Before the Start of School

In the days that followed, Kyle lived a very fulfilling life, holing himself up in his room every day to experiment with various spells.

Don't let the fact that he came from a wizarding family fool you; before starting school, his opportunities to cast magic were few and far between—one could even say they were practically non-existent.

First of all, whether it was Chris or Diana, their wands were items of extreme importance to them; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call them a second life, so they certainly couldn't just toss them to Kyle to play with.

He was only allowed to hold them for a thrill during Christmas or on his birthday each year.

Of course, Kyle knew his limits, and he only ever cast spells like the Lumos charm or the Unlocking charm—spells that wouldn't have any side effects on the wand even if he failed.

Another factor was wand compatibility.

Even though he was the son of Chris and Diana, their wands gave Kyle absolutely no face; the sense of rejection was incredibly obvious.

Diana's wand, in particular, was no different from an ordinary stick in Kyle's hands; no matter how much he chanted, he couldn't get the slightest reaction.

That was why Kyle had spent most of his time dealing with Quidditch, Herbology, and magical creatures, rarely coming into real contact with spellcasting.

After waiting bitterly for eleven years, he finally had his own wand, so he naturally had to let loose.

Chris didn't object to this, and he would occasionally offer pointers with great enthusiasm, enjoying the thrill of being a teacher.

As a result, different spells were flickering in Kyle's room almost every single moment.

It was fine for the first few days, as Kyle was only practicing basic charms that wouldn't affect anyone else.

But as time went on and the number of spells Kyle mastered grew, problems began to arise.

At the dining table in the living room, Chris, who was sipping black tea, watched helplessly as the teacup placed opposite him suddenly lifted off the table and began to drift lazily toward the upper floor.

However, Chris seemed long accustomed to this; he calmly pressed the teacup back onto the table and tapped it lightly with his wand.

Only after doing this did he look up and shout, "Kyle, when you cast the Summoning Charm, you must fix your target firmly in your mind. Also, I suggest you start by summoning a quill, or perhaps parchment—at least those won't break if they fall."

"Got it, Dad."

Kyle responded, though whether he actually listened, Chris didn't know; he suspected it was highly unlikely.

After all, situations like today's had played out several times already, and he had cast more Mending Charms in a single day than in the past ten years combined. Because of this, he had been forced to cast Anti-Summoning Charms on every fragile item in the house.

"Whoosh..."

Just as he was thinking this, a piece of bread flew rapidly over his head and "splatted" against the ceiling.

"..."

One had to admit, judging purely by the results, Kyle's progress was significant; at the very least, the speed of his Summoning Charm was much faster than last time.

"Sigh!"

Chris sighed, waved his wand with a calm expression to send the bread back to the kitchen, and inwardly marveled at Diana's wisdom and foresight.

It was thanks to her that she had confiscated Kyle's cauldron on the very first day, or else there was no telling what this house would look like now.

An eleven-year-old wizard was notoriously troublesome—the Weasleys next door were proof of that, and his own home was no exception.

Fortunately, these days were coming to an end; Hogwarts started tomorrow.

That was truly good news!

Chris picked up his black tea and took a satisfied sip.

Time quickly reached the evening.

Diana had not returned due to a mission.

Chris, who was completely clueless about cooking, gladly accepted Mrs. Weasley's warm invitation and brought Kyle and some prepped ingredients to The Burrow nearby for a free meal.

His behavior, unsurprisingly, drew the ire of Mrs. Weasley, who insisted that bringing ingredients when visiting was improper and showed a lack of trust in their friendship, launching into a lecture directed at him.

Chris didn't argue back; he simply tossed the items into the kitchen and laughed along with her.

As for Kyle, he had already naturally blended in with the Weasley children.

He was long used to this scene.

Their family didn't have a house-elf, so whenever Diana couldn't return from a mission, the two of them would come to the Weasleys' to mooch a meal.

And this scene before him was a regular occurrence, a fixed program whenever they visited.

In the open space not far away, Kyle was helping a few of the Weasleys clear out gnomes.

"Clearing out" was just a name for it; in reality, they were playing.

One person would grab a gnome by its legs and toss it into the sky, while another would hold a wooden club and bat the gnome away just like a Bludger. The one who hit it the farthest would win the game and receive the first-place prize: a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

At first, Chris didn't support this game, believing that just tossing the gnomes away was enough and there was no need for a bat.

That was until the day he discovered that the Cloak-grass he had painstakingly cultivated for a year, which was just about to mature, had been completely dug up and ruined by these gnomes; after that, he never stopped Kyle again.

In fact, on Christmas a few days later, he even gifted Kyle a well-crafted bat, which featured the signature of a Wimbourne Wasps Beater.

The bat was very comfortable to use, and the feel when striking was excellent; to date, it had helped Kyle win the championship five times in a row.

Today was no exception.

"This isn't fair."

Looking at Kyle's autographed bat and then at the random wooden stick in his own hand, Ron said with a bitter face, "The gap in equipment is just too big."

"It's not that exaggerated. Equipment and such are secondary; what matters is having the conviction to win in your heart. I can win not because my equipment is good, but simply because I want to win more than you do."

Kyle said with a calm expression, tossing a red bean over as he spoke: "Besides, Ron, before you complain about equipment, you should at least beat Ginny. The wooden stick she's using is much smaller than yours."

There were five people participating in the game, and Ron had come in last; even Ginny's distance was several meters further than his.

As soon as Kyle finished speaking, Ron's face flushed bright red. Losing to his own sister in this regard was indeed not a glorious thing.

However, his attention was quickly drawn to the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans that Kyle had tossed him.

Bright red, it looked quite lovely, and as for the taste... it was raspberry!

Sure enough, the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans that Kyle gave out were never anything but delicious.

The sweet sensation in his mouth made Ron narrow his eyes involuntarily, while a trace of envy couldn't help but rise in his heart. He really didn't know how Kyle managed it, being able to pick out the best-tasting Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans every single time.

He, on the other hand, was hopeless; every time it was either liver, spinach, or he had even once eaten one that tasted like dragon dung.

That stench mixed with the flavor of fermented, rotten berries was simply invincible; just thinking about it made Ron's stomach churn.