Chapter 370: Not a Single Normal Person
After leaving the Headmaster's office, Kyle didn't head directly to Hagrid's class. Instead, he stopped by the kitchen and asked the House-elves to help him buy a few things: specifically, the furniture for Professor Lupin's office.
While there were spare items in the storage room or the Room of Requirement, Kyle decided it was better to get new furniture. Professor Lupin had tried to cover for him—even if it hadn't worked, the effort had meant something. Kyle didn't want to skimp by just using old pieces. Besides, the cost was minimal, just a few badges' worth.
By evening, the House-elves had returned, and Professor Lupin's office was set up with gleaming new furniture. Lupin looked slightly uncomfortable with the polished replacements, handling everything with care as though afraid to damage it.
Kyle had also bought sweets with his remaining money, which he gave to the House-elves as a thank-you. The elves were overjoyed and insisted on filling his hands with more snacks in return. By the time he returned to the common room, his pockets were bulging as if he'd stuffed two Bludgers in there.
Kyle thought that would be the end of it. However, he was in for a surprise. By Friday morning, word had already spread throughout Hogwarts that he had accidentally set fire to Professor Lupin's office because of a Boggart.
"Hogwarts truly has no secrets," Kyle sighed as he sat down at the table, taking a sip of pumpkin juice in resignation. In less than half an hour, more than ten people had come by, asking him for details about what had happened. Thankfully, they didn't know it had been Fiendfyre; everyone assumed it was simply an unusually powerful Fire-Making Charm.
"Hey, Kyle, is it true?" Fred and George appeared, strolling over arm in arm as soon as Kyle set down his cup.
"That was spectacular!" Fred said, sliding into a seat next to him with an exaggerated look of admiration.
George pretended to wipe away a tear. "I heard you only blew up the Boggart after seeing us lying there, dead. Didn't know you cared so much."
"There was just one problem..." George shot Cedric, who was eating stew nearby, a side-eye. "Why was he there too?"
"What's so great about this?" Cedric muttered, looking baffled. Judging by Fred and George's theatrics, an outsider might have thought they were squabbling over Quidditch tickets instead of debating who should occupy a 'death spot.'