Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 763: Plans and Changes

During Charms class, Professor Flitwick spent ten minutes reviewing the key points of several spells before allowing everyone to begin practicing.

The classroom quickly filled with the sound of incantations, interspersed with excited chatter. Most students were talking while absentmindedly waving their wands, but Professor Flitwick didn’t seem to mind, only stepping in to correct them when they made mistakes.

Halfway through the lesson, however, a milky-white head suddenly poked through the wall from outside.

“Sorry to interrupt your lesson, Filius,” said the Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff ghost, “but the Headmaster needs Kyle. Can he go to the Headmaster’s office now?”

The classroom fell silent at once, and everyone turned to look curiously at Kyle.

“Of course, no problem,” Professor Flitwick said immediately, pausing in his task of correcting Ryan’s handwriting. “Go ahead. These simple Charms shouldn’t be a challenge for you, should they?”

Kyle nodded, got up, and left the classroom, stepping out into the corridor.

“Brother Friar, do you know why the Headmaster wants to see me?” he asked the ghost beside him.

“I don’t,” the Fat Friar replied, shaking his head. “I ran into Albus in the foyer just as he was seeing the Ministry people off. He didn’t say what it was about, only that I should fetch you.”

“Thanks,” Kyle said.

“You’re welcome,” the Fat Friar replied before vanishing with a dive through the floor.

Kyle made his way up to the eighth floor.

The door to the Headmaster’s office was already open—he didn’t even need to say the password to enter.

The Ministry officials had left, and Dumbledore was seated behind his desk. The portraits of past headmasters snored softly in their frames.

Just as Kanna had said, Dumbledore looked utterly exhausted, his face lined with deep fatigue.

“There you are. Sit down,” Dumbledore said, gesturing to a chair in front of him.

“Would you like some tea?”

“No,” Kyle said, shaking his head.

“Alright, but I think I’ll have some,” Dumbledore mused. “Staying up all night is rather unpleasant at my age.”

With that, a steaming cup of black tea appeared on the table, accompanied—as usual—by a full plate of sugar.

“You must have quite a few questions,” he said, taking a sip of tea. “Fortunately, I have a little time right now, so I should be able to clear up some of your confusion.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to rest first?” Kyle asked, noting the exhaustion in Dumbledore’s face. “I’m in no hurry.”

“No,” Dumbledore said, shaking his head. “I have to go to Grimmauld Place in half an hour. I can rest then.”

“Alright.”

Kyle nodded and was about to decide where to start when Dumbledore spoke first.

“Let’s begin with the Room of Requirement. Yes, as you suspected, I blocked the exit and placed a plate inside that connects to the kitchen.”

“When?” Kyle asked, puzzled. “I don’t remember anything about that.”

“I only went there once,” Dumbledore said. “You were paying attention in class, so I took the opportunity to make the changes.”

“How did you do it?” Kyle asked. “I didn’t think the Room of Requirement could be sealed like that.”

“It’s one of the headmaster’s privileges,” Dumbledore explained. “I happened to find an original Hogwarts map in the library, which marked the location of the Room of Requirement and how to manipulate it.”

“The headmaster can redistribute the castle’s magic, shifting it from one place to another. Without magic, the door simply ceases to exist.”

Kyle suddenly understood.

No wonder—the entire Room of Requirement depended on the magic of Hogwarts itself. If Hogwarts were a painting, then Dumbledore’s method was akin to slicing out the door with a knife.

In that case, Kyle’s key would be useless.

“Speaking of which, I do have a question,” Dumbledore looked up. “How did you get out? I just checked, and that place is still charmless.”

“Because Rowena Ravenclaw’s memory ended,” Kyle replied. “At that time, the Room of Requirement was constructed based on her memory, so naturally, it disappeared when the memory ended.”

Just as Dumbledore had stumbled upon the map of Hogwarts by chance, Kyle’s departure from the Room of Requirement had also been purely coincidental.

Since the Room of Requirement theoretically did not exist without a request, once the room dissolved, Kyle—an unnecessary presence—was naturally expelled. This was a fundamental rule of the Room of Requirement itself and had nothing to do with whether a door was present or not.

“Does this happen all the time?”

After hearing Kyle’s explanation, Dumbledore paused for a moment, as if it was the first time he had heard of such a thing.

“Ravenclaw mentioned it the first time she took me there,” Kyle explained. “I asked her how long the memory would last, but she didn’t give me a definite answer. She only told me to stay as long as I liked and that the Room of Requirement would send me out when the memory faded.”

Dumbledore’s hand, which had been holding his teacup, paused slightly, and he let out a quiet, wry laugh.

“What a coincidence. It seems I was needlessly concerned.”

“Can you tell me why?” Kyle couldn’t help but feel a little curious. “Going to such trouble just to trap me in the Room of Requirement? I can’t see the point.”

“To prevent you from getting involved in last night’s events,” Dumbledore said softly. “About ten days ago, Phineas informed me that Malfoy had taken the Vanishing Cabinet out of the common room, and I knew then that their plan was about to begin.”

“It just so happened that I had devised a plan of my own as well. But I quickly realized that it had a serious flaw—it couldn’t be executed if you were there. Just as I was wracking my brains for a solution, I came across the map.”

Dumbledore’s voice was calm, almost detached.

“After that, everything went smoothly. You were trapped and unable to leave. But I didn’t anticipate that Malfoy would hesitate again. He didn’t summon his Death Eater allies right away but waited until last night to act.”

“What I didn’t expect was that you would come out at that exact moment.”

Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh, and his weariness seemed to deepen.

“A plan?” Kyle frowned. “Don’t tell me that letting Malfoy kill you was your plan.”

“No, no, no.” Dumbledore shook his head. “Although I am quite ready to embark on a new adventure, Malfoy could never kill me. Even if he used the Killing Curse, it would do nothing more than make me lose a few hairs.”

Kyle believed him.

Aside from the caster’s intent, the Killing Curse was directly tied to magical power.

For a sixteen-year-old student who hadn’t even graduated, it was virtually impossible to kill a wizard over a hundred years old with the Killing Curse.

It was much like Nicolas Flamel—perhaps the wizard least afraid of the Killing Curse. After accumulating over six centuries of magical power, even Voldemort himself might not be able to kill him with it.

Of course, only the Killing Curse.

“So what was your plan?” Kyle asked. “Or rather, what kind of plan requires you to throw away your wand?”

This time, Dumbledore didn’t answer. He simply shook his head in silence.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he finally said, looking up at the row of portraits above the bookshelves behind him. “Everything that has happened up to this point has proven that my plan was wrong—that it was nothing more than a selfish decision on my part. That I was merely deluding myself into believing it could work.”

Selfish?

Deluded?

Kyle frowned, unable to grasp what Dumbledore meant.

But just as he was about to press for more, it seemed Dumbledore had changed his mind. He no longer wished to discuss it.

“Anyway,” said Dumbledore, “it was a mistake to put you in the Room of Requirement, and I sincerely hope you accept my apology.”

“Ah, itʼs okay,” Kyle waved his hand.

Although Dumbledore had indeed acted a bit unceremoniously, on second thought, it seemed that he hadn’t really lost anything. In fact, he had even attended several extra classes before the Ravenclaw memory ended, simply because he had been unable to leave.

“What was Fudge’s purpose in coming here?” Kyle asked, taking the initiative to change the subject. “He seems to be overly concerned about Hogwarts.”

It was just a Death Eater raid, and though it had taken place at Hogwarts, it wasn’t as if Voldemort himself had been personally involved. There had only been about a dozen attackers, including the cannon fodder. Did something like that really warrant an evening of discussion?

“He wants me to close Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said, his tone carrying undisguised disappointment.

“Close Hogwarts?” Kyle was taken aback. “What about the younger students? Let them go out there and face the Death Eaters alone?”

“Fudge hasn’t even considered that,” Dumbledore replied. “He insists that the school is no longer safe, that it’s a mistake to have so many people gathered in one place.”

“But we all know he’s really just trying to save himself. I assume you’ve read the latest issue of The Daily Prophet?”

Kyle nodded.

He had indeed read it, and he was well aware that the Death Eaters had recently begun targeting the Ministry of Magic more frequently, seemingly as a way to establish their dominance and spread fear. So far, more than a dozen Ministry employees had been killed, including two deputy directors.

Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had also been attacked. Though she had managed to defeat her assailant, she had paid a heavy price, barely making it out alive. It had taken two months before she was discharged from St. Mungo’s.

As the head of the Ministry of Magic, Fudge had naturally become a prime target. There had been three reported attacks on him alone, though fortunately, Aurors had managed to intervene each time before any real harm was done.

“Fudge doesn’t want you to protect him, does he?” Kyle asked.

“Cornelius did imply as much. He invited me to become the Ministry of Magic’s special advisor against the Death Eaters,” Dumbledore said. “But when he spoke to me, he made it sound as though he was the hope of the wizarding world, as if defeating Voldemort had become more about securing political support than anything else.”

“He’s scared,” Kyle said.

“Understandable,” Dumbledore responded calmly. “Until now, Fudge seemed to believe that Voldemort wouldn’t dare attack Ministry officials.”

Ha, how could that be? Kyle scoffed, mocking Fudge’s naive way of thinking.

Dare not attack the Ministry? Don’t make me laugh. If there was ever going to be a full-scale battle, Voldemort’s first target would be the Ministry, along with Cornelius Fudge himself.

The decision to suspend ministerial rotation during wartime wasn’t just about making operations easier to manage—it also ensured that a Minister of Magic couldn’t simply flee the battlefield. Though there had never been a historical precedent for such an event, it was better to be cautious.

If the Minister fled during a battle, the consequences would be catastrophic. No matter how unlikely, precautions had to be taken.

Fudge was probably terrified. So many Ministry employees had already been killed, and he himself had been attacked multiple times. Of course, he wanted to find someone more reliable than an Auror to protect him.

Dumbledore was the best choice. With Dumbledore by his side, he would undoubtedly be safe.

But the problem now was that Dumbledore had to remain at Hogwarts. He couldn’t just abandon the students to serve as some kind of battle consultant.

Kyle never would have guessed that Fudge would actually suggest closing the school… It wasn’t that such an idea was completely unreasonable—after all, everyone wanted Dumbledore’s protection. Kyle was no exception.

But no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t accept the fact that it had come from the Minister for Magic himself.

“What did you say to him?” Kyle asked.

“Of course, it’s impossible,” Dumbledore said without hesitation. “The school will only ever go on holiday; it will never be closed.”

“And Fudge agreed?”

“I believe he still wants to fight for it,” Dumbledore said. “Fudge is not someone who changes his mind easily, but the school is my bottom line, and no matter what, it will not be closed.”

“He won’t hold us back?” Kyle was a little worried.

To be honest, Fudge’s greatest contribution had been getting the wizarding world to accept the truth about Voldemort’s return in the beginning. The eloquent Fudge had always been good at such things.

But after Voldemort had come out of the shadows and made his presence known, Fudge’s usefulness had quickly diminished.

In contrast, Amelia Bones, who had publicly declared in the newspapers that she would fight the Death Eaters to the very end—even after being seriously injured in an attack—had proven far more suited for the position of Minister. She had even announced her war against them from her hospital bed at St. Mungo’s.

“Don’t worry about that,” Dumbledore said, waving his hand dismissively. “The Ministry is no longer his one-man show, and even for his own safety, he wouldn’t make any irrational decisions.”

“I hope so,” Kyle said.

Dumbledore glanced at the clock. “Do you have any more questions? If not, I’m afraid I must be getting to Grimmauld Place. We have an important meeting at eleven o’clock, as we agreed yesterday.”

Kyle glanced up as well. It was already ten minutes past ten.

“Just one more, Professor.”

“Ask away, then,” Dumbledore said. “But I’m not sure I can answer in as much detail as you’d like. You know how important this meeting is, and I can’t be late.”

“Was Malfoy rescued in the early hours of the morning?” Kyle asked directly.

Dumbledore was slightly taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected Kyle to ask this.

“Where did you hear that?”

“There are no secrets at Hogwarts,” Kyle shrugged, giving a brief summary of the information and speculations he had picked up.

Dumbledore fell silent again, not speaking for nearly a minute before finally saying,

“I don’t want to lie to you. Yes, Mr. Malfoy was rescued and has now left the school.”

“But Kyle, I must say that he was actually forced into this. Voldemort gave him no choice—if he refused, Lucius and Narcissa would have been killed.”

“As far as I know, he even wept in the school bathroom, overcome with guilt and unease. He had no way out.”

Kyle listened carefully, but the more he heard, the more puzzled he became.

“Wait, Professor,” he interrupted, his expression strangely unreadable. “You don’t think I was planning to stop him, do you?”

“Ahem…” Dumbledore coughed dryly. Though he didn’t say anything, Kyle could tell that had been exactly what he was thinking, and that everything he had just said had been meant to justify Malfoy’s actions.

“I was really just curious,” Kyle explained. “I never intended to do anything to him, nor was there any need.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Malfoy never pointed his wand at me, so why would I have any reason to go after him?” Kyle said.

Hearing this, Dumbledore seemed to let out a small sigh of relief.

“Ah, yes, he was rescued,” Dumbledore said. “It was entirely my fault. I was so engrossed in my conversation with Fudge that I failed to consider the possibility that the Death Eaters might return to Hogwarts.”

“Are you sure it was the Death Eaters?” Kyle asked, watching his calm expression. “Not Professor Snape?”

Dumbledore seemed to have been burned by his black tea, his hand trembling slightly and spilling some onto the desk.

“Of course not. Severus was assigned to guard Malfoy, and he was even injured in the process.”

“Really? Then I must have been imagining things,” Kyle said. “But he certainly does have a remarkable reputation. It’s incredible that a Death Eater would be willing to return to Hogwarts—a place full of danger for them—just to rescue him.”

“He was lucky, too. If he had remained at the school, he would have been taken straight to the Ministry of Magic. And if it was confirmed that he had participated in the attack on Hogwarts, he likely wouldn’t have returned.”

“But it’s even more dangerous for him to return to Voldemort, isn’t it?”

“That depends. Antonin Dolohov was probably in charge this time. Even he fled in a panic, so Voldemort would have no reason to punish Malfoy—who is still just a minor.”

“He’ll only blame me instead.”

As he said this, Kyle stared at Dumbledore without blinking.

“Yes, who’s to say?” Dumbledore muttered, seeming a little guilty as he turned his head slightly, avoiding Kyle’s gaze.

Then, as if suddenly recalling his schedule, he quickly set down his teacup, stood up, and said,

“Alright, that’s enough for today. I really must be going now, and you should hurry back to class as well.”

Without waiting for Kyle to say anything else, he disappeared directly from his office.

Kyle glanced at the time—there were still three whole minutes until eleven o’clock.

Dumbledore’s Apparition to 12 Grimmauld Place probably wouldn’t even take three seconds.