Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 595: Reversal

As the three men stood, Chris immediately pieced everything together.

Macnair wasn’t much of a concern, but the other two were a different story.

Karkaroff, still holding the position of Durmstrang’s headmaster, was well-known in the wizarding world, lending credibility to any testimony he gave. And Lucius Malfoy—arguably the Ministry’s most influential figure—had undoubtedly spent an enormous amount of gold securing his standing.

With these two as witnesses, it was no surprise the Ministry was treating the situation so seriously.

Still, Chris was baffled. He had assumed Karkaroff fled after the Triwizard Tournament—he never imagined the man would dare to return.

“Fine, even if that’s the case, where was the notification?” Chris said coldly, his eyes flashing with irritation. “We were only informed about the Restraint Act. In the face of additional charges, we reserve the right to refuse.”

He grabbed Kyle’s arm and turned to leave.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” came a sickly sweet, high-pitched voice.

Another figure rose—Dolores Umbridge, wearing her trademark saccharine smile.

“It was deemed necessary to conduct a surprise inspection,” Umbridge said in her cloying tone, “to ensure you wouldn’t hide the most crucial evidence.”

Her voice was shrill and grating, like nails on a chalkboard. Kyle silently vowed he’d rather listen to a Fwooper sing endlessly than endure another word from her.

But Umbridge was undeterred.

“The minister has authorized this,” she said with a beam. “Unless you wish to challenge the Ministry itself, you will comply. Of course, you can leave if you like, but the moment you step outside these doors, Wizengamot rules will render you guilty. The Aurors will arrest you immediately.”

She turned to Scrimgeour. “Rufus, I believe the Aurors are ready?”

Scrimgeour’s expression betrayed his annoyance. His eyes twitched, and it seemed he was restraining some strong emotion. After a pause, he muttered, “Yes.”

“Good,” Umbridge said, her grin widening.

Chris’s face relaxed slightly. His hand moved subtly, and Kyle noticed something fall into it—likely his wand.

Quickly stepping forward, Kyle shook his head slightly at Chris, signaling him to stay calm.

“Are you sure you want to conduct this interrogation in such a completely irregular manner?” Kyle asked, keeping his voice even.

“I’ve already made it clear,” snapped Umbridge. “This is sanctioned by the minister.”

“Well then,” Kyle said, his tone shifting into one of calm authority. “I must remind you that in addition to being a Hogwarts student, I hold another title… I am a recipient of the Order of Merlin, Second Class.

“And, as you know, every recipient of the Order of Merlin, Second Class, is an honorary member of the Wizengamot. Surely, you understand what this entails?”

Umbridge’s fake smile vanished instantly, replaced by a dark scowl.

“I see you do,” Kyle continued smoothly. “Yes, I have the right to appeal directly to the Wizengamot High Council.”

His words sent a ripple of murmurs through the room. Several people shifted uncomfortably in their seats, their expressions betraying unease.

If Kyle had been just another student, they might have pressed forward without a second thought. But as a member of the Order of Merlin, any misstep in handling his case could have severe repercussions.

A murmur rose from an older wizard in the room, his tone laced with regret. “Damn, how could I forget about that? If I’d remembered, I would’ve attended the trial against Harry Potter instead.”

It wasn’t surprising that many hadn’t considered Kyle’s Order of Merlin status. While his achievements were impressive, they lacked the fame and mystique of The Boy Who Lived.

Still, Kyle’s name was not obscure. He was the Triwizard Tournament champion, the one who collapsed the enchanted maze, the exposer of the Sirius Black case, and the young wizard who had repeatedly drawn attention to the Ministry’s oversights.

But his Order of Merlin recognition had been awarded years ago, and for many, the detail had faded into the background.

Umbridge’s expression shifted noticeably. Her eyes flicked nervously toward Lucius Malfoy, searching for some unspoken cue or guidance.

“Of course, we are well aware of all this,” Karkaroff said as he strode forward, stroking his goatee with a self-righteous air. “But we cannot allow ourselves to remain silent about the truth we witnessed, regardless of the potential repercussions. As the headmaster of Durmstrang, I would never permit myself to entertain such cowardice.”

“So, Headmaster Karkaroff is a noble wizard,” Kyle remarked, his tone calm but cutting. “Then why won’t you admit to being a Death Eater? You didn’t seem so noble when you were kneeling and begging for forgiveness.”

Karkaroff flinched visibly, yanking out a few of his whiskers in the process. He ignored the pain and barked, “You’re spouting nonsense! You-Know-Who has not been resurrected. You’re spreading rumors just like Dumbledore. I suggest the Aurors arrest you immediately—”

“Calm down, Headmaster Karkaroff,” Kyle interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “I never said You-Know-Who was resurrected. You’re the one who said it... Oh, I see! You’re trying to shift suspicion onto me to divert attention from yourself. Clever.”

“You—you…” Karkaroff’s chest heaved with anger, his hand twitching toward his wand.

“Igor,” Lucius Malfoy said sharply, frowning as he stepped in to prevent Karkaroff from losing his composure.

Ignoring Kyle, Lucius turned his attention to Umbridge and Amelia Bones. “Madams, do not be swayed by his provocations. I swear on the name of Malfoy that we witnessed him kill Mr. Theodore Nott.”

The serious expressions on Lucius and Karkaroff’s faces seemed to reassure Umbridge, who let out a small sigh of relief and plastered her sickly smile back on.

“How about Legilimency?” Kyle suggested suddenly, his tone light but pointed. “If simply saying it isn’t enough, why not let the Aurors verify your memories? It would be quick and definitive, wouldn’t it?

“Of course,” he added, “if you agree to it, I’ll agree to have my memories examined as well. That way, we can all save time.”

Lucius said nothing, and Karkaroff fell silent too.

The idea of Legilimency was out of the question. Allowing their memories to be examined would reveal not only that Kyle had been attacked but also that they had been present alongside Voldemort, engaging in hostilities.

Fortunately for them, Amelia Bones intervened.

“After 1975, the International Confederation of Wizards banned the use of Legilimency during interrogations,” she said firmly. “This method cannot be used.”

“What a pity,” Kyle said, smirking as he glanced at the three men.

Karkaroff yanked out a few more whiskers, his irritation growing by the second.

“No need for Legilimency,” Umbridge interjected in her grating voice. “Rufus, check his wand.”

Scrimgeour rose reluctantly, his expression grim. He approached Kyle but stopped before reaching for the wand.

“Accio Wand Testing Table,” he said instead.

A few moments later, a dusty, oddly shaped table flew through the door. It looked more like a stool than a table, with a groove in its surface.

“Scourgify.”

Scrimgeour cleared the dust with a wave of his wand and said in a formal tone, “According to procedure, we must inspect your wand. Place it on the testing table.”

“No problem,” Kyle said calmly, laying his wand in the groove.

Scrimgeour pointed his wand at the table. “Prior Incantato.”

The groove glowed faintly, and wisps of gray smoke began to rise, forming the faint outlines of previous spells.

“Lighting Charm.”

Another wisp appeared.

“Summoning Charm.”

Then another.

“Mending Charm.”

“Lighting Charm.”

The crowd watched intently as the sequence of spells unraveled. Their expressions varied—some looked smug, others nervous, and a few wore carefully neutral masks.

But when a particular spell appeared, the atmosphere shifted.

A vivid ball of fire emerged, its flames stretching forward to form a wide, blazing path.

“I think that’s enough,” Kyle said, breaking the silence. “Everyone here recognizes this Charm from the Triwizard Tournament. It’s clear I was at Hogwarts when this was used.”

“Unless, of course, you’re suggesting I skipped school to kill... what’s-his-name... Nott?” Kyle’s voice dripped with feigned innocence.

Scrimgeour hesitated for a moment before saying, “No,” and putting his wand away.

“No!” Karkaroff shouted, his composure cracking. “He’s hiding it! He used such low-level spell to conceal the Fiendfyre Curse. We must continue the inspection!”

“Are you suggesting,” Kyle said coolly, “that I used a wide-area Fire Charm outside school and the Ministry detected no trace of it? Is that what you mean?”

Several heads turned toward Karkaroff, their gazes skeptical.

“No need,” Scrimgeour interjected coldly.

As an experienced Auror, he was well aware of such a spell capabilities. A spell of that magnitude would leave significant traces, and there had been none—neither in St. Catchpole Village nor anywhere Kyle had been.

Scrimgeour also knew Kyle had stayed home for the holidays, leaving only briefly to visit the Leaky Cauldron via the Floo Network. Karkaroff’s accusations were not only implausible but also a thinly veiled insult to the Auror Office’s competence.

“You’re twisting my words! That’s not what I meant!” Karkaroff spluttered, his face pale as his panic mounted.

Something’s wrong! Karkaroff’s mind raced in confusion. He knew he had seen Kyle cast the Fiendfyre Curse. So why wasn’t it showing up?