Unsurprisingly, once the werewolf was no longer at risk of dying, the Ministry of Magic came to take him away. Director Sykes didn’t attempt to stop them, and after they left, she returned to speak with Healer Helbert.
In the Director's office, she asked calmly, “How did it go?”
“Very well,” Helbert replied. “I managed to keep them occupied during treatment for about five minutes.”
“How much Veritaserum did you use?”
“Three drops. With a werewolf’s enhanced recovery abilities, the Ministry won’t be able to detect it,” Helbert replied. “I also asked all the questions you instructed. The werewolf was following Fenrir Greyback until about a month ago, when he moved to Knockturn Alley…”
While Director Sykes was debriefing Helbert, Dumbledore was just returning Kyle to his home.
“That’s enough for now, Kyle,” Dumbledore said. “I have to head to France to meet a friend—I only hope he forgives me for breaking our appointment.”
Kyle barely had time to recover from the discomfort of Apparition before Dumbledore disappeared. He realized he’d been dropped near The Burrow.
“Is the headmaster directionally challenged?” Kyle muttered, scratching his head. I’ve never heard of that before.
Not long after he returned home, his parents, Chris and Diana, hurried in.
“We received a letter from Dumbledore.” Chris, visibly anxious, pulled Kyle close to examine him. “You encountered a werewolf at St. Mungo’s?”
“Yes,” Kyle replied smoothly, having already crafted an alibi. “But Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn were right there with me, and they handled it quickly.”
“But Dumbledore mentioned in his letter that you were the one who dealt with the werewolf,” Diana said, drawing out her words. “Was he lying?”
“Well… I didn’t think just standing there was a good idea, so I offered a little help,” Kyle replied, holding up his hand with his fingers pinched to show just how little he’d done. “Really, just a tiny bit of help.”
Diana raised an eyebrow. “And this little bit of help is why Sykes applied for the Order of Merlin, Second Class, on your behalf?”
“Maybe Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn didn’t need it, so they passed it to me instead,” Kyle replied, though he could see she wasn’t buying it.
Diana narrowed her eyes. “First, you were taken into the Forbidden Forest by Oren, who was posing as a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Now, just days later, you encounter a werewolf at St. Mungo’s? Perhaps Hogwarts isn’t the right school for you. How about transferring to Beauxbatons? I happen to know Madame Maxime—she’d take good care of you.”
"Ilvermorny is also an option," Chris added at this point. "Scamander and his wife are both professors there, and I remember they were quite fond of you when you were young."
“Uh… I don’t think I’d like to transfer,” Kyle said, suddenly uneasy. “It sounds like a lot of trouble.”
“It’s not that much trouble,” Diana countered. “And at least you’d be safe from these constant dangers.”
“These are just accidents, really,” Kyle mumbled. “And what happened at St. Mungo’s had nothing to do with Hogwarts, right?”
Diana replied briskly, “How is that unrelated to Hogwarts? Hagrid is the Gamekeeper, and Kettleburn teaches Care of Magical Creatures.”
Kyle struggled to respond, but then inspiration struck. His eyes brightened as he said, “Maybe it’s because of Hagrid! Both times, the incidents were connected to him. He’s probably just unlucky and dragged me down with him. I’ll keep my distance from him once term starts, and I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
This excuse seemed to work, and Chris and Diana didn’t bring up transferring again. However, they insisted that Kyle not go anywhere alone—not even to Diagon Alley—unless an adult was with him. Since Kyle didn’t have plans to go out much anyway, he readily agreed.
For the next few days, to reassure his parents, Kyle stayed home, focusing on his schoolwork. Perhaps because the exams had just ended, the Hogwarts professors hadn’t assigned much summer homework—about the same amount as they had for the Easter holidays. Kyle finished his assignments in just a week, though this speed was in part thanks to frequent interruptions from Fred and George.
The twins had turned Kyle’s attic into their unofficial headquarters. They showed up almost daily while Kyle tried to work, experimenting with bizarre sweets they’d concocted. By now, they’d nearly exhausted the stock of candy they’d bought in Hogsmeade before the break.
When Kyle entered the attic after finishing his last assignment on History of Magic, he heard voices inside.
"Fred, diluting the Swelling Solution just thickens the tongue a bit—definitely not the effect we're going for."
"Yes, this is the closest we've come to success. If we don't dilute it, even a tiny amount will make the whole mouth swell up."
Kyle pushed open the door and stepped in. As soon as he saw them, he couldn't help but burst out laughing.
George looked fine, with no visible changes.
But Fred looked entirely different. His face was swollen and round, as if he had a pineapple jammed into his mouth. Anyone who didn't know him would think he'd been stung by a wasp.
Trying his best not to stare at Fred’s face, Kyle suppressed his laughter and asked, "What on earth are you two up to?"
"Something that’ll help young wizards stay out of class," George said with a wink and a grin. "We’re calling it the Skiving Snackbox."
Kyle tried to understand, but he really couldn’t make out what Fred was saying, so he looked to George for a translation.
"Fred said this line is going to be a huge hit," George interpreted, then continued to explain, "We’re aiming to make a candy that’ll only swell your tongue. The trouble is, we can’t quite control the Swelling Solution to affect just the tongue."
While making someone’s entire head or mouth swell could also help with ‘skipping class,’ it lacked the subtle touch of fun they wanted.
That wasn't the Weasley brothers’ style.
"Have you tried Shrivelfig?" Kyle asked after thinking it over. "I remember it can counteract the effects of Swelling Solution. It should work better than diluting it."
"Yes, how could I forget about that…" George slapped his thigh, causing Fred to wince in pain.
"Sorry, Fred, didn’t realize it was your leg," George said, jumping up. "I'll head to Diagon Alley—back in a jiffy!"