Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Late at night, a faint cry echoed through St. Catchpole Village. It seemed to come from The Burrow, but when one listened carefully, the sound had already faded away.

Probably just the ghoul in the attic, Kyle thought, paying it no mind.

An old ghoul lived in The Burrow's attic. Despite the ominous name, it was merely a XX-class magical creature—same as a Bowtruckle—and fed on creatures like Doxies and moths.

At least Bowtruckles had sharp fingers. The ghoul's most dangerous feature was likely just its name.

It might give a fright to an unsuspecting young wizard.

If you didn't mind how creepy they looked, keeping one in your attic or barn as a pet wasn't such a bad idea.

The Weasleys, for example, got along with their ghoul just fine.

Ignoring the noise outside, Kyle shut the window and went to bed.

At midnight, it began to rain.

Every light in the village went out. The moon hid behind thick clouds, and even the occasional glimmer of moonlight was quickly smothered by the falling rain.

Behind Kyle's house sat a modest hill. Cross over it and walk a bit farther, and you'd reach the Lovegoods' windmill house.

The area was one of the more remote parts of St. Catchpole, and under normal circumstances, not many people would come this way.

At that moment, a black figure flashed across the hilltop, heading straight for The Burrow. But in the next second, it stopped abruptly.

Two bright, violet lights suddenly appeared ahead—like twin gemstones glowing in the dark. They shimmered beneath the faint moonlight, dazzling like a lighthouse in the night, drawing the gaze irresistibly closer.

The figure was mesmerized. Step by step, it moved forward unconsciously, not even stopping when it reached the cliff's edge.

Moments later, the hilltop fell silent again. The two violet lights vanished, and the rain gently washed away all traces, as if nothing had ever happened.

...

The next morning, Kyle came downstairs yawning.

The Wampus Cat was lounging on the living room sofa, leisurely grooming itself, while locked in a silent staring contest with the family's Kneazle.

This was Tom's first time seeing a Wampus Cat. He couldn't comprehend how a cat could grow that large—or why it had six legs.

The Wampus Cat was just as baffled, unable to figure out how the round, ball-shaped creature in front of it looked so much like itself.

Their staring match ended when footsteps echoed on the stairs. The Wampus Cat instinctively turned to glance at Kyle.

And in that instant, Kyle felt sleepier than ever, as though someone had tied lead weights to his eyelids.

"Hey—no hypnosis in the house," he muttered.

The Wampus Cat blinked, and its violet eyes instantly shifted to orange.

"Yaaah!"

Tom shrieked in terror. His tail puffed straight up, and he bolted through the door into the kitchen.

Kyle smacked his lips. So, Tom wasn't affected by hypnosis, but reacted that strongly to mind-reading?

Did the little guy have some kind of secret?

The Wampus Cat let out a lazy yowl, hopped off the sofa, and padded into the kitchen after him.

A few minutes later—amid Tom's anguished howls—the Wampus Cat emerged, cheeks puffed out. Kyle could faintly catch the aroma of dried Murtlap jerky lingering in the air.

So it had raided Tom's secret stash. No wonder he was howling like that.

Kyle didn't care much. With Tom's size, missing a few snacks wouldn't do him any harm.

He gave his wand a casual wave and sat at the dining table, rubbing his face.

Two slices of bread floated in from the kitchen. An egg cracked midair, its yolk spilling into a pan with bacon and spices, then folding neatly into the sandwich. By the time it landed on the plate, the bread had turned a beautiful golden brown, releasing a mouthwatering aroma.

Kyle took a bite—it tasted exactly like a standard sandwich. Nothing special, but quick and easy.

Chris had already left for the Ministry of Magic.

After finishing his breakfast, Kyle prepared to head there too.

If possible, he wanted to get the paperwork sorted and make his shop fully legitimate as soon as possible.

But just as he reached the door, the Wampus Cat blocked his path, letting out two low, sleepy-sounding growls.

"Someone came by yesterday?" Kyle frowned and immediately changed his plans, giving up the trip to the Ministry.

Instead, he turned toward the northern hill—and at the base, among the leaves and twigs, he spotted a familiar black hood.

...

Because of a few delays, it was nearly noon by the time Kyle arrived at the Ministry of Magic.

Chris was already in his office, clearly prepared. As soon as he saw Kyle, he handed him a piece of parchment bearing Amelia Bones's signature.

The content was straightforward: seven ambiguous items were now approved for legal sale—but Mobic Giant Squid Ink wasn't among them.

"The quills were easy enough," Chris explained. "Thunderbirds are banned from trade in the Americas, but Europe isn't as strict. The ink, though…"

Chris paused before continuing, "Bones wants to acquire the entire batch on behalf of the Ministry."

"Huh?" Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"Because of how unique Mobic Giant Squid Ink is," Chris said. "Ink made from it won't fade for a thousand years—perfect for drafting major legislation and official documents."

"Ah, so it's for appearances," Kyle nodded.

"Exactly," Chris said. "Romania has dragon blood ink, and Ilvermorny supplies their Ministry with high-grade Snargaluff ink... These things are mostly symbolic, but in some ways, that matters."

"What were we using before?" Kyle asked curiously.

"Mr. Scamander supplied it—also a type of dragon blood ink," Chris said. "But in terms of quality, it's definitely inferior to Mobic ink."

"And the price? Minister Bones isn't going to lowball me, is she?"

"She probably won't pay full price," Chris admitted after thinking for a moment. "But it won't be too low either. You did the Ministry a big favor, after all."

"Alright. I'll speak to Minister Bones myself when the time comes." Kyle agreed after a brief pause.

Considering how expensive the stuff was, it wouldn't sell easily in a shop anyway. Partnering with the Ministry wasn't a bad option.

Besides, Bones wasn't like Fudge—she wasn't shameless. Her goodwill actually meant something.

Kyle took the parchment, folded it, and slipped it into his pocket.

"You really went back to 1899?" Chris suddenly asked in a hushed voice.

"Yep," Kyle replied. "Where else do you think I got all those items? I even invested in the dragon reserve. That 6,000 Galleons you saw? That's just the dividends from a century's worth of profits."

Chris pressed his lips together. He'd already heard the whole story from Dumbledore, but it still felt unbelievable.

Using a Philosopher's Stone to travel back a hundred years? That was... beyond anything he could imagine.

"What did you experience back then?" he asked, intrigued. "Did you meet anyone special?"

"Does Grindelwald count?" Kyle said. There really wasn't anyone more special in the wizarding world.

Chris visibly shuddered. "Yeah, that counts. Anyone else?"

Clearly, Grindelwald wasn't someone he wanted to hear more about.

"There's also... Harry Potter's great-great-grandfather," Kyle said. "We got along really well. He even wanted me to be his child's godfather. Shame I ran out of time."

Chris gave another involuntary shudder as he mentally tried to trace the family tree.

"You mean... you almost became James's godfather?"

He didn't know Harry very well, but James Potter had been his classmate.

The famous Marauders—virtually everyone at school had known who they were.

Diana had even been friends with Lily Evans, so he and James had shared a bit of friendly acquaintance—though not a close one.

As a textbook Hufflepuff, he hadn't been too fond of some of the Marauders' antics… Lily Evans being the exception.

"James Potter's grandfather... I suppose that's one way to put it," Kyle nodded.

"Thank Merlin you didn't go through with it," Chris muttered, still shaken.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, your mother and James's wife were friends. I was his classmate," Chris said. "If you'd really become James's grandfather's godfather, then what would that make the rest of us?"

"Oh come on, those are separate matters," Kyle said with a dismissive wave.

I call you Dad, and you call me great-grandfather godfather? Kyle wasn't even sure if that title made sense, but it was probably something like that.

"Heh," Chris gave a dry laugh. "You want to come with me to the Department of Mysteries and say that again?"

"Nope," Kyle said without hesitation.

His blunt refusal caught Chris off guard, and he didn't quite know how to respond. After a moment's thought, he decided to drop the topic.

Any further and they'd be veering into completely ridiculous territory.

Besides, truth be told, he didn't dare bring Kyle into the Department of Mysteries right now either. Diana would be absolutely furious if she found out Kyle had used a Time-Turner—especially for a century-long leap.

If she learned about it, he'd be in hot water too… At the very least, she couldn't hear it from him.

"Would you consider becoming a professor at Hogwarts?" Chris asked, awkwardly changing the subject.

"A professor at Hogwarts?"

"Deputy Headmistress Dumbledore asked me to pass it on," Chris said. "He said Hogwarts is short on staff right now, and you'd be a good fit."

"Nope. No way. Absolutely not," Kyle said, shooting it down without hesitation.

"Why not?" Chris looked puzzled. "I think it'd be great—youngest professor at Hogwarts, you'd have total control over their homework."

Kyle still shook his head.

Most Hogwarts faculty positions were long-term, stable posts—except for one that notoriously wasn't.

Defense Against the Dark Arts.

That post had carried a bizarre one-year curse for decades. The only one who'd managed to break the cycle and last more than a year was Snape.

And even he hadn't come out unscathed.

The last time Kyle saw him, Snape had been limping—his right leg clearly weakened.

Running a shop in Diagon Alley was far more comfortable. Why would he willingly subject himself to that cursed job?

Kyle had no desire to challenge the Dark Arts curse—not yet, anyway.

But then it struck him: everything had seemed fine before. Why was Hogwarts suddenly short on staff?

What had happened to Snape?

Don't tell him...

"It shouldn't be," Kyle muttered, shaking his head.

Snape was still at Hogwarts. If something serious had happened there, Chris wouldn't be this calm.

Still... for Kanna's sake, he figured it was worth checking out.

Kyle had just changed clothes and was about to leave when Chris said, "Molly invited us to dinner at The Burrow tonight. Don't forget."

"I'm not going," Kyle stopped and replied.

"You're not coming back tonight?"

"No," Kyle said. "I want to organize the shop properly. I'll be staying in Diagon Alley for the time being."

At that, Kyle remembered the Death Eater he had found at the foot of the hill.

He still didn't know why a Death Eater had shown up in St. Catchpole, but odds were, it was because of him.

He hadn't returned in a while—nothing had happened. The one time he did, a Death Eater came sniffing around?

If that was just coincidence, it was a little too convenient.

"Dad, you should be cautious too. St. Catchpole might not be safe," Kyle said seriously.

"What happened?" Chris frowned.

"A Death Eater showed up last night," Kyle said.

Chris sprang to his feet. "What did you say?"

"It's fine now," Kyle quickly explained. "The Wampus Cat spotted him early. It's been handled."

But Chris didn't relax. In fact, he looked even more tense.

"Was he after you?"

"Most likely," Kyle nodded. "Honestly, I've been crossing You-Know-Who a little too often lately."

Chris was at a loss for words—and more curious than ever. What exactly had Kyle been doing to say something like "I've been crossing You-Know-Who a bit too much" so casually?

Most people hadn't even seen him in person.

"It's fine, we can cast the Fidelius Charm," Chris said, rubbing his forehead. "No—on second thought, you need to go to Hogwarts. That's the safest place right now."

"There's no need for that. I'm not interested in becoming the next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Kyle muttered. "Worst case, I'll stay at 12 Grimmauld Place."

"Then build a new place next to the Forbidden Forest and move in beside Hagrid."

Chris didn't seem to hear the second half of Kyle's sentence and just kept going. "You don't understand how dangerous You-Know-Who really is. Unless you plan to stay holed up in a house protected by the Fidelius Charm, you're better off going to Hogwarts."

"…No wonder Dumbledore brought it up with me. He's probably thinking the same thing."

"I think I understand him quite well," Kyle muttered under his breath.

After all, he'd faced Voldemort twice already. Aside from Dumbledore, no one had come into contact with him more.

But looking at Chris's serious expression, Kyle could tell he wasn't going to agree to him staying in Diagon Alley.

As for staying cooped up indoors forever...

"I'll go to Hogwarts," Kyle finally compromised. "Though I doubt Professor McGonagall will be thrilled to see me."

Chris's face twitched. He didn't know what Kyle had done this time, but at this point, he'd learned not to ask.

"Then move in next to Hagrid. You can lend him a hand now and then. You're not short on money—just treat it like a vacation."

Kyle shrugged. It wasn't like he had a choice.

...

After leaving Chris's office, Kyle headed to the Minister for Magic's office on the first floor to discuss the ink matter with Amelia Bones.

The meeting went smoothly.

Bones initially offered to buy the entire batch at half the market price. After a bit of negotiation, they settled on seventy percent—and a future favor from the Minister herself.

Both sides were satisfied.

By the time everything was done, it was nearly evening.

Chris hadn't gone anywhere. While Kyle had been in with the Minister, he had waited just outside, and afterward, Apparated with him straight to Hogsmeade.

...

"Dad, what happened to trust between us?"

Walking along the streets of Hogsmeade, Kyle gave Chris a sideways look. "Do you think I'm going to bolt?"

"Who knows?" Chris replied. "It's not impossible."

"Come on, even if I were planning to run, Hogwarts wouldn't stop me. There's no one guarding the place." Kyle glanced toward the looming gates of the castle in the distance.

"I know," Chris said. "I respect your decisions. Whatever you choose to do, I know you have your reasons. I won't try to interfere based on my own experience."

Now that was trust.

Kyle felt a little touched.

And then Chris added—

"But I still need to see you walk through the gates of Hogwarts with my own eyes... That way, even if you sneak out later, I can at least explain it to your mother."

...

"So the whole reason you dragged me here wasn't because you were worried—it was just so you could report back to Mum?" Whatever flicker of emotion Kyle had felt instantly vanished.

Figures. He should've known better than to get sentimental.

"What else?" Chris said. "You went back in time a hundred years and brought Dumbledore back. You stood face-to-face with You-Know-Who in the Hebrides and made it out unscathed. You even managed to get a legal dragon ownership license. I couldn't do any of that. Why would I need to worry about you...?"

"You know all of it?"

"Dumbledore told me," Chris sighed. "I didn't realize you were behind what happened in the Hebrides. Scamander and I cursed the unknown party for days."

"Heh... yeah," Kyle scratched his cheek awkwardly. "It's not that I meant to keep it from you. I just didn't know how to explain it. Honestly, if it hadn't come from Dumbledore himself, would you even believe it?"

"Probably not," Chris admitted.

Truth be told, when Dumbledore first explained it, he didn't believe it either.

Not until Dumbledore showed him the memories in the Pensieve...

It was unbelievable, really.

"Oh, and your legal dragon ownership certificate..." Chris seemed like he was about to say something else, but after a brief hesitation, he shook his head. "Forget it. Just… don't destroy the Forbidden Forest. That place is Hogwarts's natural barrier—it's important."

"Relax, I know what I'm doing."

"I hope so."