Cedric's performance at the Quidditch tryouts had been outstanding. He managed to catch the Golden Snitch in just five minutes, securing his position as the new Seeker for Hufflepuff. After that, his entire afternoon was spent on the Quidditch Pitch, as he joined his first training session with the team. Kyle only had a brief moment to catch up with him during lunch.
"Fred and George don’t know anyone from Slytherin either, but they said they’d help think of something," Cedric said through a mouthful of steak. "We’re going to talk it over this afternoon. Want to come?"
"I—" Kyle began to reply, but before he could say anything, a commanding voice echoed from the far end of the Hufflepuff table.
"Hurry up, Cedric, we need to start training!"
"Yes, Captain!" Cedric called back.
In a rush, Cedric struggled to swallow his mouthful of steak, then quickly gulped down a large glass of pumpkin juice. He turned to Kyle with a grin. "I’ll head off to train first. This year’s Quidditch Cup is definitely going to Hufflepuff!"
And with that, Cedric sprinted off toward the Quidditch Pitch, clearly excited for the training session ahead.
"Hmph..." Kyle shrugged, not feeling particularly envious. What’s so special about being on the school team? he thought. Not only did they have to train on weekends, but they couldn’t even enjoy a proper meal. Meanwhile, Kyle had plenty of time to savor his lunch in peace.
Knocking on the table, Kyle ordered himself a glass of lemonade to cleanse his palate and enjoyed the rest of his meal at his own pace.
Later that afternoon, Kyle left the castle, carrying the parchment he had copied from the library. Growing Chomping Cabbage turned out to be much more complicated than he had initially imagined. The plant was notoriously picky about its environment and climate, and only a few skilled Herbology masters had ever managed to successfully transplant it outside its native habitat.
Fortunately, the Room of Requirement could solve most of these issues. Kyle’s only real challenge now was dealing with the fertilizer.
According to A Detailed Explanation of Magical Plants in Asia, Chomping Cabbage took fifty days to germinate in the wild and required two to three years to reach maturity. Kyle didn’t have that kind of patience, so his plan was to speed up the growth of the seeds.
After leaving the castle, Kyle walked across the meadow and made his way to a small wooden cabin near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The cabin looked weathered, its roof and walls a patchwork of different shades of brown, evidence of many repairs over the years. A crossbow and a pair of large rubber boots hung by the door.
Kyle stepped up to the door and knocked.
"Who is it... Oh, Silly Hagrid, stand back, you'll scare the others," came a familiar voice, followed by a low growl. The wooden door creaked open just a crack, revealing Hagrid’s bearded face.
"Little wizard? What’re you doing here?" Hagrid asked with a stern expression. "First-year students aren’t allowed near the Forbidden Forest. Go on, back to the castle with you."
He was about to close the door when Kyle quickly spoke up.
"Hagrid, it’s me. Remember? We met before."
"Huh?" Hagrid paused and squinted at Kyle, taking a closer look. As he studied the boy, his expression softened. The more he looked, the more familiar Kyle seemed to him.
“I remember!” Hagrid suddenly exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “You’re that little troublemaker from the Chopper family. Thanks to you, Saban doesn’t even recognize its own name anymore.”
“That’s because it doesn’t like it, Hagrid,” Kyle replied seriously. “You really should ask owls for their opinion when naming them.”
“I... well, I can’t argue with that,” Hagrid admitted, looking a little flustered. Then, in a more hurried tone, he asked, “So, what brings you here?”
Instead of answering directly, Kyle glanced around and asked, “Can we talk inside?”
“No!” Hagrid quickly replied, growing even more nervous as he leaned against the door. “I mean... it’s just that my place is a bit of a mess right now. And, well, Fang doesn’t like strangers. I’m afraid he might scare you.”
“Oh? Who's Fang?” Kyle asked, intrigued.
“He’s my hunting dog,” Hagrid explained. “Bigger than you are. Really tall, you know.”
Kyle raised his eyebrows, then shrugged. “Okay, forget it. I just wanted to ask if there are any Mooncalves in the Forbidden Forest.”
Hearing the mention of the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid’s expression shifted to one of alarm. “First-years are absolutely not allowed in the Forbidden Forest! It’s dangerous in there, and if I catch you sneakin' in, I’ll have to tell Professor Sprout!”
“Relax, Hagrid,” Kyle said calmly. “I’m not planning to go into the Forbidden Forest. That’s why I came to ask you instead.”
“Really?” Hagrid still seemed skeptical.
“Of course. I just planted a couple of new magical plants and need some fertilizer for them,” Kyle explained.
“Ahh, that’s why you’re asking about Mooncalves,” Hagrid said, visibly relaxing. He squeezed his large frame through the doorway and quickly shut the door behind him.
Hagrid led Kyle over to his pumpkin patch, where he picked up a metal bucket from the corner. “Here, help yourself,” he said, offering the bucket full of Mooncalf droppings—silver, ping-pong-ball-sized spheres. There were probably two or three hundred of them inside.
Kyle, however, frowned as he inspected them. The color was off—they were too dark, indicating they were at least a month old.
“Do you have any fresh ones?” Kyle asked.
Hagrid hesitated for a moment, then said, “I’m not sure, but we can check. Come with me.”
They walked along the edge of the Forbidden Forest for a short while before Hagrid stopped and told Kyle to wait while he ventured inside alone. Kyle agreed but silently memorized the route and surroundings, just in case.
Since Mooncalves weren’t particularly dangerous and didn’t live deep in the forest, Hagrid returned within ten minutes, holding a small bag.
“Here you go,” Hagrid said, handing Kyle the bag. “Since Mooncalves usually stomp their droppings into the ground at sunrise, this is all I could gather. If you need more, you should send me an owl next time, and I’ll collect them for you.”
Kyle weighed the bag in his hands—it held about seven or eight fresh droppings. It wasn’t much, but it would suffice.
“Thank you, Hagrid,” Kyle said, smiling.
“Don’t mention it,” Hagrid replied, scratching his head a little sheepishly. “Just... try not to go renaming any more owls.”
“That was just an accident.”
When they arrived back at Hagrid’s cabin, Kyle once again casually suggested they go inside, but Hagrid quickly blocked the door.
“There’s really nothing to see in there, Kyle,” Hagrid insisted, his eyes darting nervously. “You’d best head back to the castle.”
Kyle glanced at him and nearly laughed. Hagrid’s poor attempt at deception made it obvious something was going on inside the cabin.
“Alright, I’ll head back then,” Kyle said, turning to leave. As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, “By the way, Hagrid, just a friendly reminder... you really shouldn’t keep a Three-Headed Dog inside a house.”