Chapter 444: The Key
Sirius Black had always thought Kyle was a rare, exemplary student. His grades were top-notch, his abilities surpassed most of his peers, and he knew when to be flexible, not bound by rigid rules and regulations. Best of all, Snape hated him—a sure sign, in Sirius's mind, that Kyle was a genuinely good kid. Privately, he and Lupin had even speculated that one day, Kyle might become the headmaster of Hogwarts.
But by the following night, Sirius had started to question this idea.
Between Kyle's earlier threat to "beat up Harry" and his current, seemingly effortless use of the Blasting Curse, Sirius began to reconsider his impression of "good students."
For nearly half an hour, the drawing room had sounded like a battlefield, with explosions and cracks echoing nonstop. In the midst of all this noise, Sirius noticed Kyle using a curse that looked disturbingly familiar.
Sirius stared at the magnificent round table as it split cleanly down the middle, the edges so perfectly smooth they looked intentional. He'd seen that particular spell in action before, back in his days of dueling with Death Eaters. Snape had used it on him more than once. But how did Kyle know it? He couldn't have learned it from Snape... or could he?
Sirius shook his head, dismissing the thought. Both Harry and Lupin had confirmed that Snape disliked Kyle intensely. And that was beyond question.
After thinking it over without finding an answer, Sirius finally gave up. Maybe Kyle had found the spell in a book in the library, just as Snape must have at some point.
Meanwhile, after casting spell after spell, Kyle let out a tired sigh, lowered his wand, and dropped into a nearby chair. The box was proving far tougher than he'd expected. Neither the Blasting Curse nor the Slicing Charm had left any marks, and even Sectumsempra had only managed to make a faint white scratch.
While Kyle rested, Lupin and Sirius tried their hands at opening the box, but they had no better luck. The barrage of spells had attracted Kreacher's attention, and the House-elf pushed open the door to the destroyed room. His eyes were wide with fury and horror as he took in the wreckage, muttering words like "spoiled brat," "scum," and "bastard" under his breath.