When Hagrid noticed Kyle in his Quidditch uniform, he suddenly remembered that today was the match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin. But the game had started a long time ago. Since Kyle was one of the team's Chasers, this meant...
"I'm sorry, Kyle," Hagrid said apologetically. "It's my fault you missed the match!"
"It's alright..." Kyle waved his hand dismissively. "As long as Norbert stays hidden, we're already more than 300 points ahead of second place. Winning or losing today doesn't really matter, so I'll just treat it like a day off."
…
The two made their way toward the Quidditch Pitch, Hagrid following behind Kyle. Due to some inexplicable stroke of fate—something that even magic couldn't account for—by the time they arrived, the match had just ended.
Kyle looked up at the scoreboard.
170:70.
Hufflepuff had won!
Though the absence of Kyle weakened their offense, and Harris struggled to keep up against Slytherin, they still had Cedric. As Kyle walked through the tunnel onto the field, he saw Cedric standing tall, arms raised high, his fingers clutching the Snitch, which gleamed golden in the sunlight.
A roar of cheers erupted from the stands, celebrating Hufflepuff's early-season victory. Five hundred and sixty points—a mountain of a lead over Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Almost impossible to overcome. Unless they cheated.
Hagrid joined the crowd, cheering heartily. It felt great to see Hufflepuff victorious.
Kyle headed alone to the changing rooms. He was already bracing himself to explain his absence, but no one even questioned him. His teammates simply greeted him with a few friendly shoulder taps, treating him as if he'd been there the whole time.
"Don't worry about it," Harris leaned over and whispered, "We know you've got more important things going on!"
Then he chuckled. "Cheer up—we won!"
"Exactly," Farrell added with a grin. "Unless Gryffindor and Ravenclaw score forty goals in the next match, we're almost certain to win the championship again this year!"
The game was seen as the last celebration before exams started. That night, the festivities in the Hufflepuff common room lasted until midnight. Harris, who had previously bragged about being able to drink a thousand Butterbeers without getting drunk, collapsed onto the table after his third bottle.
Several senior Quidditch players quietly got up and, with practiced ease, carried him back to the dormitory.
Kyle watched, baffled. "What happened to him?"
"Oh, he's drunk," Farrell said calmly.
"You can get drunk on Butterbeer?" Kyle asked in disbelief. "There's real beer in it, then?"
He had always thought it was a drink like hot cocoa.
"Yes, but the beer is boiled to add just a bit of flavor."
At this, a first-year with pigtails piped up, "My family makes Butterbeer, and I've seen them do it!"
"Exactly," Farrell replied with a laugh. "So if someone can't hold their drink, even Butterbeer will knock them out—like Harris, who can only manage two bottles before he's done for."
"I remember his first trip to Hogsmeade in third year," Farrell continued, chuckling. "He fell asleep right there at The Three Broomsticks. Madam Rosmerta thought something was wrong with her Butterbeer!"
Kyle laughed. Who knew you could get drunk on boiled beer? Isn't pumpkin juice good enough?
Once Harris was carried off, the party quickly wound down, and everyone drifted back to their dormitories.
...
After the revelry, what awaited everyone was endless revision. As exams drew closer, tension in the castle grew thick. There was no time to think about Quidditch, and students were seen everywhere, noses buried in their books. The atmosphere at Hogwarts was more intense than ever.
Even Harry and Ron set aside their investigation of Snape and followed Hermione to the library, where they buckled down and studied hard. However, while Hermione was meticulously reviewing the material, Harry and Ron were merely skimming through the basics.
In this tense environment, exam week soon arrived.
For Kyle, the second-year exams posed little challenge. He finished the written exam in just ten minutes. But Professor McGonagall wouldn't let him hand in his paper early, insisting it might tempt him to share answers with others.
This year, Professor McGonagall was especially sour—once again, she'd been assigned to supervise the lower-year exams rather than the senior ones. She silently cursed Dumbledore for this unwelcome duty. As she looked around the room, her disappointment deepened. The students were almost unnervingly well-behaved. Only five magical cheating devices had been confiscated before the exam, barely half the haul of last year.
With nothing else to do, she wandered over and began to look at Kyle's paper. Observing her serious expression and the way she occasionally shook her head, several students glanced at each other, wondering if Kyle had done poorly on the test. The classroom buzzed with mixed reactions—some students looked anxious, others disappointed, and a few seemed quietly thrilled.
Kyle, for his part, was completely unfazed, mostly because he couldn't see Professor McGonagall's expression from where he was sitting.
Once the written exams were over, the practical portion proved much more entertaining. For Charms, Professor Flitwick enchanted a pineapple, challenging the students to identify the charm and restore the pineapple to its original state.
When it was Kyle's turn, the challenge took a twist. The enchanted pineapple suddenly sprouted legs, leapt off the table, and began scampering across the floor.
"You have three attempts," Professor Flitwick said with a grin, "but you must stay in one spot."
The pineapple was impressively nimble, darting in different directions every time Kyle raised his wand and tried to cast. After two failed attempts, Kyle looked over at Professor Flitwick, clearly suspecting him of some mischief.
Professor Flitwick simply smiled back, looking innocent as ever. "Only one chance left…"
Kyle sighed, taking a deep breath as an orange light began to glow from the tip of his wand.
"Wait, wait…" Professor Flitwick's eyes widened, and he quickly stopped him. "The Transfiguration exams are happening in the next room, and this spell might affect the others."
"What about my exam…?"
"You passed," Professor Flitwick said, smiling warmly.
In truth, he'd already given Kyle full marks from the start and had only been stirring up some harmless fun.