Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 856: Long Time No See

12 Grimmauld Place.

Since everyone had gone to Lupin’s wedding, the place was completely empty. But Kyle knew Mrs. Weasley and Sirius would be back soon, so he didn’t go inside. Instead, he helped Dumbledore into a nearby alley.

Dumbledore was in bad shape—completely drained, barely standing without Kyleʼs support. Still, his expression remained calm, as though he didn’t care at all.

“How are you feeling, Professor?” Kyle asked, taking out a bottle of Invigoration Draught. After drinking it, Dumbledore finally regained a bit of strength.

“I wanted to see if I could defeat Tom outright,” he said, “but I clearly overestimated myself.”

He swayed as he stood. “The potion Nicolas gave me only temporarily suppresses the effects of time rejection. In my current condition, it’s nearly impossible to cast magic powerful enough to defeat Tom.”

“It’s fine, this is already more than enough,” Kyle said. “Besides, you couldnʼt have killed the Dark Lord. Iʼve seen him before.”

“That’s what makes it all the more regrettable,” Dumbledore said, glancing around.

“Grimmauld Place… Why did you bring me here? You can’t be seen by them right now. It’d be better to go somewhere else.

“I’d suggest Nicolas’s estate—or even The Hog’s Head would do.”

“Fawkes thought the same,” Kyle chuckled. “After rescuing everyone, he dropped them off at The Hog’s Head. Aberforth thought you were dead.”

“He must’ve been delighted,” Dumbledore said, his eyes dimming.

“No, actually—quite the opposite. He was really worried about you,” Kyle said. “Not only did he offer everyone a safe place, he even delivered someone personally to get news about you.”

“Oh, look—there he is.”

Following the direction of Kyle’s finger, Dumbledore saw Aberforth Apparate in with two people in tow: Mrs. Weasley and Sirius.

But the two of them looked terrible—pale-faced and clearly nauseated. The moment they landed, they collapsed to the ground like they were about to vomit up everything they’d ever eaten.

“What happened to them?” Dumbledore asked, puzzled.

“Professor, did you forget what I said earlier?” Kyle whispered. “They were rescued by Fawkes.”

“Oh!”

Dumbledore immediately understood—Apparated by a phoenix. No wonder.

He remembered the first time he traveled that way himself; he hadn’t been able to eat for the rest of the day.

A terrible memory.

But when it happened to someone else, it was different. Looking at Sirius and Mrs. Weasley… Dumbledore struggled to keep the smile off his face.

No, he couldn’t laugh. That would be rude.

Kyle, on the other hand, had no such reservations. His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.

Even though he’d seen it once already, standing here as a bystander felt completely different… Maybe it helped knowing ahead of time that everyone was safe.

He pulled out a camera and, under Dumbledore’s incredulous gaze, snapped a photo with a click.

“Just for the record,” Kyle said with a smile. “Scenes like this don’t come around often, do they?”

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, his eyes automatically drifting to the camera.

Something about it felt… dangerous. His instincts were screaming that he should destroy it on the spot—reduce the whole thing and every last bit of film to ashes with a spell.

And that instinct was strong.

Dumbledore didn’t know why, exactly. But it was Kyle’s camera, after all—and Kyle had just saved him and Ariana. It would be far too rude to destroy something of his without understanding it.

He forced the impulse down and looked away.

“Put it away. Don’t let anyone see it,” he said.

Just then, the other Kyle arrived, and the three of them entered 12 Grimmauld Place together.

“We’d better get out of here soon,” Dumbledore said. “If Alastor shows up, his magical eye might spot us.”

“Relax—he’s busy elsewhere. He won’t be coming,” Kyle replied. In his memory, Alastor Moody had never turned up here.

“Besides, I have another reason for being here.”

“What reason?”

“Not the time to say,” Kyle shook his head. “Be patient, Professor. You’ll find out soon.”

Though curious, Dumbledore didn’t press further and simply waited nearby.

Before long, someone came out of the house.

“I’m going to pick up the others. They’re all at The Hog’s Head,” Kyle explained.

“That’s certainly a safe place,” Dumbledore nodded silently.

Though Aberforth had never treated him kindly over the years, Dumbledore still considered him the most trustworthy person—just as Fawkes had instinctively chosen to bring people there.

The two continued waiting.

“Oh, right.” Kyle suddenly remembered something. “Professor, when I was rescuing everyone, I also picked up some drinks and spirits to help them recover from the side effects of traveling with Fawkes.”

“You did well,” Dumbledore said. “Spirits are a fine choice.”

“But Aberforth wouldn’t sell them to me,” Kyle went on. “I had to use your name just to get a few bottles.”

“My name?” Dumbledore looked at Kyle, puzzled.

By all logic, dropping his name should’ve made Aberforth even less willing to sell. Had his brother already forgiven him?

“Well… not exactly…” Kyle hesitated. “To be precise, I just told him to put it on your tab. Also, it was a bit more expensive than the market price. Just a little.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” Dumbledore seemed to understand what had happened, but he didn’t mind.

It was just a few bottles of liquor—well within his means. And considering this whole incident was partly caused by his own stubbornness, it was only right that he cover the cost.

“I’ll settle the bill later. Don’t worry about it,” Dumbledore said calmly.

“That’s good,” Kyle replied, though he was already wondering if he should find a place to lay low for a while.

He’d hiked up the price quite a bit at the time, and who knew how high that black-hearted Aberforth had marked up each bottle. The only thing certain was that Dumbledore was in for a serious gouging.

But that would be a problem for later.

...

After a while, Kyle and the others still hadn’t returned, but Kingsley arrived, clearly having rushed over straight from the Ministry after getting the news.

Then came his father, Chris, and with him was an Unspeakable cloaked entirely in a black hood. Kyle remembered Chris mentioning that the Unspeakable had been sent by Diana to check on his condition.

The moment Dumbledore saw the Unspeakable, his whole body stiffened. His eyes locked onto the figure, and everything else seemed to fade away.

Seeing this, Kyle’s suspicion was finally confirmed.

Yes—this Unspeakable must be Ariana. And the person he’d met outside the Department of Mysteries had been her as well.

No wonder he’d felt like she recognized him. Kyle had assumed it was just because of Diana—but now it made sense. They had met before.

He just hadn’t known who she was at the time.

“Professor, please don’t do anything rash,” Kyle said, patting Dumbledore gently on the shoulder. “There are a lot of people around. Just hold on a bit longer.”

“Don’t worry.” Dumbledore snapped out of it and replied softly, “I’ve waited a hundred years. A little longer won’t hurt.”

Even so, Kyle could hear the longing and urgency in his trembling voice.

Of course. Even though they’d just recently seen each other, once Dumbledore’s memories had returned, so had all the guilt and yearning he’d buried for nearly a century. A brief reunion couldn’t possibly fill that kind of emotional void.

Dumbledore surely wanted nothing more than to see Ariana—pour out everything in his heart, and above all... apologize.

“Just a little longer, Professor...” Kyle said again.

Finally, the others arrived—appearing out of thin air beside 12 Grimmauld Place, all clutching the same Portkey.

Kyle saw Chris walking toward him, talking to him...

Dumbledore grew more agitated. Kyle could feel him beginning to squirm, the grip on his arm tightening with increasing strength.

At that moment, the hooded Unspeakable seemed to sense something and suddenly turned in their direction.

Almost reflexively, Dumbledore shrank back and hid behind the wall.

“Professor, what are you doing...” Kyle was speechless. “You were desperate a moment ago—why are you backing out now?”

“I—I don’t know,” Dumbledore stammered, lips pressed tightly together, his nerves making it hard to speak clearly. “I... I’m just afraid...”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid it’ll be like when I looked into the Mirror of Erised… so close I could almost touch her... and then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone.”

“I see. And here I thought you didn’t want to see me.” A light, amused voice came from nearby.

Dumbledore suddenly realized that it hadn’t been Kyle speaking. He opened his eyes—and saw a face that was unfamiliar, and yet so achingly familiar.

“Long time no see, Albus.”

Tears burst from Dumbledore’s eyes. He laughed and cried at once, looking for all the world like a madman.

“And you too.” Ariana turned her head toward the other side. “…”

“Don’t say it. Seriously, don’t.” The moment she opened her mouth, Kyle flinched and quickly cut her off.

“Just call me Kyle. No titles, no extras.”

He had no idea what sort of magic the Department of Mysteries had used to make Ariana look so much younger than Dumbledore or Aberforth, but by age alone, she was already over a hundred.

If she blurted out a “big brother” like she used to… Kyle cringed just imagining it.

“Titles? Ha—dream on.” Ariana let out a soft laugh. “You two kept me in the dark long enough. Do you have any idea how shocked I was the first time I saw you? I didn’t even learn your name until two years ago.”

“What? The Department of Mysteries never told you the truth?” Kyle asked, confused.

As for his name, he’d gone out of his way to hide it after traveling back in time—just in case it interfered with the future.

In fact, even Corder Potter, who often drank with him, never found out what it was. He’d asked, more than once, but Kyle always dodged the question, changing the subject or tossing out some vague title like “friend” or “wandering scholar.”

“The truth? Do you think they’d actually tell me?” Ariana said. “For an Obscurial, any emotional trigger could cause the Obscurus to erupt.”

“They hid all my childhood memories after I arrived at the Department. And honestly, I have to admit—it was probably for the best. Otherwise, the sheer longing might’ve triggered an outburst.”

“But now you remember everything,” Kyle said, studying her. “So… does that mean you’ve fully mastered the Obscurus?

“Come on, tell me—what does it feel like to use it for magic?”

“Do you still have to say the incantations? Use a wand? Or do you just chuck the Obscurus in your opponent’s face?”

Ariana’s expression darkened with every word. Chuck the Obscurus in your opponent’s face? What even was that supposed to mean?

Somewhere deep inside her, the memory of a gentle, soft-spoken figure was beginning to fade.

Still, she wasn’t all that surprised—or maybe she’d sensed this was coming for a while now.

Think about it: someone who had dragged her into a stranger’s school and splashed his face in a highly revered magical fountain… how good could he really be?

Those memories had always been too beautiful to question. But now, memory and reality were colliding—and the rose-colored filter from her childhood had shattered completely.

This was the real Kyle.

Just like Diana had once said of him: Kyle might’ve done everything the prisoners in Azkaban had done—but you’d never see him in there.

Was that a compliment? In a way, yes. But it also meant he couldn’t possibly be the Kyle she had remembered.

“What do you think?” Ariana replied dryly. “Why don’t you guess how an Obscurial uses magic—or better yet, how about I let you experience it for yourself? I’d be happy to satisfy your curiosity.”

Kyle pulled a face.

He had no interest in guessing—and even less in getting smacked.

Great. She’d grown up. Not only was she harder to read now, but she also seemed a bit more... aggressive. She was way cuter back when she’d answer any question without hesitation.

Wait, no—that sounded weird too.

“Umm…”

“You two…”

“So, uh…”

While Kyle and Ariana were talking, Dumbledore stood off to the side, making dramatic faces and exaggerated gestures, occasionally letting out unnecessary sounds like some kind of peacock desperate for attention.

Kyle’s fingers twitched. He pulled out his camera and, with a click, snapped a photo.

“Alright then, you two go ahead and talk—take as long as you want. Just… maybe find a different spot. Muggles do pass by here now and then.”

He calmly stowed the camera. “That’s it for me. I’m heading over to Diagon Alley for a bit. I’ll be staying at the Leaky Cauldron for a while… might stop by to see Newt, too. If anything important comes up, just have Fawkes find me.”

A brother and sister meeting again after a hundred years—Kyle knew better than to stick around.

Besides, he had a lot on his plate right now.

First problem: money. Most of his savings were gone, and the rest had been handed over to the dragon reserve. Now, he had barely a few hundred Galleons left to his name.

He was nearly as broke as Ron—okay, maybe slightly better off. But still, what could he do with a few hundred Galleons? He couldn’t even afford a broomstick.

Kyle was starting to panic. He needed to find a way to refill his wallet—at the very least, he had to restore Norbert’s nest to its original gold color. That depressing gray was just too ugly.

Then there were the two dragon eggs—those had to be dealt with as soon as possible. Maybe it was the Time-Turner, but the eggs had suddenly started reacting, and Norbert, who was supposed to be looking after them, was completely baffled.

Yes, Norbert was a female dragon. But by dragon standards, she was still just an adolescent, and had no experience with hatching eggs.

He’d given the eggs to her mainly because there was no better option. He couldn’t leave them with Fluffy—his brain was barely bigger than a walnut. He’d probably mistake them for snacks.

As for the Nundu... the Peruvian Vipertooth might’ve been a good fit, but Kyle didn’t have one. And anyway, Nundus and Wampus Cats were both viviparous—they didn’t lay eggs, so they wouldn’t be any help either.

All things considered, Norbert, as a fellow Dragon, was the best candidate. She’d taken the job reluctantly, but after some coaxing from Kyle, she agreed—giving the eggs regular hot baths with dragon fire.