When the Longbottoms left Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, Neville still hadn't recovered from his confusion. With a puzzled and uncertain look, he followed them out.
Kyle remained seated inside, and only after their figures had completely disappeared down the street did he finally burst into laughter.
There was no helping it—just like you need to dig a hole before planting potatoes, the scars were simply the inevitable result of creating Horcruxes.
The reason they ended up in the shape of lightning bolts was because, in that moment, Kyle had subconsciously thought of Harry's forehead.
Still, it wasn't without its perks. At the very least, the next time Mr. Longbottom went on a beach holiday, he'd definitely attract plenty of astonished looks.
After all, not just anyone could sport a dozen perfectly shaped lightning-bolt scars. If he wanted to be stylish about it and painted them gold, it would be even more eye-catching.
Kyle might even be able to turn it into a new business.
Though, knowing Frank Longbottom's personality, he'd probably never go for it... Fred, on the other hand, just might.
...
After returning to Hogwarts, Kyle immediately sought out Kanna and told her what had just happened.
"Are you going to go?"
"Yes, I already promised Frank," Kyle replied. "But I'm still short one date. If you're willing, that would be perfect."
Unlike the simple meals held at Hogwarts, the Christmas dinners hosted by wizarding families were basically Christmas balls...
Except for those who were too young, everyone who received an invitation would typically attend with a dance partner—just like the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament.
"Is that your way of inviting me?" Kanna asked with a smile.
"Of course," Kyle said.
"Alright," Kanna raised an eyebrow. "Then I accept. But I'll need to buy a new dress robe. The old one's gotten a bit tight."
"You should talk to Fleur," Kyle suggested. "As much as I hate to admit it, when it comes to dress robes, the shops in France are definitely more professional."
"Then I'll find time to head over to Shell Cottage," Kanna nodded.
After Bill and Fleur got married, the two of them moved out and settled in the suburbs of Cornwall, near the sea.
Kyle never quite understood why they chose to live somewhere so remote.
It really was remote—even most wizards wouldn't bother going there, let alone newspaper-delivering owls.
But according to Bill, he and Fleur both considered it a lonely yet beautiful place—and they loved it.
All Kyle could say was that wizards clearly had different tastes. He didn't get it, but he respected it.
Besides, once a place was connected to the Floo Network, it didn't really matter how remote it was.
...
With a dance partner sorted, Kyle stopped thinking about the matter and returned to his daily routine of attending classes and caring for the dragons in the garden.
He had to admit—dragons grew ridiculously fast.
By now, most of them stood over twenty feet tall when upright. The largest one, Ironbelly, had already reached forty feet. When it flew over the Forbidden Forest, it looked like a massive dark cloud.
The Centaurs had lodged complaints more than once, but no one paid them any attention.
Not that anyone could do anything about it anyway.
When the Death Eaters attacked Hogwarts, the dragons had fought alongside them. The most aggressive of them all, the Hungarian Horntail, had contributed the most—spewing dragonfire from the start to the end of the battle, single-handedly wiping out an entire team of Death Eaters.
It had even received a "Special Award for Services to the School," personally presented by Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.
There's still a dragon-shaped trophy sitting in the school's Trophy Room to this day—the only one of its kind.
As for the Centaurs? They stayed hidden in the Forbidden Forest from the beginning of the war and never showed up... or rather, to be precise, they finally came out near the end and fired a volley of arrows—as a symbolic gesture of support.
Maybe one of them had divined the outcome of the war and decided they should get involved after all.
But one group was there from the beginning, while the other only appeared at the end... In that kind of situation, it was pretty obvious which side Hogwarts would favor.
Headmistress McGonagall certainly wouldn't drive the Centaurs out of the Forbidden Forest—after all, technically speaking, the Forbidden Forest was independent and didn't belong to Hogwarts.
But she also wouldn't refuse to let another magical creature live there. As for territory or airspace disputes... since the forest wasn't part of Hogwarts, it wasn't her problem.
So whenever the Centaurs stormed in, indignant and demanding answers, McGonagall would simply shrug and tell them to take it up with the Ministry of Magic.
She even helpfully gave them a reason to report: illegal dragon breeding.
At first, the Centaurs actually did go—but Kyle had an official dragon-breeding license issued by the reserve, and the Ministry had no authority to interfere.
And once even the Ministry wouldn't get involved, there was nothing the school could do either.
By now, Kyle had already removed most of the Alchemical Fog, leaving only the outermost layer near the castle.
After all, students still needed to attend classes. If they suddenly saw a dragon taking flight nearby, it'd be hard not to get distracted.
Hagrid was a frequent visitor, dropping by almost every day and often bringing things for Kyle.
Unicorn hairs, Salamander tails, Augurey feathers—things he picked up while patrolling the Forbidden Forest.
He'd done this sort of thing before, but back then, they weren't much use. At most, Hagrid might use the unicorn hairs to weave a mat or patch a bedsheet.
But now that the school offered Alchemy classes, these items had become highly useful. Hagrid started bringing an empty bag with him every time he entered the forest, only returning after he'd filled it to the brim.
And this steady stream of materials had continued for several months.
That day, as usual, Hagrid handed Kyle a full bag and asked, "Quidditch match's coming up soon, eh? Who d'you reckon'll win this time?"
"Gryffindor, of course," Kyle blurted out. "Every single player on this team—no matter who—can't compare to Ginny."
"Put it this way: as long as Gryffindor can drag the game out for more than half an hour, even if their Seeker takes a nap midway, they'll still win."
Ginny played Chaser on the team, and at this point she was just like Kyle had been back in the day—charging forward with the Quaffle, unstoppable and untouchable.
Back then, at least he'd had worthy opponents—Harry and his Firebolt had been a real headache. But Ginny? She didn't even have that.
Neither Ravenclaw nor Hufflepuff had any standout players, and even Slytherin's notorious "boxing squad" had started playing by the rules.
Which wasn't too surprising—after the war, Slytherin had taken quite a lot of heat. If they didn't keep a low profile now, they'd be asking for trouble.
All things considered, this year's Quidditch Cup was shaping up to be Ginny's personal scoring showcase.
"You've got a point," Hagrid nodded. "Every single one of the Weasleys is ridiculously talented. Even the most mischievous—Fred and George—ended up building something really impressive."
"I've been to their shop—it's brilliant... would've been even better if that plate hadn't tried to bite me." Hagrid instinctively rubbed his beard.
"Want me to save you two seats?" he offered. "Though they probably won't be too close to the front."
"No need," Kyle shook his head. "Kanna's new dress robes just arrived. We're planning to visit Shell Cottage together this weekend."
"Dress robes?"
"For the Longbottoms' Christmas dinner," Kyle said.
"Oh, right!" Hagrid slapped his arm.
"Neville sent me an invitation a few days ago. I'm still not sure if I should go… You know, a lot of wizards don't exactly welcome half-giants."
"Neville invited you?"
"No, Frank did. He sent the invitation on behalf of the Longbottom family," Hagrid said cheerfully. "I'm really glad he's come back to himself… You're incredible, Kyle—truly."
Kyle didn't respond.
He was genuinely a bit surprised that Frank Longbottom had invited Hagrid to the Christmas dinner.
It was true that many wizards wanted nothing to do with anything giant-related, so usually only people who were particularly close to Hagrid would think to invite him to formal events like this.
Frank and Hagrid had both been in the Order of the Phoenix, so a close relationship made sense. What Kyle hadn't expected was that none of the other Longbottoms had objected.
"Let's go together, then," Kyle said. "Do you need dress robes? I heard there's a shop in France that's made formal robes for giants before. I can ask Fleur to check for you."
"No need," Hagrid waved it off. "That dragon-hide coat you gave me last time is perfect. I've never worn it, actually."
As he said this, Hagrid glanced instinctively at the Horntail flying overhead.
The main issue was that whenever he wore that dragon-hide coat, the Horntail would mistake him for one of its own.
And when a Horntail meets one of its own, well... let's just say it doesn't have the best manners. Hagrid had experienced that once—and the memory was still very fresh.
Seeing that Hagrid had made up his mind, Kyle let it be.
...
By the time the weekend arrived, Kyle and Kanna had eaten breakfast early. Then, while the other students were still wrapped up in their Quidditch discussions, they Disapparated from Hogsmeade to Cornwall.
"I still don't get it…"
Staring out at the endless stretch of sand and scattered rocks, Kyle frowned slightly. "What's supposed to be romantic about a place like this?"
"I don't get it either," Kanna said. "Maybe we just don't understand... I mean, Bill and Fleur are both a bit unconventional."
She remembered the first time she saw Bill.
His appearance had stood out completely from those around him—long hair tied back in a ponytail, fan-shaped earrings, and dragon-hide boots that made him look like something straight out of a Muggle western.
She couldn't help but imagine what Kyle would look like dressed the same way...
Hmm... actually, it might suit him. And she'd never seen Kyle with long hair before.
Kanna stared at Kyle's face, her mind wandering. Then suddenly, she couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh.
"What are you laughing at?"
"No, nothing, really." Kanna blushed and shook her head quickly.
"You're acting strange." Kyle didn't press the issue and continued, "Anyway, if it were up to me, I definitely wouldn't choose to live somewhere so remote that even owls refuse to come."
"Then where would you choose to live?"
A cold, emotionless voice came from behind him.
"Dorset's not bad… Devon's great too. Of course, it'd depend on what you want, or we could just talk it over and pick somewhere we both like..."
Kyle trailed off mid-sentence, suddenly realizing that the question hadn't come from Kanna.
When he turned around, he was met with Fleur's face—somewhere between angry and amused, a mix of expressions battling it out across her features.
And next to her was Bill, grinning and winking like mad.
"You two are here?" Kyle asked.
"I should say thank goodness I came," Fleur said in a deliberately drawn-out tone. "Otherwise I wouldn't have known just how little you think of our Shell Cottage."
"Seriously though, are you really a wizard? Or do you just not believe in Apparition, the Floo Network, or Portkeys?"
"Come on, I never said there was anything wrong with Shell Cottage," Kyle said quickly. "And besides, we Apparated here—how's that not wizardly?"
"Yet you just said owls don't even come here."
"Well, they don't… Fine, I just meant—don't you get tired of looking at rocks all day?"
"Do you get tired of looking at Kanna every day?" Fleur shot back.
Kyle didn't hesitate. "No."
"Me neither!" she said smugly, planting a kiss on Bill's cheek.
"…"
Kyle felt like he'd just been kicked in the stomach and wasn't allowed to complain about it.
He was just making a passing comment about the place being a bit remote!
Fleur raised her brows in triumph, then grabbed Kanna—who had been about to defend Kyle—and spun around.
"Don't mind him. Come with me, that shop has some gorgeous robes."
Kanna was whisked away.
Bill stepped forward and clapped Kyle on the shoulder.
"Sorry. Fleur… well, she didn't really mean it."
"It's fine, I get it." Kyle waved it off. "Besides, I did bring up the place first."
"So, are you really thinking of settling in Dorset?" Bill asked with curiosity. "I heard the wizards there aren't exactly the friendliest. Or is this something you and Diggory planned?"
He remembered Kyle, Fred, George, and Cedric Diggory from the other side of the village being thick as thieves back at school.
"No, nothing's set in stone," Kyle replied. "Just an idea. I don't really know what the wizards in Dorset are like, but there's an interesting neighbor down there—it'd definitely make things more exciting... though you'd need a bit of nerve to live nearby."
"Nerve?" Bill frowned, trying to work out what that meant.
Who would you need nerve to live next to… Surely not a Death Eater?
"Anyway, did you get an invitation from the Longbottoms?" Kyle asked, clearly trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.
"My mum got one," Bill said easily, not the type to pry. "The invite was for the whole family. Fleur and I will be going."
...
The two of them continued chatting as they walked toward Shell Cottage.
True to its name, the house really did resemble a giant shell from a distance—and it was surprisingly beautiful.