Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 316: Diverting Disaster

Although Cedric had acted quickly, he’d gravely underestimated the situation—or perhaps he hadn’t realized just how popular he truly was. As the first Hufflepuff Seeker in ages, known for his looks, gentleness, and patience, Cedric was practically a celebrity at Hogwarts.

He had barely made it a hundred meters from the Great Hall when five dwarves came sprinting toward him, their golden wings flapping with each hurried step, which added a comical touch that only deepened his horror.

“Hey, you! Cedric Diggory!” the lead dwarf shouted, pushing through the crowd with arms outstretched.

Cedric’s instincts screamed at him to run, but he barely managed two steps before the dwarves surrounded him, kicking a few unfortunate students in the shins to clear the path. Three dwarves blocked his way in front, and two closed in from behind.

“I have a singing message to deliver personally to Cedric Diggory!” announced the first dwarf, strumming his harp with such fervor that Cedric flinched.

More students gathered around, intrigued by the spectacle. Cedric tried to slip away once more, but the dwarf held him fast, tugging at his robes.

“Not here… please, I’ll be late for class!” Cedric pleaded, hoping for mercy.

But the dwarf ignored him, and with a booming voice, began the song:

“His grey eyes are as captivating as a freshly squeezed Shrivelfig,

His hair shines like a well-seasoned crucible, used for thirty years,

I want him for myself, he’s truly a sight,

He’s the perfect Mr. Hufflepuff—my shining knight!”

Cedric’s face drained of color; he looked paler than any ghost in the castle. He tried to muster a laugh along with the crowd, but only a strangled groan escaped. He’d thought the dwarves’ delivery style might be a bit embarrassing, but experiencing it firsthand was a nightmare.

And to make matters worse, there were still four more dwarves waiting with messages for him…

Kyle, standing off to the side, was enjoying the scene until he felt someone tugging at his sleeve. Turning, he saw Kanna, her eyes wide with alarm.

“Run,” she urged quietly.

“What?” Kyle asked, confused.

But then he looked up and saw seven more dwarves making a beeline for him. They weren’t looking for Cedric this time.

“Oh, no… Avis!” Kyle’s wand flashed, and with a loud bang, a flock of small birds erupted from its tip, fluttering around the dwarves and obscuring their vision.

Without wasting a second, Kyle grabbed Kanna’s arm, and they bolted through the crowd, heading straight for the Hufflepuff common room. Once the barrel-shaped door closed behind them, Kyle collapsed onto a sofa, panting—not from physical exertion but from sheer relief.

Kanna was doubled over with laughter. “I’ve never seen you so panicked,” she teased, shoulders shaking. “You didn’t even look this scared when Oren tricked you into the Forbidden Forest.”

“You don’t understand…” Kyle wiped a bead of cold sweat from his forehead. “If it would make those dwarves disappear, I’d gladly take another trip into the Forbidden Forest with Oren.”

Kanna burst into laughter again, unable to contain herself.

“Don’t push it too far,” Kyle said with a smirk. “I helped you, those dwarves could easily have been coming for you too.”

Kanna wrinkled her nose, suddenly imagining the dwarves singing, “Your hair shines like freshly fried potatoes”—and a shiver ran through her. Her amusement vanished instantly, and she shot Kyle a glare.

“Just so you know,” she huffed, “they were definitely looking for you, not me, not for half a Knut!”

“Whoʼs to say?” Kyle replied. “You can’t see all the dwarves’ eyes at once.”

“Yes, I can!” Kanna insisted, her irritation plain, just as the door opened and Cedric entered, looking weary but relieved.

“Thanks for the distraction, Kyle.” He slumped onto the sofa beside them. “The birds bought me enough time to escape. It was horrifying… Do you think Madam Pomfrey would buy it if I pretended to be sick and hid in the Hospital Wing?”

“Pretending won’t work,” Kyle replied with a chuckle. “But if you’re serious… I have some Belladonna. Want to take a bite?”

Cedric chuckled nervously, shaking his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’d like to avoid nearly poisoning myself just to escape Valentine’s Day.”

...

When the door to the Hufflepuff common room creaked open again, Cedric stepped out alone, his nerves visibly frayed. After some consideration—and a pang of guilt—he’d decided to let Kanna have the Invisibility Cloak for the day. Glancing over his shoulder, he whispered, “Kyle, are you sure this plan is going to work?”

“Just give it a shot,” Kyle’s voice echoed from somewhere near the wall, making it shake slightly. “There are only twelve dwarves. If we keep them busy, they won’t have time to embarrass anyone else.”

Kyle’s plan was straightforward: if you couldn’t avoid the dwarves, keep them occupied. They would flood the dwarves with Valentine’s cards. If others could send cards, so could they, and as long as they didn’t sign their names, no one would know who was responsible.

“But… who exactly are we going to send these to?” Cedric still hesitated. The strategy was effective, but it felt a bit mean-spirited.

“Fred and George, for one,” Kyle suggested casually. “They’d love this kind of chaos and would probably find it hilarious to receive a few extra Valentine’s.”

“And definitely Lockhart—he gets a hundred cards,” Kyle added with a mischievous grin.

“Professor Snape could use a few, too,” he continued. “He’s probably not going to get any Valentine’s cards, so let’s send him fifty to lift his spirits.”

At that moment, an invisible arm emerged out of nowhere and gave Kyle a light slap.

“All right, all right—ten for Snape,” Kyle relented, laughing. “The rest can go to Lockhart.”

He then handed Cedric and the others a stack of cards filled with pre-written messages. The cards all bore a similar, overly sentimental message they’d quickly penned together back in the common room.

“Just add names and hand them over to the dwarves for delivery.”

Cedric looked down at the stack, still feeling a bit uneasy. “Are you sure sending out identical cards won’t seem… suspicious? Should we change them up a bit?”

“No need,” Kyle assured him, shaking his head. “Dwarves are used to repetitive tasks—they’re usually goblins’ assistants in weapon-forging. Even if each card says the same thing, they’ll deliver them without question.”

Kyle paused, then added, “But you’re right about one thing. Let’s make sure the names are staggered so they have to make multiple trips. That’ll keep them busy.”