The usual adult nonsense definitely wouldn't fool Kael, but it wasn't a total loss—at least it scared Ron and Ginny out of their wits.
Especially Ron. At first, he was pretty interested in this topic, listening eagerly, hoping to pick up some tips for next year's start at Hogwarts.
But the longer he listened, the worse his face looked.
Trolls, ghosts, Hippogriffs—those he could handle; as outrageous as it sounded, he figured he could just run for it if needed, and maybe survive. After all, Hogwarts professors weren't just for show.
But Fire Dragons? What the heck?
XXXXX-level Fantastic Beasts—even Adult Wizards may not walk away from that one, let alone an eleven-year-old Young Wizard. The professors' Charms probably wouldn't even get halfway out of their mouths before he got sneezed into ashes.
This is school? Seriously?
Ron was desperate, so much so that he actually considered running away from home. He didn't want to go to Hogwarts, really didn't, he just wanted to stay alive!
Ginny wasn't much better off.
Her little face was pale as a sheet, and her gorgeous red hair had lost its shine.
"What's wrong, Ginny?"
Kael, sitting across from her, noticed and asked with concern, "Why aren't you eating? Are you feeling sick?"
"N-no, I'm fine."
Ginny obviously didn't want to admit to the family that she was scared, so when Kael looked her way, she quickly shook her head and said, "I'm just full, that's all."
A nine-year-old girl doesn't have much of an appetite, and Ginny had already eaten half a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean earlier, so she really was about done.
About eighty percent full, right in that "could eat, could not" zone, but the sudden Sorting topic had zapped what little appetite she had left.
"Oh, that's a shame,"
Kael didn't mind at all. He just stood up calmly and scooped Ginny's untouched grilled fish onto his own plate.
Grilled fish isn't like some foods—it loses its flavor if it sits too long, and that would be a waste. Better to enjoy it himself.
Also worth mentioning, Mrs. Weasley's grilled fish skills are top-notch—her secret weapon.
But since she has to look after the whole clan and picking out fish bones is a pain, you only get to taste her masterpiece on important holidays.
Of course, part of the reason is fish is expensive in the Magic Realm.
But whatever the reason, Kael had been craving it for ages, so there's no way he'd let this treat go to waste.
Ginny knew this too, but she didn't try to stop him.
She'd wanted to save her grilled fish for the end, enjoy it slowly—but after learning she'd face Fire Dragons in two years, there was no mood for eating. All she could do was watch with heartache as Kael stuffed her fish into his mouth.
Finally, she just turned away—out of sight, out of mind.
Meanwhile, Fred and George both sighed in unison.
They'd been eyeing that grilled fish for ages too, but Kael's quick moves shut them out entirely.
The frustrated twins turned their gazes to Ron.
Sadly, Ron didn't have Ginny's habit. His grilled fish had long been reduced to bones, and cleaned so thoroughly that even a Flobberworm would slip off.
"What's up, Ron? Scared of the Fire Dragon?" Fred squinted, hiding his true intentions while tossing in a rare bit of concern, patting Ron's shoulder as he comforted him, "Don't worry, the Fire Dragon only lasts a year. By the time you start, it'll probably be some other Fantastic Beast."
"My guess is spiders," George jumped in, "I've seen a bunch in the Forbidden Forest, all about the size of Gnomes. Maybe Hagrid's prepping them for the Sorting Ceremony."
"No!"
Ron completely lost it. Panic shot up in his eyes, he threw down his utensils, and yelled all the way back to the Shabby Residence.
Clearly, Ron was absolutely terrified, so much so he didn't even notice how wickedly the twins were laughing at his retreat.
The twins didn't get off scot-free, though.
"George, what were you doing in the Forbidden Forest?"
Mrs. Weasley quickly spotted the real problem, looking at the twins with her sternest face: "I don't recall Hogwarts letting first-years into the Forbidden Forest."
"Mum, I can explain…"
Fred and George tried to escape, but as fresh second-years they were nowhere near Mrs. Weasley's match. She caught them in no time.
And then—cue the classic mother's wrath versus kids drama.
Even though this had played out a million times in the past eleven years, Kael still watched with glee—his appetite even picked up.
Kael never doubted the twins had been to the Forbidden Forest, but the spider story was most likely made up to spook Ron—though it turned out to hit unusually close to home.
After all, the Eight-eyed Giant Spiders in the Forbidden Forest aren't exactly cute and cuddly. If the twins had really met them, they'd probably be living there by now.
Plus, Kael remembered their nest was deep in the Forbidden Forest—Fred and George couldn't get that far.
The twins aren't Harry Potter, after all—they're into pranks, not playing with death.
About twenty minutes later, dinner wrapped up. A little drama along the way, but overall, everyone had a blast.
At least Kael did.
After a quick cleanup, Percy headed upstairs to revise his homework.
Ron, still carrying a little bundle in his failed attempt to run away, had been caught to replace the twins' spot, now chased all around the yard by Mrs. Weasley.
Mr. Weasley and Chris moved to a new spot to continue their chat.
"Chris, you really laid it on thick back there."
Inside the Shabby Residence, Mr. Weasley sighed regretfully, "It's just the Sorting—there's no way there would be Fire Dragons. Little Kael's so smart, he must've known we were bluffing."
"No, Arthur, you're wrong. This plan was doomed from the start,"
Chris shook his head, a bit exasperated, "Kael's been spending at least two months a year with Mr. Scamander since turning three. Do you really think he'd be afraid of Trolls and Hippogriffs?"
"Also, Arthur, did you forget Kael's surname is Chopper, too?"
"Er…" Mr. Weasley was instantly stumped, scratching his head in awkward silence, "You mean he can also communicate with Fantastic Beasts like you?"
"Of course." Chris nodded, "That's why there's no way he'd be scared of Hippogriffs—maybe only a Fire Dragon could make him nervous."
Mr. Weasley glanced at Chris, a bit envious, "What an amazing gift! Wish I could communicate with those Muggle items, too."
"???"
Chris was momentarily speechless, forcing a laugh, "It's really not as over-the-top as you think. This talent only works with Fantastic Beasts—not regular animals like mice, toads, or owls. You have to guess what they mean based on experience."
Chris's meaning was clear—even if Mr. Weasley someday pulled off some bizarre Magic to change his last name to Chopper, he'd only get to chat with things like Floo Powder or Golden Snitch.
As for breadmakers or cars… just forget it. Not happening. Don't even think about it!