Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 915: The Death Eaters’ Fear, Professor McGonagall Breaks School Rules

“I’m sorry, Madam Minerva McGonagall—you don’t seem to understand what we’re saying.”

At Hogwarts, a small, hunched wizard with a rat-like face stood arrogantly in front of Professor McGonagall, tilting his head up to look at her.

“Last night, representatives from the Ministry of Magic met with the Hogwarts Board of Governors. We unanimously agreed that you’re no longer fit to serve as Headmistress.”

“Oh?”

Professor McGonagall gave him a calm glance. “If this is truly the Ministry’s decision, why isn’t Amelia Bones here herself?”

“She’s busy. She couldn’t make it,” the short wizard replied.

“Then she can speak to me when she’s free.” McGonagall waved him off with growing impatience. “I’m not particularly attached to the position—but replacing the Head of Hogwarts is a serious matter. That’s not something a mere Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports can decide.”

“What did you say?” The short wizard bristled at the insult but quickly recomposed himself. “The Governors have already agreed. Compared to that, the Minister’s opinion hardly matters, don’t you think?”

He pulled out a parchment filled with names.

“Shall I read it out loud for you?” he asked smugly. “By unanimous vote of the Governors, Minerva McGonagall is hereby removed from the position of Headmistress. Her replacement will be Severus Snape.”

McGonagall’s expression darkened. She hadn’t expected the Board to betray her at such a time.

Still, she showed no concern, casting the short wizard a look of pure disdain, as if he were something filthy.

“It’s true the Governors have the authority to remove the Headmaster.”

“Well then, that settles it.” The short wizard sneered.

“But…” McGonagall continued, “as far as I know, exercising that authority requires unanimous consent—twelve signatures. And from what I can see…”

She glanced at the parchment. “There are only nine. That’s quite a bit short.”

“So unfortunately for you, this document means absolutely nothing.”

“You—damn it…” The short wizard stepped forward, red-faced with embarrassment and rage. “You need to recognize the situation, Minerva McGonagall. Dumbledore isn’t here to shield you anymore. If you don’t cooperate, the whole school will pay the price!”

Creaaak!

The door to the Headmaster’s office swung open, and Kyle walked in.

“I heard someone say ‘pay the price.’ What, is Hogwarts lunch so good now that people are packing it to-go?”

“Who are you?!” the short wizard snarled, turning on Kyle. “Get out, or you’re dead!”

“Oh, I know you.” Kyle studied his face, thinking aloud. “Right—you were in the Hebrides, weren’t you? And somehow still alive?”

“Tsk, that’s on me.” Kyle shook his head in mock regret.

The short wizard finally got a good look at him—and the anger on his face instantly turned to horror.

Of course he remembered Kyle. Every Death Eater who had been to the Hebrides remembered him.

The Dark Lord had shown them Kyle’s face and issued a direct order: kill him on sight.

It was the first time since joining the Death Eaters that he had seen the Dark Lord so desperate to eliminate someone—so much so, he’d nearly destroyed an entire island.

Even now, the image of the island wreathed in Fiendfyre was seared into his mind.

Unfortunately, most of the Death Eaters who witnessed that scene had died. Only a handful had escaped by sheer luck.

He was one of them.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he’d run into Kyle again—let alone under these circumstances.

“You… you…” He pointed at Kyle, trembling, eyes wide with fear, stammering incomprehensibly.

“What, don’t remember me?” Kyle stepped forward with a friendly smile. “That’s fair. I’ve got a forgettable, passerby kind of look. Easy to slip the mind.”

“But we are kind of acquaintances, wouldn’t you say? So how about doing me a favor—be a little more respectful to Professor McGonagall.”

Cold sweat was pouring down the Death Eater’s face. The sight of Kyle holding his wand made him go stiff. He stood rooted to the spot, too terrified to move.

Professor McGonagall looked on in confusion. She didn’t understand it at all—why had this overbearing, arrogant Death Eater suddenly wilted the moment he saw Kyle? It was as if he’d turned into a completely different person.

Kyle kept walking toward him. One step. Two steps…

Each footfall seemed to land directly on the Death Eater’s chest. At last, fear gave way to instinct—he suddenly raised his wand high.

“Mor—”

“Imperio.”

The raised arm dropped. The light at the tip of the wand faded.

The short Death Eater stood frozen, his face slack, unmoving.

“I really don’t have a talent for that kind of dark magic,” Kyle murmured, glancing at his wand. He remembered how unnatural it felt casting the spell and shook his head slightly in frustration.

“Kyle!” Professor McGonagall clutched her chest and whispered. “What did you just do…”

“As you saw, Professor—Imperius Curse,” Kyle replied. “He recognized me. If I hadn’t acted first, the Dark Mark might’ve been floating over Hogwarts by now.”

McGonagall thought back to the spell the Death Eater had been casting… Yes, there was no doubt. That had been the incantation for the Dark Mark.

“What on earth is going on!” she demanded, forcing herself to stay calm. “Why would the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports come to Hogwarts and team up with nine Governors to try and remove me from office?”

“I’ve no idea,” Kyle replied with a shrug.

He’d been in the middle of teaching when Headmaster Armando Dippet suddenly appeared in the portrait frame of the Ancient Runes classroom, telling him someone was causing trouble in the headmaster’s office.

So Kyle came—just in time to hear the short wizard at the door muttering about making the whole school suffer.

He hadn’t expected the man to be someone familiar.

Back when Kyle had infiltrated the Hebrides disguised as a Death Eater, that man had stood not far from him. Kyle still remembered his face.

“Oh no... the Ministry of Magic.” Professor McGonagall froze for a moment, then visibly tensed.

Had the Ministry already fallen?

She stumbled back a few steps and collapsed into a chair, clutching the collar of her robe tightly.

Kyle’s expression turned grim as well.

“It’s all right, Professor. Maybe he was just trying to scare us. I don’t know exactly what happened, but we can find out now.”

He raised his wand again and pointed it at the Death Eater.

“Legilimens!”

Thankfully, this one wasn’t skilled in Occlumency, saving Kyle the trouble of using Veritaserum.

The memories surged toward him like a tide. Kyle skimmed through them quickly, then finally let out a long breath.

“Well?” Professor McGonagall asked anxiously.

To be honest, she didn’t dare look.

She couldn’t imagine what would happen to the British wizarding world if the Ministry really had been taken over by Death Eaters.

“It’s all right, Professor,” Kyle said softly. “The Death Eaters have only taken over half the Ministry. Minister Amelia Bones is still alive, and the Aurors and Hit Wizards are on our side.”

“Thank goodness...” Professor McGonagall exhaled sharply and took several deep breaths.

“Well then… what exactly happened?”

“It’s too much to explain,” Kyle said. “Better if you see for yourself.”

He pressed his wand to the Death Eater’s forehead and gently drew out a glowing silver strand of memory.

McGonagall’s eye twitched.

Between this, the Imperius Curse earlier, and the Legilimency just now, Kyle had already violated Wizarding Law three times—right in front of her.

Not school rules. Wizarding Law.

Especially the Imperius Curse. That one could get you a private cell in Azkaban.

“Ah. Sorry.” Kyle seemed to realize how inappropriate that was. He paused, then awkwardly shoved the memory strand back into the Death Eater’s head.

With a flick of his wand, a velvet curtain dropped from the ceiling, hanging between him and McGonagall.

Another vein pulsed on McGonagall’s forehead.

What was this—trying to cover it up?

“Hahaha!”

Laughter burst from the wall. Armando Dippet clutched his stomach, doubled over in delight.

“I knew calling Kyle was the right call. This is too entertaining.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore agreed, nodding. “He always has the most unexpected ideas—but they work.”

“Bah! The boy’s out of control,” Phineas Black muttered from his frame. “Using the Imperius Curse in the headmaster’s office! Outrageous! Someone like him isn’t fit to teach.”

“Oh?” Armando Dippet’s face darkened instantly. “I’m the one who called Kyle here. Are you questioning my decision?”

Before Phineas could reply, Dippet swung a massive spiked club—who knew where he’d pulled it from—and struck across the frame in one clean sweep.

THUD!

“OW!”

A muffled crash followed by a howl of pain.

None of the other portraits moved to stop it. They simply shut their eyes, pretending not to see—just like they’d pretended not to see Kyle casting the Imperius Curse.

Professor McGonagall felt her head buzzing and had to resist the urge to rip a few portraits off the wall and hurl them out the window.

She used to think the portraits in the headmaster’s office were rather dignified. Apart from the occasional pretend nap, they never did anything odd.

Now, suddenly, they were completely out of control.

Had they always been like this?

Or had something changed—maybe after a certain new portrait was added…

McGonagall’s gaze drifted, not so subtly, toward Dumbledore’s frame.

Fortunately, just then, the velvet curtain vanished. Kyle glanced around, then casually opened a cabinet and pulled out a Pensieve, slipping the strand of memory from his wand into it.

The memory swirled inside like a silver fish, flickering rapidly within the basin.

Professor McGonagall knew how to use a Pensieve, of course. She leaned down and plunged her head inside.

The swirling current pulled her away from the headmaster’s office and into the Ministry of Magic. She saw Scrimgeour, seething with rage, and Amelia Bones, locked in a standoff with the Death Eaters.

Thankfully, just as Kyle had said.

Though the Ministry had been shaken, it hadn’t fallen—and Minister Bones was still alive.

Moments later, Professor McGonagall emerged from the memory basin.

“The situation is still rather serious,” she said, glancing at the motionless Death Eater beside Kyle. “What do you plan to do with him?”

“Of course...” Kyle paused mid-sentence, then continued, “...send him to Azkaban.”

“But Azkaban hasn’t been reliable for some time now, and you know that.”

“It’s fine,” Kyle said with a wave of his hand. “I know another place—pretty much the same as Azkaban. It’s guarded by Dementors too. Sending him there will have the same effect.”

“Oh?” Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. “And where exactly is that?”

She’d lived in Britain her whole life and had never heard of any ‘alternate Azkaban.’

“Uh, best not to ask. The setup’s basically the same,” Kyle replied with a sheepish grin.

He was, of course, referring to the Dementor in his suitcase. Ever since it had started following him, it hadn’t had a proper meal. Kyle occasionally felt guilty about that.

This was a rare opportunity—he figured it was time to give it a special treat and let it feed properly for once.

Might stop Newt from constantly accusing him of Dementor abuse.

Besides, this Death Eater might turn out to be useful in other ways too—potentially very useful.

“Why don’t you leave him with me?” Professor McGonagall said after a moment of thought.

“Huh?”

“You used the Imperius Curse to control him, didn’t you?” she said bluntly, calling him out without hesitation. “Because you don’t want that man—whose name we’re not supposed to say—to know you’re at Hogwarts?”

“No, that’s not it. He definitely knows I’m here.” Kyle shook his head. “You might not like hearing it, but some Slytherins saw me. So Voldemort probably already knows.”

At the sound of that name, Professor McGonagall reflexively clutched at her collar.

Kyle, however, remained calm. He’d just discovered something very interesting in that Death Eater’s memories.

Voldemort hadn’t shown himself at all—not during the attack on the Ministry, nor in any other recent activity.

Kyle suspected he was injured.

Back in the Hebrides, Voldemort hadn’t completely dodged the Firestorm Spell Kyle had launched.

It was the strongest offensive spell he knew—rune-enhanced Fiendfyre. Even Voldemort couldn’t walk away from that unscathed.

And then there was Godric’s Hollow—where he might have been struck by lightning summoned by Dumbledore’s magic.

Old wounds and new ones stacked together... With Voldemort’s pathological fear of death, it made sense that he’d be lying low.

That had been Dumbledore’s strategy: use pressure to force Voldemort into the open, catch him off-guard.

But from the looks of it, Voldemort had more patience than they expected. Even with Dumbledore “dead,” he hadn’t come out to claim his victory.

Lately, Kyle had been thinking of other ways.

And this Death Eater might just provide one.

If they could wipe out the Ministry’s embedded Death Eaters in one strike, Voldemort wouldn’t be able to stay in the shadows much longer.

Of course, the risk was high—Amelia Bones and the others could be caught in the crossfire...

“In that case, why did you stop him from casting the Dark Mark?” Professor McGonagall asked suddenly, breaking Kyle’s train of thought.

“It was a split-second decision. I didn’t know what spell he was about to cast,” Kyle said with a shrug. “I thought it was the Killing Curse. Didn’t expect he was just calling for backup. Honestly, if he’s that timid, what business does he have being a Death Eater? Embarrassing.”

Professor McGonagall’s gaze flickered. She pretended not to hear the comment.

“Then why control him?”

“I wasn’t sure at the time,” Kyle replied. “I overheard a bit of your conversation at the door. Found out he’s the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. At that point, I didn’t know what was going on with the Ministry, but I figured—if I could control him, he might come in handy.”

“At the very least, he could be a plant. Someone we could use against the Death Eaters inside the Ministry.”

Professor McGonagall frowned, carefully considering Kyle’s words. She looked again at the short Death Eater, and after a long pause, slowly shook her head.

“I can’t.”

“What?”

“Your Imperius Curse is a bit... lacking,” Professor McGonagall said, choosing her words carefully to soften the criticism.

“To be honest, the only reason it worked at all is because he’s afraid of you. I’d say it won’t be long before he breaks free from your control.”

As she spoke, the Death Eater’s body twitched slightly. His fingers were trembling, curling and flexing.

All clear signs he was on the verge of throwing off the Imperius Curse.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Kyle said with a sigh.

There was no helping it—his magic was too clean. Dark magic like the Imperius Curse relied on negative emotion to fuel it, and with his particular magic signature, it was bound to be less effective.

A trade-off, really. Gains and losses.

“Leave him to me,” Professor McGonagall said. She gave her wand a flick, and a silver net dropped down over the Death Eater, hoisting him into the air.

“If Hogwarts and the Death Eaters truly are headed for war, I want us to have the initiative.”

“And evacuating the students will take time. Until everything is ready, I need their attention diverted—away from Hogwarts.”

“No problem at all.” With McGonagall making the request, Kyle had no reason to refuse.

“But Professor,” he added, “he might not be that easy to work with. Want me to help find a suitable replacement?”

“I’d suggest Cedric. He’s had experience impersonating a Death Eater before, and he’s meticulous. Give him enough time with a Pensieve, let him study the man’s behavior a few times, and he won’t blow his cover.”

“Experience impersonating a Death Eater?” Professor McGonagall gave Kyle a sharp look. “I seem to recall seeing Mr. Diggory in the castle before. Don’t tell me...”

Only then did Kyle realize he’d let something slip—but he kept his expression calm.

“Ah, that time he was just here to see me. I meant an earlier situation—when we were hunting Dementors together.”

“Oh,” McGonagall said with a nod, letting it slide.

“There’s no need to trouble Mr. Diggory with this,” she continued.

By then, the Death Eater caught in the net had already begun to thrash, the effects of the Imperius Curse wearing off. But with his wand already flung aside by Kyle, the struggle was largely pointless.

Loud, yes—but pointless.

“While I strongly dislike the Imperius Curse and what it does, that doesn’t mean I can’t use it.” McGonagall’s expression wavered with hesitation, but after a moment’s resolve, she slowly raised her wand.

“Imperio.”

The headmaster’s office fell utterly silent.

“Oh!” came a startled cry from the portrait of Dumbledore, his tone full of astonishment. “Armando, did you see that? Minerva just used an Unforgivable Curse in the headmaster’s office.”

“I saw it, Albus.”

Armando Dippet rubbed his eyes. “By Merlin above... I must be dreaming!”