Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 729: Kyle: Am I Some Kind of Dark Lord?

“Good news, Kyle!”

Early the next morning, Grace, the new Quidditch team captain, excitedly found Kyle in the library, where he was absorbed in his book.

“What’s so exciting?” Kyle asked, setting the book down. “Did You-Know-Who get defeated by Headmaster Dumbledore last night?”

“Huh?” Grace blinked, startled. “Really? Seriously?”

“I’m asking you,” Kyle replied, glancing up at her. “Didn’t you say you had good news?”

“No, no, it’s not that…” Grace finally understood what Kyle was implying and shook her head quickly. “The news I’m talking about has nothing to do with You-Know-Who. It’s about the team.”

“Oh.” Kyle’s interest visibly waned, but he still asked politely, “What’s going on?”

“Do you know who we’re playing in our first game?” Grace asked with a hint of excitement.

“Gryffindor?” Kyle guessed casually.

“How did you know?” Grace stared at him in surprise. “Did Madam Hooch tell you?”

“No, I just guessed,” Kyle said with a shrug.

“Well, you’re spot on—it is Gryffindor,” Grace whispered conspiratorially. “And I’ve got some great news: their Keeper, that Weasley, is in dreadful shape. Isn’t that good for us?”

“Dreadful?” Kyle asked, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“Mikel and I caught a glimpse of their practice…” Grace began, then quickly added, “Don’t get me wrong—it’s perfectly normal to gather intelligence like this.”

Noticing Kyle’s expression shift slightly, she shrugged. “Every team does it. Maybe you didn’t notice, but a month before last year’s final, the Weasley twins kept hanging around the pitch during our training sessions. They weren’t there for a picnic.”

“Okay,” Kyle nodded. “Go on.”

So that explained it. Fred and George’s frequent visits to their practices hadn’t been about testing a new joke product. Now it all made sense.

“Where was I?” Grace paused, thinking. “Oh, right—the Keeper.”

“During our most recent… intelligence gathering, we noticed that the Weasley Keeper kept getting distracted and missed some of the simplest catches.”

“As Mikel put it, not every Weasley is a Quidditch genius.”

Grace’s excitement was hard to miss.

“I remember Ron Weasley is good friends with their captain, Harry Potter.”

“That’s right,” Kyle agreed, nodding. “They’re practically inseparable—you’d think they could share a single robe.”

“Share a robe?” Grace froze, looking bewildered. “I know the Weasleys aren’t exactly wealthy, but surely they can afford more than one robe… A second-hand one costs less than a Galleon.”

“No, no,” Kyle waved his hand dismissively. “It’s just a way of saying they’re really close.”

“Oh.” Grace brushed it off and continued. “Well, I’m guessing he’s only still on the team because of his friendship with Potter. If it were up to me, there’s no way he’d be Keeper with performances like that.”

Kyle nodded in agreement.

Ron’s talent was actually quite promising. Back when they used to play Quidditch in St. Catchpole Village, his skills had even earned recognition from Charlie. But Ron’s mindset was his Achilles’ heel. At critical moments, his confidence would collapse, drastically affecting his performance. This had been evident in last year’s matches.

Out of Gryffindor’s three games, Ron had been completely out of it in two, looking like he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing.

Normally, this kind of performance would warrant a substitution. Former captain Angelina Johnson had done just that. But Harry, after becoming captain, brought Ron back onto the team and kept giving him chance after chance, reluctant to hurt his best friend’s feelings.

In Harry’s own words: Ron could do it—he was just too nervous.

Harry used this reasoning to convince himself that he wasn’t playing favorites and then exaggerated the flaws of Ron’s competitors to justify his decision to others.

…

“Potter made a big mistake. He abused his captain’s power. But this is good news for us,” Grace said excitedly. “If Ron Weasley is still in this condition on the day of the official competition, we’ll definitely win!”

The more she spoke, the more animated she became, her voice growing louder with each word.

“What are you doing? No noise is allowed in the library!”

Madam Pince appeared, furious, and promptly expelled both Kyle and Grace.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Grace apologized quickly as they stood outside the library door. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“Forget it, it’s fine…” Kyle, who had been caught up in the situation, sighed helplessly. “I’ll just ask someone to borrow the books for me later.”

“So, will you participate in next week’s competition?” Grace asked eagerly, her eyes bright with anticipation. “We have a good chance of winning.”

It was only then that Kyle realized her true intent.

At the start of the semester, Kyle had approached Madam Hooch to request a change in his role, moving himself from the starting lineup to the bench. According to the rules, though, he’d need to speak with her again to make adjustments if he wanted to play.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Kyle nodded. “Okay, I’ll play.”

He had originally planned to substitute for someone because he was supposed to visit the Ministry over the weekend. But now that the fireplace connecting to it had been sealed, his schedule had suddenly opened up, leaving him free to participate in the game.

Grace, practically glowing with excitement, rushed off to inform Madam Hooch about the lineup changes.

Kyle glanced back toward the library, where Madam Pince was still visibly fuming. Clearly, returning to his reading wasn’t an option. With a resigned shrug, he turned and headed toward the common room.

…

In the following days, Hogwarts enjoyed an unusual period of peace—no attacks, no signs of dark magic. Even The Daily Prophet scarcely reported any Death Eater activity. It was as though the Wizarding World had reverted to how it had been years ago.

Yet Kyle, who had remained at Hogwarts, couldn’t shake his doubts. He had no way of knowing whether things were truly as calm as the papers claimed. Instead, he found himself noticing peculiar happenings around the school—most notably, Malfoy.

Recently, Kyle had barely seen Malfoy at all. The rare instances they crossed paths were during meals in the Great Hall. What struck Kyle as even stranger was that every time he approached Malfoy to say a few words of thanks, Snape would materialize like a shadow and whisk Malfoy away without explanation.

“Honestly, when did Snape and Malfoy become such good friends?” Kyle grumbled during Herbology. “Snape cares so much about Malfoy, he might as well use a Permanent Sticking Charm on him.”

“What do you want with Malfoy?” Kanna asked, standing nearby.

“To thank him, of course,” Kyle replied automatically. “He helped me in Hogsmeade—I’d be rude not to show my appreciation.”

“If that’s the case, you could always go to his office,” Kanna suggested. She donned her protective gloves and carefully uprooted the blue mushroom in front of her, placing it onto a nearby stake.

The mushroom sprouted seven or eight tiny tentacle-like shoots from its base, gripping the stake firmly. Within moments, the stake began to dry out, the sap visibly draining away. It was a fascinating process—part of their assignment on cultivating Bursting mushrooms.

After ensuring the mushroom was properly secured, Kanna continued, “Malfoy’s been spending a lot of time in Professor Snape’s office lately. I’ve seen him there often when I’ve had detention.”

“You have?” Kyle asked. “So, he’s not in the common room at night?”

Kanna nodded. Her detentions, which she strategically scheduled to dodge Slughorn’s dinner invitations, usually took place in the evenings. “I don’t think so. Malfoy seems to be in detention too—Professor Snape always escorts him back right before curfew.”

“Tsk, escorts him back?” Kyle scoffed. “Is he afraid Malfoy’s going to get lost?”

Kanna didn’t respond. Instead, she gently returned a fallen Bursting mushroom to the soil. After a pause, she suddenly asked, “That day in Hogsmeade… Malfoy was the one who put Katie under the Imperius Curse, wasn’t he?”

“What makes you think that?” Kyle asked, frowning.

“I’m guessing,” Kanna replied. “Just like I’ve been avoiding Professor Slughorn, Malfoy must be avoiding someone too.”

“And why do you think that ‘someone’ is me?” Kyle raised an eyebrow.

“Because you’re the only one actively looking for him,” Kanna said simply. “With that in mind, the rest is easy to figure out.”

”The only notable interaction you two have had recently was in Hogsmeade. If Malfoy really helped you, he wouldn’t need to avoid you. Which leaves just one other possibility… Malfoy gave Katie that cursed necklace and told her to target you.”

Kyle froze mid-task, then muttered, “Kanna, you might be the smartest witch I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” Kanna said with a small smile. “So, was I right?”

“Sort of,” Kyle admitted. “I can confirm that the necklace is connected to Malfoy, but I’ll need to hear the details from him directly.”

“Unfortunately, Snape hasn’t given me the chance. Well… I mean, Professor Snape.”

“He must have his reasons,” Kanna said quietly. “I’ve noticed he’s been acting strangely too—like he’s hiding something.”

Kyle put down the mushroom he’d been working on, giving Kanna his full attention.

“For instance,” she continued, “this year during the holidays, he seemed desperate to get me out of England. Even though exams didn’t start until August, he sent me away the day after the holidays ended—and did the same right after the exams were over.”

“Maybe he was worried you’d run into You-Know-Who,” Kyle suggested.

“That’s what I thought at first,” Kanna said, frowning. “But… something didn’t feel right about it.” She stared at the dried-up stake in front of her, her expression troubled.

“And at school, he’s been keeping his distance from me. Whether it’s in private or in public, he insists I address him as ‘Professor Snape’—never anything else.”

“It’s like… he’s afraid of someone,” she finished softly, her voice tinged with certainty.

Kyle studied her carefully, so absorbed in her words that he didn’t notice Professor Sprout approaching their table.

“No more whispering,” Professor Sprout said sharply, her eyes scanning the row of Bursting mushrooms in front of Kyle and Kanna. “You’re already far behind the others.”

“Yes, Professor, we’ll get started right away!” Kyle replied quickly.

Professor Sprout gave a satisfied nod and moved on to check on the other students.

For a while, neither Kyle nor Kanna said a word. They both focused—or at least tried to—on the task at hand, though their distracted minds inevitably slowed their progress.

It wasn’t until ten minutes before class ended that they finally managed to complete the assignment. Kyle pressed the Bursting mushroom he was holding into the soil, dusted off his hands, and glanced at Kanna, a look of resolve crossing his face.

He pulled out his wand and gave it a quick wave. “Muffliato!”

“Kanna...”

“Hm?” Kanna turned her head, her expression curious.

“Do you want to know what Professor Snape is up to?” Kyle whispered. “I might know something about it.”

“Oh, that.” Kanna’s lips curled into a playful smile as she shook her head. “I don’t want to know.”

“What?” Kyle blinked, caught off guard.

“I said, I don’t want to know,” Kanna repeated calmly. “Professor Snape has his reasons for keeping things to himself. I can’t help him right now, so the best I can do is respect his plans and not make him adjust them because of me.”

“You trust Snape that much? What if he’s...”

“Of course I trust him,” Kanna interrupted, her tone unwavering. “Just as I trust you.”

“Fine,” Kyle muttered, pulling off his gloves and swapping them for sturdier dragon-hide ones. “Not the answer I was hoping for... Hand me the basin.”

Kanna passed him a small basin filled with gray pellets that reeked horribly. It was Professor Sprout’s homemade fertilizer—highly effective, but its pungent smell could make anyone consider casting a Bubble-Head Charm for survival.

“If I don’t move this far enough away, we’re all going to have to sit through the rest of class gagging,” Kyle muttered, his nose wrinkling.

As Kanna scooped some of the fertilizer into the soil, her movements slowed, and she hesitated, as if debating whether to speak. “Kyle, could you... um...”

“Okay, I get it,” Kyle interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “I won’t pick a fight with Malfoy for now.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Kanna said, shaking her head. “He used a dark magic object against you. That’s completely unforgivable. What I meant was... I’ll help you figure out what happened, if you trust me.”

Kyle smiled faintly. “That’s not really necessary. Malfoy kind of saved himself, didn’t he? At the end, he knocked over the package so I wouldn’t end up with it.”

“If it weren’t for that, it wouldn’t matter where he hid—not even in the headmaster’s office. Not even Professor Snape could keep him out of trouble.”

Kyle poured some fertilizer onto a Bursting mushroom, then tossed the basin far away as if ridding himself of the smell.

“And besides, I think I already understand most of what happened. I just wanted to confirm it by asking Malfoy directly.”

“Is that all?” Kanna sighed, seeming relieved. “I thought you might want to... well, never mind.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Wait—you don’t think I wanted to kill him, do you?”

Kanna’s cheeks reddened slightly, and she hesitated. “No, of course not. I just... overheard something earlier. Professor Snape said that was the only way to keep him alive.”

“Absolutely not!” Kyle’s voice rose slightly in disbelief. “That’s complete nonsense. Killing your classmates at the first sign of trouble? What do I look like, the Dark Lord?

“Even Voldemort wasn’t that extreme when he was at school. And Snape—he’s a professor. Spreading lies like that is just... awful!”

Kyle shook his head in frustration. He had never seriously considered harming Malfoy, even after everything. They were still students, after all, and Malfoy wasn’t even of age. At most, Kyle had imagined giving him a stern lecture—something far from what Snape seemed to be insinuating.

“Well... maybe I misheard,” Kanna mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kyle scoffed but didn’t press the issue. He retrieved the basin he’d discarded earlier and conjured a bag from a nearby dead branch. Filling it with a generous amount of fertilizer, he tied it up and tucked it away carefully.

Kanna stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Kyle said, brushing off her expression with feigned nonchalance. “I’m a generous person. I’m not going to stoop to Snape’s level just because he spread a little slander about me.”

“And no, I’m not planning to put this in his lunch. Compound fertilizer mixed with rice? Please—I’ve never even thought of such a thing,” he added with mock innocence.