when compared to Kanna's, his brew was slightly darker in color. This was due to his adding the Boomslang skin a little later in the process—a timing issue that didn't affect the potion's efficacy. If not for Kanna, Kyle would have taken first place.
To be honest, though, neither Kanna nor Kyle seemed particularly interested in the Felix Felicis that Slughorn had offered as a reward. Both already had access to the elusive potion.
Kanna didn't need to say much about it; if she ever wanted some, Snape would undoubtedly supply her without hesitation. As for Kyle, his rapport with Director Sykes of St. Mungo's and the Basilisk materials he had previously provided made acquiring Felix Felicis a trivial matter for him.
The reward, while nice to have, wasn't something either of them truly cared about. Winning it was a pleasant bonus, but losing out on it wouldn't have mattered to them in the slightest.
More importantly, Kyle had been keeping his distance from things like Felix Felicis ever since wearing Ravenclaw's Diadem. The overwhelming sensation of being in control was dangerously alluring, and Kyle feared he might not be able to resist the temptation if he allowed himself to indulge too often.
For now, everything was just as it should be.
...
On the first weekend of the new school year, a misty drizzle began to fall from the sky. The air was chilly, but that didn't stop the Quidditch pitch from being crowded with people—after all, it was the day for selecting new players for the team.
Beyond those eager to join, many others came to watch, either for entertainment or to gather intelligence for their own house teams. It was an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.
Since it was Gryffindor's turn in the morning, Kyle decided against heading to the pitch. Instead, he strolled through the damp grounds with Kanna, making his way toward Hagrid's hut. For the past couple of days, Hagrid had seemed out of sorts—grumpy, with a perpetual frown—and he hadn't even been eating in the Great Hall. With the weekend offering a bit of free time, Kyle figured he'd check in and see what was going on.
When they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, they found Hagrid standing by his pumpkin patch, absently watering the massive pumpkins that would soon decorate the castle for Halloween. The pumpkins, each the size of a wheelbarrow, gleamed wetly in the drizzle, but Hagrid didn't seem to notice. Instead, he was repeatedly soaking the same pumpkin until a puddle formed at its base, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.
"Hagrid, if you don't get serious, we'll have to buy pumpkins for Halloween," Kyle called out.
Startled, Hagrid snapped out of his daze. "Oh, it's Kyle—and Kanna," he greeted them, still holding the bucket.
"Hello," Kyle said, stepping closer. Without hesitation, he asked, "What's been bothering you lately?"
"I'm fine..." Hagrid replied, though his shifty eyes and evasive tone said otherwise. He took a few steps toward another pumpkin, attempting to continue his watering.
"Come on, Hagrid. You're a terrible liar, and we both know it," Kyle said bluntly. "Besides, if nothing was wrong, why would you be out here watering pumpkins in the rain?"
Rain?
It was only then that Hagrid seemed to notice the wet strands of hair plastered to his head. "Oh, why didn't you tell me earlier?" he exclaimed, hurriedly putting down the bucket and attempting to scoop the puddles away with his hands.
"Does it really need to be mentioned that it's raining?" Kyle muttered under his breath.
Still, seeing Hagrid so flustered, Kyle pulled out his wand. With a quick flick, he siphoned away the excess water from the pumpkin patch. While he didn't think the effort was particularly necessary, he knew Hagrid well enough to trust that he must have his reasons for being so meticulous. With that in mind, Kyle silently lent a hand.
...
"Tell me, what's going on?" Kyle pressed again as they stepped into Hagrid's hut. "What's been bothering you lately?"
"I don't know..." Hagrid mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe it was a mistake for Dumbledore to make me the Care of Magical Creatures professor."
"Why do you think that?" Kanna asked, her tone gentle but curious.
"Only five people chose my advanced classes this year," Hagrid replied, sounding as though he were announcing a great personal failure.
"Five?" Kanna repeated, incredulous. That number meant, on average, only one student from each house had opted for the class—shockingly low attendance. Even Divination, often mocked for its vagueness, had far more students enrolled.
"Hagrid, did you make the class requirements too strict?" Kanna asked.
"If requiring an 'A' in OWLs is strict..." Hagrid sighed heavily.
Kyle didn't reply. An 'A'—Acceptable—was the minimum grade required for advanced classes, and lowering it wasn't an option.
"Are Harry and the others among those five?" Kyle asked tentatively.
"Harry, Hermione, and Ron," Hagrid admitted with a small, bittersweet smile. "All three of 'em chose my class." But his face quickly fell again. "That just leaves two others. And those two probably only signed up because there weren't any other options left."
Hearing this, Hagrid's voice trembled. "Dumbledore must've made a mistake trusting me with this job!"
"Well... that's not entirely true..." Kyle stammered, unsure how to console him. He knew part of the problem was his own fault. If he hadn't convinced Hagrid to stop bringing Blast-Ended Skrewts into class, the turnout might have been even worse. Those creatures, while terrifying, at least sparked curiosity.
Kyle glanced at Kanna for help, but she merely shrugged and averted her gaze, leaving him to navigate the conversation on his own.
"Don't be discouraged, Hagrid," Kyle said, trying to muster enthusiasm. "I think it's more about students not understanding the importance of Magical Creatures."
"But when Professor Kettleburn was here, loads of people chose his advanced classes," Hagrid said, pulling out a handkerchief to dab at his eyes. "Thanks for tryin', Kyle, but I know the truth."
"No," Kyle said firmly, shaking his head. Suddenly, an idea struck him. "Hagrid, think about what's different this year compared to previous years."
"Different? What d'you mean?" Hagrid asked, still confused.
"You-Know-Who," Kyle explained. "This year, the Ministry of Magic officially announced his return. When students picked their classes, they probably prioritized ones that could improve their strength in combat, which is why they overlooked Care of Magical Creatures."
"Is that so?" Hagrid asked, his voice softening slightly, though doubt lingered in his expression.
"Absolutely," Kyle said with conviction. "Last year, you had nearly twenty students in your class. How could it suddenly be about you not being good enough?"
"But..." Hagrid began, still hesitant. "Magical Creatures can be important too! Didn't Dumbledore use Fluffy to guard the Philosopher's Stone? How can it not help them?"
"Because you can't exactly bring a Three-Headed Dog to class," Kyle replied matter-of-factly. "Think about the creatures they've been learning about: Bowtruckles, Fairies, Nifflers. Sure, there are Unicorns and Salamanders, but none of those are exactly practical for fighting Death Eaters."
Hagrid seemed to be considering this argument. Kyle and Kanna exchanged glances, both realizing that the reasoning might actually be valid. Last year's higher enrollment was no coincidence—the only major change since then had been Voldemort's resurgence.
Divination, while often derided, at least offered students the comfort of foresight, however vague. Meanwhile, Care of Magical Creatures was limited by strict regulations, only allowing the study of creatures ranked XXX or below before fifth year. Most wizards also relied on their wands, rarely carrying magical creatures with them.
"That's their loss, Hagrid," Kanna chimed in, her voice steady.
"Exactly," Kyle added with a nod. "They'll regret missing out someday."
"Yeah," Hagrid said, finally sounding more confident. "Abandon Care of Magical Creatures? They'll never know what they're missin'! I've decided—I'll show these five students somethin' truly special."
"Something special?" Kyle asked cautiously. A sudden thought struck him. "Wait, Hagrid, you're not planning to bring Fluffy to class, are you?"
Given Hagrid's history, it wasn't an entirely far-fetched concern. Worse yet, Kyle hadn't yet returned Fluffy to the Forbidden Forest after taking him out for... extracurricular reasons. If Hagrid found out, it would be difficult to explain.
"No, no," Hagrid assured him, shaking his head. "Haven't seen Fluffy since he settled into the Forbidden Forest. And Dumbledore wouldn't allow somethin' so dangerous in class."
Kyle exhaled in relief. "So, what are you planning?"
"I'm going to show them Thestrals in the first lesson."
"Thestrals?" Kyle asked, momentarily puzzled. If he remembered correctly, they had already studied Thestrals around this time last year. Even Umbridge had attended that lesson. What could be different?
Noticing Kyle's confusion, Hagrid explained, "This year, I'm not just lettin' them watch from a distance. I'm gonna let 'em touch the Thestrals—really get to know 'em up close. And I'll teach them how to ride 'em!"
"If they ever run into trouble at Hogwarts, they'll know how to find the Forbidden Forest and get help from the Thestrals straight away!" Hagrid declared, clenching his fist with confidence.
...
"Kyle, do you think Hagrid will succeed?" Kanna asked as they made their way back to the castle.
"I don't know," Kyle replied with a shrug. "To be honest, Hagrid's idea isn't a bad one, but he's not exactly great at planning."
Kanna couldn't help but laugh. "If Hagrid hears that, he'll definitely be angry."
"That's why I didn't say it," Kyle remarked, glancing behind them. "This is Hogwarts. If students are resorting to the Forbidden Forest for help, it means the Death Eaters have completely taken over the school."
"Instead of running to the Forbidden Forest, they'd be better off heading to the broom closet and grabbing a broomstick."
"And not everyone can see Thestrals," Kanna added thoughtfully, realizing the truth of Kyle's observation. Hagrid's plan, while well-meaning, seemed to lack practicality.
"Forget it. As long as it cheers Hagrid up," Kyle said with a wave of his hand, dismissing the subject. He wasn't aiming to make the Care of Magical Creatures class particularly meaningful—it wasn't realistic. His goal was simply to keep Hagrid occupied and distracted from the fact that only five students had signed up for his advanced class.
...
When they reached the castle gates, the Gryffindor Quidditch team was heading back from the pitch.
"Hey, Kyle!" Harry called out, waving as he approached. "By the way, I haven't thanked you yet."
"For what?" Kyle asked, confused.
"For getting us the Potions book, of course," Harry said. "Professor Slughorn insisted I take his class, and I'd have been lost without it. Did you know he'd be teaching Potions?"
"It's no big deal," Kyle replied casually. "Slughorn's one of the most famous Master Potioneers, and he's great at keeping a low profile. He'd never take on Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"You could've told me earlier," Harry muttered. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have taken Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Kyle chuckled but didn't respond, letting the comment pass as they continued into the castle.
"Kyle, hey, Kyle!"
Kyle turned to see Susan Bones rushing toward him, holding a roll of parchment.
"This is for you," she said, thrusting the parchment into his hand and catching her breath. "And… have you heard? About Hannah?"
"Yes, I've heard," Kyle replied, nodding gravely.
On the third day of term, Death Eaters had attacked several locations, resulting in numerous deaths, including Hannah Abbott's family. She hadn't been seen at school since.
"I just hope she can hold on," Susan said worriedly. "I don't think it's safe for her to go home. Right now, there's nowhere safer than Hogwarts."
"Yeah," Kyle agreed quietly.
Once Susan had left, Kyle unrolled the parchment. Scrawled across it in slightly crooked writing was a brief message:
Dear Kyle,
Please come to my office after lunch. I hope your first day went well.
Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
P.S. The password is Acid Pops.
...
"Headmaster Dumbledore wants to see you?" Kanna said, leaning over Kyle's shoulder to read the letter. "It can't be anything dangerous."
"Who knows," Kyle replied with a shrug, folding the parchment and slipping it into his pocket. He continued toward the Great Hall, his pace unhurried.
The letter specified after lunch, so there was no need to rush.
...
Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's office on the eighth floor, the atmosphere was tense. Dumbledore sat calmly behind his desk, while Snape stood before him, his expression as dark as a thundercloud.
"So this is your plan, is it?" Snape said in a detached tone, his voice laced with barely restrained frustration. "To have Harry or Kyle extract the secret buried in Slughorn's mind?"
"We must know how many Horcruxes Tom has actually created," Dumbledore replied, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the polished surface of the desk. "You know, Severus, it's really not as dangerous as you think."
"Not dangerous?" Snape's voice rose sharply, betraying his agitation. "Slughorn has been hiding this secret for years. Since the Dark Lord's return, he hasn't stayed in one place for more than three months, hopping between abandoned Muggle houses like a fugitive. And you call this 'not dangerous'?"
Dumbledore was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on Snape with a faint, knowing smile. "I must say, Severus, I'm surprised by your concern for Kyle."
"Don't be absurd," Snape snapped, glaring at him. "You know perfectly well who I'm referring to."
"Yes, I do," Dumbledore said softly. "This guilt has tormented you for sixteen years, ever since Lily—"
"Don't say that name!" Snape growled, his voice reverberating through the office. Even Fawkes stirred on his perch, flapping his wings in annoyance.
Phineas Nigellus Black, from his portrait, opened one eye, muttered something under his breath, and promptly pretended to fall back asleep.
Dumbledore, unfazed, rubbed the ring on his finger thoughtfully. "Do you wish to see her again, Severus? To ask for her forgiveness?"
Snape's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Are you mocking me, Dumbledore? She's dead. How could I possibly see her again... Wait..."
His gaze fell on the ring Dumbledore wore, his expression shifting from anger to astonishment. "That's..."
"Yes," Dumbledore said, holding his hand out so Snape could see more clearly. "It is the same artifact we found in the Gaunt Shack."
"But... wasn't it cursed?" Snape asked, his voice quieter now, tinged with disbelief.
"The curse has been lifted," Dumbledore replied, slipping the ring off and placing it on the table between them. "Perhaps you didn't notice, Severus, but I wore it at the Start-of-Term Feast."
Snape's breath hitched. The Resurrection Stone.
The implications of what lay before him swirled in his mind. With this object, he could summon Lily's spirit, see her, speak to her, and... apologize.
Compelled by an almost magnetic force, Snape began walking toward the table. But as he approached, his steps grew heavier, his movements increasingly labored.
When he reached the table, close enough to touch the Resurrection Stone, he froze. His outstretched hand trembled, but he couldn't bring himself to take the final step.
He was afraid.
What if Lily looked at him with disappointment? Or worse—hatred? What if she refused to forgive him? The memory of his betrayal, delivering half the prophecy to Voldemort and dooming the Potters, loomed over him. For over a decade, he had devoted himself to atonement, trying to erase the stain of that sin.
To use the Resurrection Stone would mean tearing open a scar he had tried so hard to bury.
Snape's face twisted in anguish as he stared at the stone, then abruptly he staggered backward, crashing into a table and sending silver instruments clattering to the floor.
"Take it away!" he shouted, his voice raw and hysterical. "Get it away from me!"
Dumbledore's expression didn't shift; it was as though he had anticipated this reaction. Gently, he picked up the ring and slipped it back onto his hand. "Severus," he said quietly, "sometimes, we all need a little extra courage. Reopening a scar may be painful, but it also gives it a chance to heal."
"Shut up, Dumbledore, just shut up!" Snape gasped, his voice trembling with unspent emotion.
At that moment, there was a knock on the door.
Snape straightened, gathering himself with visible effort. "I'm leaving." He strode to the door, pulling it open, and brushed past Kyle without so much as a glance.