In the afternoon, Kyle made his way to Hagrid's cabin.
“Kyle, what are you doing here?” Hagrid greeted him warmly, handing over a plate of rock cakes. “Thanks for the gift! I like it a lot.”
On the small table in the cabin, the models of the dragons were displayed carefully, and Hagrid had even set up a little fence around the table, as if worried they might fall. It was clear he was quite fond of them.
Kyle shook his head, declining the rock cake. “Hagrid, I don’t think I can eat another bite right now.”
“Right, I reckon you’re already stuffed with turkey and sausages,” Hagrid chuckled, taking a bite of one of his rock cakes. “So, what brings you here? I’ll tell you now, though, I’m not taking you to the Forbidden Forest.”
“I’m not here for the Forbidden Forest,” Kyle replied. “I just wanted to ask if you know wizards with the surname of Prince.”
“Prince?” Hagrid repeated, scratching his head as if the name rang a bell. He paused, then gave his head a tap. “Sorry, Kyle. I’ve had a bit of a cold these past few days; my head’s all fuzzy. Can’t seem to remember much of anything right now.”
Suddenly, he brightened. “Oh, right... Poppy asked me to go see her in the Hospital Wing after the feast.” He stood up in a hurry. “Sorry, Kyle, I’ve got to go now. I’ll send you an owl if I remember anything.”
“Alright,” Kyle replied, a bit disappointed, as he followed Hagrid out of the cabin. It seemed he’d have to wait until the holidays were over and write to Chris to see if he knew anything about the surname "Prince."
Kyle wasn’t planning on asking any other professors. Aside from Hagrid, he suspected Professor McGonagall and the others wouldn’t share anything on this topic. If “Prince” really had some connection to Snape, they’d likely stay tight-lipped.
Back in the castle, with little else to do, Kyle headed to the library and resumed reading the hardcover book he’d borrowed earlier that morning. It was a biography of a legendary duel master whose life was nothing short of astonishing. According to the book, he had never lost a duel since his first, and held the record for 200 consecutive wins, including eleven straight dueling championships. To this day, no one had broken his record—not even Professor Flitwick, who’d once managed a streak of 115 consecutive wins in his youth.
However, despite the impressive subject matter, the biography itself left much to be desired. Complex aspects of magical theory, which should have been explained step-by-step, were glossed over in a few brief sentences. It felt like trying to solve a math problem where, instead of showing the steps, the author simply handed over the answer without any explanation.
The book’s vague language extended to the master’s dueling advice. Though it claimed to offer helpful tips, the guidance was frustratingly ambiguous:
'For moving targets, lightly twist your wrist at the right moment when casting a spell.'
'To extend the spell's range, tilt the wand slightly upward, but not too high, or it will go off course. Just follow your instinct.'
'If you feel lost in a duel, ask your wand; it will guide you on the next move.'
“‘Appropriate’ means finding the right timing... ‘Trust your instincts’...” Kyle pondered, replaying the vague words over and over in his head. Though the phrases made his head spin, he was determined not to give up. Instead, he pushed himself to grasp what the author might be implying. With renewed focus, he practiced repeatedly in the Room of Requirement, hoping to make sense of the cryptic advice.
This was, by far, the most time-consuming part of his training. Sometimes, Kyle would spend an entire day—or even longer—trying to understand a single ambiguous sentence. Despite the book’s thinness, it took him until the end of the holiday to finish it.
The day before classes resumed, Kyle headed to the library to return the book. Madam Pince took it from him, checked its condition, and set it aside, satisfied. As Kyle turned to browse the shelves for another book, a cool voice interrupted him from behind.
“I’d suggest you stop borrowing these kinds of biographies.”
“What?” Kyle spun around, puzzled.
Madam Pince sat at her desk, expressionless as she flipped through the pages of the book he’d returned. “This book’s content isn’t particularly complex, yet you’ve been reading it for two whole weeks. Clearly, it’s not the right choice for you.”
Kyle was taken aback. This was the first time he’d seen Madam Pince go out of her way to address a student, especially about a topic outside her usual library responsibilities. Regaining his composure, he asked, “Are you saying my foundation is weak?”
“No. Your foundational knowledge in magic is strong. Judging by the books you’ve borrowed, you’re already ahead of many third-years,” she replied, her gaze steady. “But understanding the life and techniques of a legendary wizard requires both experience and depth of knowledge.”
Kyle bit his lip, realizing he had no real counterargument. He was only in his first year, and aside from his knowledge of magical creatures, his practical experience was admittedly limited.
“If you truly want to learn something useful, don’t waste your time on biographies one.” Madam Pince gestured toward a nearby shelf. “I recommend you look over there.”
Kyle nodded and, without hesitation, headed toward the indicated shelf. If Madam Pince had gone to such lengths to guide him, it was probably worth a look. Besides, he hadn’t decided on his next book yet—who knew what he might find?
He soon found that taking her advice had been a good decision. Five minutes later, he returned to the counter with a thick tome entitled The Changing of Charms: Origins.
Madam Pince’s expression shifted subtly before returning to her usual neutral demeanor. After recording the loan, Kyle decided to bring the book back to his dormitory to read later; today was the last day of the holiday, and he still had a few things to do.
His first stop was the Room of Requirement. As soon as he entered, a group of soft, furry creatures crowded around him. Five Mooncalves gazed up at him, their big, round eyes fixed on him.
Kyle petted each one in turn and asked, “It’s daytime—why aren’t you sleeping?”
One of the Mooncalves tilted its head and let out a soft coo.
“Oh, you’re afraid someone might come, so you don’t dare sleep?” Kyle chuckled. “Don’t worry; no one comes here except me.”
Reassured by his words, the Mooncalves returned to the little cave Kyle had created for them in the Room of Requirement.