Hogwarts: I'm Truly a Model Wizard

"I think you could be a bit bolder."

In the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, Headmaster Armando Dippet's portrait crouched excitedly beside a knight's portrait, as if eagerly anticipating something.

"We're just portraits—no need to be so reserved. Might as well make those spikes twice as long."

"But if they get any longer, the wolf tooth club will turn into a meteor hammer." Kyle picked up the palette again. "Wouldn't that be a bit too clumsy?"

"Doesn't matter, as long as it's fun." Another large-nosed wizard squeezed over. "I've always wanted to try a weapon like that—go ahead and paint it."

Kyle nodded and traced over the spikes again with his wand.

The technique of magical portrait painting was something Kyle had found on a bookshelf in Headmaster Dumbledore's office. He'd only flipped through it out of curiosity, not expecting to actually find such a method.

In short, it involved grinding specific herbs and minerals into paint, using a wand as the brush, and embedding the pigments into the canvas through magical runes.

For portraits of people, there was an extra step involved—also the most difficult one. But for decorative objects, it wasn't nearly as complex. With a basic understanding of alchemy, you could get the hang of it in just a few days.

And all the herbs and minerals required were readily available, stashed in the storage room in the corner.

The only real challenge was the actual drawing skill.

Kyle's artistic ability was mediocre at best—his work looked more like scribbles and stuck out awkwardly on the canvas.

Fortunately, he was self-aware enough not to experiment on the headmasters' portraits. Instead, he grabbed a random knight's portrait from outside and brought it in.

The knight hadn't been too pleased about someone messing with his painting, but after some persistent "persuasion" from the other headmasters, he finally relented.

And that led to the scene just moments ago.

Kyle made a few final adjustments to the portrait with his wand, and before long, he'd finished his creation.

As soon as he put the wand down, Headmaster Dippet eagerly picked up the… wolf tooth club? Or maybe it was a spiked mace?

Honestly, Kyle wasn't sure what he'd drawn either. If he had to describe it, it looked like a giant eggplant covered in iron spikes.

Despite the odd design, the headmasters seemed quite pleased. Dippet cradled it like a prized possession and headed straight for another nearby portrait.

"Mmmph... mmph mmph!"

Phineas was tied up, thoroughly restrained and gagged, unable to speak—only writhing and groaning in protest.

Clearly, he knew exactly what was about to happen.

"Do you want me to cover the painting?" Kyle asked considerately.

He was soft-hearted and couldn't bear to watch.

"No need for that..." Dippet started to say, but then reconsidered. "Actually, yes—go ahead. I need to maintain my image."

"No problem," Kyle replied, grabbing a velvet tablecloth and draping it over the portrait Phineas was in.

That should do it.

"Someone let him go—we're having a fair, one-on-one duel... and no helping!"

The thick velvet not only covered the image but muffled the sounds as well. Kyle could only catch bits and pieces of shouting, and from that, it was hard to tell exactly what was going on.

Still, it was pretty clear that the headmasters were usually quite bored, so Kyle didn't mind doing them a favor and giving them a bit of fun.

But just as he was about to start painting a second piece, Fawkes—who had been napping—suddenly woke up and gave two firm flaps of his wings.

It was a warning: someone was coming.

Kyle immediately shoved everything—both in his hands and on the table—into the drawer.

If Fawkes went out of his way to alert him, it definitely wasn't Professor McGonagall. Who could it be, coming to see Dumbledore at this hour...

As that thought crossed his mind, Kyle quickly pulled out a strand of silvery-white hair, dropped it into the Polyjuice Potion he'd "borrowed" from Slughorn, and downed it in one gulp.

Ugh, that's disgusting...

But Kyle didn't have time to worry about the taste now.

Soon, with two half-hearted knocks, the door to the Headmaster's office was pushed open from the outside, and someone walked in briskly.

A black cloak billowed behind him, making him look like a Lethifold walking on two legs.

"I heard you were back."

Snape walked straight into the middle of the headmaster's office. Just as he was about to speak, he paused, frowned, and sniffed the air.

"What's that smell?"

Kyle's heart skipped a beat. Snape must have caught the scent of the Polyjuice Potion—he'd arrived too quickly for the smell to have faded.

"Potions. Horace is trying to get me to approve the purchase of thirty-five Self-Stirring Cauldrons. He insisted on sending them over." Kyle kept a calm expression and pointed to a few bottles on a nearby shelf.

"Self-Stirring Cauldrons…" Fortunately, Snape didn't question it. He gave a cold sneer and brushed it off.

"When he deals with students like Longbottom, he'll realize how easily those fancy tools fall apart."

"Don't say that, Severus. Neville is actually quite capable in some areas."

"Sure, his brain's in perfect condition—never been used." Snape drawled, then added, "Anyway, you know I'm not here to talk about Longbottom."

"Then what brings you here?"

"Potter," Snape replied. "I need to remind you—it's best to keep a close eye on him. The Death Eaters are already making plans to lure him out of the school."

"Harry's not the reckless type. He knows where he's safest."

"Are you sure?" Snape gave a smile that didn't look remotely friendly.

"I've told you this many times—he's just like his father. Ill-tempered, foolish, and worst of all… arrogant."

Snape listed Harry's faults like he was reciting a familiar inventory. "You really think he'll just sit tight and do as he's told? I guarantee, it wouldn't take more than a simple trick to get him to sneak out on his own."

"Remember that crystal ball from the Department of Mysteries? Potter ran off to play hero at the Ministry without even consulting you, didn't he?"

"But we all know how that turned out, don't we?"

"Sure. He naïvely thought riding a Thestral would keep him hidden—forgetting not everyone can't see them," Snape said flatly. "In the end, he was lucky to come back alive. But that only proves how foolish he is."

"Severus, maybe we should focus more on his strengths."

"Oh, here we go again—are you going to tell me he has a kind heart?"

Snape looked slightly annoyed. "A kind heart won't stop the Killing Curse. If Kyle hadn't happened to be there, Potter wouldn't have made it until you arrived."

"To be honest, I really don't understand where he gets all those… absurd ideas. Just glimpsing a few insignificant fragments from the Dark Lord's memories, and he actually believed he could handle everything on his own."

"In that sense, he's not even as capable as Kyle. At least Kyle knows how to use Magical Creatures against Death Eaters, rather than charging in like an idiot with nothing but a wand."

"Um… Severus." Kyle couldn't help interrupting. Snape was going on endlessly.

Not even as capable as Kyle? That felt a bit insulting. Was this really how Snape talked about him behind his back to Dumbledore?

"What are you trying to say?" Snape glanced at him. "Don't bother with your usual theories—I have my own judgment."

"No, you misunderstood. What I meant is—don't you think your bias against Kyle might be a bit much? From what I know, the other professors speak well of him. Minerva even thinks he has the potential to be the next headmaster."

Snape didn't respond immediately. He just looked at him with an unreadable expression. "I don't deny that. But so what?"

"I mean... maybe you could try to accept him. Personally, I don't think there are many young wizards his age who are… well, more accomplished."

Even though he was using Dumbledore's appearance right now, praising himself like this still felt incredibly awkward. To ease the tension, Kyle picked up the teacup on the table and pretended to take a sip.

"Accomplished?" Snape raised an eyebrow. "Are you referring to how he tricked an eleven-year-old girl before the Sorting, telling her she'd be hit with the Killing Curse if she didn't choose Gryffindor? Is that what you mean by accomplished?"

Kyle's hand trembled, nearly spitting out the tea he'd just sipped.

He couldn't believe it—Snape still remembered that from seven years ago? And not only remembered it, but actually brought it up?

"Of course not. But Severus, I think… Kyle didn't mean any harm." He offered a slightly guilty explanation. "We all know that scaring new students during Sorting is a bit of an old British wizarding tradition. Everyone from a wizarding family has gone through it, right?"

"Sorry, I didn't." Snape replied coolly.

"That's a shame."

"A shame?"

"You missed out on a rather fun memory."

"I wouldn't say that." Snape shook his head.

Kyle was about to say more.

He suddenly realized—this was the perfect opportunity. He could use Dumbledore's identity to try and convince Snape, from another angle, to finally let go of his prejudice.

But Snape didn't seem interested in hearing any of that.

"All right, I didn't come here to talk about Kyle. We're here to talk about Potter," he continued. "The Dark Lord has never stopped wanting him dead."

"As long as he's in school, he's safe. Tom wouldn't dare declare war on Hogwarts right now."

"You can't watch him all the time," Snape said.

"But he has no reason to leave the school."

"And what if it involves Black? Are you still so sure?" Snape replied.

Kyle's tone faltered. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you see it?" Snape said with disgust. "If there's anyone who could make Potter throw caution to the wind and run out of school, who else could it be but that filthy mutt?"

"Tom wants to use Sirius?"

"Stop pretending. You must know already—otherwise, you wouldn't have let him go to Hogsmeade," Snape said. "Then again, it is the closest place to Hogwarts. Even if Potter sneaks over, he'll still be within reach."

"But I have to remind you—no matter how close it is, Hogsmeade is not part of the school. Keep Potter grounded. Don't let that 'Chosen One' nonsense go to his head. He can't defeat the Dark Lord."

"He wouldn't even last against the others. Barty Jr., Antonin, Oren—Potter couldn't handle any of them."

"They already know Sirius is in Hogsmeade?"

"Not yet. Someone just raised the possibility," Snape said with a shake of his head. "But even if they haven't found out yet, it won't stay hidden for long. Your setup is clever, but a new shop popping up in Hogsmeade out of nowhere is bound to draw attention."

"And if you stopped delivering the Polyjuice Potion yourself, he might be able to stay hidden a little longer."

Kyle realized Snape must have mistaken the Polyjuice Potion smell from earlier as being for Sirius. He didn't correct him—better to leave it that way.

"I'll be careful," Kyle said.

"You'd better."

After that, Snape said nothing.

But he didn't leave either. He just stood there, staring at him unblinkingly.

"Uh… is there something else?" Kyle asked.

"Are you playing dumb with me?" Snape frowned, his voice turning cold. "About what I told you before. We agreed two months ago—you'd give me an answer at the start of term. Now you're pretending you don't know?

"Do I need to give you a potion to jog your memory?"

As he spoke, he pulled a red vial from his robe pocket and tossed it onto the table.

The bottle spun across the surface, and Kyle's heart leapt into his throat.

Two months ago… that must've been right when school let out. But he wasn't the real Dumbledore—he was just an imposter. He had no idea what they'd talked about or what Dumbledore had promised.

Dumbledore hadn't mentioned any of it in his letter.

"Ah, Severus, you really should be more understanding of an old man's failing memory," Kyle said, trying to sound light, but inwardly, he was panicking.

If it were any other professor, he wouldn't be so nervous. But this was Snape.

After years of serving around Voldemort, Snape's instincts and judgment were razor-sharp. One wrong word and he'd instantly realize the Dumbledore in front of him was a fake.

Kyle could only hope Professor McGonagall would show up soon and get him out of this. Just buy him a little time to come up with an excuse.

But he forgot—classes were still in session. Snape didn't have a class now, but that didn't mean McGonagall didn't.

As the seconds ticked by, Snape's expression grew darker and the pressure in the room heavier. Still, there was no sign of McGonagall.

"Severus…"

Left with no choice, Kyle braced himself. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. My answer is still the same."

"But you never gave me an answer," Snape said, narrowing his eyes. "That's why I'm here today… And something's off about you."

"Actually, I did give you an answer that day," Kyle said, deliberately ignoring the last part. He rubbed his palms together behind his back. "You just didn't catch it."

For a moment, Snape hesitated, as if trying to recall something.

"This isn't over… Hmph. So that was your answer?" Snape suddenly gave a cold laugh. "Well, I certainly didn't realize what you meant. So you'd made your decision then, and just didn't bother to tell me?"

Kyle let out a silent breath of relief. Risky as it was, it had worked.

Dumbledore was always cryptic, always dropping strange comments. If Snape went back looking for meaning, odds were he'd find something that could be twisted into an answer.

Still, Kyle didn't respond to Snape's accusation—because he genuinely didn't know what to say.

The more he said now, the greater the chance of a slip-up. The best move was to stay quiet and let Snape draw his own conclusions.

But that silence only made Snape angrier.

"You're always like this—thinking everything is under control, refusing to tell anyone your plans," he all but roared.

"I'm sorry, Severus."

"You don't need to apologize to me. I didn't do any of this for you." Snape didn't linger. He turned sharply and stormed out.

"I never should've wasted my time coming to you."

The door slammed shut so hard it nearly knocked Fawkes off his perch. The phoenix flapped his wings and screeched furiously in Snape's direction.

"Easy, Fawkes," Kyle said, gently calming the bird before slumping into the chair with a long, exhausted sigh.