Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 271: Kyle’s Solution

As the echo of Mrs. Weasley’s Howler finally faded, a few students laughed, and the low hum of conversations resumed. Ron, still hiding under the table, looked thoroughly miserable. Harry felt a wave of guilt that made it impossible to eat, and Fred and George seemed equally downcast. They couldn’t shake the worry that Mr. Weasley’s job was now at risk due to their escapade.

Both twins wanted to vent, to scold Ron for acting impulsively, for not thinking of the consequences. But in the end, they just sighed, knowing it was too late to change anything now.

Kyle observed their expressions and asked, “You’re worried about Mr. Weasley, aren’t you?”

Fred and George nodded. Of course, they weren’t fretting about Ron.

“I think I might have an idea that could help Mr. Weasley get through this review unscathed,” Kyle said after a moment’s thought.

Fred’s face lit up with an almost servile smile. “Oh, Mr. Kyle, I knew you’d have a solution.” He looked more like a lackey than Crabbe or Goyle.

George eagerly assembled a bacon and egg sandwich and placed it on Kyle’s plate. Ron emerged from under the table, and Harry and Hermione leaned in to listen.

“It’s quite simple, really,” Kyle explained. “You just have to shift the focus of the story.” He turned to Harry. “I heard you couldn’t get onto the platform, so that’s why you took the car to school, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Harry nodded. He still didn’t understand why the normally accessible entrance to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters had turned into a solid wall when they’d tried to pass through.

“So, Kyle, you’re saying the real issue is the blocked platform?” Cedric asked, frowning.

“Exactly,” Kyle confirmed.

“But we already mentioned that before,” Harry said with a sigh. “Professor McGonagall didn’t care. She thought we should have just sent an owl to notify the school.”

In his mind, if even Professor McGonagall dismissed their explanation, then the Ministry of Magic probably would, too.

”Thatʼs just because you expressed it wrong,” Kyle laughed. ”Don’t forget, Potter, that besides being a Hogwarts student, you have another identity.”

”I have... another identity?” Harry looked puzzled.

”The Boy Who Lived!” Kanna blurted out.

”Yes,” Kyle confirmed. ”Under normal circumstances, the platform would never have failed. Someone must have interfered with it. And as it happens, with all the adults gone, the Boy Who Lived was left stranded outside the platform... Could it be that the Death Eaters orchestrated this?”

Cedric gasped. ”You mean they wanted to seize the chance to kill Harry, to avenge You-Know-Who?”

Harryʼs face reflected his shock; he hadn’t considered this possibility before. Could Kyle be right? Had he narrowly escaped death?

”Exactly,” Kyle replied, taking a casual sip of lemonade. ”The Death Eaters have been plotting for ages to take down The Boy Who Lived... to avenge You-Know-Who.”

Seeing the astonished looks around him, Kyle quickly added with a grin, ”But fortunately, Mr. Weasley had the foresight to set up an emergency escape with that flying car, saving Harry’s life. Now, doesn’t that sound like a reasonable explanation?”

“Dad arranged for that car in advance?” Fred blinked. If he didn’t know Mr. Weasley’s character so well, he might have believed it.

“Yes, he did,” Kyle said with a knowing smile.

“But would the Ministry buy it?” George frowned. He doubted anyone—least of all Malfoy—would believe such a story. Malfoy’s father had a long-standing rivalry with Mr. Weasley and would seize any chance to discredit him. “It doesn’t really matter if they believe it, though; what matters is whether it’s plausible.”

“Think about it: if The Boy Who Lived were killed by a Death Eater at King’s Cross, it’d be disastrous for the Ministry. Their authority would take a huge hit, and Cornelius Fudge, as Minister, would be bombarded with howlers and might even be forced to step down.”

“Fudge is a paranoid man, especially when it comes to his position. He’ll believe it if there’s even a shred of possibility.”

“By the way, Potter, did any muggles see you fail to get through the barrier?” Kyle looked at Harry. “I mean, anyone in the station?”

“I think a guard saw,” Harry said, trying to recall. “He even asked if I needed any help.”

“Perfect. The most important piece of evidence is the memory of that muggle,” Kyle laughed.

The expressions on everyone’s faces were priceless.

“Kyle, want some Butterbeer?” Fred offered suddenly, attempting to smooth things over. On second thought, he decided it was best not to rile up Kyle—one never knew how such a prank might end.

“So, what should we do next?” Harry asked, still grappling to keep up. “Do I need to write to the Ministry?”

“A letter does need to be sent,” Kyle replied, “but not to the Ministry. It should go to her…” He pointed at an open copy of The Daily Prophet on the table.

The front page featured a photograph of the enchanted Ford Anglia soaring through the air with a bold headline: Arthur Weasley, the Villain Hiding in Plain Sight. It was written by Rita Skeeter, accusing Mr. Weasley of stealing and modifying magical vehicles and insinuating that he abused his position to extort pure-blood families. The article ended with a particularly ludicrous quote:

“One anonymous victim said, ‘Arthur demanded Galleons from me, and when I refused, he wrecked my home and stomped on my precious Unicorn-hair rug.’”

“That has to be Malfoy!” Fred’s face flushed with anger.

“He’s lying!” George slapped the newspaper in frustration. “If Dad really took bribes, maybe we wouldn’t have to save up to buy Ginny a new robe.”

“Calm down. We all know Mr. Weasley’s true character,” Kyle said. “But that’s not the issue right now.” He leaned forward, mentioning Rita Skeeter by name. “We could, of course, follow Malfoy’s example and feed her some ‘reliable information’ ourselves.”

“I get it,” Fred chuckled after a moment. “Leave that to us.”

“Just don’t make it too obvious,” Kyle warned, “let her piece it together herself.”

“No worries!” George thumped his chest in assurance. “We know exactly what to do.”

The three exchanged mischievous smiles, each fully understanding the plan without further words. Meanwhile, Harry looked at them, baffled. “What are you all talking about? So... who am I supposed to write to?”

“Fred and George will handle the letter writing,” Kyle reassured him. “Just remember, if anyone asks, say only that someone out there doesn’t want you back at school.”

“Alright, alright!” Harry agreed, still a bit anxious, as he peppered Kyle with questions on how to answer if anyone pressed for details.

But this time, Kyle didn’t provide a script. “If you’re unsure, just say nothing,” he advised calmly. Besides, there wouldn’t be any need for elaborate explanations.

Rita Skeeter would take care of the rest. That was, after all, what she did best.