Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 950: It Can Prove Your Innocence

When Grindelwald chose his followers, what did he value most?

That’s right—power.

In that regard, he was much the same as Voldemort. Whether it was Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr., or Bellatrix, each had been hailed as a prodigy, standing out among wizards of their generation.

But the difference was that, beyond strength, Voldemort emphasized loyalty and pure-blood status, whereas Grindelwald valued intellect.

He never lacked for loyalty, so he preferred wizards who were clever and quick-witted.

What Oren did to Snape happened to align perfectly with his standards.

“You want to see him, but he might not want to see you,” Kyle muttered quietly.

“What did you say?” Grindelwald glanced over.

“Nothing. You misheard,” Kyle replied casually, while recalling what Snape had said earlier.

Morris Oren.

The last time heʼd seen that former professor was in the vaults of Gringotts. Oren had tried to manipulate the goblins into breaking into the Lestrange family vault, but Kyle, who was with him, had stopped him.

Even if he had managed to get inside, he wouldnʼt have found what Voldemort was after. Still, Kyle was more than happy to cause trouble for the Death Eaters whenever possible.

And on top of that, he had managed to squeeze tens of thousands of Galleons out of Gringotts for the incident—definitely a win from his perspective.

Of course, that was just his perspective.

If you asked the goblins, youʼd have to factor in the cost of repairing the vault, the tracks, and the release—intentional or not—of a fully grown dragon.

That bill would be much higher.

Bill had picked up some gossip from his goblin friends. Word was, the British goblins once considered changing the inscription at Gringotts’ entrance.

The one every visitor sees—the long-standing warning carved into the stone.

They wanted to change the third line, “Seek not to take, for nothing is free,” to “Kyle and Death Eaters forbidden entry.”

With Kyle’s name even listed first.

Of course, that was just drunken goblin gossip. Gringotts officially and firmly denied the rumor, stating the inscription had stood for nearly a thousand years and would never be changed under any circumstances.

After the news of Voldemort’s defeat at Hogwarts spread, Gringotts went so far as to publish three statements in the newspaper, assuring Kyle the rumors were false and that Gringotts would treat all wizards equally.

As for the truth of that claim… Kyle found it just as laughable as the idea that Gringotts had existed for nearly a thousand years.

He vaguely recalled that Gringotts wasn’t even older than Nicolas. The only structure in the British wizarding world that had stood unchanged for a thousand years was Hogwarts.

But none of that mattered—it was just a minor side note.

Kyle shook his head and refocused on Snape, unable to resist asking, “Uh… do you know where Oren went?”

“No,” Snape said, shaking his head. “But he should have gone to Hogwarts with the rest of the Death Eaters.”

“This time, the Dark Lord held nothing back—he summoned every last Death Eater to the battle.”

“No, I don’t think I saw him during the battle at Hogwarts,” Kyle said, searching his memory carefully.

From their earlier encounters, it was clear that Oren held a high rank among the Death Eaters—almost on par with Barty Crouch Jr.—and was far stronger than the average professor.

For someone like that to take part in the battle, there was no way Kyle wouldn’t have heard something.

And now that he thought about it, in the days following the battle, people talked endlessly about the well-known Death Eaters—some boasting about narrowly escaping Rodolphus, others claiming to have landed a Stunning Spell on Barty Crouch Jr. from behind.

But Morris Oren, the former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, was never mentioned. Not once.

“You saw him enter Hogwarts?”

“...I don’t think so,” Snape admitted, frowning. “All I can say is that on the way to Hogwarts, he was definitely there.

“As one of Voldemort’s most trusted Death Eaters, if Morris Oren had vanished, someone would’ve noticed.”

“But the Dark Lord said nothing, so he must have still been with the main force at the time.”

“Then he disappeared during the attack on Hogwarts,” Kyle said with a sudden laugh.

“Rodolphus was turned to stone and blown apart by Mr. Weasley. Barty Crouch Jr. was left for good on the grounds by the Black Lake. Goyle was beaten by Mr. Weasley and left hanging from the ceiling. The Malfoys ran for their lives…”

“Even Voldemort’s dead—yet Oren came out of it spotless, probably didn’t even get his robes dirty.”

“That…” Kyle raised an eyebrow at Snape. “You were both undercover, but he definitely got the better deal.”

“Oren was undercover?” Snape looked at Dumbledore with displeasure. “Something that important, and you never told me?”

“If I said I didn’t know either, would you believe me?” Dumbledore sighed.

“What do you think…” Snape said flatly.

He didn’t think there was anything wrong with what Kyle had said. In fact, it echoed his own thoughts.

Encouraging everyone before the battle, then vanishing during it—that alone said plenty.

And before the fighting began, none of the Death Eaters thought they would lose. Snape had felt the same.

In their eyes, Dumbledore was dead, and Voldemort was invincible. They didn’t even need to win—just hold the line long enough for Voldemort to pick off the troublesome opponents one by one.

Victory was inevitable. It was only a matter of time.

And for someone like Oren—one of Voldemort’s most extreme and fervent followers—there was no reason to sit out a battle where the rewards were practically guaranteed.

Unless… he had been tipped off in advance. That, say, Dumbledore wasn’t actually dead.

At that thought, Snape’s expression darkened.

It was one thing for Kyle to know Dumbledore had survived. But for Oren—someone who had only joined midway—to know as well, while he himself had been kept in the dark?

Did Dumbledore really trust him that little?

If so, then why risk his life sending him back to Voldemort’s side... and Oren had done just fine. Better, even.

Faced with Snape’s shifting expression and the flood of silent curses in his eyes, Dumbledore could only look more helpless.

“I swear on my position as Headmaster of Hogwarts—Oren was not someone I placed there.”

“But you’re not Headmaster anymore,” Kyle reminded him quietly.

“Then in the name of the Board of Governors…”

“Everyone knows the Board’s word is like Mikel’s Potions homework.”

“What do you mean by that…”

“It’s all rubbish,” Snape cut in without hesitation.

“Exactly,” Kyle shrugged.

The Board had made more than its share of awful decisions—like expelling Dumbledore or squeezing ghost professors without paying them—but when Umbridge and the Ministry ran wild at Hogwarts, they all played dumb and kept their mouths shut.

Calling them trash wasn’t wrong in the slightest.

Kyle just hadn’t expected Snape to be so cooperative.

Dumbledore’s expression stiffened. “Then in Ariana’s name… Will that do?”

“No problem. That’s convincing.” Kyle nodded without hesitation.

After being interrupted by Kyle twice in a row, Dumbledore took a moment to collect himself before continuing, “In any case, what Oren did had nothing to do with me. I’ve never communicated with him on any of it. The only thing I do know is that he once wanted to kill all werewolves.”

“Werewolves…” Snape frowned. “He had a grudge against them? But he was never bitten by one—I’m certain of that.”

“I’ve never smelled Wolfsbane Potion on him, and I’ve seen him several times during the full moon.”

“My father once saved him from a werewolf,” Kyle suddenly said. “I remember you mentioning that.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore nodded. “The werewolves were toying with him—making him run in fear until dawn.”

“Just before moonset, they planned to bite him, but they ran into Chris, who was out tracking werewolves and giants.”

“Chris saved him—but only him.”

Snape’s eyes flickered.

That experience sounded a lot like what happened to Remus Lupin—targeted by werewolves for revenge.

Only, where Lupin became a werewolf and nothing else changed, Oren took the opposite path entirely.

“No wonder he wanted to kill them.”

“Indeed. It’s possible Oren joined the Death Eaters for that very reason,” Dumbledore said. “He must have known that Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf leader, would inevitably side with the Death Eaters.”

“But he didn’t expect Greyback to be killed.” Dumbledore glanced at Kyle.

Greyback had been among the Death Eaters during the first assault on Hogwarts, but he was later killed by Kyle in one of the castle corridors.

“What he couldn’t have expected was that the rest of the werewolves would soon withdraw from the Death Eaters entirely and vanish. His plan fell apart before he even had the chance to carry it out.”

Kyle thought about it—yeah, that did have something to do with him.

After killing the werewolf leader, he and Newt had gone to the Black Forest to find the rest of the werewolves.

After a calm and reasoned talk—and treating them to some grilled skewers—the werewolves realized the error of their ways and promised never to help Voldemort again.

That was the end of it.

From then on, the number of werewolves in the Death Eaters’ ranks dropped sharply. Only two or three remained, lured in from Knockturn Alley.

During the Battle of Hogwarts, there were still a dozen Dementors even after several rounds of purging, but only one werewolf appeared... He was chased down by Lupin and then taken out.

And even that werewolf didn’t seem all that strong. Without the full moon to boost him, he probably couldn’t even beat Oliver Wood.

After that, Kyle didn’t see any more werewolves… Lupin didn’t count.

“But if it’s really like you said,” Snape suddenly spoke up, “then after discovering there were no more werewolves among the Death Eaters, why didn’t he leave? Why did he choose to stay loyal to the Dark Lord?”

“I don’t know,” Dumbledore replied. “As I said, I never really understood Oren.”

He shook his head. “Maybe he wanted revenge on Tom, who had ordered the werewolves behind the scenes. Or maybe... maybe he genuinely wanted to start a war.

“No one can predict what verse a bard will sing next—just as no one knows where the wind will blow in the next moment.”

“To receive such high praise from you...” Grindelwald narrowed his eyes. “Now I’m even more interested in this Oren.”

“It’s not praise—just a fitting phrase that came to mind,” Dumbledore explained. “I read it in a book. Thought it was appropriate here. Don’t you think so? After all, Morris Oren really was a bard.”

“Forcing metaphors,” Grindelwald said bluntly.

Dumbledore looked a bit deflated. He’d liked that book quite a lot.

Grindelwald snorted. “Now that you’ve asked all your questions, can we finally go back to the conversation we were having earlier?”

“Wait—just a moment more...” He turned to Snape. “There’s some good news. Tom likely won’t be coming back this time.”

“What did you say…” Snape’s expression changed in an instant. “But you clearly told me before that only if Harry willingly gave up his life could we truly kill the Dark Lord!”

“Severus, on that point, I owe you an apology,” said Dumbledore, his expression tinged with embarrassment.

“I truly believed that only Tom’s own Killing Curse could destroy the fragment of his soul that had unknowingly lodged in Harry.”

“You believed…? What do you mean?” Snape frowned.

“I mean… we found a better way.” Dumbledore turned and glanced at Kyle. “After you took Tom away from Hogwarts, Kyle resolved the issue of the Horcrux in Harry—and it took less than five minutes.”

“That’s impossible,” Snape said incredulously. “I’ve read countless books. Horcruxes aren’t something that can be dealt with so easily.”

“Do any of those books mention Dementors?”

“No. I read books about Horcruxes, not Dark creatures.”

“But I am talking about Horcruxes,” Dumbledore said quietly. “Kyle used the Dementor’s Kiss to extract the fragment of Voldemort’s soul.”

Extracted it...

What?

Snape blinked, still processing, and instinctively turned to look at Kyle.

Grindelwald did the same.

But unlike Snape, Grindelwald wasn’t all that familiar with Dementors. For various reasons, he’d rarely set foot in Britain before—and other countries didn’t have such creatures at all.

Still, he had heard of them—these strange beings that fed on joy and devoured souls. He had once even tried to capture a few and send them to Nurmengard to keep—but something had come up that delayed the plan.

By the time he thought of it again, Nurmengard had already become his personal stronghold.

Perhaps he should be thankful for that delay. If he’d actually brought them in…

But to be able to harness the traits of magical creatures so skillfully—and to use them in ways that even Dumbledore couldn’t have imagined—honestly, it was exactly what Grindelwald looked for in his followers.

And yet, he found himself liking Kyle even less.

Maybe because, seventy years ago, someone else had used magical creatures to steal from him what he valued most.

And more importantly, both Kyle and that person had won Dumbledore’s trust—his approval.

Two damn magical creature tamers... What was so special about them anyway?

Grindelwald stared at Kyle... Maybe he needed to take a different approach—look deeper, from the inside out.

Kyle, still watching Dumbledore, didn’t notice Grindelwald’s gaze. He just felt a chill pass behind him and instinctively hunched his shoulders.

Weird. Why was there wind inside his suitcase? Could it be blowing down from the snowy mountains behind them?

Yeah… maybe that was it.

Fortunately, the feeling passed quickly.

Mainly because Grindelwald remembered that Kyle still had a photo he was very interested in. Until he had that photo in hand, he’d be a little more tolerant toward Kyle.

As for what he’d do afterward—well, that was a matter for later.

“Are you finished yet? I’m starting to lose patience,” Grindelwald said, finally tearing his gaze from Kyle and urging again.

“Almost. There’s one more thing I have to say,” Dumbledore replied, giving Kyle a glance before turning back to Snape.

“What is it?” Snape asked. “I’ve already told you everything I know.”

“It’s not about that, Severus. This is something else,” Dumbledore said. “You should remember—on the eighth floor, in the Headmaster’s office where the Pensieve is kept, there’s a place for storing memories.”

“Even if you don’t remember, it’s fine. You’ll find it when you get there. It’s a box—three tiers. The top layer holds only a single vial, while the other two are filled with memories.”

“That one vial contains the memory of the moment, seventeen years ago, when you decided to help us fight Tom.”

“Give it to Minerva. It can prove your innocence.””