Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 839: The Blood Pact in the Barn

Dumbledore and Grindelwald’s relationship had grown steadily closer—so much so that it had become common knowledge in Godric’s Hollow.

In just a few days, the two had become inseparable, constantly studying magic and discussing their ideals together. If you saw one of them out on the street, chances were the other wasn’t far behind—you just hadn’t spotted him yet.

As for why they were spending so much time outside, it was likely because of Aberforth. He and Dumbledore were arguing more frequently these days. People passing by the Dumbledore house at night could often hear shouting from within.

Dumbledore seemed to feel he was in the wrong and never argued much with his younger brother. Put simply, he never hit back or talked back.

Grindelwald, however, wasn’t nearly as patient. On several occasions, things between him and Aberforth had nearly turned physical.

Each time, Dumbledore had to step in and smooth things over.

Kyle had learned all this from the bar. He hadn’t even stepped outside himself—everything he knew came from others.

Over the past little while, visitors to the bar had come to understand something about Kyle: he loved listening to stories. Or rather, all wizards who studied history of magic seemed to love a good tale. For instance, when Bathilda Bagshot was a child, she’d go to great lengths to ask adults about old rumors and legends.

But Kyle was different from Bathilda—he didn’t discriminate when it came to stories. Whether it was an old tale handed down through generations, an unfounded picture-book legend, or just some neighborhood gossip from the day before—as long as he enjoyed listening, he’d wave a hand and buy the storyteller a glass of the finest Firewhiskey.

Three whole Sickles, no less.

Most folks couldn’t afford such pricey drink, so with someone else footing the bill, they were more than happy to keep their ears open and share what they heard. After all, it wasn’t much trouble.

They were happy, and so was Kyle.

Lately, Grindelwald and Dumbledore had grown more and more cautious, and Kyle had nearly been caught eavesdropping more than once. Now, with just a bit of coin, he could get all the information he needed without risking exposure. Why not?

A few Sickles weren’t much. Even if he treated everyone in the bar, it wouldn’t cost him more than three Galleons. With Horlick’s sponsorship alone, he had enough to keep this going for two whole months.

“If you ask me, those two are bound to fight sooner or later,” Corder said with a sigh, seated in his usual spot and sipping his drink. “This afternoon, Albus barely managed to hold them back. In the end, it was Bathilda who stepped in and settled things.”

“What, are you worried about Aberforth?” Kyle asked.

“Of course not. They’re teenage wizards—who hasn’t clashed with others at that age? Back when I was at Hogwarts, I got into fights with classmates all the time.”

“Back in the day, us Gryffindors used to brawl with the Slytherins right out on the pitch. When our wands dropped, we’d start swinging broomsticks instead.

And let me tell you, those things were no joke. Especially the Silver Arrow brooms—thick as your wrist. Swing one of those around, and it packed more punch than any spell.”

Maybe it was the drink, but Corder suddenly drifted into reminiscing about his wild youth—most of it involving scraps with Slytherins. After a while, he shook his head.

“Ah, forget it... Actually, I’m more worried about Albus. He’s stuck between his brother on one side and his best friend on the other. He’s the one in the toughest spot.

Sometimes I even think it might be better if they just fought it out. Get it off their chests, let the storm pass—it’d probably do all three of them good... But it’s not like we can say that out loud. We can’t exactly encourage them to fight, can we?”

Corder sighed again and took another sip of brandy.

Bang...

Just then, the bar door was pushed open from outside.

Kyle instinctively glanced over his shoulder, then quickly turned back around.

Dumbledore and Grindelwald walked in, one after the other.

Grindelwald looked furious, and Dumbledore was quietly trying to calm him down.

“Well, now, that’s a rare sight,” Corder remarked, noticing them too. “Albus almost never comes here—I always figured he wasn’t the drinking type... Looks like this time the argument got pretty serious.”

Kyle said nothing. He lowered his head, slumped forward onto the table, and pretended to be drunk and asleep, trying to make himself as invisible as possible.

The two passed by, with just one seat between them and Kyle. Fortunately, they didn’t notice him.

“Who does he think he is, talking to me like that?” Grindelwald shouted angrily. “If it weren’t for you, I’d have made him pay for it a long time ago!”

“Yes, yes, I appreciate your patience,” Dumbledore said gently. “Just bear with him a little longer—for my sake.”

“New customers.” At that moment, the bar owner came over and asked, “Gentlemen, what can I get you?”

“Mead.”

“Wine.”

They answered at the same time.

The bar owner raised an eyebrow, as if he was about to say something. He glanced instinctively toward Kyle’s seat, only to see him slumped over the table, appearing fast asleep from drink.

Seeing this, the owner held his tongue and quickly turned to fetch their drinks.

He had been about to tell them they could drink for free, but with Kyle passed out and clearly unable to hear a story, he dropped the idea.

They’d simply come at the wrong time and missed out on the chance for a free drink.

Of course, Grindelwald and Dumbledore had no idea what the bar owner was thinking. Right now, they only had eyes for each other and were oblivious to everyone else around them.

Grindelwald took a sip of wine, tamping down his anger, and asked, “Before that guy showed up, you said you were planning to travel with your classmates after graduation?”

Kyle, still slumped on the table, pricked up his ears, straining to pick out their voices in the noisy room.

“Yes, with Elphias Doge. We planned a trip around the world,” Dumbledore said, taking a sip of mead.

“He’s written me several letters asking when we’ll leave, but I think I’ll have to go back on my word. I can’t leave Godric’s Hollow right now.”

Grindelwald frowned, clearly displeased.

“Because of that Aberforth?” he said coldly. “He’s a useless fool—why should he get to decide what you do?”

“Don’t say that, Gellert. He’s my brother,” Dumbledore said quietly. “And I have other reasons I need to stay here.”

There was a note of inner struggle in his voice, and Kyle guessed that Dumbledore probably hadn’t told Grindelwald about Ariana yet—or didn’t know how to bring it up.

In truth, the reason Dumbledore had abandoned his travel plans was because he needed to care for Ariana.

Come September, Aberforth would be off to school, and the responsibility of looking after their sister would fall entirely to him.

If he left an Obscurial alone at home, by the time he returned, there might be no Godric’s Hollow left at all.

Dumbledore let out another sigh.

He didn’t know how Grindelwald would react if he learned about Ariana—whether he’d distance himself—so he kept hesitating, unsure whether to speak.

After all, Obscurials were still taboo in the wizarding world, and the two of them hadn’t known each other long. Dumbledore deeply valued this friendship and couldn’t help but fear losing it.

But Grindelwald assumed Dumbledore was simply upset about not being able to travel. He slammed his cup onto the bar with a dull thud.

“You’re too soft. You have the right to choose your own path. You’re Albus Dumbledore. That idiot can’t hold you back.”

Dumbledore shook his head. It wasn’t Aberforth holding him back—it was responsibility.

“Hah...” Grindelwald drained his wine in one gulp. “Do you still remember our promise?”

“Of course,” Dumbledore replied without hesitation. “To liberate wizards—so that all wizards can live freely in the light.”

Kyle’s ears twitched again.

“Exactly. But you don’t think we can achieve that just by staying in Godric’s Hollow, do you?” Grindelwald said solemnly. “We need to go out into the world. Only by reaching every corner of it can we realize this great vision.”

His tone was brimming with fervor.

“I think it’s time we took the first step.”

“What do you want to do?” Dumbledore asked.

“To the highlands south of the valley,” Grindelwald said. “My aunt told me wizards once lived there, and it might even be connected to something I’ve been searching for...”

At that point, Grindelwald’s voice dropped so low that Kyle couldn’t make out the words.

“You mean those three things?” Dumbledore asked.

“That’s right... we must find them... only then can we achieve... our goal...”

The voices came in fragments, too faint to follow.

Then came a long silence.

“We should leave this place,” Grindelwald said clearly again. “Not for long—just as a trial run.”

Maybe it was the drink, or maybe it was the fact that Hogwarts hadn’t started yet and he felt like indulging a little, but after a brief pause, Dumbledore agreed to Grindelwald’s proposal.

“Excellent. Let’s go right away!”

Grindelwald said excitedly, “But before that, I think we should do something to mark this great first step.”

“What is it?”

“I know a special magical pact—it’s the perfect way to seal our friendship,” Grindelwald said, his voice brimming with excitement. “Come with me...”

He grabbed Dumbledore and hurried out of the bar.

Kyle lifted his head once more.

“You’re awake?” Corder glanced over. “What’s with you today? You passed out after just two drinks.”

“Probably didn’t get enough rest,” Kyle replied casually. “I’m heading back—let’s meet up again tomorrow.”

“No problem. Go on, get lost,” Corder waved him off without a care. “Don’t get in the way of my drinking.”

Kyle chuckled, stood up, and left the bar.

But he didn’t go upstairs to his room. Instead, he slipped around and quietly exited the bar.

He had a feeling something important was going to happen tonight. Even if there was a risk of being discovered, he had to see it with his own eyes—otherwise, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

After leaving the bar, Kyle moved quickly along a small path and threw on his Cloak of Invisibility. This kind of artifact was even more discreet than magic—much harder to detect.

Five minutes later, he finally spotted Dumbledore and Grindelwald up ahead. The two had reached the abandoned barn, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.

Kyle looked around.

There was no way he could follow them inside. Even with the Cloak of Invisibility, they’d definitely sense him. But if he didn’t go in, he wouldn’t be able to see anything—there were no openings around the barn.

Wait... there might be one.

Kyle turned his gaze to Dumbledore’s house nearby—more specifically, to the attic at the very top.

The barn’s window faced directly toward it. If it worked one way, it should work the other too. From there, he might be able to see into the barn. But that was where Ariana lived. If he made any noise, he could end up waking her.

Voices floated out from the barn—it sounded like spellwork...

“Forget it,” Kyle muttered, gritting his teeth. He mounted his broom and flew up to the attic roof, carefully landing and creeping into position. Lying flat, he peered through the Cloak of Invisibility and looked down toward the barn.

Perfect. The window was small, but Dumbledore and Grindelwald were standing right in the middle—he had a direct line of sight. The only issue was that the details were hard to make out.

Kyle quickly pulled out his Omnioculars—a nifty tool he’d picked up during the Quidditch World Cup a few years back. It was exactly what he needed now.

Through the lens, everything became much clearer.

He’d lost a bit of time getting into position, and by now, they had already finished the incantation. Inside the barn, the two young men stood facing each other, each wearing an expression of solemn reverence he’d never seen on them before.

Faint magical runes shimmered and spun around them, giving the dilapidated barn an unexpected air of mystery and gravity.

Grindelwald conjured a knife in his hand and cut his palm. Blood beaded at the blade’s tip and hovered in the air, encased in glowing runes.

Then it was Dumbledore’s turn.

Some of the runes slipped into the wounds on their palms. The boys clasped their trembling hands together, and more runes surged outward, flying wildly in every direction.

The runes multiplied and accelerated, forming a long silver chain that coiled tightly around their joined wrists.

The other end of the chain connected to the suspended drops of blood. As the light slowly faded, the runes solidified into diamond-shaped silver casings. The blood was sealed within, glowing with a strange, flickering light.

The diamond-shaped ornament containing Grindelwald’s blood was now linked to the chain around Dumbledore’s wrist; the matching one naturally fell into Grindelwald’s hand.

The Blood Pact was complete.

A magical contract formed from a wizard’s own blood carried immense binding power. From this moment on, it was as if the two shared one body—unable to harm each other. Even having the thought would trigger the pact and bring retribution.

In the barn, the two teenagers embraced tightly. After a brief moment, they leaned close and whispered to each other—then left together, vanishing swiftly into the night. Clearly, they were heading to the southern highlands.

Meanwhile, up on the attic roof, Kyle set his camera down with satisfaction.

He had originally bought it to collect dirt on Fred and George—a top-of-the-line magical device back then, far better than the cheap knockoffs that needed external flash charms. Its concealment was exceptional.

Looking at it now, that money had been well spent. Focused on forging their Blood Pact, neither of the boys had noticed they were being recorded from afar.

Once he got back, he’d just need to develop the photos and soak them in a bit of developing solution. Then he’d have a full, priceless set of images.

Kyle grinned as he packed the camera away and got ready to climb down from the attic...

“Who are you?”

A voice behind him made him jump.

At some point, the attic window had been pushed open, and a little girl was leaning halfway out, looking directly in his direction.

It had to be said, what she was doing was incredibly dangerous—she could fall at any second—but Kyle didn’t dare call out or warn her.

He had no idea how he’d managed to wake Ariana, but now he didn’t move a muscle, trying to stay perfectly silent and hoping she’d just go back inside.

He had the Cloak of Invisibility on. She shouldn’t be able to see him... right?

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Why are you on my attic roof? And what are you wearing? That outfit’s amazing.”

“You can see me?” Kyle asked, lifting the cloak.

She’d already pointed out his presence, so there was no point pretending. Besides, letting a little girl dangle in midair like that was far too dangerous.

“I can’t see you,” Ariana shook her head. “But I know someone’s here.”

Kyle figured the only likely explanation was the Obscurus. He wasn’t sure how it worked, but it was the only thing that made sense right now.