After some careful thought, Kyle decided to keep quiet about the three-headed dog, Fluffy, betraying his father's trust in the process. He couldn't resist the allure of magical creatures, even if he lacked the extraordinary talent of someone like Newt. Creatures like Fluffy were exceedingly rare, even in Greece, and he knew that passing up this opportunity would mean missing a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

In exchange for this little deception and to ease his conscience, Kyle quickly broke free from the twins' hold and rushed to his father, Chris, offering him an apologetic look.

Chris was bewildered.

And so were the twins.

They had been ready to sprinkle some of their newly invented "jumping powder" onto Kyle's head, but just as they were about to, he ducked and ran off. The timing couldn't have been worse—right as the powder flew from their hands, it landed squarely on their own heads.

The next thing everyone heard were frantic scratching sounds. They turned to see Fred and George furiously rubbing their heads, which now looked messier than a bird's nest. Their wild movements resembled those of panicked baboons, and even the Sorting Hat would have looked tidier than they did now.

"Oh, Fred, George, what have you done this time!" Mrs. Weasley hurried over, her face flushed with embarrassment. She grabbed each twin by the ear and dragged them off into a nearby alley, seeking some privacy. After all, fewer people meant less public humiliation.

The twins, on the other hand, were in a dire situation, gasping loudly and—unless it was Kyle's imagination—shedding actual tears.

Seeing this, Mr. Weasley let out a sigh of relief. He quickly urged everyone else to carry on with their shopping, trying to downplay the scene.

At the back of the group, Kyle snuck over to Ron, trying desperately to stifle his laughter. But when he caught sight of his mother, Diana, glaring at him, he swallowed hard and forced a strained, polite smile.

Diana was usually an easygoing parent, but her intuition was unnervingly sharp. Since he was young, there was little Kyle could hide from her. He was lucky that his time-travel arrival left him a few extra months before his original birth date. Otherwise, she might have discovered his secret a long time ago.

"Honestly," he thought to himself with a grimace, "there's no such thing as privacy when you have a mom like this."

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Diana didn't say anything aloud but gave Kyle a warning glance before turning away.

Truthfully, the whole situation wasn't that serious. Molly Weasley just worried easily.

The twins, Fred and George, had a well-known reputation for mischief at Hogwarts, and their antics were legendary even among adults. Diana had heard her share of stories—like exploding toilet seats, sneaking a sack over Mrs. Norris during a late-night escapade, tossing dung bombs under Slytherin seats, and blaming the victims for soiling themselves during class. Imitating a baboon in public paled in comparison to these past stunts.

People who witnessed this scene would likely just laugh, not think less of the Weasley family—except perhaps one pure-blooded wizard with long, platinum-blonde hair. Mrs. Weasley's strong reaction stemmed more from her not being used to such antics.

Her older sons—Bill, Charlie, and even Percy—had been top students, and Molly often still saw the twins through that lens. Even though they behaved very differently from their brothers, it was hard for her to change that perspective overnight.

After all, Bill and Charlie weren't exactly angels when they started at Hogwarts either, but they eventually earned stellar reputations. If you tried to imagine serious, rule-abiding Percy acting like a baboon in public, you'd understand Molly's shock better.

But this phase wouldn't last forever. After a few more terms at Hogwarts, as more stories of the twins' escapades made their way home, Molly would start to accept their nature. At least, she'd be a bit more prepared when they got up to their next bit of trouble.

---

After the little incident, the group went their separate ways. The Weasleys were in Diagon Alley to pick up books for the new school year for the twins and Percy, while Ron and Ginny still had some time before they started at Hogwarts.

Kyle, on the other hand, was a first-year with a long shopping list, and the most important item was a wand. He navigated Diagon Alley with ease until he arrived at his destination: a small, unassuming shop.

*Ollivanders: Crafting fine wands since 382 BC.*

Kyle paused at the entrance. Every time he saw the shop, he couldn't help but be amazed. The place was so dusty that you could almost sculpt a figure out of the dirt on the windows. Did wizards really cherish that old-timey charm?

In contrast, places like Gringotts and the Broomstick Shop looked spotless and well-kept.

Or maybe this was just the confidence of being the only game in town—knowing customers had no choice but to come, regardless of appearances.

He'd wondered about this for a long time and had even asked his father and Mr. Weasley, but they never had a satisfying answer. Now, standing here again, he could only shrug and attribute it to the eccentricity of master craftsmen.

Asking Ollivander about it directly? Not a chance. It was crucial to maintain a good rapport with the most famous wandmaker in the British wizarding world.

But Ron would be starting school next year, so maybe he could team up with the twins and... well, *politely ask* their youngest brother for some information.

Not that it would be dishonest or anything.

After all, he wasn't tricking Ron Weasley; he was merely inquiring with his dear friend, Ronald Weasley.

---

(End of this chapter)