Chapter 451: Bill and Charlie

For the next few days, Kyle stayed home in St. Catchpole Village, rarely venturing out. He usually spent his time doing homework or working in the attic with Fred and George, helping them make the little props they'd use for pranks. Occasionally, Cedric would drop by as well.

Not only was Chris busy, but Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory had also been tied up with work. Fred and George had plenty to say about this, complaining that they now had to wake up two hours earlier every morning for breakfast.

"Percy seems quite pleased with all this," Fred remarked as he fiddled with a newly crafted firework in the attic. "I think he'd be happy to live at the Ministry full-time."

George nodded. "He's started working in the Department for International Magical Cooperation. Just make sure not to mention anything about 'foreign countries' unless you want a never-ending lecture."

"Does he discuss work with you at home too?" Cedric asked, intrigued. "I think that'd be kind of interesting." Cedric's father rarely talked about work—except when he'd had too much to drink. So Cedric usually learned things about his father's job only in those half-asleep moments.

"Work? Hardly," Fred said, rolling his eyes. "I doubt the Ministry would let someone who's just started out handle International Magical Affairs."

"And they're not interested in the bottom of a cauldron either," George added with a laugh. "I never realized how much Percy's been obsessing over potions."

"The bottom of a cauldron?" Cedric asked, puzzled.

"Percy's fixated on this lately," George explained with a shrug. "Apparently, he's organizing some exhibition of thick-bottomed cauldrons and is busy picking out the right pieces for it."

"Maybe he'll end up heading the International Magical Cooperation Department thanks to that exhibition…" Fred suggested.

"Or even the Minister of Magic…" George added, grinning. "Yes, since thin-bottomed cauldrons are such a serious issue, Fudge wouldn't know what hit him!"

Fred and George could always find endless amusement and discussion when it came to Percy.

"Luckily, we only have to put up with him for another month," Fred said, carefully placing a finished firework in the suitcase beside him. These fireworks would all turn into Galleons one day, and they were quite attached to them.

...

Time passed quickly in the cheerful atmosphere. Occasionally, Kyle would glance in the direction of London, wondering what was happening to Sirius. It had been more than half a month since they returned from the cave, and the only message Kyle had received was a short note from Lupin on the day they got back. Since then, he'd heard nothing from 12 Grimmauld Place.

I guess he's fine... Kyle thought. Lupin definitely wouldn't do anything too harsh, and as for the rest, Sirius will probably just tough it out.

And so, the holiday flew by. Soon enough, the last day of July arrived—Kyle's birthday. Early that morning, a large flock of owls swooped in, delivering gifts from friends near and far. Among them was a reply from Sirius at last.

He had sent a large package packed with all kinds of herbs. Almost everything available in Diagon Alley was there, mostly flowers and leaves, three of each type, with the poisonous ones wrapped separately—obviously Lupin's doing. Sirius would never be that meticulous; if it had been up to him, he'd likely have just bundled the herbs together in one big wrap. Besides, Sirius was still wanted by the authorities and couldn't go to Diagon Alley himself.

Kyle grabbed a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and started munching while he unwrapped the rest of the gift. Midway through his snack, he heard a rustling noise from downstairs. Looking out the window, he spotted four familiar red-haired figures. Fred was at the front, holding a huge cream cake. He looked up and grinned.

"Happy birthday, Kyle!"

Behind him stood George and the other two Weasleys.

"Charlie, Bill?" Kyle said in surprise. "When did you get back?"

"Last night," Charlie replied, waving. "We arranged to be here early."

"One second," Kyle said, putting down his half-unwrapped presents and hurrying downstairs to open the door for them.

"Happy birthday!" Fred said, thrusting the cake toward Kyle, nearly landing it in his face. No doubt Fred had done it on purpose, just to startle him a bit.

"You're lucky Mum's not here, or she'd be furious," Charlie said, pulling the cake back and moving in to give Kyle a hug. "Happy birthday." Charlie looked even tanner than last year, with a fresh scar on his arm.

Bill walked over, giving Kyle a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Long time no see, Kyle... or should I say, Sir Order of Merlin?" He smirked. "When I first heard about the Second Class Order of Merlin, I thought it was some old wizard with the same name."

"Too bad—you guessed wrong," Kyle laughed.

Bill had changed the most. Since graduating, he seemed to have embraced a different style. His short hair had grown into a ponytail, and he now wore an earring with a small fang-like charm. Dressed in a casual outfit, he looked more like a rock fan than a wizard, save for his dragon-hide boots.

"Different, huh?" Bill said, shaking his long hair.

"Maybe a bit, but not by much."

Kyle wasn't surprised—Bill's character was well-known to him. Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, had made a habit of bringing her haircutting kit to the train platform each year.

Kyle stepped aside, letting the group into the living room. Fred set the cake on the table, and Kyle went to fetch drinks.

"Do you want some wine?" He pulled a bottle from the cabinet, eyeing Bill and Charlie.

"No, Mum wouldn't... Hold on." Charlie's refusal stopped short when he noticed the label. "How old is that Firewhiskey?"

Kyle held up the bottle. "150 years—it's written right here. It's real aged Firewhiskey, a gift from the Romanian Ministry of Magic."

"Oh… in that case, I'll take some," Charlie said, licking his lips.

"Are you sure you won't get in trouble for bringing that out?" Bill asked, raising an eyebrow. The best stock at the Leaky Cauldron was usually a hundred years old, and even that was rare. Not even a pocketful of Galleons could convince Tom to part with it—let alone 150-year-old Firewhiskey.

"No worries," Kyle assured him. "My dad hardly ever drinks alone, and since it's been ages since we were all together, I'm sure he'll invite you and Mr. Weasley to join him for a drink at dinner tonight. I'm just starting the festivities a little early."

"Then I'll have some too," Bill said, conjuring a glass with a quick flick of his wand.

Fred and George, eager to join in, conjured their own glasses, but Kyle, without a word, tossed them two bottles of juice.