Chapter 957: Chapter 957: Kanna’s Shopping Guide
"I think a hundred Galleons is a perfectly reasonable price."
Just as Kyle said this, Madam Rosmerta arrived with a glass of mead and two freshly poured Butterbeers.
She couldn’t help but feel surprised as she looked at the three of them chatting together.
Kyle was no stranger to Madam Rosmerta. Long before he graduated, this young wizard had already been seen here talking with some of the most well-known names in the magical world.
First and foremost, there was Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. That one needed no explanation—most witches and wizards already knew Kyle was considered one of Dumbledore’s most gifted students.
Then there was Cornelius Fudge, the former Minister of Magic, who had favored him so highly that he defied public opinion and appointed Kyle—still a student at the time—as the youngest Senior Undersecretary in Ministry history.
That appointment caused quite a stir. Many believed it was Fudge’s way of trying to win back Dumbledore’s favor, after their very public falling-out over whether Voldemort had returned.
Most speculated Fudge had come to realize the truth and was looking for a way to repair the relationship.
Kyle was the perfect opening.
Of course, those were just the drunken theories of barflies. And Madam Rosmerta, for one, didn’t believe for a second that someone as arrogant as Fudge would ever humble himself to Dumbledore in that way.
Still, over the years, she’d overheard enough snippets from professors and patrons alike to understand Kyle’s extraordinary talent better than most.
But even she hadn’t expected to see him drinking so comfortably with Director Sykes—the famously reclusive head of St. Mungo’s, who was rarely ever seen in public.
That was truly astonishing.
As she approached, Kyle took the tray from her hands.
The Butterbeer was for him and Kanna. As for the mead... Kyle gave the glass a glance, then shook his head lightly and pulled a plain, unlabeled glass bottle from his pouch.
"Director Sykes, if you enjoy mead, then you absolutely have to try this."
At those words, Madam Rosmerta instinctively looked over, narrowing her eyes in quiet outrage.
What kind of taste does he have...
She had just brought out her finest vintage oak-barrel mead—the kind even old Slughorn had begged her for dozens of times, without success.
And Kyle had the nerve to pull out... that? A plain bottle, no label, and the color even looked a little off. That was supposed to be the good stuff?
But Sykes didn’t seem to mind at all. Lost in her own thoughts, she absentmindedly pulled the cork and poured herself a glass.
At once, a rich, full-bodied scent of mead began to fill The Three Broomsticks.
"By Merlin’s beard..." Madam Rosmerta blurted. "That oak-aged aroma... don’t tell me you found one of Hogwarts’ secret wine cellars?"
Even Sykes looked mildly surprised. After a small sip, she immediately refilled her glass. Then, as though something had occurred to her, she furrowed her brow.
But she soon shook her head, brushing the thought aside, and returned to her silent contemplation.
Madam Rosmerta, however, wasn’t nearly so composed. She cast a glance at the silent Director Sykes, hesitated for a moment, then quietly returned to the bar without saying a word.
A few more minutes passed before Sykes finally looked up.
She seemed to have made her decision. With a faint smile, she extended her wrinkled hand.
"Then it’s settled."
"I’ll buy the Basilisk—one Galleon a year, until all one hundred are paid."
"You’re getting quite the bargain," Kyle said as he reached out and shook her hand.
And just like that, he was officially parting ways with the Basilisk. Pretending it didn’t sting would be a lie.
That creature had been a gift from Salazar Slytherin himself—something he’d named specifically for Kyle. Out of all the magical beasts Kyle had encountered, the Basilisk had been the most powerful ally.
Take Godric’s Hollow, for instance. Not even six dragons could’ve done what the Basilisk had.
But in order to ensure Voldemort’s complete destruction... there’d been no other option.
There was also another reason. As long as the Basilisk was alive, there was no guarantee Grindelwald wouldn’t take an interest in it. A creature like that was the ultimate status symbol for a Dark wizard—easily on par with an Obscurus.
Even if he didn’t need to use it, simply possessing one was a mark of power.
And if Grindelwald decided to seize it, Kyle wouldn’t have stood a chance.
No—this was for the best.
Kyle silently consoled himself. At the very least, now no one had to worry about the Basilisk bursting out of his trunk and attacking Hogwarts students again.
"What, getting sentimental?" Sykes looked at the visibly conflicted Kyle with a hint of amusement.
"No." Kyle shook his head and placed his suitcase on the table. "It’s in here. Do you want to take it now?"
"No rush. I don’t have a container large enough. You can help deliver it later," Sykes said with a wave of her hand.
"No problem. Consider it part of the after-sale service—guaranteed delivery to the designated location." Kyle forced a smile.
"Of course, I wouldn’t let you lose out," Sykes continued. "Over the next hundred years, I will—"
"No, forget it." Kyle suddenly interrupted. "I’ve changed my mind. Let’s just do a one-time payment. One hundred Galleons."
"Oh?" Sykes looked at him, clearly surprised. "Why the change?"
"I admit, I may have had some other intentions before... like using the Basilisk to gain favor with St. Mungo’s, or perhaps with you, Director," Kyle said honestly.
"And so what?" Sykes replied, unfazed.
"Nothing really. I just realized it wasn’t necessary."
Kyle took a big gulp of Butterbeer, frowned slightly, and said, "Besides, I suddenly felt like I was acting like the Minister for Magic just now. That’s not good."
"Pfft..." Kanna couldn’t hold back a laugh.
Even Sykes cracked a rare smile. "Good thing Amelia isn’t here. From what you’re saying, is being the Minister for Magic a bad thing?"
"It’s not about that. It’s just not something I want," Kyle shrugged. "So, let’s settle it. One hundred Galleons, paid in full."
"I don’t agree."
Sykes looked at him and gently shook her head, turning down his offer.
"Truthfully, I feel the same as you," she said, pouring herself another glass of mead. "Because neither St. Mungo’s nor I could afford an entire Basilisk."
"You can’t even pay a hundred Galleons?"
"I mean its true worth—without the ’friendship’ factored in," Sykes replied. "So even if you hadn’t said that, I’d probably still have shamelessly relied on ’friendship’ to make up for most of the Galleons."
"I agree with you that one hundred Galleons is a reasonable price. I just didn’t expect my friendship to be worth quite so much... Oh, and here."
Sykes took out a single gold Galleon and placed it on the table.
Kyle was silent for a moment, then let out a small laugh and casually handed the coin to Kanna.
"Help me keep track—Director Sykes still owes us ninety-nine Galleons. If she doesn’t pay next year, we’ll report her to the Ministry."
Kanna blinked, a little slow to react. She looked at Kyle, then at Sykes.
"Well? Don’t just stand there. I really do like the Basilisk. Don’t let Kyle change his mind," Sykes said with a grin.
Kanna gave a helpless laugh and finally accepted the Galleon.
Sykes seemed to be in an excellent mood. In such a short time, she’d already finished half a bottle of mead.
"I used to love this stuff when I was younger. But later I realized it affected my judgment when it came to potion-making, so I started drinking it less."
She took another small sip and pursed her lips thoughtfully. "But this flavor... you didn’t actually find Hogwarts’ hidden wine cellar, did you?"
"More or less," Kyle said casually. "It’s just mead brewed by Helga Hufflepuff a thousand years ago. Nothing special."
"I thought so..."
"You thought so?" Kyle blinked in surprise.
He had a feeling Sykes already knew where the mead came from...
That shouldn’t be possible. She wasn’t supposed to know about Hufflepuff’s Cup. Unless Dumbledore told her?
"It’s the taste of the honey," Sykes explained, as if she’d sensed his confusion. "I once received a rare gift—a small vial of honey from a thousand years ago."
"I tried using it to replace amaranth petals and lemon juice in a unique Felix Felicis brew. I tested it myself. That flavor... it was completely unlike the honey we have now."
At that, Kanna’s interest was immediately piqued—though not by the mead.
"Really? Director Sykes, honey can actually replace amaranth petals?" she asked eagerly.
"Absolutely. And with excellent results," Sykes replied, eyeing the bright-eyed young witch. "Preliminary testing showed that the duration of Felix Felicis was extended by twenty percent. More importantly, its effects taper off gradually before ending, which helps the drinker adapt more easily to the come-down."
As she spoke, Kanna was already deep in thought.
"You don’t need to remember those," Sykes went on. "It’s probably due to the type—only honey from a thousand years ago will work. I’ve tried modern honey. It still works, but it greatly diminishes the effectiveness of Felix Felicis."
"I see..." Kanna looked a little disappointed.
Sykes glanced at her. "Have you already started brewing Felix Felicis?"
"No, I’m still preparing," Kanna shook her head. "Brewing Felix Felicis takes a long time, and right now I’d rather focus on learning some specialized healing potions."
"If you’re interested in antidotes or dark magic neutralizers, I actually have a few special tricks I could share with you."
"Of course—I mean, I’d love that..."
Kyle glanced at the two, who had suddenly grown quite familiar with each other. He silently shifted over to give them space and took a sip of Butterbeer.
For quite a while after that, it was as if Kyle didn’t even exist. He simply sat there listening to a steady stream of potion ingredients being named.
At first, it was all fairly standard—ingredients and potion lore. But then, at some point, the conversation expanded to types of cauldrons and grinding techniques.
By the time he finished his third Butterbeer, he still hadn’t found an opportunity to say a single word.
It wasn’t until noon that the two finally wrapped up their discussion, still looking like they could keep going.
And only because Sykes needed to return and stir her cauldron, which forced her to end the conversation.
They parted ways at the door of The Three Broomsticks. Kanna decided to stay, while Kyle accompanied Sykes back to St. Mungo’s and dropped off the Basilisk.
When he returned, he found a Self-Writing Quill floating in front of Kanna, quickly recording notes from their earlier conversation.
"How was it?"
"Really productive. Director Sykes recommended a fantastic shop," Kanna said excitedly. "She told me there’s a half-wizard village in Suffolk County where the potions they sell are far better than the ones in Diagon Alley."
"And in St. Catchpole Village, they sell higher-quality cauldrons... I remember you live there, don’t you? Why didn’t you ever tell me that?"
There was a clear hint of accusation in her tone.
Kyle blinked, a little confused.
St. Catchpole Village... do they sell cauldrons there?
Maybe? As a village where many witches and wizards lived, it would make sense for there to be some specialty shops. Most of those places would be protected by Muggle-Repelling Charms—only accessible to magical folk.
But truthfully, Kyle hadn’t lied to Kanna. He genuinely didn’t know. He had absolutely no memory of anything like that. After all, whenever he needed to buy something, he almost always went straight to Diagon Alley.
It had everything. The convenience alone made it the obvious choice.
It wasn’t far either—a short walk to The Burrow, hop into the Floo Network, and in the blink of an eye, you were there.
The Weasleys did the same. Kyle had never once heard them mention shopping in the village. It was always Diagon Alley.
Maybe families like the Lovegoods, who didn’t have a fireplace connected to the Floo Network, would shop locally out of necessity.
But cauldrons? Kyle really had no clue. He only vaguely remembered that Percy had been weirdly obsessed with them for a while.
"I’ll write home and ask. If there really is a place selling cauldrons..." On the way back to Hogwarts, Kyle couldn’t help asking, "But is that all you two talked about?"
Good potion ingredient shops, better cauldrons... even robes that were more comfortable for brewing potions.
It wasn’t exactly what he’d imagined.
If two potion enthusiasts got together, shouldn’t they be talking about refining potion formulas or enhancing their effects?
Like they had been at the start.
But from Kanna’s description, Kyle couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d just walked through a potion-brewer’s personal shopping guide...
"I learned most of my potion-making from Uncle Severus," Kanna explained. "So even though Director Sykes is also a master of potions, not all of her methods suit me."
"But what really impressed me was her practical experience. I had no idea there were so many great places in Britain—some of them even sell restricted ingredients through regular channels."