Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 853: Return to Godric’s Hollow

Kyle finally understood why Nicolas had stayed so calm after Dumbledore’s disappearance—and why, when Kyle decided to use the Time-Turner, Nicolas had been able to prepare everything in record time.

It wasn’t just a month’s effort. He’d spent nearly three months getting ready to repair the Time-Turner, starting right from that moment.

And his insistence that Kyle be the one to use it—completely ignoring Professor McGonagall’s suggestion—made sense now too.

Nicolas had known all along. He knew Kyle would be the one to rescue Dumbledore—and that he’d succeed. That’s why he brushed off McGonagall’s proposal and even made a personal trip to Hogwarts to ensure the Time-Turner ended up in Kyle’s hands.

“Ink... Thunderbird quill... These are restricted trade items. Better not take them out just yet.”

“The Re’em horn, though—half of it could be sold to the Quidditch boutique. They’d probably pay a premium for a material this rare.”

Kyle sat at the table, casually sorting through his haul—mostly because there wasn’t much else to do at the moment.

Although Dumbledore had taken the potion Nicolas had prepared and recovered his memories, his physical condition had been so poor that Nicolas had insisted on a thorough follow-up check.

Now the spacious house was empty except for Kyle—and the small mountain of magical materials piled up beside him.

All of it had been bought a hundred years ago. Once he got back to Diagon Alley and flipped these items, he’d easily earn ten times what he paid.

And that was being conservative. Many of them were banned trade items—hard to sell through legal means. Take Thunderbird quills, for example: banned from sale two decades ago. Official channels wouldn’t touch them.

But that applied only to official channels.

It took Kyle a good half hour to sort everything out.

If not for the absurd cost of using a Time-Turner—each trip practically requiring a full Philosopher’s Stone—this kind of time-hopping material trade might’ve made a decent career.

Oh, and there were also these...

Kyle glanced toward the batch of “gifts” Willie Tom had left him.

Most of it was just novelty junk—cheap joke items, limited in variety, nowhere near as elaborate as today’s. They weren’t worth much.

Still, they were vintage. Late last century. Technically antiques. That gave them some collector value. He might be able to sell them to Fred and George for a tidy sum.

...

After a while, Nicolas and Dumbledore finally reappeared.

Kyle turned to see Dumbledore’s face had regained some color at last.

“Thank you for bringing me back,” Dumbledore said as he walked over. “I must apologize for my recklessness.”

“No need for that, Professor,” Kyle waved him off before he could continue.

“We both know what you did wasn’t reckless—it was inevitable. There’s no way you’d have just stood by and done nothing.”

“You’re right,” Dumbledore admitted with a faint, helpless smile.

Let Ariana die in front of him again?

He couldn’t.

Even if he had to do it all over again, he’d still make the same choice. The only part that left him uneasy was dragging Kyle into it.

“Still, it all turned out well,” Kyle said, standing up and gesturing toward the valuable haul beside him. “And I’ve been well compensated. Now it’s just a matter of waiting two more months and everything will wrap up perfectly.”

He was referring to the moment when he, the future version of himself, would use the Time-Turner.

Right now, Dumbledore was fine—but this timeline still had two Kyles in it. That meant he was still under the Time-Turner’s influence.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Nicolas said suddenly. “In the meantime, I’ll be preparing another potion for you—to make sure your thoughts don’t get muddled afterward.”

“Another potion?” Kyle asked. “You mean that raspberry juice-looking one?”

“Technically, it’s called an awakening draught,” Nicolas said with a smile. “Two months is no short stretch. Without the draught, time itself will start affecting your mind. Not severely—but it won’t be pleasant.”

Kyle shrugged, not denying it.

Nicolas was right. He remembered being a little... off, back then. He’d kept making small, inexplicable mistakes—as if his intelligence had dipped.

That was the influence of time.

Time naturally rejected things that shouldn’t exist—like him, someone from two months in the future.

And since both Kyles were, in essence, the same person, that rejection would act on both ends, causing confusion in their thoughts.

The longer it went on, the stronger the effect.

As for the awakening draught—according to Nicolas, its function was like a magical shield, a kind of protective layer, designed to resist time’s rejection—like a Shield Charm for the mind.

“Need a hand?” Kyle asked.

“No need. Besides, you probably don’t have the time,” Nicolas said, chuckling. “But if you get the chance, I’d appreciate it if you could bring me some double-eared knotgrass. My supply’s running low.”

“Ah—sure, no problem.” Kyle nodded.

If it had been anything else—rue, dittany, mandrake—he could’ve pulled it out of his case on the spot. But double-eared knotgrass? That he didn’t have.

Not because it was rare. The stuff just smelled awful. He hadn’t bothered planting it in his suitcase garden, and there were very few potions that actually required it.

As far as Kyle knew, it was only used in small amounts when brewing Polyjuice Potion.

”Thereʼs no rush,” said Nicolas. ”Would you like to stay for some afternoon tea?”

”Ah, sure.” Kyle glanced at the time and nodded.

To be honest, it was more like a very late lunch. He’d barely eaten all day and was starving.

Soon, the house-elf Tata brought over a large platter of sandwiches and golden, crispy pork cutlets.

It wasn’t a lavish spread, but Kyle ate with great appetite, polishing off three cutlets in one go before finally setting down his utensils.

”Finally, no more of those tooth-breaking potatoes from the Valley Bar,” Kyle said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. ”I’m starting to think they boiled those potatoes a year ago. It’s been over a month, and I haven’t had a single one that wasn’t rock hard.”

”The food there really is quite awful,” Dumbledore agreed.

”But, Professor,” Kyle suddenly remembered something and asked, ”did you know I was going to travel back in time long before it happened?”

”What makes you ask that?” Dumbledore looked over at him.

”Because you saw me—during your graduation exams,” Kyle said. ”I’d just arrived in the past and happened to come across your exams. I couldn’t help but follow out of curiosity. You even cast a Confundus Charm on Professor Marchbanks to convince her to let a total stranger like me into the exam room.”

“I used a Confundus Charm on a proctor…? Did I really do something that outrageous in my youth?” Dumbledore blinked, clearly trying to remember.

”You absolutely did.” Kyle shot him a look. ”And you were quite proud of it, too. Told me using the Confundus Charm successfully on Professor Marchbanks was the real final exam.”

A faint flush crept up Dumbledore’s face.

Truth be told, he’d completely forgotten.

But then again, considering what he’d been like in his youth—a gifted wizard raised on praise and full of confidence—it wasn’t all that surprising.

”We also ran into each other in Knockturn Alley,” Kyle continued.

”I’m sorry, I really don’t remember...” Dumbledore shook his head. ”I’ve lived through so much. If I tried to record it all, I’d probably fill an extra bookshelf at the library. It’s impossible to remember everyone I’ve met.”

”Is that so?” Kyle nodded, letting it drop.

He didn’t doubt Dumbledore’s word.

After all, even if he tried to recall everyone he’d met in his first year, he probably couldn’t.

And in Dumbledore’s case, it had been ninety-eight years since he’d graduated—and not just any ninety-eight years, but ones packed with history. Kyle figured Grindelwald alone could fill up two-thirds of that memory.

The remaining third would be shared between Voldemort and everyone else—leaving precious little for anyone else to be remembered.

Maybe that was why he kept a Pensieve in his office.

...

Once Tata had cleared away the empty dishes, Kyle glanced at the sky outside and stood up.

”Heading out?” Nicolas asked.

”Yeah.” Kyle nodded. ”I’m going to check Diagon Alley for some double-eared knotgrass. If they don’t have any, I’ll try Hogwarts. I remember there used to be a small patch near the Forbidden Forest.”

”Oh, no rush—I still have a bit left here.”

”It’s fine. I’ve got nothing else to do anyway,” Kyle said, already heading out the door.

But just as he was about to Apparate, a hand landed on his shoulder.

”Professor?” Kyle turned to see Dumbledore following after him. ”I’m just going to pick up a few things. I can handle it myself.”

”I’m afraid it’s not just a shopping trip, is it?” Dumbledore said. ”I noticed you’ve been watching the clock since earlier, like you’re keeping track of something. Did something happen while I was gone?”

Kyle hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

”In two hours, Bellatrix is going to lead the Death Eaters in an attack on Lupin’s wedding. And the Dark Lord will be there too.”

”What did you say?” Dumbledore’s hand trembled slightly.

”But don’t worry—thanks to Fawkes, no one was killed,” Kyle added quickly. ”And the Dark Lord didn’t show up until everyone had already been evacuated.”

”Then how do you know about it?” Dumbledore asked, his voice low.

”Because I was the only one still there.” Kyle shrugged. ”That was the first time I ever came face to face with him.”

”...I’m sorry. It was my fault.” Dumbledore lowered his eyes. ”If I’d waited just one more day before leaving, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.”

”Yeah,” Kyle said. ”The Cruciatus Curse isn’t exactly a pleasant experience.”

Dumbledore’s guilt only deepened at those words.

”Professor,” Kyle said quietly, ”are you thinking about how to make it up to me?”

“I can agree to any condition you name,” said Dumbledore.

“Then give me Fawkes,” Kyle blurted out.

For some reason, the moment Kyle said that, Dumbledore’s guilt seemed to ease a little.

“As much as I’d like to...” He sighed. “Fawkes doesn’t belong to me—not in the way you mean. To be precise, we’re partners. Whether he stays or goes is entirely up to him.”

“Tsk, stingy,” Kyle muttered with a pout.

He hadn’t really expected to pry the phoenix away from Dumbledore that easily, but still, he was a little disappointed.

“So, you’re heading to Godric’s Hollow?” Dumbledore asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah. Maybe it’s just coincidence that I showed up at this exact time, but I can’t help feeling uneasy,” Kyle said. “We’re talking about the Dark Lord, after all.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Are you sure?” Kyle glanced at him. “What about your health...?”

“I’m fine,” Dumbledore said softly. “The potion Nicolas gave me worked well. I still feel a little weak, but I can use magic just fine.”

“All right then.” Kyle considered it for a moment and nodded.

Having Dumbledore with him would certainly be reassuring.

...

The two of them Apparated to the outskirts of Godric’s Hollow.

Kyle, having lived here for a month before, was already familiar with the terrain and appeared on a secluded hillside.

From here, he had a clear view of Corder’s house—no, wait, it should be called the old Potter home now. The worn-down apothecary had long been replaced by a neat two-story cottage.

A second later, Dumbledore appeared beside him.

When they arrived, the wedding was in full swing. Guests were out on the dance floor, moving in time with the band’s music.

Fred and George were there too. With only a small crowd in attendance, they’d taken it upon themselves to liven things up with their signature tap dance routine.

Harry was present as well, playing the part of server—handing out drinks to anyone who stepped off the dance floor.

Kyle couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“What is it?” Dumbledore asked, curious.

“Oh, just a funny memory,” Kyle replied. “Corder once told me he wanted me to be his child’s godfather.”

“Corder Potter?” Dumbledore paused, then couldn’t help but smile.

By his calculations, Corder would be Harry’s great-great-grandfather. His son, Henry Potter, was Harry’s great-grandfather.

Dumbledore could only imagine how Harry would feel if he learned that his classmate had become the godfather of one of his ancestors.

It probably wouldn’t sit too well.

...

They waited a little longer as the sky slowly darkened.

“When exactly is Bellatrix supposed to arrive?” Dumbledore asked.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a swirling black mass appeared in the distance... the cloaks of the Death Eaters.

“They’re here,” Kyle said.

Bellatrix strode in front, her face twisted in a manic grin. Behind her, two barely conscious figures were tossed to the ground by the Death Eaters.

“It’s the Tonks couple!” Dumbledore recognized them at once, and he quickly pieced together how Bellatrix must have tracked down the Potters’ ancestral home—likely through them, despite the Fidelius Charm.

What followed happened exactly as Kyle remembered.

Bellatrix forcefully dispelled the protective enchantments, plunging the entire wedding into chaos.

Dumbledore instinctively moved to intervene—but Kyle stopped him.

“It’s all right,” Dumbledore said. “The other me has already left. It’s fine if I step in now.”

“I know,” Kyle replied. “But you weren’t there in my memory.”

His eyes narrowed slightly as he quickly connected past events to the current timeline.

That meant Dumbledore had been here with him at the time—but hadn’t intervened. Why not?

Given Dumbledore’s personality, especially when it came to taking responsibility for his mistakes, he would never have stood idly by. Just moments ago, he’d been ready to act again without hesitation.

Yet Kyle had no memory of Dumbledore appearing. Not once.

There was only one explanation for that: something more urgent had delayed him—something that left no time to help.

And what could be more urgent than saving members of the Order of the Phoenix?

There was only one thing: intercepting Death Eater reinforcements, buying time for those at the wedding.

The realization hit Kyle in an instant.

“Professor, if you went up against the Dark Lord right now... could you hold him off? Or maybe even beat him?”

“Tom...” Dumbledore fell silent for a moment. He, too, had guessed what Kyle was thinking. “If it’s just to stall him—yes.”

“Then I think we’ve found our task.”

Kyle scanned the area, pulled out his broom, and flew south—toward the place where Voldemort had appeared.

The only one who could have held Dumbledore back—kept him from helping the Order—was Voldemort.

If Kyle’s hunch was right, Voldemort hadn’t arrived at the end of the battle. He’d been on his way much earlier—delayed by something.

And they were that delay.