Kyle spent the next few days productively, staying in his room and experimenting with various spells. Although he came from a wizarding family, his chances to practice magic before starting school were extremely limited.
For Chris and Diana, their wands were invaluable, almost like extensions of their lives. Naturally, they couldn't just let Kyle use them freely. He was only allowed to use their wands during Christmas or on his birthday each year.
Understanding the significance of spells, Kyle limited himself to practicing simple ones, like the Lumos (Illumination Spell) and Alohomora (Unlocking Spell), which wouldn't damage the wands if he made mistakes. However, he quickly discovered another challenge—wand compatibility.
Even as Chris and Diana's son, their wands did not cooperate with him, showing noticeable resistance. Diana's wand, in particular, was utterly unresponsive in Kyle's hands, behaving like an ordinary stick despite his efforts. Because of this, Kyle had focused more on activities like Quidditch, herbology, and magical creatures instead of spellcasting.
After waiting eleven long years, Kyle finally had his own wand, and he was eager to make the most of it. Chris had no objections and even offered guidance from time to time, enjoying his moments as a mentor.
Thus, spells were constantly being cast in Kyle's room over the next few days. Initially, he only practiced basic spells that didn't cause much disruption. But as he mastered more spells, issues began to arise.
One day, Chris, sipping tea in the living room, noticed a teacup suddenly lift from the table and float slowly upstairs. He remained calm, set the teacup back on the table with a tap of his wand, and called out, "Kyle, remember to focus on your target when you cast a Levitation Charm. Also, start with summoning lighter objects like a quill or parchment—they won't break if they fall."
"Got it, Dad," Kyle replied, though Chris suspected he hadn't really heard him. This scenario had happened numerous times already, forcing Chris to cast more repair spells in a single day than he had in the last decade. As a precaution, he enchanted all fragile items in the house to resist accidental levitation.
As he thought about this, a piece of bread suddenly whizzed over his head and stuck to the ceiling with a splat.
Chris sighed and calmly used his wand to send the bread back to the kitchen. He silently thanked Diana for her foresight—she had confiscated Kyle's cauldron on the first day. Who knew what kind of havoc might have ensued otherwise?
Raising an eleven-year-old wizard was a challenge, and the Weasleys next door were going through the same thing. Luckily, these chaotic days were almost over—Hogwarts would be starting tomorrow, which Chris considered fantastic news. He sipped his tea, satisfied with the thought.
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As evening approached, Diana was still away on a mission. Chris, who had no cooking skills, happily accepted Mrs. Weasley's invitation for dinner and brought Kyle and some ingredients to the nearby Burrow.
Mrs. Weasley, however, wasn't pleased with Chris bringing food, seeing it as a slight against their friendship, and she scolded him. Chris didn't argue and simply left the ingredients in the kitchen, smiling all the while.
Kyle, meanwhile, had quickly joined the Weasley children, fitting right in. He was accustomed to these scenes. Without house-elves at home, whenever Diana was away on a mission, he and Chris would head to the Weasley home for meals—this had become a tradition.
Not far from the house, Kyle and the Weasley kids were "cleaning up" garden gnomes, though in reality, they were just playing a game. One would grab a gnome by the legs and toss it into the air, while another would swing a stick to bat it away, as if it were a bludger. The winner, who sent the gnome the farthest, would win a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.
Initially, Chris disapproved of the game, believing it was unnecessary to use a bat when tossing out gnomes would suffice. But after a group of gnomes dug up his prized grass cloak, he relented. He even gifted Kyle a high-quality bat signed by a Wimbourne Wasps player for Christmas.
The bat worked well and felt great, helping Kyle win five consecutive championships. Today was no exception.
"That's not fair," Ron grumbled, eyeing Kyle's autographed bat and then the simple stick he had picked up. "The difference in equipment is too much."
"It's not just about the gear," Kyle replied calmly, tossing Ron a red bean. "What matters is the will to win. I win because I want it more, not just because of my bat. Besides, before you complain, maybe you should beat Ginny first. Her stick is even smaller than yours."
Ron's face reddened at the reminder—losing to his younger sister wasn't exactly a proud moment. But his embarrassment was soon forgotten when he popped the bean into his mouth and tasted raspberry.
Kyle always seemed to find the best-flavored beans, much to Ron's envy. No matter how often he tried, Ron always seemed to end up with ones that tasted like liver, spinach, or even, on one memorable occasion, dragon dung. The mere thought of that foul taste made his stomach churn.
*(End of Chapter)*
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