Malfoy glared at Kyle with fury, his wand raised. Without another word, he cast, “Locomotor Mortis!”
Aiming the Leg-Locker Curse at Kyle, Malfoy hoped to immobilize him just long enough to make a quick escape and find the protection of his fellow Slytherins. But Kyle reacted just as quickly.
“Protego!” he called, a transparent shield appearing before him, deflecting Malfoy’s spell right back.
The next moment, Malfoy—who had turned to flee—was struck by his own spell. “Plop...” He toppled forward, landing on the floor with his legs locked together, groaning in frustration.
Crabbe and Goyle finally grasped what was happening. Seeing Malfoy down, they lunged at Kyle, fists clenched. Fred and George moved to intercept them, but Kyle swiftly tossed a few licorice candies their way. Mid-air, the candies transformed into slender ropes, wrapping tightly around Crabbe and Goyle, leaving them unable to move.
“Stop!” came a furious shout from down the corridor, where a group of older Slytherin students were approaching, scowling. The commotion had drawn a crowd, and among the onlookers were several Slytherins glaring at Kyle and his friends.
“Kyle, how dare you bully our first-years!” one of them accused, stepping forward protectively as he glanced at Malfoy, assuming he was one of their own. This was Draco Malfoy, after all—it was obvious he’d be sorted into Slytherin.
The fourth-year leading the group raised his wand without hesitation. “Levicorpus!”
“Protego!” Kyle’s shield flickered up again, deflecting the spell. But the older Slytherin, more experienced than Malfoy, sidestepped the rebounded spell.
Kyle, holding back his friends, raised his voice to ensure the gathered students heard him clearly. “I see your underhanded attacks, but I accept your challenge nonetheless.”
The older Slytherin sneered. “Challenge you? That’s a joke. You were just lucky to save some failure last year, which is the only reason you got that ‘Special Award for Services to the School.’ Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re special. Anyone who dares challenge Slytherin will pay the price!”
He lifted his wand again, clearly eager to teach Kyle a lesson.
Kyle, with a hint of admiration in his gaze, gave him a silent thumbs-up. This guy actually had the guts to insult Kanna as a “failure” in front of a crowd—a blatant insult to Snape’s own kin. With courage , it was almost a shame he wasn’t in Gryffindor.
But despite his grudging respect, Kyle wasn’t about to just stand by. Raising his wand, he cast two quick spells. “Spongify!” followed by “Levicorpus!”
The older Slytherin tried to raise a Shield Charm to deflect, but as his feet unexpectedly softened and slipped beneath him, he stumbled. The half-formed Shield Charm fizzled, and Kyle’s Levicorpus hit him squarely.
In an instant, he was yanked off his feet, suspended upside down from the train’s ceiling. To his horror, a long, sharp needle-like object hovered just inches from his eyes, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
“I advise you not to move,” Kyle said calmly, “or you’ll be spending your first day of school in the Hospital Wing.”
The Slytherin hanging from the ceiling remained completely still, his eyes fixed in terror on the sharp needle in front of him, not daring to even breathe.
Satisfied, Kyle turned to the stunned Malfoy. “So, are we ready to have a civil conversation?”
“I’m not afraid of you,” Malfoy said, though his voice quivered. “If this is blackmail, I’ll tell Professor Snape.”
“I already explained, it’s a fair claim,” Kyle replied, setting a stack of damaged maps on the floor. There were ten in total, all made from high-quality parchment threaded with gold.
Picking one up, he pointed to a long, visible tear running across it. “Because you banged on the door, it disrupted my Charm, ruining the maps I’d just completed. I’m requesting compensation—nothing unreasonable.”
“They’re not worth two hundred Galleons!” Malfoy protested angrily. “They’re just a few pieces of parchment! The two Galleons I gave you already should cover it ten times over.”
“No, no, no,” Kyle said, holding a map up to Malfoy’s face. “Look closely. This parchment alone costs one Galleon. The intricate design at the top? That’s woven from Unicorn hair. And those gems lining the border? Fire Crab shell fragments. Each of these maps is worth quite a lot, so the two hundred Galleons is practically wholesale price.”
Behind Kyle, Cedric and the others fought to keep straight faces, all biting their lips to suppress their grins.
Malfoy, meanwhile, looked taken aback. He reached out to touch the map, recognizing the Unicorn hair pattern by its distinctive feel; his family owned a tapestry made from Unicorn tail hair, and this felt identical. Kyle wasn’t lying—the materials were genuinely valuable.
Malfoy’s confidence faltered. “Then… why not just use a Mending Charm?” he stammered. “A simple spell will fix it. If you don’t know how, I can—”
“Mending Charm? Are you serious?” Kyle interrupted, his tone suddenly indignant.
Malfoy recoiled at the unexpected outburst. “Uh... yes? Why, is that a problem?”
Kyle fixed him with a stern gaze. “Do you understand what it means to sell a high-end product? It means not a single flaw is acceptable—not even the slightest crease, let alone a long tear .”
Seeing Malfoy’s bewildered expression, Kyle continued, “And in our line of work, integrity is everything. Selling repaired goods as new? That’s unthinkable. Our shop stands by its reputation; we’d never sell a product that’s been patched up, no matter how perfect the repair. It’s a principle of an honest business, and it’s a responsibility to every customer who trusts us.”
Kyle spoke with righteous indignation, and Malfoy, sitting there bewildered, somehow found himself swayed. Even the Slytherins around them, who had been watching with hostility, listened in a daze. Gradually, some of their animosity toward Kyle faded, and instead, they glanced at Malfoy with a mix of curiosity and judgment.
After a moment of silence, with everyone’s eyes on him, Malfoy finally looked up and said, “Two hundred Galleons, right?”
“That’s correct,” Kyle replied with a nod.
Without another word, Malfoy removed a badge from his collar and handed it to Kyle along with his wallet. “I only brought 150 Galleons this trip, so I’ll send the rest in a few days. This 100-Galleon Quidditch Championship commemorative badge can serve as collateral.”
Malfoy hadn’t wanted to seem as if he was giving in to blackmail, but now that the “misunderstanding” was cleared up, he felt justified. Two hundred Galleons was a hefty amount, but nothing his family wouldn’t provide with a quick letter home.
Kyle took Malfoy’s wallet but, after a brief look at the badge, handed it back with a neutral expression.
“Keep the collateral,” he said evenly. “I trust the Malfoy family wouldn’t dishonor themselves by failing to keep their word.”
Malfoy puffed out his chest, his expression softening. His opinion of Kyle had improved. No wonder this student had received the Special Award for Services to the School in his first year; clearly, he had an eye for quality.