Harry Potter: Shippuden

Draco, kneeling on the ground, felt an inexplicable tightness in a certain area when he heard Kyle's voice.

(σ｀д′)σ→_|￣|○

Draco: I'm washing seaweed, washing seaweed~

With a blood-curdling scream, Draco's body flew through the air in a graceful arc.

Kyle was impressed. Even in a frog-like posture, Draco had managed to jump that far. With that kind of spring, he could probably compete in the Olympics' pole vault—without the pole.

"You… you!" Draco knelt on the ground, hands clutching his unmentionable area, his voice trembling, then whimpering, and finally breaking into full-blown sobs.

Kyle, having just delivered the devastating "One Thousand Years of Death," calmly spat out a water ball to wash his hands, then looked up at the sky as if nothing had happened.

"Draco! What happened?" A blonde woman rushed out of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

Narcissa Malfoy glared at Kyle, who was still looking up at the sky, but then her eyes fell on the old man standing behind him.

"Pro…"

Kyle, playing the victim, spoke first. "Professor, he called me a 'Mudblood.'"

"Mrs. Malfoy, is this true?" Dumbledore glanced at the sobbing Draco, his usually kind eyes now icy.

Perhaps emboldened by his mother's presence, Draco, despite his recent humiliation, suddenly found his voice. "Look at his clothes, he's just a Mud—"

"Draco!" Narcissa snapped, cutting off her son's insult.

"I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore, he's just a child."

Standing beside Dumbledore, Kyle muttered under his breath, "He'll know better in his next life."

A few black lines appeared on Dumbledore's forehead.

Next life? Are you planning to kill him?

Dumbledore suddenly realized Newt was right—Hogwarts was indeed about to get "interesting."

"I think young Mr. Malfoy could benefit from learning some proper manners," Dumbledore said, glancing at Draco, whose face was now beet red.

At Dumbledore's words, Narcissa's face turned pale.

After bidding Dumbledore a hasty farewell, she dragged Draco away without looking back.

Dumbledore looked down at Kyle, then at the suspicious puddle on the ground. "We were only a few steps apart, and you've already caused trouble."

"Well, Professor, to be accurate, trouble found me," Kyle said, pulling a homemade kunai from his ninja pouch. "If I'd been serious, I would've used this."

Kyle silently added to himself: If only I'd figured out how to make explosive tags, I'd have attached one to it.

Like Naruto did against Gaara.

The sharp weapon was confiscated, and his ninja pouch was taken away.

Kyle looked up to see Dumbledore's face darken.

Feigning innocence, Kyle blinked at Dumbledore, then pointed to a shop behind him. "Oh, Professor, do you want some ice cream?"

Watching Kyle skip over to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, Dumbledore rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

For the first time in his life, he understood what it was like to deal with a child—especially a highly destructive one.