Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

The members of the Order of the Phoenix had returned the previous afternoon.

Since the Dark Lord had already left the Hebrides Islands, there was nothing further for them to handle there.

The first thing they all did upon arriving back in England was head to Diagon Alley to get new wands.

Although Ollivander appeared furious, chastising them for not taking proper care of their wands, it was obvious to everyone that he was secretly delighted.

A dozen wands sold at full price—no discounts—was a major sale. The pallor of Ollivander's face even took on a healthy flush. He grumbled under his breath, but his hands were quick and efficient as he pulled wand boxes off the shelves.

After all, he needed Galleons to survive. With little profit coming from first-years, if things kept up, he wouldn't even be able to afford materials for wand cores.

Once they had replaced their wands, everyone went their separate ways. Though the experience had been unusual, the Order of the Phoenix was no stranger to skirmishes with Death Eaters—it was part of their daily routine.

Still, they couldn't help but feel a pang for the Galleons they had just spent.

Mr. Weasley hadn't wanted Fred and George to chip in, but he was honestly strapped for cash. After digging through his pockets for a while, he came up with only three Galleons and a Knut.

Not even enough to buy a discounted wand meant for new students.

"It's alright, Dad." Fred handed Ollivander a pouch of Galleons. "If you're facing Death Eaters and You-Know-Who, you need a good wand."

"Exactly. It's for your safety too."

"At worst, next time Mum goes for our ears, you can help hold her back."

Fred and George didn't mind at all. They had two salaries—seventeen Galleons was no big deal to them.

After everything was settled, they returned to the Ministry of Magic.

Mr. Weasley needed to write up a report on the Hebrides Islands, and Fred and George had their own tasks to take care of.

They had snuck out that day, leaving a pile of work unfinished. If they didn't wrap things up, they'd risk losing part of their pay.

It wasn't until night had fully fallen that the twins finally left the office. In the lobby, they picked up a letter Mr. Bob had received for them.

It was a letter from Austria, addressed specifically to them.

Unfortunately, it had arrived while they were still at Diagon Alley, so Mr. Bob had held on to it for safekeeping.

That letter ended up opening a brand-new door for them.

At the Burrow, Fred and George's eyes lit up as they watched Kyle leap out of the envelope. It was the first time they realized that owls could deliver more than just letters—they could deliver actual people.

The conditions were a bit strict, sure, but it provided a perfect way to avoid the Ministry's notice and travel freely across borders.

A new opportunity. If they used it wisely, they might even expand Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes across the entire wizarding world.

Fred and George were full of excitement, itching to develop a replica of Kyle's enchanted suitcase.

That excitement lasted—until the following morning.

Nymphadora Tonks returned, bringing terrible news.

Alastor Moody was dead.

The Burrow was eerily silent that morning. Nearly everyone from the Order of the Phoenix had gathered, staring with heavy hearts at the cobbled-together blue magical eye on the table.

"Lennis… admitted he killed Alastor." Tonks had buried her face in the crook of her arm, tears falling freely.

"Mad-Eye… dead?" Bill leaned against a shelf, staring at the magical eye in disbelief. "That's not possible."

"The Blasting Curse… a lot of people saw it…" Tonks choked on her words, her voice breaking.

"Let me explain,"

Lupin, looking toward his grieving wife, stepped forward and said, "According to what we've learned, Mad-Eye was tracking Barty Crouch Jr. But for some reason, he was exposed and ended up surrounded by Death Eaters and Wandering Wizards in the forest that acted as a buffer zone."

"That still doesn't make sense," Bill said, frowning. "With Mad-Eye's strength, even ten Wandering Wizards shouldn't have been able to stop him."

"What if there were more?" Lupin sighed. "Wandering Wizards, Death Eaters, Barty Crouch Jr.—they were all hunting him. Mad-Eye fought with everything he had and managed to kill more than a dozen of them, but he still couldn't get out. He died to a Blasting Curse."

"The Blasting Curse…" Mrs. Weasley clutched her chest, her voice trembling.

She understood what Lupin meant. It meant there was nothing left of him—not even a body.

"Lennis wore the magical eye like a trophy, hanging it around his neck to show off. We fought with everything we had to take it back."

A heavy silence settled over the room. No one spoke. Even Fred and George had lost their usual energy, sitting in a corner with heads bowed.

And Mr. Weasley, who had known about it for a while now, still struggled to accept it fully now that the truth was confirmed.

"Let's prepare the funeral,"

It was Sirius who finally broke the silence.

"Before we came here, we already spread the word. Others should be arriving at the Ministry soon… The gravestone was finished yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Mrs. Weasley looked up. "Wait—what does that mean?"

"We received word of Mad-Eye's death a few days ago," Mr. Weasley explained. "Kyle told us himself."

"Kyle told you? Why didn't we know?" Fred asked.

"Because Kyle only brought back a piece of the binding strap," Mr. Weasley said, rubbing his forehead. "We held onto a sliver of hope—maybe Kyle had made a mistake, maybe Mad-Eye was still alive."

"But we also knew," the door opened with a creak, and a weary Kingsley entered the room, "Kyle would never joke about something like that."

"Let's go. Everything's ready. It's time to send Mad-Eye off on his final journey."

"By the way, where's Kyle?" Charlie looked around. "Why isn't he here?"

"Kyle's not home," Fred replied. "We went to look for him earlier, but it seems he left. Mr. Chopper is gone too."

"Chris is probably with Mr. Scamander at the Hebrides Islands," Mr. Weasley said softly.

"It's alright. What's happening there is more important," Kingsley said.

No one said anything more. Silently, they filed out of the Burrow, following Kingsley to the Ministry of Magic.

The atmosphere there was just as solemn.

The news of Alastor Moody's death spread through the Ministry of Magic like Fiendfyre.

Though many found the retired Auror to be a paranoid, neurotic troublemaker with a tendency to cause destruction at the drop of a hat, he was also the legendary Mad-Eye—a man who had filled half of Azkaban by himself.

Everyone felt the weight of his passing.

But this was war.

Led by Kingsley, they arrived at a cemetery near the Ministry reserved for Aurors. Dozens of chairs had already been arranged.

After having a bit of time to process it, Kingsley had accepted the truth and quietly taken care of all the preparations.

Tonks' arrival with the news had served more as confirmation—a signal, or a final notice.

By the time the Weasleys arrived, most of the seats were already filled.

The majority of those present were Aurors who had once worked with Moody. A few were members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Sturgis—once gravely injured in a Death Eater ambush alongside Sirius Black—had only survived thanks to the Basilisk's unique petrifying properties. After being discharged from St. Mungo's, he withdrew from the Order to recover at home. Now, he sat quietly in a seat toward the back, lost in thought.

Amelia Bones, the Minister for Magic, wasn't there. Instead, Scrimgeour—the Head of the Auror Office—occupied the front row, wearing a grave expression.

It felt like everyone had been waiting for them.

Tonks stepped forward, her hands trembling as she placed a few items inside.

A magic eye that no longer spun. Half of a cracked wooden prosthetic leg. A snapped wand. All of them belonged to Mad-Eye.

It was all she had been able to recover.

A short wizard with thick hair, dressed in plain black robes, stood from his seat and stepped to the front of the grave, solemnly reciting the eulogy.

Most of it honored Alastor Moody's legacy—his achievements, his bravery, and his unwavering stance against darkness...

There were occasional sounds of quiet sobbing, but not many. Just a few emotional witches, including Mrs. Weasley.

Perhaps for most of the Aurors present, this scene had become far too familiar. In fact, aside from Mad-Eye, several other Aurors were being laid to rest here today.

Mad-Eye was simply the most renowned among them. Most people had come for him.

When the short wizard finally finished, he returned to his seat. The grave was closed. Wands rose in unison, casting sparks into the sky.

"Maybe we could've used real fireworks," Fred whispered. "We could've sponsored them."

"You can try. Professor Moody probably wouldn't mind—but the other Aurors might,"

"Right, George, that's what I was say—huh?"

Fred suddenly froze. The voice hadn't come from George.

He turned sharply.

"Kyle? When did you get here?"

"A little while ago," Kyle replied.

He had arrived at the Ministry and heard the news, then followed a group of Aurors and ended up here—just in time to see the short wizard stand to speak.

He'd stayed at the back the entire time, completely silent.

Mostly because he didn't dare go forward—he was afraid he might laugh, and then get mobbed by everyone else.

Honestly, Professor Moody had really gone all-in—he had destroyed his precious magical eye himself.

From what Kyle could see, the thing had been blasted to pieces by a Blasting Curse. It had only been stuck back together with a Sticking Charm, and it was clearly beyond repair.

But that was exactly why Tonks and the others believed so firmly that Moody was gone.

As for the funeral itself... to be honest, it was nothing grand. Just a standard Auror affair, with barely any notable figures in attendance. It was far from the "grand" funeral Moody had supposedly wanted.

There was nothing to be done about it. Kyle had wanted to organize the ceremony himself, but the events leading up to now had left him no time. He had only just returned, and everything was already over. He couldn't very well knock the grave over and start again.

If he even suggested it, the surrounding Aurors would probably beat him half to death—not even Mr. Weasley could save him then.

So, simple it would have to be. In the end, their real goal had likely been achieved.

What Moody wanted most was for people to know he was dead. The grander the funeral, the faster the news would spread.

As things stood now, the Death Eaters lurking within the Ministry had probably already heard. And given how much they hated Moody, they were sure to broadcast the news themselves.

As long as Voldemort and the Death Eaters believed it, that was enough.

And if the funeral had been too extravagant, it might've raised suspicion. After all, with Voldemort now fully out in the open, Aurors were dying nearly every day.

Moody had been a retired Auror with a painfully small social circle. Making a spectacle of it would only draw unwanted attention—maybe even ruin everything.

This would do.

Once the funeral was officially concluded, Scrimgeour quickly took his leave.

"Where's he going?" Kyle asked curiously.

"No idea," Fred replied, shaking his head. "But where were you earlier? I went to your place looking for you. Knocked for ages—no one answered."

"Had something to take care of." As they stepped outside, Kyle smoothly changed the subject. "I heard from my dad that there was a Black Dragon riot on the Hebrides Islands. Do you guys know what that's about?"

"You don't know?" George gave Kyle a strange look and lowered his voice. "Didn't Cedric say you were the one who passed him the message?"

"We were going to ask you about it yesterday."

"But you didn't mention a thing. Dad figured it was a secret mission Dumbledore gave you and told us not to pry."

"So was it really a secret mission from Dumbledore?"

"Uh… sort of," Kyle said after a brief pause, nodding.

"You found out about Mad-Eye's death because of that too?" George couldn't help asking. "Dad said you were the first to tell him. He said that was also connected to Dumbledore's secret mission. How much has Dumbledore gotten you into?"

And then it clicked for Kyle.

No wonder no one at the Burrow had mentioned the Hebrides Islands yesterday—that explained it.

The last time he'd spoken with Mr. Weasley, he'd used Dumbledore's name as a convenient excuse.

Apparently, Mr. Weasley had believed him—and assumed it was the same this time. He trusted Dumbledore completely. If it was a secret mission, he wouldn't try to dig into it, no matter how curious he was.

"Yeah, that's right. It was all arranged by Dumbledore," Kyle said without hesitation, happily tossing the blame onto the Headmaster's shoulders.

"Wait, from what you just said… you two didn't actually go to the Hebrides Islands too, did you?" Kyle asked, glancing at the twins.

"Of course we did," Fred said, as if it were obvious. "What if You-Know-Who killed you? We had to go rescue you."

Kyle felt a flicker of emotion—they really were friends...

"You've got a lot of money. Better us than the Death Eaters," George added.

Okay. Not emotional anymore.

Kyle twitched the corner of his mouth. "Thanks, guys. I really deserve friends like you."

"Don't mention it."

"Just doing what friends should do."

Fred and George thumped their chests, utterly shameless.

"So, what actually happened with the Black Dragons on the Hebrides Islands?" Kyle asked again.

"You really don't know?"

"Nope." Kyle nodded. "I ran off not long after I passed the message to Cedric."

"Makes sense," George muttered. "You-Know-Who was there. Unless you've been hit on the head by a troll, no one would stay there alone."

Kyle's mouth twitched, but he pretended not to hear it.

"Well, the Black Dragons definitely got stirred up."

"Because of Fiendfyre."

"Fiendfyre…" Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Is it still burning?"

"As if," Fred said, shaking his head. "Dad and the others already put it out."

"I'm telling you, at least ten people's wands broke trying to extinguish that fire."

"Damn Voldemort—what a cowardly move, trying to weaken us like that."

Kyle kept his expression neutral, pretending once again that he'd heard nothing.

After all, most of the Fiendfyre had been caused by Voldemort—which, by extension, meant it was kind of his fault too. Fair enough.

Still, hearing that it had been put out was a relief.

Now it was just the Black Dragons left to deal with. Chris should be able to handle that.

"Where are you headed next?" Fred asked. "Back to the Burrow? We can go together."

"I—"

Before Kyle could finish, a few members of the Order of the Phoenix hurried past them.

Mr. Weasley was following behind.

"Oh, Kyle…" he said. "When did you get here?"

"A while ago. I've been at the back of the crowd," Kyle replied. "Mr. Weasley, where are they going? Is there a mission?"

"Not a mission," Mr. Weasley sighed. "They're going to Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Fred asked. "Why?"

"To ease tensions," Mr. Weasley explained. "Minister Bones believes Dumbledore has been inactive. He didn't appear during the Hebrides incident, or when Gringotts was attacked last night."

"Mad-Eye's death has become a flashpoint. As soon as she got the news, she went straight to the school. Scrimgeour followed not long after. They're worried the two sides might split completely."

To be honest, if Kyle hadn't passed on those two pieces of intel, Mr. Weasley would probably be feeling the same way. Dumbledore had been too quiet lately—quiet enough that it felt like he'd vanished from the wizarding world.

"Ha, Dumbledore inactive?" George said, like it was the punchline to a bad joke. "Who do they think drove You-Know-Who off the Hebrides Islands? What, did he make that whole trip just to toss a few spells around for fun and leave?"

"I thought Fudge was bad enough."

"Don't stir things up," Mr. Weasley said sharply, glaring at him. "Minister Bones doesn't know the full story. And if it weren't for her, even more Aurors and Hit Wizards would've died. She's done everything she can."

George pouted but didn't say anything else.

"I'll go take a look too," Kyle said.

"You're going to Hogwarts as well?" Mr. Weasley frowned.

"Don't worry," Kyle replied. "I just want to see what's going on—I won't get in the way."