Kyle was just about to head back to the dormitory after returning from the greenhouse when he was intercepted by the duo as he stepped into the castle.
"Thanks for the book, Kyle," Harry said with a touch of excitement, handing The Origin of Quidditch back to him. "You were right—it’s just perfect for me. I've been studying the techniques carefully, and at my last practice, Wood said I’d improved a lot, like I was a whole new player."
"You finished reading it so quickly?" Kyle asked, taking the book back with a smile. "No wonder Professor McGonagall thinks so highly of you, Harry—you really are talented."
"No, no, I just skimmed it," Harry replied, scratching his head, looking a bit embarrassed. "Maybe it’s just because I didn’t know much about Quidditch before, so any improvement seems big."
"Don’t be modest, Harry," Kyle shook his head. "It took me over a month to fully absorb all the techniques in that book, and you managed it in half that time."
"Oh, is that so..." Harry’s face froze as he gave a strained laugh, his gaze shifting guiltily away from Kyle’s.
Seeing this, Kyle raised an eyebrow, as if he’d picked up on something.
"Do you need any other books?" Kyle offered. "I’ve got Quidditch Through the Ages and Quidditch: How to Score More Points. I can bring them to the Great Hall if you want."
"No, that’s alright!" Harry blurted out, then quickly added, "I mean, with homework and training, I’m just too busy right now… not much time for reading."
"Alright, just let me know if you change your mind," Kyle nodded, likely guessing what was really going on.
If he was right, Harry probably hadn’t even finished The Origin of Quidditch, likely only making it halfway through at best. But that was perfectly normal—picturing Harry Potter actually sitting down and reading a book in full was almost funny.
Still, seeing the thoughtful look on Kyle’s face only made Harry feel guiltier.
In truth, Kyle didn’t understand Harry as well as he thought. Harry hadn’t even made it halfway through the book.
When he first started reading, Harry was genuinely interested. The first night, he’d even stayed up until the early hours, falling asleep on the table with the book still open in front of him. But that enthusiasm only lasted a day. Once the initial excitement faded, the long paragraphs and complex vocabulary started to wear on his patience. Around that time, Wood had praised him for his noticeable improvement—saying he was almost on par with Charlie. Figuring he’d done enough, Harry read only about a third of the book before he couldn’t bear to continue.
Kyle chatted with them a little longer before taking his leave.
As he walked away, Ron suddenly turned to Harry. “If only Hermione were more like Kyle.”
“What?” Harry asked, not following at first.
“Haven’t you noticed? Hermione talks to everyone like she’s giving a lecture. It drives people crazy. Honestly, she’s like a nightmare sometimes,” Ron said. “Kyle’s nothing like that. He’s top of the year, won that Special Award for Services to the School, and yet, he’s always patient with us—whether he’s showing us around before term started or lending you a Quidditch book, he doesn’t lecture us.”
“Don’t say that, Ron,” Harry whispered. “Hermione can be nice sometimes.”
“Oh really? When?” Ron asked, dubious.
Harry hesitated, then murmured, “Well, the other day when Filch was chasing us, she was the one who opened that door at the end of the corridor so we could escape.”
“Yes, and led us straight to the Three-Headed Dog for dinner,” Ron replied with a shudder, the memory sending chills down his spine. “I’d have rather faced Filch any day.”
Harry fell silent, privately agreeing. While Filch was terrifying, at least he wasn’t likely to eat them like snacks.
“The Halloween feast is about to start, so let’s head to the Great Hall,” Harry said, eager to change the subject. “I heard it’s supposed to be as good as the opening feast. Is that true?”
“Even better,” Ron replied with a grin. “George told me that last Halloween, Dumbledore had the Headless Hunt perform. I wonder who he’s invited this year. Maybe it’ll be the Weird Sisters—they’re super popular.”
Harry perked up at this. He’d never heard of the "Weird Sisters," but he understood what a band was. Growing up with the Dursleys, he’d never been to a concert, or even watched one on TV—Dudley didn’t like music much.
The two made their way downstairs to the Great Hall, eager for the feast.
Meanwhile, Kyle passed through the barrels in the kitchen corridor and entered the Hufflepuff common room. Only a few students were still there, heading out to the Hall as he arrived. One of them noticed him.
“Kyle? You coming to the feast?”
“I’d like to, but I’ve got to grab something from the dormitory first,” Kyle replied. “You go on ahead—I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Alright, but you’d better hurry,” said an older student. “The Halloween feast is about to start.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve been looking forward to the food all day.”
But despite his words, Kyle had no intention of going to the feast tonight. He had something more pressing to attend to.
Once the common room was empty, he settled on a sofa and pulled out a large piece of parchment. It was the Marauder’s Map, borrowed from Fred and George before Herbology that day.
“I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” Kyle recited, and lines of ink spread across the parchment, forming the layout of the castle. As he studied it, he noted that almost everyone was either in the Great Hall or headed there. Only a handful remained scattered around.
He scanned the map carefully but didn’t see Quirrell’s name.
A few minutes later, the feast had officially begun. Aside from himself, the only people who hadn’t gone to the Great Hall were Hermione, who was still on the first floor, and Filch, who was on the eighth.
“Still no sign?” Kyle frowned, puzzled.
Could it be that Quirrell wasn’t planning anything tonight?
No, that didn’t seem right. Kyle quickly dismissed the thought. The feast had only just begun—perhaps it was still too early to see any suspicious movements.