The Boggart had gone on strike again.
After being blown into a cloud of mist for who knew how many times, the Boggart had finally reached its limit. It hid inside the bottle and refused to come out no matter what, choosing silent resistance against Kyle's heartless cruelty.
And this time, even Fred and George were out of ideas.
Whenever the Boggart had gotten angry before, they could always rely on their superb acting skills to pretend they were frightened, giving it a little sense of accomplishment it had never experienced before.
Even if it was fake, that was already good enough. Once it felt better, the not-too-bright Boggart would continue cooperating with Kyle.
But not this time.
Perhaps it had been blown up too many times. Even a brainless Boggart had sensed that something was wrong. No matter how Fred and George screamed, it refused to show itself.
"It's gotten smarter!" George said, rubbing his throat as he gulped down a glass of water.
He had been shrieking in a high-pitched voice for half an hour already, and his throat felt like it was on fire.
"It hasn't gotten smarter. It's developed an instinct," Fred said, holding a cup as well. "Kyle has been blowing it up since Hogwarts let out, and now Hogwarts is nearly starting again."
"Honestly, the fact that the Boggart only started resisting now means it's already slower than most of its kind."
"That's true. Even I feel sorry for it sometimes." George waved his wand and filled himself another glass of water.
"A dozen or so Killing Curses every day. It's lucky the Boggart can't feel anything, or it would definitely fight you to the death."
Kyle stared silently at a stone in his hand for a long time before finally looking up.
"You