Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 967: Grindelwald

Don’t alert the others?

Kyle narrowed his eyes.

“This is Hogwarts. The professors have every right to know who’s entered the castle without permission—even if you’re a friend of Professor Dumbledore.”

“Oh?” Grindelwald raised his brows slightly, clearly not expecting that response. He looked at Kyle with a flicker of surprise.

After all, back in Nurmengard, Kyle hadn’t been like this.

“So, this castle has given you a bit of courage? Or is it that, after defeating that little fellow called Tom, you think you’re invincible now?”

“I’ve never thought that,” Kyle said with a shrug. “But if we’re being honest, even if you call Tom Riddle a ‘little fellow,’ you might not have been able to beat him.”

“Is that so?” Grindelwald gave a short laugh, though he didn’t deny it. “Maybe you’re right. But I’ve always believed that an obsession with absolute power only creates more openings.”

“So, if it had been me, I’d have dealt with that... Voldemort, much faster than Albus.”

Kyle didn’t argue. Dumbledore had always worked within the bounds of law and morality—Grindelwald didn’t.

Which meant Grindelwald would be more efficient.

“Speaking of which—Professor Dumbledore,” Kyle said. “Isn’t he with you?”

“No. I thought he’d returned to Hogwarts,” Grindelwald replied, his tone suddenly turning irritable.

At that moment, a flash of light pulsed at the tip of Kyle’s lowered wand.

A blinding burst of light erupted. Grindelwald instinctively turned his head and raised his hand to shield his eyes.

As he moved, Kyle’s arm was freed.

“Expelliarmus!”

“Stupefy!”

The two spells flew almost simultaneously—Grindelwald was even a beat faster.

Kyle’s Disarming Charm had barely left his wand before it was blasted apart midair, scattering into red sparks.

“Too obvious,” Grindelwald said, twirling the wand now in his hand.

It wasn’t Snape’s wand—it was a sleek black one. Kyle had seen it in Dumbledore’s possession before.

“You sure you want to fight me here?” Grindelwald asked, eyes drifting toward a few students who had just stepped out of the Great Hall. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not...” Kyle had seen them too. “Oh, my bad—must’ve been a spasm or something. Arm locked up, and I panicked. Wand misfired.”

“Misfired?” Grindelwald arched an eyebrow. “With a Stunning Spell? At me?”

“Probably just a coincidence,” Kyle said with a completely straight face. “With that flash of light, how could I possibly aim so precisely?”

“Hah...” Grindelwald chuckled. “Then if I happen to misfire later, will you forgive me?”

“Of course. That would make us even,” Kyle said without hesitation.

Grindelwald laughed even louder.

Just then, he seemed to notice something. With a flick of his fingers, a tiny green creature let out a shriek as it was flung aside.

“A Bowtruckle?” Grindelwald frowned. “Annoying little magical pests.”

“Probably wandered out of the Forbidden Forest,” Kyle said, catching the creature midair and tucking it back into his robe pocket as he took a step forward.

“This area’s close to the forest. Happens all the time—Bowtruckles, fairies, pixies—little ones getting lost and wandering into the castle. We’re used to it.”

“Is that so?” Grindelwald eyed Kyle. “I thought you were keeping them.”

“I recall that Scamander fellow—he loved collecting these bugs.”

“Yeah, Newt’s fond of Bowtruckles. But me? I prefer something with fangs and claws—Wampus Cats, Nundus, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, and dragons,” Kyle added casually. “I’ve got six. Want to see them?”

“No need. I’ve never cared much for magical creatures,” Grindelwald replied, ending the subject abruptly.

Kyle let out a small breath of relief.

In his robe pocket, the Bowtruckle did the same.

“You wanted a tour of Hogwarts, right? I could show you around—I know the place like the back of my hand.”

“Perfect,” Grindelwald said, turning around and walking off without waiting.

Kyle quickly followed.

After they’d gone, another Bowtruckle bounded over, scooping up a pale yellow bone needle from the floor.

Kyle had been standing on it the whole time. It was so small that Grindelwald hadn’t noticed.

Meanwhile, at the entrance to the Great Hall, Grindelwald showed no intention of entering. He paused briefly, then walked right past.

“You looked nervous earlier,” he said with a smirk, glancing sideways at Kyle. “What, were you afraid I’d kill those students?”

“Of course not,” Kyle replied calmly. “Professor Dumbledore’s friends wouldn’t do something like that.”

The name Dumbledore rang especially clearly.

“You don’t need to drop such a cheap hint,” Grindelwald said with a cold laugh. “You attacked me, and I didn’t retaliate. That should be proof enough of my sincerity.”

“I’m truly just here to look around—provided no one interrupts me.”

“Don’t worry. Here at Hogwarts, we treat our guests with nothing but respect,” Kyle said reassuringly.

The two continued upstairs.

And just as Grindelwald had said, he genuinely seemed to be here as a visitor—curious about everything he saw.

Especially the enormous stone statues.

Most of them had been destroyed during the war with Voldemort.

What stood in their place now were patched-together reconstructions, assembled by professors using whatever spare parts they could scavenge. The seams from the repairs were still plainly visible.

“How do you like it here compared to Durmstrang?” Kyle finally broke the uncomfortable silence, unable to stand the strange tension.

Grindelwald turned his head, eyeing him curiously.

This boy… should he call him bold?

He’d never made a secret of his expulsion, but no one had ever dared bring up magic schools—or Durmstrang—in front of him.

Not even Dumbledore.

Kyle was the first to ask him directly about his school.

Was he offended?

Not at all.

If Grindelwald had cared that much, he would’ve stormed back to Durmstrang long ago… the way Voldemort was obsessed with conquering Hogwarts.

But in truth, he had never once acted against Durmstrang. On the contrary, the school had elevated the very student it once expelled.

“It’s fine, I suppose,” Grindelwald said, glancing at a portrait on the wall. “At Durmstrang, something like this wouldn’t last three days before students started using it to test dark spells.”

Inside the frame, an old wizard in denim scowled and stormed toward the edge.

“Did you just say dark magic? Hold it right there, you rule-breaking little—”

Grindelwald waved his hand, and the portraitʼs tirade was silenced in an instant.

“But if I’m being honest…” he continued casually, walking forward, “I still prefer Durmstrang.”

“Why?” Kyle asked.

“Because it actually felt like a school for training wizards—not some… playground.” Grindelwald sneered as a few students ran past them, clearly unimpressed.

Kyle pressed his lips together. When those lower-year students had passed, he’d broken into a cold sweat, but he couldn’t risk provoking Grindelwald. Reporting to Professor McGonagall wasn’t an option either.

Luckily, he had a backup plan.

Kyle glanced down at his wrist...

If used right, it might let him put some pressure on Grindelwald.

But the risk was high—and Kyle sincerely hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

...

They reached the second floor.

Since the exams were tomorrow, the library was packed.

Grindelwald paused in front of the doors.

“Impressive. So many students here at night,” he said. “At Durmstrang, barely anyone went to the library—but the charm practice halls were always full.”

Kyle stayed silent, guilt creeping in.

No way he could admit it was only this crowded because of tomorrow’s exams...

...

“Kyle? Professor?”

Hermione stepped out of the library, cradling a heavy stack of books.

She didn’t look at Kyle at first. Her gaze landed on Grindelwald—and she froze.

She wasn’t the only one. Several nearby witches stared at him as well, while Madam Pince nearly jabbed a feather duster into the face of a young wizard next to her.

Kyle had to admit—even at over a hundred years old, Grindelwald, freshly shaved and dressed in a clean robe, still had undeniable charm.

“Kyle—no, Professor, who is he?” Hermione was the first to recover and couldn’t help but ask.

“Oh, he’s… let’s just say a friend of mine.”

“Oh.” Hermione nodded in understanding.

She’d heard Kyle had a lot of pen pals. This old wizard clearly wasn’t young—probably some well-known figure in the magical world.

That was her assumption, but she didn’t dwell on it.

Her focus was entirely on tomorrow’s exams. Even if Voldemort came back, it wouldn’t distract her from revising.

Unfortunately, the library was closing soon. She’d have to head back to the common room to study.

“Goodnight, Professor.”

With that, she walked past them.

“Goodnight,” Kyle replied. Then, as if remembering something, he added quickly, “Be sure to have a cup of hot cocoa before revising.”

“Hot cocoa?” Hermione paused and turned to look at him.

“Why?”

“A little trick for boosting memory. It works surprisingly well,” Kyle said.

“Thank you, Professor.” Hermione’s eyes lit up.

She’d never heard of that before, but considering Kyle’s famously high grades, she didn’t hesitate to trust him.

Besides, it was just cocoa—no harm if it didn’t work.

...

“Your friend?” Grindelwald asked curiously after she left.

“Sort of,” Kyle nodded. “Those two earlier—the Dreamless Sleep Potion was for her.”

Grindelwald gave it a brief thought, then lost interest.

“I want to see the Headmaster’s office.”

“No chance.”

“Hm?”

“I mean, you’ll definitely be noticed,” Kyle said. “There are portraits in there too—maybe the students won’t recognize you, but those portraits definitely will.”

“So what? I don’t care if they recognize me.”

“Are you sure?” Kyle looked at him. “Everyone knows Professor Dumbledore was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, for defeating Grindelwald.”

“And now Grindelwald is walking around unharmed. How do you think people will see Dumbledore? Won’t they start thinking he was a… fraud?”

“I assure you—they wouldn’t dare. No one would dare!” Grindelwald growled, magical pressure rippling outward. Cracks formed instantly on the nearest banister.

“You can stop them from speaking, but not from thinking,” Kyle replied calmly. A shimmering silver shield appeared in front of him.

“The more you try to control them, the more they’ll resent Dumbledore… for not killing you when he had the chance.”

“Silence!” Grindelwald shouted, sweeping his hand forward.

The floor rose in a wave, surging toward Kyle before slamming into his shield.

Both floor and shield shattered with a deafening blast.

At the same time, Kyle raised his wand.

“Muffliato!”

The explosion faded into a soft hum, barely registering to anyone nearby.

Kyle stared at Grindelwald. “You know I’m not lying.”

“I said shut up!” Grindelwald narrowed his eyes. “I promised Albus I wouldn’t harm anyone from Hogwarts—but he’s not here now.”

Kyle’s jaw clenched.

“Good.” Grindelwald straightened. “Now take me to the Headmaster’s office.”

“You… fine.” Kyle didn’t argue this time and led him toward the eighth floor.

Honestly, it might be better to go there—at least there wouldn’t be any students.

...

They arrived at the eighth floor.

Professor McGonagall hadn’t changed the password, so they passed through the stone gargoyle easily.

“I can go in alone,” Grindelwald said.

“No chance.” Kyle shook his head. “There are too many valuable things in there. What if you swipe one or two? I’d be held responsible.”

“You think I’d steal?” Grindelwald gave him an incredulous look, nearly laughing.

“Yes,” Kyle said, without hesitation.

If Grindelwald were headed anywhere else, Kyle might have let him go alone—but not the Headmaster’s office.

For one, Dumbledore’s portrait would almost certainly be taken. Not to mention the wool socks and gloves he’d knitted himself, the Mirror of Erised in the corner, the Pensieve in the cabinet, and all of Dumbledore’s memories.

Too many valuable things. Kyle simply didn’t believe Grindelwald wouldn’t be tempted.

They stood there in a silent standoff—until Grindelwald broke first.

“I’ll say it again: I’m not taking anything from inside!”

“Sure. I don’t believe you.”