Dinner

A box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Kyle gave Ron one, ate one himself, and handed the rest to Ginny.

The little girl hugged the box and thought for a moment, then trotted over to Kyle, hoping he would help her pick out the flavors—or at least remove the dragon dung ones.

Kyle said he understood Ginny's request perfectly, then promptly refused.

Young people had to try new things.

Besides, what was the slogan for Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans? Every bite was a new adventure. That was what made them special.

Without the surprises, would they even be Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans? No, they would just be jelly beans.

So it wasn't that he was lazy. He was only doing what was best for Ginny.

After playing in the clearing for a while longer, Mrs. Weasley's familiar voice finally rang out from the direction of the Burrow. Dinner was ready.

Everyone, starving enough to feel their stomachs touch their backs, dropped the sticks they were holding and started walking back in groups.

Kyle led the way, with Ron right behind him. But they had barely taken two steps when the twins suddenly rushed over and shoved Ron aside.

Caught off guard, Ron nearly tumbled headfirst into a nearby gnome hole. Furious, he glared at Fred and George, looking ready to charge over and bite them if they didn't apologize.

Ron might have been serious, but unfortunately, he was never going to get the reaction he wanted. Fred and George had been focused on Kyle the whole time and hadn't even glanced at Ron, so they had no idea what he was thinking.

Besides, even if they had known, they probably wouldn't have cared. They'd bullied their little brother plenty of times before, and they knew the routine by heart.

Ron might look furious now, but as long as he didn't want to get beaten up, he wouldn't come charging at them. Then, in a few days, a little snack money saved up would be enough to make everything right.

And then they'd be the loving, respectful siblings of a happy family once more.

So for now, the most important thing was dealing with Kyle.

The twins considered what had happened on their trip to Diagon Alley the greatest stain on their lives. They'd been wanting to get even ever since, but Kyle hadn't left the house once in the past few days, giving them no chance to take their revenge.

But going to his house on purpose would look too suspicious and might make Kyle suspicious. So Fred and George had had to put their desire for revenge on hold until the right opportunity came along.

Like now.

With Chris and Kyle joining them, the room was too crowded for dinner, so Mrs. Weasley had set the table up in the yard.

As soon as Kyle habitually took his usual seat, Fred shot George a look and hurried over to sit beside him.

George had no idea what his brother was planning, but thanks to their astonishing twin telepathy, he sat down on Kyle's other side at once.

"Hmm?" Kyle was a little surprised. It was the first time he'd seen the twins sit apart.

Then he raised an eyebrow. "You two are up to something."

The twins were making it so obvious that he would have had to be incredibly slow not to notice something was up.

But since he didn't know what they were scheming, Kyle didn't make any rash moves. He carried on helping Mrs. Weasley set out the plates as if nothing were wrong.

Soft, crisp rolls, tender roasted potatoes, juicy roast chicken, golden fried chicken pieces, succulent little veal steaks...

They were all familiar dishes, but the spread was certainly generous.

Of course, Kyle hadn't expected to find anything different to eat here. He could only hope that Hogwarts's house-elves would surprise him.

He wasn't asking for Chinese food. French cuisine would do; even pasta or pizza would be fine.

Once the last dish had been brought to the table, everyone sat down, and dinner officially began.

Kyle stayed especially alert, afraid he'd accidentally eat something strange.

He didn't want to humiliate himself in front of everyone.

Thanks to Kyle's vigilance, nothing happened.

The twins were acting as usual, telling jokes between bites and making everyone laugh. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

That was, until dinner was halfway over, when everyone at the table was at their liveliest.

After telling a joke about a greasy-haired Slytherin, Fred seemed to suddenly think of something and turned to George. "Hey, George, Kyle's going to Hogwarts tomorrow. Should we give him a hand? We could tell him a few things to watch out for during the Sorting. It can be really dangerous, after all."

George immediately caught on. He pretended to think it over for a moment—though really, he was struggling to swallow the steak in his mouth—then played along. "I don't think that's necessary, Fred. We should have confidence in Kyle. He's really talented. It's only an adult Troll. Kyle can definitely beat it and get through the Sorting just fine."

"I think you're right, George." Fred nodded seriously. "And someone as proud as Mr. Kyle Chopper would never listen to our advice anyway. He won't even call us his seniors."

Fred's plan was simple: before Kyle started school, scare him with a story about the Sorting. If they could keep him awake all night, even better.

And in these circumstances, no one would stop their prank. They might even get some help from the others. It couldn't have been more perfect.

Fred looked at Kyle smugly. He was determined to get even for what had happened in Diagon Alley.

Just as Fred had expected, their conversation immediately caught the adults' interest, and they all joined in.

The Sorting of first-years was a time-honored tradition among graduates of the British Wizarding World. They never tired of using the same old topic to fool one generation of young witches and wizards after another.

It seemed it was Kyle's turn this time.

"Dear, don't listen to them." Mrs. Weasley was the first to make her position clear. After giving the twins a stern scolding, she turned to Kyle. "It's not that scary. You only have to pass a test set by a group of ghosts. It's not dangerous at all."

"Molly, how can you lie to the boy?" Mr. Weasley refused to be outdone. He forced his face into a stern expression and glared at his wife. "Kyle's a wonderful boy. We can tell him the truth. I'm sure he can tame a Hippogriff all by himself."

"A Hippogriff? Isn't it a Dragon?"

Chris was taken aback, then said to Kyle with absolute conviction, "Son, trust your dad. It'll definitely be a Dragon. And judging from what I've heard, it'll probably be a Hungarian Horntail this year."

"Oh, I see."

"Mm-hmm, yes, I can do that."

"I believe you, Dad."

Kyle nodded like a toy with a spring in its neck, agreeing with everyone after they spoke and putting on the appropriate expression each time.

Mrs. Weasley looked relieved.

Mr. Weasley looked resolute.

His own dad looked uncertain.

The Wizarding World was so pitiful. What entertainment did they have? Quidditch, and fooling kids. That was about it. They had so little fun; he could humor them. It was only a performance, nothing difficult.

Everyone was happy now. That was good.

The whole table was enjoying itself, completely unaware that two helpless figures were trembling in a corner.