A box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Kael gave one to Ron, ate one himself, and handed the rest to Ginny.
The little girl hugged the box and thought for a moment, then scurried over to Kael, hoping he'd help her pick—at least weed out the ones that tasted like Dragon Dung.
Kael totally understood Ginny's request, and then decisively refused.
You gotta try new things when you're young, after all.
Besides, what's the whole Bertie Bott's ad about?—Every bite is a brand new adventure, that's really the spirit of Multi-Flavor Beans.
No surprises, and what's the point of calling them Bertie Bott's? No, that's just candy beans.
So honestly, it's not that he's being lazy—it's all for Ginny's own good.
After playing a little longer on the lawn, Mrs. Weasley's familiar voice finally floated over from the Shabby Residence—dinner was ready.
The crowd, already starving, immediately tossed aside their sticks and started walking back in groups.
Kael strolled at the front, Ron trailing close behind—only to get rudely shoved aside by the twins rushing in out of nowhere before he'd barely walked two steps.
Caught off guard, Ron nearly toppled headfirst into a nearby gnome hole, which absolutely infuriated him. He shot Fred and George a glare that practically screamed, "Apologize or I'm coming over to bite you!"
Ron was probably dead serious, but unfortunately he'd get nowhere—because Fred and George had their eyes glued to Kael the whole time, never even glancing at Ron, so obviously they had no idea how he was feeling.
And honestly, even if they did know, they'd never care anyway—bullying their little brother? Been doing it forever, they know the routine by heart.
Ron was huffing and puffing like a little fire dragon right now, but unless he wanted a beating, he wouldn't really charge at them. And give it a few days, a bit of leftover snacks, and boom—the whole thing's perfectly resolved.
Back to brotherly love, family harmony, all the warm fuzzies.
So the real priority now—solving the Kael situation.
The incident at Diagon Alley was the twins' biggest humiliation yet, and they've been itching to get their revenge ever since—but Kael hadn't set foot outside these past few days, giving them zero chances to strike back.
But if they went to find him on purpose, it'd totally look suspicious and alert Kael anyway. So Fred and George had to suppress their thirst for revenge for now—they needed the right opportunity.
Like, say, right now.
With Chris and Kael around, dinner in the room was getting a bit crowded, so Mrs. Weasley decided to set the table out in the yard.
When Kael casually took his usual seat, Fred shot him a meaningful look, then hurried over and plopped down next to him.
George didn't actually know what Fred was planning, but with their legendary twin telepathy, he immediately took the seat on Kael's other side.
"Hmm?" Kael was surprised—this was the first time he'd seen the twins sit apart from each other.
Kael arched his brow and said, "The two of you are up to no good, huh?"
The twins had made their intentions hilariously obvious—if Kael didn't notice, he'd have to be completely clueless.
Still, since he had no clue what trick they were planning, Kael kept his cool, pretending nothing was amiss as he helped Mrs. Weasley lay out the plates.
Soft, crispy little bread rolls, fluffy roasted potatoes, fragrant roast chicken dripping with juices, golden fried chicken bites, and succulent veal steaks…
Old familiar faces, but honestly, a feast by anyone's standards.
Of course, Kael never expected any fancy dishes here—he just hoped the Hogwarts house-elves might surprise him sometime.
Not asking for Chinese, French will do. Pasta or pizza would be fine too.
When the last plate landed on the table, everyone took their seats and dinner officially began.
Kael stayed extra cautious, worried he might accidentally eat something weird.
He really didn't want to suffer public embarrassment.
...
With Kael on high alert, nothing happened.
The twins acted totally normal—stuffing their faces, cracking jokes, entertaining everyone just like usual.
Until halfway through dinner, when the table was at its liveliest.
Fred, after finishing a joke about some greasy-haired Slytherin, suddenly remembered something and turned to say, "Hey George, Kael's off to Hogwarts tomorrow—shouldn't we give him a little help? Maybe tell him some house sorting tips, since that's pretty dangerous after all."
George caught on instantly, fake-thinking for a bit (actually just struggling to swallow a bite of steak), then played along, "Honestly Fred, I don't think it's necessary. We have to trust Kael—he's awesome. It's just an adult troll, Kael'll definitely beat it and breeze through the sorting."
"I think you're right, George," Fred nodded seriously. "And proud Kael Chopper would never care about our advice—he won't even call us upperclassmen."
Fred's plan was simple: before Kael officially starts school, freak him out over the Sorting Ceremony, and if they can make him lose sleep tonight, all the better.
And right now, in front of everyone, their prank wouldn't be stopped—in fact, they'd get backup from the crowd. Absolutely perfect.
Fred grinned triumphantly at Kael—Diagon Alley, payback time.
...
Just as Fred predicted, their conversation instantly grabbed the nearby adults' attention, with everyone joining in.
Sorting new students—an old tradition among the graduated wizards of the British Magical Realm, who love to mess with each new batch of young wizards with the same story over and over.
This time, Kael's turn had come.
"Sweetheart, don't believe them." Mrs. Weasley put her foot down first. She "sternly" scolded the twins, then turned to Kael: "It's not scary at all, just a test by a bunch of ghosts—not dangerous whatsoever."
"Molly, how could you lie to the kid?" Mr. Weasley wasn't about to fall behind. He struggled to keep a straight face, glared at his wife, and said, "Kael's a great kid—we can totally tell him the truth. I'm sure he can tame a Hippogriff all by himself."
"Hippogriff? Wasn't it a fire dragon?"
Chris paused for a second, then declared firmly to Kael, "Son, trust your dad on this—it'll definitely be a Fire Dragon. And from my research, this year's is probably a Hungarian Horntail."
...
"Oh, that's how it is."
"Right, I can do that."
"I believe you, Dad."
Like a little bobblehead, Kael echoed every single person as they spoke, offering just the right facial expression each time.
Mrs. Weasley was relieved.
Mr. Weasley was determined.
His own father was hesitant.
The Magic Realm—even with all its power, when it came to fun, what did they really have? Quidditch or tricking the kids, that's pretty much it. This was their only entertainment, so why not play along? It's just acting, nothing hard about it.
Everyone was satisfied—how nice.
...
The whole table was enjoying themselves, completely oblivious to the two helpless figures trembling in a corner.