After a night of celebration, Hogwarts officially resumed classes the following morning.
Although the war had caused a few days’ delay, it wasn’t a serious setback.
Voldemort hadn’t only just returned—Hogwarts had long since begun preparing for a conflict that could erupt at any moment. That included accelerating course schedules for young wizards and multiplying their homework several times over.
By Christmas, the professors had already finished teaching all the required spellwork. Everything that followed focused solely on extra self-defense training, which had nothing to do with the exams.
Even so, the professors remained on edge—none more so than Professor McGonagall. Her responsibilities were greater than anyone else's. She not only had to teach Transfiguration to all seven year levels but also serve as Headmistress, managing every issue large and small.
On top of that, she represented Hogwarts in the ongoing investigation into Snape’s true identity.
Unfortunately, Hogwarts didn’t have a duplication spell, so Professor McGonagall had to constantly rush back and forth. Thankfully, her authority as Headmistress allowed her to temporarily lift the school’s Apparition restrictions... Otherwise, every time she returned to teach, she’d have to dash across the enormous grounds on foot.
While the other professors were running themselves ragged, Kyle—also a professor—was free to stroll out of Hogwarts and head to London with Kanna.
They were going to visit Cho.
As agreed the day before, Cedric was waiting outside an old red-brick shop in the middle of the street. It was the entrance to St. Mungo’s, its dusty front door bearing a large sign that read “Closed for Renovation.”
That sign had supposedly been hanging there for nearly a century, yet none of the passing Muggles ever thought twice about it.
Before long, Cedric spotted two familiar figures—Kyle and Kanna—stepping out of a similarly run-down telephone booth not far away.
The booth was a designated Apparition point for wizards. Like the red-brick storefront, it was protected by a Muggle-Repelling Charm to prevent any unwelcome interruptions.
“I’m over here!” Cedric called out, jogging over.
“Where are Fred and George?” Kyle glanced around. “Didn’t they say they were coming too?”
“They’ll be a while,” Cedric shrugged. “Apparently, they got another batch of Skiving Snackbox orders last night. Big sale.”
“Skiving Snackbox? Sounds like it came from Hogwarts,” Kyle raised an eyebrow.
Trying to skip class right after the war?
He had to admit, this year’s young wizards were hopeless.
Hopefully no one would be foolish enough to throw up in his class, Kyle thought.
After all, his class was already among the lightest—one lesson a week, and just a foot-long essay for homework.
If someone still wanted to cut corners... well, that was on them for choosing the wrong subject.
Kyle had been involved in the entire production process of Skiving Snackboxes—he knew them inside and out. Including how to render the antidote ineffective.
“Let’s head in. No point waiting for them,” Cedric said, walking up to the shop window. “I already got it cleared—we can just go straight in...”
Kyle and Kanna followed closely behind.
The three of them vanished into thin air, and reappeared a second later on the other side.
All around them came the constant murmur of voices and scattered groans of pain.
“Ever since the war ended, this place has been packed,” Cedric said casually as he led the way up the stairs. “But Minister Bones spoke to the hospital director and arranged a room for Cho’s mother.”
“The Minister came in person?” Kanna looked surprised. “Didn’t you say it wasn’t serious?”
“It wasn’t,” Cedric replied. “A hex that makes you imitate a gorilla, plus a twisted ankle. Not exactly life-threatening.”
“Then why did Minister Bones show up herself... Oh, could she be close with Cho’s mum?”
“Not that I’ve heard,” Cedric thought for a moment. “Maybe they only met—or got to know each other—during the war.”
As the two of them talked, Kyle was focused on something else entirely.
A gorilla-mimicking hex... Are Death Eaters really getting this creative?
What kind of hex even is that? Well, technically, by magical standards, it counted.
It might not affect Kyle personally, but for most wizards, getting hit by a hex that left you howling like an ape meant you couldn’t cast spells at all.
After all, gorillas don’t speak spells. It was nearly as troublesome as a Langlock. Trust the Death Eaters to come up with something so ridiculous and malicious.
“I don’t actually know why Minister Bones came to St. Mungo’s herself,” Cedric added, “but I’m guessing it was to show that she takes it seriously. It wasn’t crowded either, so it wasn’t a hassle.”
“We only had a few injuries—and those were just people crashing into each other because they were running too fast.”
Well...
Kanna nodded. Now that Cedric explained it, it really didn’t seem like much. No wonder they’d been able to leave St. Mungo’s so soon.
The group soon reached the fifth floor.
Spell Damage Ward.
It was even more crowded than the lower levels, with the corridors packed wall to wall.
But...
As Kyle glanced at the patients on either side, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they looked oddly familiar—like he’d seen them somewhere before.
“Clang!”
An iron bucket suddenly fell from someone's hands up ahead, crashing loudly against the floor.
Kyle instinctively turned his head and caught sight of a man staring at the three of them in panic—then turning to bolt down the corridor.
“Stop!”
Someone around the corner immediately gave chase.
“Why’s he running?” Kyle frowned. “Are they with the Ministry?”
“Ah… no,” Cedric hesitated. He didn’t answer right away, waiting until they reached a less crowded stretch of hallway before lowering his voice. “Actually, they’re all Death Eaters.”
“See the people over by the corridor? And those standing near the stairwell with wands? They’re Aurors and Hit Wizards—assigned to guard the Death Eaters.”
At the mention of their identity, any trace of sympathy in Kanna’s expression vanished instantly.
“The Ministry’s being awfully generous, not interrogating them first.”
“Well… uh…” Cedric looked even more awkward, stammering, “That’s probably… because they’re not worth interrogating.”
“They didn’t take part in the battle at Hogwarts?”
“They did—but in a way, they didn’t,” Cedric said, glancing at Kyle.
Kyle got it instantly.
“Wait… don’t tell me they’re the ones I…”
“Exactly. They’re the ones who got trapped in the Fiendfyre,” Cedric said, his voice even lower now. “Most of them barely made it into the school before they were pinned down. That’s why there’s not much to question them about.”
That explains it...
Kyle’s mouth twitched. No wonder they looked familiar.
There’d been quite a few Death Eaters caught in his Fiendfyre trap—it wasn’t like he could remember them all. Recognizing even a few faces was already impressive.
“Ah, we’re here.”
Cedric stopped in front of a door and knocked.
“Mom, that must be Cedric...” Cho’s voice called from inside, and the door opened.
“I told you, you really didn’t need to—”
She clearly hadn’t expected Kyle and Kanna to be standing there too. For a moment, she froze in place.
Then she reacted quickly—slamming the door shut again. Kyle had to tug Cedric back, or he would’ve walked straight into it.
“Hey, Cho, it’s me…” Cedric called out, confused, but there was no response.
Kyle had a pretty good idea what was going on.
In a balanced war, getting hurt was a badge of honor—but in a completely one-sided battle? Not so much.
Especially one as lopsided as this... anyone who got injured would probably feel humiliated.
Cho must not have expected Cedric to bring Kanna along.
Fred and George probably figured out the situation too and made up an excuse not to come.
Of course, this kind of “special treatment” only applied to Cho. If it had been Cedric in her place, they’d probably have started laughing the moment they reached the red-brick storefront.
Kyle shook his head. The earlier conversation about the Death Eaters had distracted him from seeing this coming.
Still, it wasn’t too late.
He quickly glanced around, trying to think of a reason to leave naturally—and just then, he spotted Director Sykes approaching from a distance.
“So glad you all won the war,” Sykes said warmly as she spotted him.
“Same here, Director,” Kyle replied. “Mind if we talk somewhere else?”
“Hm?” Sykes blinked in surprise. She’d only intended to say hello, but since Kyle suggested it, she didn’t decline.
Besides, seeing him had reminded her of something she’d meant to discuss.
“Let’s head to the sixth floor.”
St. Mungo’s sixth floor housed the tearoom and the hospital’s shops—a space meant for conversation and visitors.
“Come on, Kanna.” Kyle tugged lightly at her sleeve.
The sharp-witted witch immediately caught on and followed without question, leaving Cedric standing there alone, completely bewildered.
Weren’t they supposed to be here to check on Cho together?
Fred and George skipping out was one thing—but now Kyle and Kanna had gone off to do something else?
“We’re heading out soon. Are you two coming back?” he called after them.
But Kyle only let out a sigh and didn’t respond.
Let’s just hope Cho goes easy on him...
...
The three of them arrived on the sixth floor, to Sykes' private tea room.
As they sat down, Kyle suddenly realized the atmosphere had turned slightly awkward. In his rush to find an excuse to leave earlier, he hadn’t actually thought of what he’d say to Sykes once they got here.
Maybe he could ask if she’d had lunch?
“You—”
“I happened to run into you, and I’d like to ask a favor,” Sykes said first, breaking the silence.
Kyle blinked.
“No need for formalities, Director. If it’s something I can help with, I certainly won’t say no.”
“What if I need the tailbone of the Basilisk?” Sykes sighed. “I know it might sound excessive—it would involve damaging the Basilisk’s body—but I’ve found a rare potion formula, and Basilisk bone is the most essential ingredient.”
“No problem.”
“I understand it puts you in a difficult—wait, what did you say?”
“I said it’s no problem. I’m not troubled at all.”
“But...” Sykes hesitated now, thrown off by how readily Kyle agreed.
“The tailbone isn’t like venom or shed skin. You’d be taking an actual piece of its skeleton. It’s important for mobility. It could affect the Basilisk’s movement.”
“Oh, that’s not an issue,” Kyle said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Even if you needed its heart, it’d be fine. It’s already dead.”
“What?!”
Sykes shot to her feet, staring at Kyle in disbelief.
“The Basilisk... is dead?”
“That’s a Basilisk we’re talking about. Who could kill such a powerful creature—”
“Voldemort. Who else?” Kyle replied casually, but Sykes' expression shifted through a storm of reactions.
Well... Voldemort could kill a Basilisk.
Still, the thought made her heart ache.
As long as it was alive, the Basilisk could continually produce venom and blood—both of which, once properly diluted, had proven exceptionally effective in counteracting Dark magic.
Especially when it came to Petrification curses. Potions brewed from Basilisk venom were even more potent than Mandrake Restorative Draught.
But now the Basilisk was dead.
Which meant all of her prior research was—wait.
Suddenly, Sykes realized: if the Basilisk was already dead, then why was she still obsessing over collecting tiny quantities of venom?
“Kyle...”
“I was thinking of selling the Basilisk to St. Mungo’s. What do you think?” Kyle spoke before she could, as if he’d guessed her thoughts.
And to be fair, this had been his plan all along.
What Kyle needed was a living Basilisk, not a pile of expensive potion ingredients.
As soon as the words left his mouth, Sykes’ breath caught. Her eyes lit up, though there was a nervous flicker in them too.
“How many Galleons would you need...” She tried to keep her excitement in check. “I know a Basilisk is worth a fortune, but St. Mungo’s doesn’t have limitless funds. If possible, could we pay in installments?”
“I suppose that’s fine… but I didn’t expect St. Mungo’s couldn’t even manage a hundred Galleons,” Kyle sighed, then offered, “How about this—one Galleon per year. No interest.”
Creeeak...
Sykes’ chair gave an agonizing groan as she shifted sharply.
“How much?” she asked, staring at Kyle like she couldn’t believe her ears.
“One hundred Galleons,” Kyle repeated.
Sykes fell silent.
Honestly, if Kyle—who was known to be a little money-minded—had named some ridiculous figure, she wouldn’t have been surprised. But a hundred Galleons? Paid off at one Galleon a year?
That was practically a gift.
And yet, Sykes didn’t accept the offer immediately.
She looked at Kyle, picked up her teacup, set it down, picked it up again, then finally stood up altogether after repeating the gesture several times.
“Let’s talk somewhere else. I suddenly don’t feel like tea.”
“How about The Three Broomsticks?” Kyle suggested. “They’ve got the most authentic Butterbeer.”
“Fine,” Sykes said, and with a flick of her wand, something around the room shimmered and vanished.
A moment later, so did she.
“Apparition?” Kyle raised a brow. As far as he knew, St. Mungo’s—like Hogwarts—had strict anti-Apparition enchantments.
But then again, she was the hospital’s director.
If the Headmistress of Hogwarts could temporarily suspend restrictions, so could the Director of St. Mungo’s.
“Want me to bring you along?” Kyle asked, holding out an arm to Kanna.
“I’ll wait for you in Hogsmeade,” Kanna replied with a faint smile—and promptly vanished as well.
Kyle followed suit, Apparating to Hogsmeade.
The village was slowly returning to normal, and The Three Broomsticks had reopened for business. As soon as he arrived, Kyle heard a wave of exclamations coming from inside.
“Madam Sykes!”
“By Merlin’s beard...”
“Isn’t that Director Sykes?”
Apparently someone had already recognized her. Even Madam Rosmerta looked overwhelmed with excitement. After all, it was Sykes who had helped free her from the lingering effects of the Imperius Curse.
“Welcome, Director...” she said breathlessly, hurrying to clear out the other patrons. If Kyle and Kanna hadn’t obviously arrived with Sykes, they likely would’ve been asked to leave as well.
“What would you like to drink? Please, allow me to treat you.”
Kyle was a bit taken aback by Rosmerta’s enthusiasm. Not even when she’d met Dumbledore or the Minister of Magic had she seemed this thrilled.
“Mead, thank you. I need something a little different today,” Sykes replied.
As Madam Rosmerta bustled off to pour drinks, Sykes turned to Kyle and said softly, “This isn’t St. Mungo’s, right?”
Kyle nodded, unsure where she was going with this.
“Then... if I were to buy the Basilisk from you in a private capacity, would you still agree?” she asked, looking him straight in the eye. “You can name a higher price—if it’s reasonable, I won’t object.”
“No need at all,” Kyle said with a smile. “Whether it’s Madam Sykes or Director Sykes, I still think one hundred Galleons is a perfectly fair price.”