Chapter 767: A Deal with the Pixie
Chapter 767: A Deal with the Pixie
"A perfect vitality tonic. I can't fault it."
With these words from Professor Marcheban in the underground classroom of Hogwarts, the seventh-year students concluded their final N.E.W.T. exams.
As the crisp bell rang, Kyle and his classmates left the room, making their way back to the entrance hall via the stairs.
The exams were over, and the students' reactions varied. Some were delighted and looked forward to their upcoming graduation and the adventures that lay beyond.
But most felt a sense of reluctance, a first for those who usually eagerly awaited the holidays. Now, they wished for time to slow down, just a little longer.
The once-familiar castle, which they had grown tired of over the years, suddenly felt new and intriguing again. Every corridor, every painting, and even the faded handrails along the stairs seemed to hold a special allure.
It was as if they had traveled back in time to their first day at Hogwarts, filled with the same curiosity and interest in their surroundings.
This feeling was something students of other grades struggled to comprehend.
A group of ghosts gathered together, observing the students who were laughing and crying simultaneously. They wore expressions that suggested they had expected this very scene to unfold.
It happened every year, and they were no longer surprised by it.
"Here we go again," said Nearly Headless Nick, glancing at the Fat Friar beside him. "I'll never understand what's so memorable about this dilapidated castle." He then asked, "By the way, when is he arriving? He should be here soon, right?"
"It's about time," replied the Fat Friar. "Oh... there he is."
As he finished speaking, a water-filled balloon flew down from the upper floors and landed precisely amidst a group of seventh-year students.
The balloon burst upon impact with a boy's head, drenching him in vinegar-infused water.
A faint acidic odor began to permeate the entrance hall.
But that was just the beginning. Peeves cackled as he flew down from the upper floors, hurling more water balloons at the seventh-year students in the hall.
Aside from relishing the opportunity to prank new first-year students, he equally enjoyed leaving a lasting impression on those about to graduate.
Every year, around this time, he would create havoc. The year before last, it had been fireworks, and last year, dung bombs... It was worth mentioning that the Weasley twins were his suppliers, and after using up all their stock, it could only be described as a catastrophe, at least for Filch.
This year, Peeves had opted for vinegar-filled balloons with a tiny bit of water added.
"Stop, Peeves!" someone shouted, brandishing their wand in preparation for retaliation.
First-year students would undoubtedly be powerless against Peeves' pranks, but these students were in their seventh year. If they couldn't defend themselves now, their years of study would have been for nothing.
Recalling the torment Peeves had inflicted on them over the years, a few Gryffindors confidently raised their wands, determined to teach Peeves a lesson before graduation and pay him back for past embarrassments.
However, they hadn't anticipated that Peeves had upgraded to superior quality balloons—a mischievous creation of the Weasley twins—which exploded upon contact with a curse.
And so, the entrance hall was showered with vinegar, soaking the unfortunate students from head to toe.
"Heh heh heh... Silly little brats... Stupid little brats... Come and have a look! Someone's fallen into a vat of vinegar!"
Peeves clutched his stomach, letting out a shrill, grating laugh.
More people began to gather, drawn by the commotion. Embarrassed and furious, a group of seventh-year students immediately covered their faces and ran off.
Among the crowd, only a handful of individuals remained unaffected by the chaos, and Kyle was one of them.
When the first water balloon had been thrown, he had cast a water-repelling charm on himself and Connor, who stood beside him. Consequently, when the balloon burst, none of the acidic liquid had splashed onto them.
After Peeves finished throwing his last few balloons, he returned, hovering before Kyle.
"Ah, young Kyle..."
He floated in front of Kyle. "So, you're graduating too, aren't you?"
"That's right," Kyle nodded. "Any last words of advice, Mr. Peeves?"
"How about repeating a year? Just one year," Peeves suggested with a mischievous grin. "Once the Weasley troublemakers graduate, you're the only one left who's any fun. The rest of these brats are too boring and no fun at all."
"As long as you can convince Dumbledore, I'm up for it," Kyle replied.
"Oh... Your refusal is so cold and ruthless," Peeves said, pulling a face at Kyle.
He was well aware that Dumbledore would never agree to such a request.
If a student of Kyle's caliber were to repeat a year, Hogwarts would become a laughingstock.
"Now what?" Peeves asked, looking conflicted as he crossed his legs and sat in midair. "I didn't get to play enough with the dung bombs you gave me last time. Why did you have to catch all those intruders so quickly? It's no fun!"
Peeves was referring to the Death Eater attack on the castle a month ago.
Upon receiving the news, Peeves had immediately realized that this was the opportunity Kyle had spoken of. Full of enthusiasm, he had taken out his specially prepared dung bombs and rushed over, eager to join in the fun.
However, the professors had acted too quickly for his liking. Before Peeves could really enjoy himself, the disposable Death Eaters were captured and dealt with.
What excited him even more was that the professors had seen his actions but chose not to reprimand him.
They had let him off the hook for using special dung bombs, and Peeves felt like he was dreaming.
Although he didn't usually care about the professors' scolding, this felt different—a novel and thrilling experience that left him wanting more.
And now, Kyle, the one who had suggested the idea, was about to graduate.
"Don't worry, there might be other opportunities in the future," Kyle said with a smile. "Remember to keep the remaining stock safe and don't throw them around. You'll need them when the time comes."
"Look, is that Peeves?" Ron asked in disbelief from the stairs, his voice cracking slightly without him realizing it.
He had never seen Peeves like this... so polite?
But Ron's confusion was left unanswered, as Hermione and Harry were equally bewildered. As the students who had suffered the most at the hands of Peeves, they knew better than anyone just how detestable the poltergeist was.
In their first year, it was Peeves' loud shouting that had inadvertently led them to stumble upon the place where the Sorcerer's Stone was kept, and they had encountered Fluffy the three-headed dog.
To be honest, if they hadn't run fast enough, they might have become Fluffy's midnight snack.
And every time Harry went on his nightly adventures, he would inevitably encounter Peeves, and Hermione had also been on the receiving end of several ink bottles thrown by Peeves while doing her homework.
"What did you do to him, Kyle?" Ron asked again.
"I don't know," Harry shook his head, "but I can imagine it's definitely not something simple."
He racked his brain, trying to recall any recent events at school that could have led to this, but couldn't find a single incident that seemed relevant.
"Could it be something from even earlier?" Harry muttered to himself, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think of any interaction between Kyle and Peeves.
"Never mind, let's not worry about that for now," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose at the strong acidic smell wafting up from below as she pulled the two boys away to another spot, covering her nose and mouth with her sleeve.
"Harry, what were you saying about your plans for the holidays?"
"I want to look for the other Horcruxes," Harry said quietly, "From Slughorn's memory, we know for sure that Voldemort split his soul into seven parts, including himself, so there should be six Horcruxes.
We've found three so far—the crown, the goblet, and the diary from our second year.
I want to use this holiday to find the remaining three."
"Oh, that's a great idea," Hermione said, "So, what's your plan? Or how do we even start looking? You know there are no clues about Horcruxes in the library, right?"
"Of course, I know," Harry said mysteriously, "But just because this library doesn't have it, doesn't mean other libraries won't."
"Other libraries..." Ron frowned, "You don't mean Flourish and Blotts, do you? Don't joke about spending the entire holiday in Diagon Alley."
"No, not that," Harry shook his head, "Remember? Sirius had a private library in his house."
"You mean the one in the basement?" Hermione immediately caught on.
"Yes," Harry said, "I only remembered recently that Kyle spent quite some time in there. I suspect he might have found a clue about Horcruxes in one of the books."
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked doubtfully.
"Not sure, but it's worth a try," Harry said, "This is the only lead we have for finding Horcruxes, and if Kyle really did see something there, the three of us should be able to find it too."
"Alright!" Hermione agreed without much hesitation. Perhaps she was simply eager to go browse some books.
And so, they had their holiday plans set.
...
It was unclear if it was because of the Death Eaters or Dumbledore's absence, but the start of the holidays this year was earlier than usual.
According to tradition, the students expected to leave on the seventh day after the exams, but on the third day, the Hogwarts Express was already waiting at the Hogsmeade station.
"Everyone, line up," Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick stood at the castle entrance, directing the students to board the carriages in an orderly fashion toward the station.
"Your exam results will be delivered by owl in mid-July."
There was a scattered cheer from the crowd, seemingly pleased to receive their results in this manner instead of taking them home themselves.
But most of the students remained silent, wishing they could stay at school until the holidays were over.
Unfortunately, whether it was Dumbledore or the other professors, they all seemed to have other matters to attend to and couldn't stay with the students indefinitely.
And at that moment, no one noticed that one of the carriages at the back quietly detached itself from the group and made its way to an empty field in front of the Quidditch pitch.
Kyle and Connor disembarked from the carriage and looked around.
Someone was already waiting for them, their golden hair shimmering in the sunlight.
"Honestly, Kyle, you should have contacted me earlier," said Fleur Delacour as she walked up to Kyle, her eyes filled with displeasure.
"If you had told me about Connor's trip to France a week earlier, I would have had enough time to make all the necessary arrangements.
"But you only told me about it yesterday afternoon."
"Morning, it was morning..." Kyle's eyes darted around, "And it takes time for an owl to deliver a message."
"Does it make a difference?" Fleur looked even more displeased.
"Well, I didn't know the school would end the term early," Kyle shrugged, quickly changing the subject, "But how did you get to Hogwarts?"
"Oh, I came with Madam Maxime. She's here to see your Headmaster Dumbledore," Fleur explained.
As she spoke, another person approached them.
"Kyle, I've contacted the French Gringotts," Bill ran over, "I got lucky. There's a goblin there who used to work with me, and he's agreed to exchange the gold coins you provided for potion ingredients at a discounted price.
On top of that, with Voldemort and his Death Eaters becoming increasingly rampant, the prices of potions in the wizarding world had skyrocketed, driving up the cost of ingredients as well.
"It's fine. The impact isn't that significant in France," Kyle said.
"Are you sure?" Connor eyed him doubtfully. "Do you think the goblins will pass up such a great opportunity to profit?"
"Of course not," Bill chimed in. "Those greedy goblins would love nothing more than to strip witches and wizards of every last Galleon they own."
As he walked over, Fleur naturally draped her arm around his, the two of them exuding an air of intimacy.
"Oh?" Kyle raised an eyebrow, teasing as he said, "No wonder you chose to stay in Britain."
"That's right, just as you suspected." Fleur didn't deny it, openly acknowledging it.
"Maybe I should look for someone else, then," Kyle mused.
He had been planning to ask someone to accompany Connor to France, as the journey was long and she wouldn't be familiar with the place. He didn't feel comfortable with her traveling alone.
As a native French speaker, Fleur was the first person that came to mind, especially since she and Connor had gotten along well during the Triwizard Tournament.
But now, seeing the affectionate display between the two in front of him, Kyle felt awkward about breaking them apart.
"Don't worry about it," Fleur waved her hand. "I was planning to go back to France anyway to help Madame Maxime contact some of her friends. And there's not much I can do here."
"Yeah, that's right," Bill nodded vigorously beside her, as if afraid Kyle would change his mind. "Let Fleur take Connor to Paris. It's a big city, and it would be helpful to have someone familiar with the place to show her around."
"Hold on, you two," Connor interrupted them. "Kyle, you still haven't explained why you're buying potion ingredients from Gringotts. I know you have Galleons, but you're not usually this wasteful. You should really return those ingredients."
"I can't," Kyle spread his hands helplessly. "The transaction is already done. Do you think the goblins will return the Galleons once they've gotten their hands on them?"
"You..." Connor's face flushed with anger at Kyle's extravagant behavior.
"Don't worry, I didn't spend much at all," Kyle reassured her with a smile.
But Connor clearly didn't believe him. Goblins were known for their greed, not their charity. How could he claim that he hadn't spent much?
"I can vouch for that," Bill spoke up, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Actually, the goblin made a request in exchange for agreeing to sell us the potion ingredients at the regular price."
"What kind of request?" Connor asked, her brow furrowed.
It was easy to guess that the greedy goblins would ask for an exorbitant price. The hidden value of their demand would surely exceed the spilled Galleons, perhaps even surpass them.
From Bill's tone, it seemed they had agreed to the goblins' terms. Were these people insane?
"Ahem..." Bill cleared his throat, suppressing his laughter as he explained, "He asked to go into Kyle's vault and pick out an item for every five hundred Galleons worth of discount."
"What?"
Connor blinked, as if she hadn't heard correctly.
"The goblin agreed to sell us the potion ingredients at the regular price," Bill elaborated, "but in exchange, for every five hundred Galleons worth of discount, he gets to choose an item from Kyle's vault."
At this, Connor fell silent.
Fleur, on the other hand, looked indignant. "Greedy, shameless..."
"It's fine, don't get worked up," Kyle laughed. "In fact, there's nothing in my vault."
"What?" Fleur paused, taken aback. In her mind, a young wizard like Kyle, who had already made a name for himself, would surely have a well-stocked vault.
Not to mention, he had won a thousand Galleons as the prize for the Triwizard Tournament. Additionally, not many people knew that Kyle was also an alchemist. During his time at school, he had invented numerous fascinating magical gadgets.
It was common knowledge that alchemists were wealthy these days.
"Actually, I keep my valuables elsewhere," Kyle said, biting his lip to suppress his laughter. "I haven't used my Gringotts vault since my second year, I think. If I'm not mistaken, there should only be a few Galleons and Sickles left inside."
"Please don't use the word 'only' so lightly," Bill joked. "Our family vault only has a pile of Sickles in it."
"That was in the past," Kyle laughed.
"So, the goblin miscalculated?" Fleur asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Obviously," Kyle confirmed. "I don't know where he got his information from, thinking that my collection would contain valuable items. But unfortunately, not everyone stores their treasures in a Gringotts vault."
"How much did you trade for?" Connor asked.
"Five thousand Galleons worth of ingredients, and a five thousand Galleon discount..." Kyle smiled broadly. "This is the most profitable deal I've ever made. Even without the presence of Death Eaters, it would be difficult to buy Dragon's Blood and Mandrake for fifteen Galleons each."
Kyle's smile widened as he continued, "Oh, and Bill, make sure to remind that goblin—he can take ten items, not a single one more."
"What if it's not enough?" Bill asked. "From what you said earlier, it sounds like there really isn't much in your vault."
"Then there's nothing I can do about it," Kyle shrugged. "He'll just have to make do with prying a few stones off the walls or shelves. I won't be compensating him, not even a Knut."
(End of Chapter)
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