Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 565: The Maze

The Care of Magical Creatures class went smoothly, with no injuries reported by the time it ended.

As the students left Hagrid’s pen, they walked back toward the castle, chatting and laughing.

When they reached the castle gates, they encountered a group of first-year students heading out. From their direction, it seemed they were on their way to flying lessons.

Speaking of flying... This time of year was typically the most stressful for Quidditch players, as they prepared for the final game of the season. All four teams usually crammed every available moment into training, leaving the pitch constantly in use.

But with the Quidditch tournament canceled due to the Triwizard Tournament, the usual buzz of activity had vanished, replaced by an eerie stillness. Kyle had found the change disorienting at first.

Cho, however, seemed unsettled for an entirely different reason.

One weekend, she approached the group with a mysterious expression. “Have you noticed? There’s been one less ghost in the castle lately.”

“No way…” Fred squinted, scratching his head. After a moment of thought, he shook his head. “I think all the ghosts are here.”

“Nearly Headless Nick… Peeves…” George began counting them off. “And Moaning Myrtle—she’s not staying confined to that washroom anymore. I’ve seen her roaming around a few times recently.”

“Not them,” Cho said. “It’s the Ravenclaw ghost—The Grey Lady.”

“Oh, the Grey Lady?” Fred asked casually.

Cho nodded. “She used to appear every evening at six o’clock in our common room. She’d stand in front of a statue and just stare blankly. But she hasn’t shown up even once lately.”

“I see,” Fred said, nodding half-heartedly. “Maybe the Grey Lady just doesn’t want to go there anymore?”

“Kind of like Nearly Headless Nick,” George added. “He used to haunt the tower more, but lately, he’s taken to hanging around the busy foyer.”

“No, we’ve searched the whole castle—there’s no sign of the Grey Lady,” Cho insisted. “Do you think it’s possible for a ghost to just… vanish into thin air?”

“In theory, yes,” Cedric said, his tone serious. “But as far as I know, that’s never happened before. According to Hogwarts, A History, the ghosts have been here for centuries, and not a single one has ever disappeared.”

While they debated the matter, Kyle remained silent, listening carefully.

He knew exactly where the Grey Lady was: the Room of Requirement. She had been staying there ever since the Easter holidays, alongside the Diadem.

But Kyle had given his word to keep her whereabouts a secret, and he wasn’t about to break that promise.

Fortunately, Cho seemed more curious than truly concerned. Her interest in the Grey Lady’s absence was fleeting, and the conversation soon shifted to the Triwizard Tournament.

Everyone was eager to speculate about the final task—what it would entail and how the champion would be decided.

Kyle, for his part, had no concrete answers. The only thing he could confidently predict was that Hippogriffs would somehow play a role.

...

After the holidays, the weather grew noticeably warmer, and students began shedding their heavy robes in favor of lighter attire.

By the last week of May, the days were longer, and the anticipation for the Triwizard Tournament’s final task was palpable.

After a Transfiguration class that week, Professor McGonagall kept Kyle back as the other students filed out.

“You’re to go to the Quidditch Pitch tonight at nine,” she informed him. “Mr. Bagman will be there to explain the third task to the Champions… Good luck.” She offered him a rare smile before turning away.

That evening, at precisely 8:30, Kyle left the Hufflepuff Common Room, making his way toward the Quidditch Pitch. The castle felt quieter than usual, the corridors bathed in dim, flickering torchlight.

As he walked through the empty foyer, Kyle suddenly spoke aloud, his tone casual but sharp.

“I say, why are you following me?”

For a moment, there was no response—just silence and the faintest hint of movement in the air beside him. Then:

“Because we’re curious, of course,” came a voice from next to him. It sounded like Fred… or maybe George. It was impossible to tell without seeing their faces.

“Exactly,” added the other twin. “We didn’t spend half the year perfecting the Disillusionment Charm just to sit around, did we?”

The air rippled slightly, then stilled again as they vanished back into invisibility.

“Oh, Cedric, you’re stepping on me!”

“It’s not me, I’m over here,” Cedric’s voice chimed in from the other side of Kyle.

“Fred, you did that on purpose!”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to,” Fred—or possibly George—retorted defensively.

...

As Kyle and his invisible followers walked through the foyer, Madam Maxime and Fleur appeared from the opposite direction, crossing the grounds.

Fred and the others immediately fell silent, halting their pursuit of Kyle and slipping away unnoticed.

“What do you think it is?” Fleur asked, breaking the silence as she walked beside Madam Maxime under the cloudy night sky. “I think it’s an underground tunnel, and we’ll be searching for a treasure.”

Madam Maxime glanced back at her but refrained from commenting. Instead, she quickened her pace, taking the lead.

“That would be easy enough,” Kyle remarked as he caught up with them. “We could borrow a few Nifflers from Hagrid and let them handle it. Those little guys could probably dig up the Triwizard Cup in no time.”

Fleur chuckled, but they continued across the dark lawn in silence, heading toward the Quidditch Pitch.

When they arrived, they passed through a tunnel and emerged onto the pitch.

“Oh, this is spectacular,” Fleur murmured, her eyes widening.

The once-flat pitch had transformed into a labyrinth of towering, intricate hedge walls that twisted and turned across the field.

In the center, Bagman stood talking with Dumbledore, and nearby were Chris and Barty Crouch—whom Kyle hadn’t seen in a long time.

As they approached, Kyle overheard Bagman whispering to Dumbledore.

“Poor old Barty,” Bagman muttered. “The investigation has taken such a toll on him. He didn’t want to be involved again, but we thought he’d contributed so much to the Triwizard Tournament that he deserved to see it through.”

“Of course, he’s not in any state to be scoring points—so the referee won’t change.”

Noticing Kyle and Fleur, Bagman abruptly shifted gears.

“Oh, hello there!” he greeted them, his tone brightening. “What do you think? Spectacular, isn’t it?

“In another month, Hagrid will have these hedges grown to twelve feet tall! Oh, and look—Krum’s here, too.”

Sure enough, Viktor Krum was making his way onto the field, his usual stoic demeanor unshaken.

“Well, I think you can guess why we’re here,” Bagman said cheerfully.

“A maze,” Kyle said simply.

“Exactly!” Bagman exclaimed. “The Triwizard Cup will be placed at the center of the maze. The first Champion to touch it will be declared the winner. Simple and clear, isn’t it?”

Bagman beamed as he explained further. “The maze will be filled with obstacles—Magical Creatures provided by Hagrid, plants from Professor Sprout, and spells that you’ll need to counter. It’ll be quite the adventure!”

“Wait,” Krum said gruffly. “Getting the trophy makes you the Champion? What about our previous scores—do they count for nothing?”

“Oh, they still matter,” Bagman reassured him. “The Champion with the most points will enter the maze first.

“Mr. Krum,” he said, nodding at Kyle, “you’ll be entering second, and Miss Delacour will go last.”

“Of course, the lead is only temporary. In the end, victory depends on your ability to navigate the obstacles and reach the Cup.”

“Well, if there are no other questions, let’s head back to the castle—it’s getting a bit chilly out here.”