After leaving the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, Kyle didn't head straight back to the Hufflepuff common room. Instead, while walking along the second floor, he made a detour into an empty classroom. The room was dimly lit, and the faint murmur of voices greeted him as soon as he stepped inside.
"What's up..." Kyle said, shutting the door behind him.
Kanna approached him first, followed by Cedric, Cho, and the Weasley twins, Fred and George.
"It's done," Kyle announced, gesturing broadly. "You can safely teach yourselves Defence Against the Dark Arts now. Just be careful not to get caught."
"Great!" Cedric said, his excitement evident. "We've already worked out a plan. To avoid anyone snitching, everyone will have to sign a magical contract before they're told the location of the Room of Requirement."
"Well done, Kyle," Fred said, grinning from ear to ear. "You fooled Umbridge so easily. Honestly, you deserve to be the youngest recipient of the Order of Merlin."
Kyle rolled his eyes, feeling the praise was a bit much. He didn't see how tricking Umbridge was related to earning such a prestigious award.
"But..." George cut in, rubbing his bruised eye. "You might've gone a bit overboard. If we don't get to the Hospital Wing soon, we'll have to walk around like this for at least a week."
"Seriously, it's humiliating," Fred sighed dramatically. "We're avoiding crowded places now."
"And even in class, we have to hide our faces," George added.
"You're the ones who said a little injury would make it more convincing," Kyle said with a smirk. "Turns out you were right. Umbridge believed me because of how you both look."
"We were talking about you!" George muttered irritably. "Think about it—the news you 'risked your life' for suddenly becomes a lot more believable when it comes at such a cost."
"Never mind," Kyle said, shrugging. "The outcome's good, and that's all that matters. Besides, can you really blame me for how badly the three of you got beaten? One against three, and you still lost?"
"It was two against one!" George corrected indignantly. "That traitor Cedric just stood there watching! Didn't lift a finger to help..."
"Traitor?" Cedric echoed, looking confused. "How does this have anything to do with me? I'm a Hufflepuff, remember? Even if we're just acting, I can't exactly help people from other Houses beat up my own."
Besides, Cedric thought, even if he had jumped in, it wouldn't have changed much. He'd just have ended up with a black eye himself. It was better this way—two injured were better than three. Still, knowing Fred and George were in a foul mood, Cedric wisely kept his thoughts to himself.
Kyle ignored their bickering and turned to Cedric. "Have you decided on a time? When are you starting?"
"Wednesday night," Cedric replied. "I thought about holding it on the weekend, but everyone seems to have other priorities—Quidditch practice, favorite clubs, that sort of thing. Wednesday is the only time we can all slip away."
"Just remember to split up," Kyle warned. "Gryffindor and Ravenclaw won't draw much attention, but a bunch of Hufflepuff students suddenly heading up to the eighth floor would look suspicious."
"Any ideas?" Cedric asked.
"You could try the kitchens," Kyle suggested. "Ask one of the House-elves for help."
"House-elves?" Cedric repeated, intrigued.
"Exactly," Kyle explained. "House-elves can use Apparition even inside Hogwarts. They could take you directly from the kitchens to the eighth floor and back again."
Cedric's face brightened. "That's brilliant! I can't believe I forgot about that. The only question is whether they'd agree to it. After all, almost no one's ever seen them use magic here."
"It's worth a shot," Kyle said. "It's only once a week, not an everyday thing. I doubt they'd mind."
"You're right," Cedric agreed with a nod.
After hashing out the rest of the details, the group dispersed. Kyle and Kanna headed back toward the Hufflepuff common room, while Cedric accompanied Fred and George upstairs.
Cedric had a few loose ends to tie up. He planned to find Hermione and Harry next to iron out additional specifics—things like the timing, the terms of the magical contract, and the content of their Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons.
...
Being a professor for the first time—even if it was only nominal—made Cedric extremely nervous. As Wednesday approached, his anxiety became more apparent.
Even during Quidditch practice the next day, he seemed distracted. Several times, Kyle spotted the Golden Snitch zipping past, but Cedric remained motionless, staring blankly into the distance, lost in thought.
Kyle, handling a Firebolt with practiced ease, spun through the air and snatched the Golden Snidget effortlessly. Normally, as a Chaser, it wasn't his role to catch the Snitch, but the other players didn't seem to mind—in fact, they looked relieved.
They had been flying for two hours.
Practice, typically lively and varied with new tactics, had become a tedious slog. With Cedric failing to catch the Snidget or call for any strategy changes, the players were left aimlessly throwing the Quaffle through the goalposts. The monotony felt more like completing an endless essay for History of Magic than playing Quidditch.
This kind of training was pointless.
"Oh, sorry, Kyle," Cedric said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head as they landed. "I was daydreaming again. I just can't stop thinking about tomorrow night."
"What's bothering you?" Kyle asked, walking alongside him as they returned to the castle with the rest of the team.
"I don't know if I've prepared enough," Cedric admitted. "What if I can't answer everyone's questions? Just thinking about it makes it hard to focus."
"Relax," Kyle said, slinging the Firebolt over his shoulder. "It's just an after-school tutorial. It's not as scary as you're making it out to be."
"I know that," Cedric sighed, "but I can't help it. Every time I have a quiet moment, I start worrying. What if I mess up? What if no one comes back for the next session?"
"You should take a page out of Harry's book," Kyle said with a grin. "He doesn't seem nervous at all. And as for people coming back, you don't need to stress—unless, of course, you're a worse teacher than Umbridge. And honestly, that would take some effort."
"You're right," Cedric said, managing a small smile. "I've never met a worse professor than Umbridge."
By the time they reached the castle, it was nearly curfew. As they entered the foyer, they spotted Filch descending the stairs. The caretaker's face immediately twisted into a sour expression when he saw their muddy practice gear.
"You…" Filch began, glancing suspiciously at the floor to check for footprints. Finding none, he quickly adjusted his tone. "Wandering about so late—are you planning a little night tour?"
"Mr. Filch, we just got back from training," Cedric said calmly.
"You'd better be," Filch sneered. "Because if I catch you up to anything else, I'm sure Professor Umbridge wouldn't mind me dragging you down to the dungeons."
His lips curled into a smug grin. "After all these years, the school finally has a professor who knows what she's doing…"
Cedric frowned as Filch shuffled past. Leaning closer to Kyle, he muttered, "Filch is getting annoying again."
"Yeah," Kyle said dryly. "Because someone's backing him up now."
Umbridge's arrival had emboldened Filch. With her seemingly aligned views—at least on the surface—Filch had found an unexpected ally. His loyalty to Snape, once the source of many of his threats, had quickly shifted. Where he used to terrify students by threatening to report them to Snape, he now leaned on Umbridge's authority.
Umbridge, much to Filch's delight, shared his harsh views on punishment, implementing rules more severe than those enforced by any other professor. She wielded enough power to change the school's policies at will, which only made Filch more self-assured. He patrolled the castle with a renewed zeal, eager to catch students breaking the rules.
In his mind, if he caught enough offenders, it might justify reopening the long-unused dungeons.
"What a nuisance..." someone muttered under their breath once Filch was out of earshot.
"And that horrible Umbridge..." another voice added in a hushed tone.
"Shh! Keep it down," someone else warned. "You don't want to be overheard."
The group quickly fell silent, but their sentiments were clear. While Filch had always been unpleasant, his behavior earlier in the year—before Umbridge arrived—had been tolerable in comparison. Now, with Umbridge backing him, he was becoming insufferable.