Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 966: Sudden Visitors

After leaving the Headmaster’s office, Kyle returned to his cabin, unaware of what Professor McGonagall and Bones had discussed.

But they had stayed in the office for quite a long time, and it wasn’t until nearly curfew that Bones and Kingsley left Hogwarts in a hurry, as if something urgent had come up.

Whatever had happened, Professor McGonagall didn’t mention it, and Kyle didn’t ask. Still, one thing was certain: they were likely to have a few quiet days ahead.

Not that it mattered much to the students.

Exam week at Hogwarts was always the time when the academic atmosphere was at its peak. Everywhere you looked, you could see students murmuring incantations under their breath.

During this period, professors strictly forbade students from carrying their wands outside of class, just to avoid random, misfired spells interfering with exams.

Even Kyle was kept busy—students came to him daily with questions about Ancient Runes.

Hermione, in particular, was the most persistent, appearing at the door of his cabin almost every single day.

“The biggest mistake Professor McGonagall ever made was telling Hermione the correct path through the Alchemy Mist,” Kyle complained to Hagrid after once again seeing Hermione off.

She hadn’t been able to enter before, since the Alchemy Mist required not only knowledge of Ancient Runes but also a foundation in Alchemy—and Hermione had virtually none. It was impossible for her to find the right path on her own.

But as luck would have it, she once ran into Professor McGonagall while trying to find Kyle. She told her she had questions to ask, and that was all it took for McGonagall to lead her in.

“Hermione really is clever,” Hagrid said with a chuckle. “She only had to walk the path once to memorize it. I still haven’t got it all down myself.”

“That’s not the point,” Kyle sighed. “Haven’t you noticed? The closer it gets to exams, the more anxious she gets. I’ve told her more than once that those questions she’s asking aren’t even part of the N.E.W.T. syllabus—but she just won’t listen.”

“Oh, you’re actually worried about her...” Hagrid gave Kyle a surprised look. “Sorry, I mean—you really sound like a proper professor now.”

“What, I didn’t before?”

“...Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Forget it. Don’t answer.” Kyle quickly shook his head. “I get paid for this, so of course I have to act the part.”

“Back to Hermione—try talking to her as a friend,” he added. “Help her relax a bit. No point stressing herself to death.”

“Last year during the N.E.W.T.s, someone got so nervous they flubbed the Bird-Conjuring Spell and ended up summoning hundreds of sparrows.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Hagrid blinked. “Still birds, right? And hundreds of them—that should be a top score.”

“Sure, if it had been Charms,” Kyle said, shrugging. “But it was the Transfiguration exam. And because of a magical misfire, all the sparrows ended up with diarrhea… Can you imagine what it’s like when it starts raining in a classroom?”

“That room’s still out of use. No professor’s willing to teach in there.”

Hagrid paused.

He often brought back manure for the pumpkin patch, but the thought of it falling from the ceiling like rain made him rub his arms involuntarily.

That poor examiner...

Still, the proctors working for the Wizarding Examinations Authority were mostly over eighty. They’d supervised more exams than anyone could count. Surely they could handle it… right?

Hagrid wasn’t so sure.

“It’s just a N.E.W.T.,” Kyle went on. “Not like she’s running for Minister of Magic. And even if she were, you don’t need twelve certificates to qualify.”

“I’ll give it a try,” Hagrid said, glancing toward the castle.

Kyle had a point—it probably was a good idea to check in with Hermione.

If she panicked and botched a spell during the exam, things could go badly.

“I think you should get Harry and Ron to talk to her,” Hagrid said, pushing the door open and heading for the castle. “They’re her best friends, after all.”

Kyle just shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

Of course he knew that. He just couldn’t be bothered to go himself.

Besides, Hagrid had been cooped up in the garden for days. Kyle had even been the one feeding Fang. This was just a good excuse to get him moving.

...

When dinner time arrived, the officials from the Wizarding Examinations Authority also made their entrance, with Professor Marchbanks once again at the head of the group.

In the past, it had always been Dumbledore who rose to welcome her—but this time, it was Professor McGonagall.

Perhaps reminded of that fact, Marchbanks looked slightly sorrowful and let out a quiet sigh.

Scanning the crowd, Kyle was surprised to spot the two elderly wizards who had overseen Mikel’s Transfiguration exam the year before. They were still part of the delegation.

Only now, they looked far from composed—more anxious than the students themselves. Their hands were buried in their robe pockets, likely gripping their wands, ready to respond to anything unexpected.

Fortunately, Mikel had already graduated.

Just then, Professor Marchbanks made her way over.

Kyle and the other professors rose to greet her.

“Quite surprising to see you as a professor already,” Marchbanks said as she stopped in front of Kyle. “Very few people are qualified to teach right after graduating—but I’m not surprised. You’ve earned it.”

“Thank you,” Kyle replied.

Marchbanks gave a small shake of her head and studied him again.

Now that she was here, something about Kyle struck her as familiar—like she’d seen him somewhere long ago. But the exact time and place escaped her.

It felt like it had been ages ago—long before Kyle ever enrolled at Hogwarts.

But that was impossible. Back then, Kyle hadn’t even been born. Neither had Chris or Diana.

Marchbanks shook her head again and dismissed the thought. Most likely, she’d once met a student who just happened to look like him.

She’d been overseeing Hogwarts exams for a full century now, visiting once every year. She’d seen more young witches and wizards than she could count.

Mixing up a few faces was only natural.

“You’ve done a great job, Minerva,” Marchbanks said as she took the seat beside McGonagall.

“But I believe only you could’ve restored order to Hogwarts this quickly.”

Professor McGonagall shook her head. “I only did what needed to be done.”

“To be honest, there was a time when I thought I might not make it back to Hogwarts at all this year.”

Marchbanks sliced a small piece of roast pork and popped it into her mouth. “You all were truly incredible—you showed Voldemort that Hogwarts wasn’t just about Albus.”

“And please forgive me for not joining the fight. They shut down the Floo in my home and wouldn’t let me leave my office. Those damned—”

She suddenly abandoned all decorum, launching into a full-blown tirade. She didn’t just curse the Death Eaters—she also included the Hit Wizards who had stopped her from coming to Hogwarts and joining the battle.

Professor McGonagall could only smile in helpless exasperation, shaking her head again and again. She’d known Marchbanks for years, but hadn’t expected her to be so fiery.

Still, to be fair, if she were a Hit Wizard at the Ministry, she probably wouldn’t have let a centenarian witch charge into battle either… Dumbledore being the lone exception.

Eventually, Marchbanks ran out of steam. She glanced toward the seat to McGonagall’s left.

“I also heard about Severus. He really was working for Albus all along?”

“He was. I’ve already asked Albus’s portrait—he told me himself.”

Marchbanks fell silent, looking stunned. After a long pause, she shook her head slowly.

“Unbelievable… This is the first time I’ve misjudged someone. I always thought he was too secretive, too at odds with everyone around him…”

“Yes,” McGonagall nodded. “No one ever knew what he was doing—except Albus.”

“And what now? Do you plan to keep him at Hogwarts?”

“We’ll wait until the second hearing is over,” McGonagall said after thinking for a moment. “If Severus is willing, I’d certainly like him to remain as a professor.”

“A wise decision,” Marchbanks said, nodding. “Back when he taught Potions, student grades were better than they are now…”

She paused mid-sentence and cast a brief, knowing glance toward Slughorn, who was seated not far away.

Slughorn, fortunately, was too focused on savoring his steak to notice their conversation.

Marchbanks looked away, continuing as if nothing had happened. “...What I mean is, he was a very capable teacher.”

“I agree,” McGonagall said, clearly relieved.

She knew exactly what Marchbanks had been about to say—and so did Kyle.

It was simple: during Snape’s tenure as Potions Master, student grades were consistently better.

That wasn’t hard to understand. Snape had his flaws—he played favorites, was cold, and hardly the model of professional conduct—but no one could deny his skill.

The techniques he taught in class were all methods he had personally refined and improved.

It wasn’t that Slughorn was a poor teacher—but look at Harry. Just with one annotated textbook, he’d gone from a Potions disaster to a top student who could even outperform Hermione.

And what Snape had taught in class was an even more complete version of what was in that book. Students might not have appreciated it at the time, but when exam season rolled around, the clarity and efficiency of Snape’s methods became a clear advantage.

Still, that wasn’t something anyone would say in front of Slughorn.

After that, neither Marchbanks nor McGonagall brought it up again. They smoothly shifted the conversation to other topics.

...

Meanwhile, the students below were murmuring to each other in hushed tones.

But unlike the relatively relaxed atmosphere at the staff table, the students were visibly tense.

The exams hadn’t even started yet—but just seeing the officials from the Wizarding Examinations Authority was enough to make them nervous.

“No, I still have a lot of History of Magic to memorize...” Hermione’s hands had gone pale, and she hadn’t touched a single bite of food. She was already rising from her seat, ready to leave.

“You had History of Magic memorized two days ago,” Harry said, blocking her path.

“Then it’s Herbology—”

“A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi is in your bag. You finished your third read-through this morning.”

“Advanced Rune Translation—”

“The Ancient Runes exam only covers up to the intermediate level. Kyle said so—you were right there,” Harry sighed, setting down his half-eaten roast potato.

“Hermione, remember what Hagrid said? You’re way too tense, and that could make you slip up during the exam. You need to relax.”

“He’s right,” Ron chimed in, nodding vigorously. “Look at us—we’re not nervous at all. Come on, sit down and eat something. The professors are already looking over.”

Hermione shot him an annoyed glare.

Sure, Ron and Harry weren’t nervous in the slightest—but that was something she just couldn’t manage.

This wasn’t some ordinary test. It was the N.E.W.T.s—the most important exams of their lives. Hermione didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if she didn’t get a single certificate...

There was no way she could not be nervous.

Though she did sit back down after Harry’s urging, she merely stayed seated, occasionally glancing up at Professor Marchbanks at the staff table.

Soon, as students began finishing their meals and leaving, Hermione stood and quickly followed.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance and hurried after her.

But they parted ways once they reached the Entrance Hall.

Hermione headed to the library on the second floor. Harry and Ron went straight to the hospital wing.

A few minutes later, when they returned, they were holding a small, thumb-sized bottle.

“You sure this’ll work?” Ron asked nervously.

“No idea,” Harry replied, shaking his head.

“What if Hermione drinks it and then can’t wake up in time tomorrow...?”

“She’ll be fine,” Harry said, frowning. “Madam Pomfrey gave it to us—it should be safe.”

The two continued walking as they talked, completely oblivious to what was ahead. At the next corner, they collided with a suit of armor with a loud clang.

Harry stumbled, and the bottle slipped from his hand.

“No—!”

But just before it could hit the floor—less than an inch from the ground—it stopped midair.

“Oh, thank Merlin...” Harry exhaled in relief.

“What are you two doing?”

Kyle happened to be passing by. With a small flick of his finger, he summoned the bottle to his hand and gave it a gentle shake.

The potion inside shimmered with ever-changing colors.

“Dreamless Sleep Potion...” Kyle glanced at the bottle, then at Harry and Ron.

“You two? Insomnia?” His voice carried a note of disbelief.

Being too nervous to sleep before a major exam was perfectly normal—but if it was Harry and Ron? That didn’t sound right.

They might lose sleep over wizard chess, sneaking around at night, or chasing down some new mystery... but definitely not over exams.

“It’s for Hermione,” Ron explained as he straightened up. “Ginny said she’s only been getting two hours of sleep these past few nights.”

“She’s too stressed,” Harry added, nodding. “We just want her to get a good night’s rest.” He pointed to the bottle in Kyle’s hand. “Madam Pomfrey said this works really well.”

“We just weren’t sure if it might affect her performance tomorrow.”

“If it’s just Dreamless Sleep Potion, then there’s nothing to worry about,” Kyle said, handing the bottle back.

“Pour half into her hot cocoa—but don’t move her after. You’ll wake her.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Harry nodded, and he and Ron turned to leave.

Kyle continued out toward the grounds. As one of the professors, he would be helping supervise the exams the next day.

...

“Is that what Hogwarts graduates are like? Doesn’t even recognize a Dreamless Sleep Potion,” a slow, drawling voice called out behind him.

Kyle instinctively turned—and the moment he saw who it was, his hand went straight for his wand.

“Relax. I only came to see what kind of magic this school has that made Albus willing to give everything for it.”

Grindelwald raised one finger to his lips.

“Promise me you won’t alert the others…”

“Alright?”