Chapter 753: Sweet and Refreshing Pudding

"Professor McGonagall, what do you think…"

Two hours later, Kyle and the professors exited the Room of Requirement just before curfew.

"There is no doubt that this is the work of Rowena Ravenclaw," said Professor McGonagall. "I can't think of anyone else who could have done this."

"So, do I need to let you know when I come tomorrow?" Kyle asked.

After all, there was only one key, and he had no intention of giving it to anyone else. The only way to access the Room of Requirement now was if everyone entered together.

"No need…"

"You can come by yourself…"

To Kyle's surprise, all four professors declined his offer.

"Does this seem strange to you?" Professor Babbling asked with a faint smile.

"A little," Kyle admitted honestly.

Although Ravenclaw's memories were heavily focused on runes, Hogwarts professors were far from incompetent. They could understand the content—at least, Professor Babbling had no trouble with it. Yet, just like Professor McGonagall, she had refused without hesitation.

"That's exactly the point…" Professor Babbling explained. "We are different from you. Our understanding of magic has been systematically ingrained in us for most of our lives. Changing that understanding is incredibly difficult."

"And more importantly, this is your remedial class," Professor McGonagall continued. "Madam Rowena Ravenclaw must have deliberately structured and selected the curriculum. Every lesson is tailored specifically to you—suitable for you, but not for us."

"Not helpful at all?" Kyle frowned.

He had originally hoped this 'remedial class' could enhance the overall combat effectiveness of Hogwarts.

"Of course not. I only meant that the course content isn't suited to us," Professor McGonagall said, her expression growing more serious. "But the unique perspectives on Transfiguration, the completely different concepts from modern Transfiguration magic—those are still incredibly valuable for reference."

"I've learned a lot, but I'll need time to process these ideas, sort through them, and attempt to integrate them into my own magic. That's not something that can be accomplished in just a day or two."

"The same goes for me," Professor Flitwick added, his voice bright with enthusiasm. "I've been inspired—I might just revisit that paper I wrote ten years ago on the theory of wandless magic."

"For some reason, I was never able to put my ideas into practice before, but now… I see another possibility."

"Thanks to you, Kyle," Professor Flitwick said, giving Kyle a congratulatory pat on the back.

…That was as high as he could reach.

"Is that so?" Seeing that the professors had all gained something from the experience, Kyle chose not to press further.

As for Professor Sprout, she had little interest in Charms—her passion lay with magical plants. Unfortunately, Herbology hadn't been a subject at Hogwarts a thousand years ago, and she couldn't bring the school's potted plants into the Room of Requirement with her.

That was rather unfortunate.

In the end, it seemed the only one who hadn't benefited from the session was Professor Sprout. But she didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

…

And with the professors' permission, Kyle no longer had to worry about anything else.

For the next few weeks, he would head to the Room of Requirement early in the morning and stay there until evening. Sometimes, it was so late that he simply spent the night inside.

After all, the Room of Requirement was a perfect replica of Hogwarts, complete with the school's common rooms. The method of entering the Hufflepuff common room had never changed, so Kyle easily knocked on the wooden door and stepped inside.

However, unlike the common room he remembered, there were only nine dormitories in sight. And perhaps because this area did not exist within Rowena Ravenclaw's memories, the common room was completely empty.

It felt a little strange, but it would do for one night.

Meanwhile, Kyle could clearly sense his progress with runes, improving little by little each day. It wasn't a sudden breakthrough, but more like steadily climbing a set of stairs—slow but tangible, each step solid beneath his feet. The feeling was immensely satisfying, almost addictive, as if he could stay there forever and never step outside again.

But that was impossible.

The lock Ravenclaw had placed on the Room of Requirement didn't just keep out other people—it also barred the house-elves. They couldn't bring food inside.

If Kyle wanted to eat, he had to leave.

It was a minor inconvenience. He simply treated it like a normal class, with the only difference being that inside the Room of Requirement, it was always daytime. Whether it was day or night outside made no difference—he could continue his lessons regardless.

Still, to make sure he remained well-rested, Kyle usually stayed until around eleven o'clock before heading back to the common room for a late-night snack. The next morning, he would return again.

Because he still appeared in the Great Hall regularly, and the professors had provided a reasonable excuse for his absence, there wasn't much gossip about him skipping classes. Most people just assumed he was studying in his own way.

After all, by seventh year, students made all kinds of decisions about their education. It wasn't uncommon, especially for top students. Some even spent their entire final year interning at the Ministry of Magic's Auror Office—like Nymphadora Tonks, another former Hufflepuff.

Everyone had long since grown used to it.

…

Under these circumstances, April quickly passed its halfway mark.

The weather grew warmer, and bright blue skies stretched over the castle towers. Yet, despite these signs of summer's approach, Hogwarts was far from cheerful.

Many students found their assignments becoming increasingly difficult. At some point, the professors had begun assigning topics that were rarely seen before, ones that often required an hour in the library just to understand what was being asked.

"Professor McGonagall must have forgotten that we only took our O.W.L.s last year and won't be preparing for N.E.W.T.s until next year…"

In the library, Ron couldn't help but complain, "Hermione, would you be so kind as to tell me what the Gamp Definition is? All I know is the Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. Has it been renamed?"

"Of course not," Hermione replied quickly, her head buried in a thick book. "The Gamp Definition is the theoretical basis for human transformation. It also includes all the possible conditions that can occur during the process… Look for yourself, it's in The Lion and the Witch."

"Thanks," Ron said absently, reaching for the brown reference book on Transfiguration.

Next to him, Harry was holding up a finger and swinging his arm vigorously.

He was practicing wandless magic—one of the assignments for Charms class.

He still had no idea what Professor Flitwick was thinking. Starting last week, Flitwick had suddenly required everyone to attempt wandless magic in class, and they weren't even allowed to chant the spells.

Harry had to admit—it was unbelievably difficult.

His arm was aching, yet the parchment on the table barely moved. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure if it had moved at all or if it was just a trick of the wind.

"Does Professor Flitwick's method really work…?" He couldn't help but mutter the thought aloud.

"It definitely works," Hermione said, glancing up at him. "I managed to do it in class. You just need to calm yourself, recite the incantation in your mind, and—most importantly—not think about anything else."

Harry tried again. And again. But the parchment refused to budge. Frustrated, he rubbed his aching arms.

"No, this isn't working… The Quidditch match is coming up soon, and this year, Gryffindor has the best chance to win. I can't stop thinking about it."

"Quidditch again," Hermione scoffed, exasperated. "Can't you think about anything else besides Quidditch?"

"You could learn from Kyle. He didn't even play in Hufflepuff's last match, and they still won."

"It was a close game," Harry corrected her. "If the match had gone on for five more minutes, the outcome could've been completely different."

"Am I analyzing the match with you?" Hermione wanted to say more, but she caught herself and shut her mouth before her voice got any louder.

She quickly glanced around.

Fortunately, the library was packed with students, all struggling with their increasingly difficult assignments. Books were being flipped through with mounting frustration, and even when Madam Pince tried to silence them, some students only slammed their books open harder to vent their irritation.

So, her outburst hadn't been too out of place.

"Listen to me," she said, lowering her voice. "If you want to complete Professor Flitwick's assignment by next class, you have to concentrate and forget about the match. Maybe you should take a page from Kyle's book and think of yourself as a substitute."

"That's impossible," Ron interjected before Harry could say anything. "Don't forget, Harry's the best Seeker. And most importantly—if he doesn't play, we'll definitely lose."

"Are you saying Professor Flitwick's homework isn't important?" Hermione shot back, refusing to back down. "There was a wandless magic question in the N.E.W.T. exam last year. And five years ago, too. Don't you want your certification?"

"It's just a small question in the whole exam. No need to exaggerate," Ron dismissed her concern. "Besides, we still have ages before the N.E.W.T.s."

Harry didn't say anything, but he agreed with Ron.

Giving up Quidditch? That was out of the question. He definitely wasn't going to do that.

Hermione probably knew that would be the case. She glared at them, clearly displeased, before snatching up her homework from the table.

"Good luck to you, then. Both of you. Mr. Quidditch," she said sharply. Then, without another word, she grabbed her books and stormed out of the library.

"Why is she angry again?" Ron muttered under his breath.

"You really shouldn't argue with her," Harry sighed, feeling a bit remorseful that he hadn't stopped Ron earlier.

After all, Hermione had the homework in her hands. Arguing with her wasn't going to get them anywhere, which was precisely why he hadn't said a word.

Why doesn't Ron learn from his mistakes?

The assignments were already more difficult than ever. Without Hermione's help, could they really finish them on time?

Harry sighed again at the thought.

Ron looked like he regretted it too, but in his usual fashion, he straightened his shoulders and stubbornly muttered, "So what? We'll just write it ourselves."

He quickly changed the subject. "By the way, Harry, did you get Slughorn's real memory?"

"Not yet." At the mention of it, Harry's mood soured even more. "He's been keeping his guard up around me. Every time we're alone, he immediately makes up an excuse to leave. It's happened several times now."

"You're just lacking a bit of luck," a voice said beside them.

Hermione had returned. She was rummaging through the books on the table, picking out three more to take to Madam Pince.

"Or you could try again," she continued after a pause. "Tomorrow's the Easter holiday—it's a great opportunity. I think you should give it another shot."

"I've already tried so many times," Harry grumbled. "He keeps avoiding me. What else can I do?"

"Then try again. Eventually, it will work," Hermione said simply.

She left to check out her books, not sparing Ron a single glance. It was as if, in her mind, he wasn't even there—only Harry.

…

When evening fell, a lavish Easter feast was held in the Great Hall.

Though the Easter holiday was just as long as Christmas, not a single student chose to go home this time. Everyone stayed at Hogwarts.

Outside, the Death Eaters' activities were becoming more and more frequent. According to The Daily Prophet, they were no longer content to lurk in the shadows. They had begun appearing openly on the streets, spreading fear wherever they went.

The battle between the Death Eaters and the Aurors never ceased. Every day, someone went missing. The Dark Mark, which had not been seen in over a decade, now appeared over a house almost every other day.

Even those who might have wanted to return home were strictly forbidden by their families, who insisted they remain at Hogwarts.

At the dinner table, Kyle took a bite of the chocolate egg the house-elves had specially prepared for him, his gaze drifting toward the staff table.

As expected, Dumbledore was still absent. However, this time, Snape had not left. As Kyle glanced over, their eyes happened to meet.

Their gazes locked briefly in midair before both turned away at the same time.

It was worth mentioning that Snape was already aware of the Room of Requirement—Professor McGonagall had told him.

In fact, she had visited the Room twice more, and on the second occasion, she had brought Snape along.

But since Kyle had the key, he remained silent, no matter how interested Snape seemed, as if waiting for him to speak first.

Would Kyle indulge him?

Of course not.

He walked past Snape as if he didn't see him and, after leading Professor McGonagall into the Room of Requirement, shut the door firmly behind them.

That had not sat well with Snape.

Following that incident, Professor McGonagall had been reluctant to return, meaning that if Snape wanted access, he would have to find Kyle himself.

More than once, he regretted leaving the school over such a trivial matter. Had he remained with the other professors, he wouldn't have needed to make excuses now.

…

And Dumbledore, who had learned about what had happened at the school from Professor McGonagall's letter, hurried back that evening.

But by coincidence, that night, Kyle had stayed up all night in the Room of Requirement, struggling to grasp a key point he didn't understand.

When he finally emerged for lunch the next day, Dumbledore had already left—just ten minutes earlier, called away by another matter.

And this wasn't the first time.

Every time Dumbledore returned, it just so happened that Kyle had spent the night in the Room of Requirement.

This made Dumbledore feel deeply uneasy, and for a while, he even suspected that Kyle was doing it on purpose.

But Dumbledore was wrong.

Kyle had no idea that a century-old man had been waiting for him at the door for several nights. He was simply following his own learning pace, unaware of the near-misses.

"What are you going to do during the holiday?" Kanna asked, picking up a piece of pudding. "Are you still going to the Room of Requirement?"

"Absolutely," Kyle said. "You should come too. I have a feeling the runes class there would suit you perfectly. It's not exactly easy to understand, but it's not too difficult either, and it's very detailed."

"After a while, once you've been learning it, you should be able to grasp the other classes as well."

"Okay." Kanna nodded, agreeing after only a brief hesitation. She didn't have anything else planned, and it wouldn't hurt to learn a bit about runes.

She suddenly thought of something and hesitated before speaking. "Kyle… can we bring Professor Snape this time?"

"Why?" Kyle asked.

"He's asked me several times, and every time he does, he gets distracted. I feel like he's really curious about it."

"Then why doesn't he come and tell me himself?" Kyle cleared his throat and imitated a pretentious tone. "He is a professor. If he comes and asks me to take him in and let him have a look, I definitely won't refuse… But he hasn't said a word, so he must not be interested."

Kanna rubbed her forehead, already exasperated by the ongoing silent competition between Snape and Kyle.

How long had they been at this? And they still found it entertaining instead of tiresome?

"How about this, I'll ask for him, okay?" Kanna glanced toward Snape, who was either deliberately or unintentionally sneaking glances in their direction, and sighed. "You know, I can completely represent Professor Snape."

"Well… I'll think about it," Kyle said, rubbing his chin.

But the next second, he felt a warm sensation on his cheek, accompanied by the sweet scent of pudding.

"How about this?" Kanna asked.

"Huh, okay…" Kyle blurted out. "No problem, I'll take care of it."

Almost instinctively, his gaze flickered toward the staff table.

Snape must have seen it. He had to have seen it.

Sure enough, his expression darkened instantly, his entire body radiating a low-pressure fury, as if he were just a breath away from leaping over and cursing Kyle into oblivion.

But was Kyle afraid?

Not in the slightest.

Instead, he even raised an eyebrow at Snape smugly.

Snape's grip tightened around the baked potato in his hand, mashing it into pulp before kneading it over and over again, as though imagining Kyle's face in its place.

"Do you have to provoke him?" Kanna watched their ridiculous back-and-forth and shook her head helplessly.

"Sorry, it was a reflex." Kyle quickly hid his grin and turned away from Snape.