Hogwarts: I'm Truly a Model Wizard

Snape's unexpected visit served as a wake-up call for Kyle. He had no idea who Dumbledore had met before leaving, or what they had discussed.

If Snape could show up today, then Slughorn might just as easily come by tomorrow for something else—and Kyle couldn't be sure he'd be able to bluff his way through every time.

In fact, it was this kind of unpredictability that posed the greatest threat.

Kyle's solution was simple… run.

After Snape left the Headmaster's office, Kyle asked the headmaster's portrait to summon Professor McGonagall, who had just finished teaching, and brought the matter to her attention.

"You mean Severus came to see you? And said something you didn't understand?" Professor McGonagall frowned, clearly just as surprised.

"He only left a little while ago," Kyle said. "Honestly, I wasn't even this nervous during my N.E.W.T. exams."

"Dumbledore rarely spoke to us about Severus, so I can't really help you there," McGonagall said after a moment's thought. "Strange, though—why wouldn't he mention this in his letter?"

"That's exactly the issue," Kyle sighed. "I don't know how many more times something like this might happen. If it keeps happening, I'm bound to get found out."

"So what are you thinking?"

"I can't stay here forever," Kyle said, taking a deep breath. "As long as no one can find Dumbledore, they won't have a chance to expose me."

"No." Professor McGonagall shook her head firmly, immediately rejecting the idea.

"I really don't think it'll make a difference, Professor," Kyle said. "Professor Dumbledore was often absent from the school before, wasn't he? Everyone must be used to that by now.

"Besides, I already appeared at the Start-of-Term Feast. Even if I leave for a while, it shouldn't be a problem."

Professor McGonagall hesitated. She didn't refuse immediately this time.

But after a brief pause, she still shook her head. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't just vanish," she said. "You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters have been active all year. You need to be seen regularly at school."

"I'll just come back when I need to," Kyle said. "Didn't Professor Dumbledore used to do the same?"

"And how exactly do you plan to come and go?" McGonagall asked. "Term's already started. If you return to the school, you'll have to go through Hogsmeade—and that place is crawling with all kinds. Even with the Invisibility Cloak, there's no guarantee you won't be spotted."

"A graduate returning to Hogwarts is bound to attract suspicion. We need to avoid any situation that might risk exposure—unless you're using Dumbledore's identity every single time."

"That's easy enough. I just won't go through Hogsmeade," Kyle said with a chuckle.

The issue McGonagall was concerned about wasn't a problem for him at all.

"Not go through Hogsmeade? Then how will you—"

Before she could finish, Fawkes, who had been perched nearby, flew over and landed gracefully on Kyle's shoulder.

"Fawkes?" McGonagall paused, then suddenly understood. "No wonder Dumbledore was so comfortable letting you impersonate him."

She had never seen Fawkes show such affection to anyone other than Dumbledore before… and it was something well-known in the magical world.

Nearly every witch and wizard knew Dumbledore kept a phoenix by his side. In a way, it was a symbol of his identity. If you saw an old man accompanied by a phoenix, there was no doubt—it had to be Dumbledore.

It was impossible to imitate, even with Polyjuice Potion.

She had never quite understood why Dumbledore would entrust Kyle with such a task, but now it all made sense.

With Fawkes on his side, Kyle didn't even need Polyjuice. Even the simplest human Transfiguration spell would be enough to convince people he was the real thing.

"I've got no objections, then," McGonagall said at once, nodding. She glanced at Kyle. "While the Polyjuice Potion is still working, make one more public appearance. Then you can leave."

"As for next time… let's say Halloween. No matter what, Dumbledore is always expected at major school banquets."

"Got it," Kyle nodded.

He changed into a less formal silver-gray robe and followed McGonagall out of the Headmaster's office.

"What do I need to do?" Kyle asked.

"Nothing. Just act like normal," McGonagall said. "Think about what Dumbledore usually did at school. Don't do anything that feels forced."

"I can't think of anything. He hasn't been around much in recent years. Every time I saw him, it was in the Headmaster's office."

"Then think further back. You must've seen him when you were a first-year."

As they talked, they passed the stone gargoyle and, near the Gryffindor common room, ran into a group of students on their way to lunch.

"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall, Headmaster Dumbledore..." said Seamus Finnigan eagerly from the front of the group. "Headmaster, was what you said earlier really true?"

"What part are you referring to?"

"About Quidditch! If we win the championship, will we really get 200 points?" Seamus rubbed his hands together. "And what about that gold medal—how is it awarded? Does the team vote internally? Or does everyone get to vote?"

"First of all, the 200 points are guaranteed—provided you win the championship," Kyle said with a smile. "As for the second part, you'll find out when the time comes."

"Can't you tell us in advance?"

"There has to be some mystery," Kyle said with a wink. "Alright, off to lunch now—there's black pepper pork chops today."

"Well… alright." Though clearly not satisfied with the answer, Seamus left out of respect for the Headmaster.

"Actually, I'm curious too. What exactly is the selection criteria?" After the students had gone, Professor McGonagall turned to Kyle. "At first, I thought it was based on how many points were scored—but thinking about it more, if that's all it is, then the Seeker has a huge advantage. That wouldn't be fair to the rest of the team."

"Then just do it the way Seamus said. Let them vote," Kyle replied offhandedly.

"But if we do that, it'll just favor the most popular students," McGonagall said. "And there are too many uncertainties with voting. We might end up with someone who didn't contribute much to the match but still gets the most votes."

"This would be Hogwarts' first Quidditch Gold Medal—and likely its last. I think it should be based purely on merit, without considering anything else."

"I agree," Kyle said.

"Then what's your plan?"

"My plan?" Kyle kept walking forward. "I don't have one."

Professor McGonagall stopped in her tracks. "You mean to tell me you didn't think any of this through before making the suggestion?"

"Nope." Kyle nodded matter-of-factly. "Didn't I say yesterday? It was a spur-of-the-moment idea. I thought of it in a flash. There was no time to figure everything out."

"Then what happens next?" McGonagall's voice suddenly rose. "The 200 points are one thing, but when the match is over, how are we supposed to award the gold medal?"

"That's not my problem," Kyle said with a shrug. "I'm just a stand-in. I'll muddle through for a bit—they're not seriously expecting me to fill in for the whole year."

"Dumbledore will definitely be back by then. Let him deal with it."

McGonagall felt her temples start to throb.

She'd thought Kyle had just been joking yesterday—but he'd meant every word. He had actually made that decision without thinking it through at all.

And Dumbledore was no better. Vanishing without a word and dumping the entire mess on her shoulders.

She'd hoped Kyle might at least take some of the pressure off—but instead, he jumped in and made everything worse by stirring things up even more...

What was wrong with these two?

McGonagall couldn't help pressing a hand to her forehead. Doing the work of three people on one salary—never mind being a professor, not even a ghost deserved this kind of exploitation.

Looking at Kyle ahead of her, she found her years of professional restraint barely enough to keep her from losing her temper.

She wanted to hit him.

And right now, Kyle was wearing Dumbledore's face—so if she did take a swing, it'd be like hitting two people at once. A guaranteed win.

Even better, Kyle's status was completely different from Dumbledore's. He was much easier to hit.

And it had nothing to do with strength.

Kyle was her student. His parents had been her students too. Even if she really did hit him, Kyle wouldn't fight back.

It would be like Professor Marchbanks scolding Dumbledore. Even if he was the Headmaster, the most powerful wizard in the world, he still had to stand there quietly and pass over a cup of tea.

This was a rare opportunity. Maybe she should just...

"Professor McGonagall, Headmaster Dumbledore..."

A voice suddenly called out from behind, pulling her back to the present.

"Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall. "What are you doing here?"

"Just heading to lunch," said Hermione. "Sorry, Professor, but I wanted to ask if you'd thought more about what I mentioned earlier."

"I don't object—you can give me your paper whenever you like," said McGonagall. "But I must remind you, Miss Granger, Transfiguration Today has its own standards for evaluating submissions. My opinion can only serve as a reference."

"And keep in mind, their publishing cycle is quite long. The Most Promising Newcomer Award is only available to students, and you're already in your seventh year."

"That's alright. I just want to give it a try," Hermione said. "As long as my paper gets accepted, I'll be satisfied. If I don't win the award... well, it would be a pity, but I understand. I still didn't know enough last year."

"It's only a possibility, not a certainty," McGonagall said. "The term's just started—if things go smoothly, you still have a chance."

"Herm... Miss Granger, are you submitting something to Transfiguration Today?" Kyle asked from the side.

"Yes, Headmaster," said Hermione. "Everyone says it's the most authoritative journal on Transfiguration. I want to give it a shot."

"Just having that ambition already puts you ahead of most students. Whether it succeeds or not, the experience will benefit you."

"I think so too," said McGonagall.

"Alright, come with me," she said to Hermione. "I have a few books that should help you."

She turned and led Hermione toward her office, calling back to Kyle, "Mind the time."

Kyle responded with a nod.

He understood perfectly—McGonagall was reminding him to keep an eye on the Polyjuice Potion's duration. If he reverted in public, it would be more than awkward.

Of course, Kyle hadn't forgotten.

Once McGonagall and Hermione were out of sight, he headed alone toward the Great Hall.

If he needed to make an appearance, it had to be somewhere crowded—and at lunchtime, nowhere was busier than the Hall.

He didn't run into anyone else along the way, and had made it to the second floor when someone blocked his path.

Or rather, it wasn't that she blocked him—she was crouched at the bend in the staircase, right where the path led toward the Great Hall.

"Miss Lovegood," Kyle said in the same polite tone he used with other students, "What are you looking at?"

"Glumbumbles."

"Where?" Kyle looked where she was staring, but saw only floor tiles and a cluster of tiny bugs drawn to some cookie crumbs.

"They got scared off. They were just here," Luna said as she stood up, the bottle caps hanging from her ears jingling.

"Hello, Kyle," she greeted him. "What brings you back to Hogwarts?"

"You... must be mistaken. I'm the Headmaster," Kyle said.

"Really? Well, congratulations," Luna said brightly.

"I... okay, how did you figure it out?"

"Because I know you. Isn't that normal?" Luna smiled.

She still wore the same bizarre accessories, and those wild, colorful Spectrespecs.

Kyle had to admit—the magical world was full of inexplicable people and things. Like Tonks, a natural-born Metamorphmagus. And Luna.

Was she a natural Legilimens?

No, that didn't seem right.

His Occlumency wasn't flawless, but it was solid enough. Even Dumbledore and Voldemort shouldn't be able to read his mind.

The Wampus Cat was said to be a natural Legilimens too, but even it could be thwarted by Occlumency.

Yet Luna had recognized him instantly—without hesitation or doubt. That wasn't something Legilimency alone could explain.

After thinking it over, Kyle could only chalk it up to an extraordinary sense of intuition.

To put it simply... I feel like you're someone, so you must be that person. She didn't trust her eyes—she trusted the first thought that popped into her head.

It was even more irrational than a natural Legilimens, because it couldn't be influenced by anything—not even the most convincing disguise.

...

"Kyle, what's it like being Headmaster?" Luna asked curiously. "How does it compare to being a student?"

"It's alright. Not great. Definitely not as easy as being a student," Kyle replied. "But Luna, could you do me a favor?"

"Sure," Luna said immediately, without the slightest hesitation—even before asking what it was.

"Don't worry, it's nothing serious," Kyle said. "I just wanted to ask... could you not tell anyone you saw me here at school?"

"Why would I tell anyone?" Luna asked, tilting her head, as if Kyle had asked something completely ridiculous.

"Uh..." Kyle was momentarily speechless. He couldn't quite keep up with her way of thinking.

"Well then, I promise," Luna said calmly. "Kyle didn't come to Hogwarts. Goodbye, Headmaster Dumbledore... but I have to say, you don't look nearly as nice as you used to."

She gave her bottle-cap earrings a little swing and skipped away down the second floor corridor.

Kyle stood there, watching as she bounded down the stairs and disappeared into the Great Hall.

That was magic for you—it always had a way of producing the most unexpected surprises... or shocks.

Kyle figured that even if Tonks transformed into someone completely unlike herself, Luna would still see right through her.

He felt a bit relieved.

Thank Merlin it was Luna... and only Luna.

This kind of extraordinary intuition was irrational and had nothing to do with magical theory—but if someone else had it, the outcome wouldn't be so harmless.

Take Hermione, for example. When she suspected something, her first instinct wasn't to trust a hunch—it was to analyze whether it made logical sense. If her intuition contradicted the facts in front of her, she would instinctively dismiss it.

Take this whole impersonating-Dumbledore situation.

The moment Luna laid eyes on him, she knew he was a fake. And even if everyone else swore up and down that he was Dumbledore, she still wouldn't believe it.

If it had been Hermione, one line from Professor McGonagall would've been enough to clear him of any suspicion.