A buzz of excitement rippled through the Great Hall as Kyle took his seat at the staff table.
All the students were whispering and speculating about Kyle's identity.
What was his relationship with Professor Dumbledore? Why had Professor Dumbledore brought him to the hall? And why was he eating with the professors?
Kyle, the subject of all the attention, paid them no mind. He knew his appearance was unusual, but he had other things on his mind.
He'd just arrived from New York, America. His body clock was telling him it was three in the morning.
Earlier, he'd been in a warehouse, engaged in a "multi-person exercise" with a group of gangsters selling laundry detergent.
He'd barely made it home, hadn't even had a chance to grab a late-night snack, when Dumbledore told him he was the son of a criminal, and that the magical police were after him. Next thing he knew, he was crossing the Atlantic to escape them.
What a night.
He felt so hungry right now that he could eat forty-six bowls of Ichiraku Ramen.
Kyle ravaged the food on the table like a starving ghost. In no time at all, the process of the food disappearing from the plates and then reappearing had repeated itself four or five times.
He was now Kyle Payne, the Realm of Hungry Ghosts, Grindelwald.
The others at the table stopped, casting curious glances at Kyle. They seemed to want to know just how much this child could eat.
When the food on the plates was gone for the eighth time, Kyle let out a burp and finally stopped.
However, his gaze lingered on the table, searching for something.
At this moment, a hand reached over from the side, offering him a glass of pumpkin juice.
"Thank you." Kyle turned his head and saw the owner of the hand was a professor with shoulder-length black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. "How should I address you?"
"Just call me Professor Snape."
"Professor Snape." Kyle's attitude was extremely respectful.
Then he waited for a long time, but didn't receive any response. So he couldn't help but say, "Just Snape? Like, Adele… or Aristotle… Drake? Bono? Um?"
How can this kid talk so much?
Snape's eternally cold face twitched. After holding it in for a long time, he finally spat out a name from between his teeth, "Severus Snape."
On the other side of the teachers' table, Dumbledore looked at Kyle, who was "chatting happily" with Snape, and a smile appeared on his face.
"It seems he gets along well with Severus. That surprises me."
Hearing Dumbledore's words, a tall witch looked in his direction. Through the lenses of her square glasses, she saw Kyle's heterochromatic eyes, which were exactly the same as Gellert Grindelwald's.
Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, said with a smile, "It seems his Potions grades shouldn't be bad."
"I think he'll inherit his father's excellent talent, and surpass him."
Dumbledore silently added in his heart: His father wasn't this much of an eater.
All the food on the table disappeared, signaling the end of the meal.
Kyle stood up, his flat stomach showing no sign that he had just eaten at least five or six adult-sized portions.
"Professor…"
Before he could finish his question, Dumbledore answered his unspoken query, "I think you should go take a nap first. When you wake up, I'll take you to Diagon Alley to buy the supplies you'll need for school at Hogwarts."
As a ninja who operated at night, the Dark Knight of New York, Kyle didn't think he needed to take a nap at all.
Besides, he had already taken a nap during the day to prepare for last night's activities. After all, he couldn't possibly yawn while fighting gangsters, could he?
"Professor, I'm not tired at all right now. Let's go to Diagon Alley directly."
Dumbledore stared at Kyle for a while, confirming that he was indeed energetic and in good spirits, before nodding.
"Then let's go now."
A moment later, Kyle and Dumbledore arrived on the grass outside the castle.
"Professor, can't we go to Diagon Alley without using that 'Portkey' magic?" Kyle asked, looking up.
Not long ago, he had been taken across the Atlantic by Dumbledore using this magic, which was called a Portkey.
That terrifying feeling of being yanked by a hook on his navel, he'd rather not experience it a second time in his life.
Dumbledore looked at Kyle somewhat puzzled, not understanding why Kyle was so resistant to the Portkey's method of transportation.
"Alright, then. Fawkes!"
With Dumbledore's call, a burst of fire appeared out of thin air.
A magnificent, scarlet-red bird, similar in size to a swan, with a long, shimmering golden tail and long, golden beak and claws—a Scottish fire turkey? It emerged from the flames.
For some reason, upon seeing the phoenix named Fawkes, Kyle inexplicably felt a sense of familiarity.
"This is Fawkes the phoenix. It will take us to Diagon Alley."
Hearing Dumbledore's words, Kyle glanced at Fawkes with a doubtful look. So small, can we ride it? Could it be that it will grab onto one person with its claws, and then just dangle the two of them as it flies to Diagon Alley? Fawkes the phoenix stood on Dumbledore's shoulder, its large eyes filled with a curious gaze, and it felt that this human cub was thinking some rather unpleasant things.
"Hold my hand."
Kyle did as he was told, and the next second, the two of them burst into a huge ball of fire, and vanished from Hogwarts.
When Kyle came to his senses, they were standing on a wide archway that opened onto a winding, cobblestone street that seemed to stretch on forever.
"Are we in Diagon Alley already?" Kyle hadn't even felt the long-distance spatial teleportation.
Traveling with Fawkes the phoenix felt warm and pleasant, far superior to using a Portkey.
"Yes, let's go and get some money first."
Walking out of the archway, the closest shop was Potage's Cauldron Shop. The morning sun cast its golden light on a stack of cauldrons at the entrance, making the words on the sign above them shine.
Dumbledore noticed Kyle's gaze. "You won't need that for now."
No, I think I need one right now.
Kyle's eyes were fixed on a copper pot, which he thought would be perfect for making hot pot.
He had been in this world for a full eleven years, but he hadn't tasted a single one of the delicacies from his previous life's food paradise.
The thought of the spicy, numbing flavor of a Sichuan hot pot brought tears of longing to Kyle's eyes.
Wiping away his "tears," Kyle followed Dumbledore to a tall, snow-white building that towered over the surrounding shops.
A white stone staircase led to two gleaming bronze doors. Standing beside the doors was a… Goblin?… dressed in a scarlet and gold uniform.
To be precise, a Goblin.
The two of them passed through a second silver door and entered a spacious marble hall.
About a hundred Goblins were sitting behind a long counter, hastily recording things in large ledgers.
Some were weighing coins with scales, while others were examining gemstones with magnifying glasses.
"Welcome to Gringotts, Mr. Dumbledore. How may we assist you?" A Goblin immediately approached Dumbledore respectfully upon seeing him.
Dumbledore took out a key from his pocket. "Please take us to the underground vaults."
The Goblin bowed impeccably to Dumbledore, leading the two towards a door.
"Your father left you a considerable fortune," Dumbledore explained to Kyle.
....
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