Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 585: The Unscathed Professor

Upon reflecting on the matter, Kyle shook his head and said, “Sorry, Harry. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you—it’s just impossible.”

“Sirius’s house is protected by the Fidelius Charm. Even if someone other than the Secret Keeper tells you the address, you won’t be able to hear it.”

Hearing Kyle’s explanation, Harry looked deeply disappointed. He had been looking forward to this for a year—the chance to leave the Dursleys and live with Sirius. Yet, a year later, he still had to return to Privet Drive, as though nothing had changed.

“Don’t look so glum, Harry. Think of something happy,” Fred said from the side. “At least Sirius is okay, isn’t he?”

“And Professor Moody…” George added. “The school year’s over, but they’re all fine. Not injured, not caught by Dementors or Aurors—completely intact.”

“Yes,” Cedric chimed in. “No wonder I felt like something was missing this year. In previous years, no Defence Against the Dark Arts professor ever lasted this long.”

At this, everyone seemed to perk up. Even Harry temporarily forgot about Sirius.

“Do you think it’s because there were two professors this year?” Ron asked excitedly. “Maybe the curse can only target one person, and if there are too many, it doesn’t work.”

“I don’t think so,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “I read that Hogwarts has already replaced more than fifty Defence Against the Dark Arts professors. If it were that simple, Dumbledore would’ve figured it out by now.”

“Is it possible he really doesn’t know?” Fred asked. “I mean, he might not even be able to find two professors. One a year might already be pushing it.”

“Yeah,” George agreed. “I remember Bill saying that one year, they didn’t even find a Defence professor until a month into term.”

“I remember that too,” Fred said, laughing. “And then, at Christmas, the professor ended up in St. Mungo’s after getting drunk and messing up the Charms.”

“And they never found a replacement after that,” George added, grinning.

Everyone burst into laughter.

It was true—Dumbledore’s biggest challenge every year was finding a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. During the holidays, he became what Fred and George jokingly called “Unwelcome Dumbledore.” If that was the case, it really might be impossible for him to find two professors at once.

Harry laughed along with them. If he had a choice, he would rather have Sirius as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor next year than live with him over the holidays. After all, the holidays only lasted two months, but as a professor, Sirius would be at Hogwarts the entire school year. When he thought about it, it seemed like a much better deal.

Of course, having both would be ideal.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Ron said, patting him on the shoulder. “Mum will convince Dumbledore to let you stay with us this summer, just like she did for the Quidditch World Cup.”

“I hope so,” Harry said.

Even if he couldn’t stay with Sirius, The Burrow was still a wonderful place to spend the summer. However, he wasn’t sure if the Weasleys would have the time this year. After all, their family would likely be involved in efforts to stop Voldemort’s return—a daunting task Harry didn’t want to make harder for them.

As they talked, the train began to slow down.

“We’re here,” said Kanna, glancing out the window.

The Hogwarts Express soon pulled into Platform 9¾. Chaos erupted in the aisles as students gathered their belongings and began to disembark, filling the air with noise and excitement.

“Harry,” said Kyle as they queued up to go through the barrier, “you’d better be careful this year and stay on your guard.”

“I know,” Harry replied with a nod. “Because of Voldemort, right? Sirius told me the same thing. He said Voldemort might come looking for me and that I should let Professor Dumbledore know if I notice anything unusual.”

“That’s only part of it,” Kyle said, glancing at the line ahead of them. “The other thing you need to watch out for is the Ministry of Magic.”

“The Ministry?” Harry asked, frowning in confusion. “Why?”

“Because they’ll probably try to make trouble for you,” Kyle explained. “Remember that article in The Daily Prophet? The one that made it seem like you were just seeking attention?”

Harry nodded. He hadn’t forgotten that article—it still irritated him to think about it.

“That was just the beginning,” Kyle continued. “If you keep insisting that Voldemort has returned…”

Kyle lowered his voice. “They don’t want to believe he’s back, and they certainly don’t want anyone else to believe it, either. So if you keep saying it, you’ll be at odds with the Ministry. They’ll try to discredit you, make you look like a delusional madman in everyone’s eyes. That’s the only way they can prevent people from taking you seriously.”

“But it’s the truth!” Harry exclaimed, his face flushing with frustration. “You saw it too!”

“But Cornelius Fudge didn’t,” Kyle said evenly. “Unless you can drag Voldemort straight to the Ministry and prove it to everyone, Fudge won’t believe you. And you know that as well as I do, especially after what happened in the Hospital Wing.”

Harry fell silent. Kyle was right. Fudge’s reaction to hearing Voldemort’s name had been extreme—so much so that he’d argued with Dumbledore and severed ties with him.

“But why me?” Harry asked, still struggling to understand.

“It’s simple,” Kyle said. “They can’t go after Professor Dumbledore—he’s too powerful, and they’re afraid of him. But you? You’re different. You’re just a student. A student with a bit of fame, sure, but fame isn’t the same as power.”

“They have ways of dealing with you. For example, they could orchestrate an incident—maybe drop a Magical Creature or something else onto Privet Drive. You’d have to use magic to defend yourself, and once you do, you’d be breaking the rule against underage magic. That would give them grounds to expel you.”

“What? Expel me?” Harry’s voice rose in alarm. “You must be joking! Professor Dumbledore’s the headmaster—they can’t expel me!”

“Yes, but only if you haven’t done anything wrong,” Kyle said calmly. “The notice sent out before the holidays was clear: if a student is caught using magic outside school, they could face expulsion.”

“Of course, you don’t need to panic. The Ministry still has an image to maintain. Even if they have this plan, they can’t be too blatant about it. Just be extra cautious in your daily life, and you’ll be fine.”

“What should I do?” Harry asked, his nerves showing.

“Stay in crowded places or neighborhoods as much as possible,” Kyle suggested after a moment of thought. “That’s the easiest way to stay safe. If there are other people around, they’ll think twice before trying anything.”

“Or you could carry a camera with you. If you notice anything strange, take a picture. It might slow you down if you need to make a quick escape, but at least you’ll have evidence.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry said, lowering his head as he mulled over the suggestions.

Before they realized it, they had passed through the barrier and emerged into King’s Cross Station, where Mrs. Weasley was waiting for them.

“Goodbye, Harry,” Kyle said. “Remember what I told you—stay cautious, no matter what.”

“I will,” Harry replied. “Thanks for the advice.”

“You’re welcome.”

...

They parted at the station, and Mr. Weasley soon arrived in a brand-new car. It was clearly not a Ministry car—he must have borrowed it from someone.

Once everyone had piled in, the car turned and headed off toward St. Catchpole Village.