Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 874: Everyone’s Reaction, Encounter in Diagon Alley

As a former Auror—and a legendary one at that—Alastor Moody was never the indecisive type. Once he made up his mind, he stepped forward without hesitation, plucked a hair from Lennis’s head, dropped it into the Polyjuice Potion, and downed it in one gulp after the potion changed color.

The effect was immediate. His face began to contort, and with a soft pop, his magical eye was pushed out like a marble, replaced by a real one.

Within seconds, he had completely transformed into Bubblay Lennis.

“How does it feel?” Kyle asked curiously.

“A bit unsettling,” Moody replied, frowning.

Without the magical eye’s full-range, penetrating vision, he felt strange—off-balance, even insecure.

Still, he knew he’d get used to it eventually.

“No, I meant the taste,” Kyle clarified. “Polyjuice Potion tastes different for everyone. I’ve always been curious.”

“Not great,” Moody admitted, though he didn’t quite follow Kyle’s line of thinking. “Salty and fishy—like salmon that’s been sitting out for far too long.”

“Then you’d better get used to stronger flavors, Professor,” Kyle said with a chuckle. “You’ll be drinking this stuff often enough.”

“I’ve never been picky about taste,” Moody replied. “But how am I supposed to pass information to you? Still here?”

“No, you don’t need to do anything,” Kyle said, shaking his head.

Moody wasn’t just up against those wandering wizards—Voldemort might be in the picture, too. The more he tried to do, the greater the risk of a mistake.

“Until the day you completely turn, just act like youʼre really Bubblay Lennis. As for when to act, and how to convince the wandering wizards to switch sides... Professor, you’ve got more experience than I do.”

“Of course.” Moody paused a moment, then nodded.

He had to admit, if he passed on messages himself, the Order of the Phoenix might gain a short-term edge—but the risk of exposure made it not worth it.

“Good,” said Kyle. “I’ll deliver the finished Polyjuice Potion here on schedule. Or I can bring the ingredients, whichever you prefer, Professor.”

“No, I don’t need anything,” Moody replied. “That would just increase the chance of exposure. Plenty of those wandering wizards are smugglers of banned herbs. I’ll figure out a way to brew the Polyjuice Potion myself.”

“You sure?” Kyle hesitated. “Maybe I should leave some here, just in case. If thereʼs an emergency, you could come get it.”

“Hah...” Moody gave him a sidelong glance, feeling underestimated. “I was already an Auror before your father was even born. Instead of worrying about me, youʼd better focus on your own safety.”

As he spoke, he quickly fastened Bubblay Lennis’s robes and pulled out a waterskin-like pouch, stuffing Lennis inside.

Since he needed to regularly replenish key ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion, Lennis was still very useful—and had to be kept alive.

If he died, his hair would be useless.

“Alright, you’re the boss,” Kyle said with a shrug.

He had been about to remind Moody to use Legilimency to familiarize himself with Lennis, but now it seemed unnecessary. As a seasoned Auror, Moody knew exactly what needed to be done.

Just then, the Wampus Cat that had left earlier returned and nudged up beside Kyle, letting out a soft whimper.

“The audience is almost here,” Kyle said with a slight smile. “Ready for your entrance, Professor?”

“I’ve been looking forward to it,” Moody said, taking a deep breath.

Kyle waved his wand, and one of the wizards lying on the ground instantly transformed into an identical likeness of Moody.

“My Transfiguration Spell isn’t the best,” Kyle said. “It might fool them for a bit, but don’t drag it out too long.”

“I told you, I don’t need you to teach me what to do,” Moody snapped, quickly stuffing his magical eye into the socket of his other self.

“Want me to prepare your funeral?” Kyle asked, watching his smooth, practiced movements.

“The bigger, the better,” Moody muttered with a twitch of his mouth. “I have to say, this feels really strange.”

“There’s no helping it,” Kyle replied. “If you suddenly vanished, the Death Eaters would definitely get suspicious. Once the show starts, we have to eliminate any risk of exposure.”

“Oh, and don’t forget to reimburse me. Throwing a grand funeral doesn’t come cheap—it’s going to cost a lot of Galleons.”

When Moody looked up again, Kyle had already vanished.

At the same time, drawn by the noise, Barty Crouch Jr. and the other Death Eaters appeared nearby, trailing black smoke.

“Lennis, you—”

“Confringo!”

...

Kyle stood on a tree at the edge of the forest, watching as a bright flash of fire erupted in the distance. He sighed softly and turned to leave without looking back.

Though it had been a last-minute plan, he trusted Moody to pull it off.

If even Barty Crouch Jr. could stay perfectly hidden right under Dumbledore’s nose, then there was no reason Moody couldn’t fool Voldemort.

Still... what a shame about those 30,000 Galleons.

Kyle punched his thigh in frustration.

Everything had happened so quickly that, worried for Moody’s safety, he hadn’t had time to gather the Galleons scattered across the ground—he had just chased after him.

That was thirty thousand Galleons! When the case exploded, it was like a Galleon downpour—the whole road turned gold. Kyle had even prepared a sack, but in the end, he didn’t collect a single coin because he’d been focused on saving Moody.

Well... not entirely empty-handed.

Kyle reached into his pocket and pulled out a single gold Galleon. This one had flown straight into his pocket on its own—no need to pick it up.

Not bad. At least the trip wasn’t a total loss.

Kyle gave the forest one last glance, then Disapparated.

...

“What did you say, Alastor... is dead?”

Ministry of Magic, Muggle Artifact Control Office.

Mr. Weasley’s legs gave out beneath him, and with a crash, he knocked over a stack of papers on the table and collapsed to the floor. Beside him, Lupin, who happened to be there, had gone pale, clutching tightly at his chest. Tonks covered her face with a handkerchief, crying silently.

Bang!

The office door was suddenly thrown open from the outside, and Kingsley and Sirius stumbled in, nearly falling over—but they didn’t care in the slightest. Their eyes were locked on Kyle.

“What did you just say... Mad-Eye is dead?”

They had come looking for Mr. Weasley and had just reached the doorway when they overheard the shocking news.

“I arrived late,” Kyle said grimly. “By the time I reached the forest, the fighting was already over. I found this in a deep crater left by a Blasting Curse…”

With tightly pressed lips, Kyle pulled out a broken black strap.

“This is...” Kingsley’s pupils contracted sharply.

“The strap Mad-Eye used to secure his magical eye,” Lupin finished for him.

They all recognized it instantly—it was unmistakably Alastor’s.

“Impossible!” Kingsley took two steps back. “Mad-Eye was the most powerful Auror. How could he be killed by a bunch of wandering wizards? I don’t believe it!”

As a fellow Auror, he knew better than most how formidable Alastor Moody truly was.

“I don’t want to believe it either, but…”

Kyle’s lips remained pressed together. He didn’t continue.

“It’s alright. He must’ve gotten away,” Lupin said, forcing a twisted smile. “We all know Mad-Eye had countless tricks to protect himself. He... he must be faking it, trying to deceive the Death Eaters.”

“Yeah.” Mr. Weasley chimed in at just the right moment. “You didn’t see him die with your own eyes, did you?”

Kyle turned his head, deliberately avoiding Mr. Weasley’s gaze. But that evasive gesture only made the heavy atmosphere in the office sink further.

“I don’t believe it!” Kingsley turned abruptly. “I’m going to Cornwall!”

“Don’t be reckless, Kingsley,” Lupin said quickly, grabbing his arm. “It’s too dangerous to go alone.”

“But I can’t just sit here and wait.”

“Then we’ll all go together,” Sirius said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Kingsley’s shoulder.

He looked at Kingsley, speaking firmly, “We’ll go together. Right now.”

“Sirius, not you too…” Lupin was nearly frantic.

Who knew if Voldemort’s people—or Voldemort himself—might be in Cornwall? If the Order of the Phoenix rushed in now, wouldn’t they be walking straight into a trap?

But no one heeded his warning. The group walked straight out of the office.

Left with no choice, Lupin chased after them, trying to stop them. “Wait, Sirius, we have to investigate first. Charging in blindly will just play into their hands…”

As the group moved farther away, Kyle stayed behind and helped Mr. Weasley, who was still sitting on the floor, to his feet.

“How could this be…? Alastor was a legendary Auror. Not even You-Know-Who managed to kill him…” he muttered, as though the strength had been drained from his entire body.

Kyle tried to help him back to the Burrow, but Mr. Weasley shook his head.

“Don’t tell them yet. Not until we know the truth.”

Kyle nodded silently and brought him to 12 Grimmauld Place.

Since Mrs. Weasley had returned to the Burrow, the house had been empty for a while.

But today, everyone was back. Lupin had eventually managed to stop the impulsive Sirius and Kingsley, dragging them back from the Ministry entrance by force.

It was still the same group from the Ministry. Perhaps unwilling to accept the reality, Mr. Weasley had given a reason: if Alastor was still alive, spreading false news would only damage morale.

No one objected.

“We need to confirm whether Mad-Eye really has met with misfortune,” Lupin said, turning to Kyle. “Of course, it’s not that I don’t believe you—it’s just that all of this happened so suddenly…”

“I understand,” Kyle nodded. “But that wandering wizard, Bubblay Lennis, has already aligned himself with the Death Eaters. Going there now could be dangerous.”

“If too many people go, it might trigger a larger conflict—or even draw the attention of You-Know-Who.”

“It’s alright. Leave this to me,” Tonks stepped forward. “I’ll go and scout it out. I won’t be spotted.”

“I’ll go with you,” Lupin said immediately.

“Are you a Metamorphmagus?” Tonks shot him a glare. “Or can you at least guarantee you won’t be noticed while sneaking in?”

“No, I can’t.”

“Then don’t get in the way,” Tonks said flatly, pushing him aside. “Everyone knows I’m the best person for intelligence gathering.”

“Then let me be your backup,” Lupin said. “Don’t look at me like that—it’s necessary. If you send a signal, I can reach you immediately.”

“I’m coming too,” said Sirius.

This seemed to be the best plan they had for now, and no one objected.

That afternoon, the three of them set off for Cornwall.

Mr. Weasley watched them leave. After calming down, a lingering sense of doubt crept in.

He vaguely remembered—hadn’t Kyle said he was only there to deliver a message? So why did he go to Cornwall? And how, so coincidentally, did he witness Alastor being killed?

Where’s Dumbledore? Isn’t he here?

Mr. Weasley found it odd, but didn’t dwell on it. All he wanted now was to wait for Tonks and the others to return—and hopefully, to tell them that Kyle had made a mistake, that Alastor hadn’t actually been killed.

Since everyone had other matters to attend to, the people at Number 12 Grimmauld Place didn’t stay long before heading off.

Kyle stood in the now-empty entrance hall, thought for a moment, and decided to make another trip to Cornwall.

Originally, he had wanted to confirm Moody’s “death” as quickly as possible. The sooner that news got out, the safer it would be on his end.

He just hadn’t expected Mr. Weasley and the others to doubt him and insist on verifying it themselves.

Still, he couldn’t really blame them. With Alastor Moody’s level of skill, unless he’d run into Voldemort directly, it wasn’t easy to kill him—and especially not without leaving a single trace.

Fine. A few daysʼ delay wouldn’t make much difference. And if Sirius and the others stirred up a little noise, it would only help make the story more convincing. Kyle was confident Moody could handle it.

Still, just in case, it was better if he went too. If things went sideways, he could step in to patch it up.

But before that, there was something he needed to buy.

This incident had once again proven just how useful Polyjuice Potion could be. He needed to restock, and fast.

Although the Ministry had banned the sale of Polyjuice Potion some time ago, a ban didn’t mean it was impossible to get.

After Kyle offered double the usual price, the potion shop owner—who’d previously sworn to uphold Ministry regulations—promptly brought out three bottles, roughly a pint in total.

Naturally, Kyle hadn’t forgotten to change his appearance first. No sense giving the shopkeeper the chance to run off and report him to the Ministry.

Better safe than sorry, after all.

As he stepped out of the shop, Kyle glanced back at the hanging sign overhead.

A Cauldron Full of Potions.

Just wait. Once things returned to normal, he’d pay Fred and George a visit—they seemed to have the authority to shut down illegal businesses.

Maybe he could even get those extra Galleons back… hopefully.

Kyle shook his head and let the thought go, ready to head straight for the forest to meet up with Sirius and the others.

But as he passed by Gringotts, two people caught his eye.

One of them wore a hood, but the few strands of platinum-blond hair that slipped free were enough to give him away.

Lucius Malfoy?

Kyle frowned. Wasn’t he supposed to be with Barty Crouch Jr. in Cornwall?

If he remembered right, Malfoy had been the one who tossed the suitcase earlier.

So how was he here in Diagon Alley? Was the situation in Cornwall already resolved?

The more Kyle thought about it, the more suspicious he felt. On instinct, he followed.

“Only members of the Malfoy family can access the family vault. It’s no use following me—just wait here,” Malfoy said, turning toward the other Death Eater at the Gringotts entrance.

“Be quick about it,” the man replied in a cold, sinister tone. “This is your chance to redeem yourself. Don’t disappoint the Dark Lord.”

“I don’t need you to remind me,” Lucius said icily, walking into Gringotts without looking back.

The Dark Lord?

Redeem himself?

Kyle lowered his head, posing as a passerby heading in to make a withdrawal, and followed them into Gringotts.

Lucius’s purpose here... no doubt it was to take out money—and not a small sum.

They’d just burned through thirty thousand Galleons in Cornwall. Even for the Malfoy family, that wasn’t exactly pocket change.

And now, already back for more?

Was Voldemort trying to bleed the Malfoys dry?

Then again, this was probably the only thing Malfoy was still useful for—acting as a mobile vault. Otherwise, just losing the diary alone would’ve been enough for Voldemort to kill him ten times over.

Serves him right, really.

Kyle stepped into Gringotts but drew little attention—after all, Lucius Malfoy, a much bigger customer, had just gone in before him.

He patted around his robes, putting on an act like he’d forgotten his vault key, then casually turned and walked back out.

But the moment he stepped through the doorway, using the large doors to shield him from view, his body began to shift rapidly. His robe darkened into a hooded cloak, his hair grew longer, and turned from black to a pale platinum blond.