Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 8: Mr. Weasley’s Dream

Kyle may not have been fooled by the adultsʼ usual tall tales, but they had definitely done the trick for Ron and Ginny. Ron, in particular, had been listening intently, eager to gather some inside knowledge for when he started Hogwarts the following year. But as the conversation progressed, his face turned a sickly shade of pale.

Trolls, ghosts, and Hippogriffs were extreme, sure, but Ron figured he could manage to escape if things got really bad. The Hogwarts professors wouldn’t let students face anything truly deadly... right? But a dragon? That was another matter entirely. Dragons were classified as XXXXX-level magical creatures, dangerous even to fully trained adult wizards. For an eleven-year-old, facing a dragon sounded like certain death. By the time the professors had cast their protection spells, Ron feared heʼd already be a pile of ash from a single sneeze of dragon fire.

”Is this seriously what school is like?” Ron thought, his heart sinking. He felt an overwhelming urge to run away from home and never look back. Hogwarts sounded less like a place of learning and more like a death trap.

Ginny wasn’t faring much better. Her usually vibrant red hair seemed to have lost its shine, and her face was pale as she stared down at her plate, visibly shaken.

Kyle, noticing her distress, leaned over with concern. ”Whatʼs wrong, Ginny?” he asked softly. ”Why arenʼt you eating? Are you feeling unwell?”

Ginny shook her head quickly, not wanting to admit her fear in front of her brothers. ”No, Iʼm fine,” she said, forcing a smile. ”I’m just... full.”

Given that she was only nine and had already eaten half a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, it wasn’t entirely a lie—her appetite wasn’t large to begin with. The sudden talk about dragons and sorting, however, had sapped the rest of her hunger.

”I see, that’s a shame,” Kyle replied, accepting her explanation without much thought. He calmly reached over and took the grilled fish from Ginnyʼs plate, placing it onto his own. Grilled fish was one of Mrs. Weasley’s specialties, and it was best eaten fresh. He’d been craving it for a while, so he wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

Ginny didn’t stop him, though she watched with a sad expression as Kyle devoured the fish she had been saving. The thought of having to face a dragon in two years had killed any remaining desire for food. In the end, she simply turned her head away, hoping to forget about it.

Fred and George, seated next to her, sighed dramatically in unison. They had also been eyeing the grilled fish, but Kyle had beaten them to it.

Undeterred, the twins shifted their focus to Ron. Unfortunately for them, Ron’s plate had already been picked clean. His fish was long gone, the bones gnawed so thoroughly that even a Flobberworm would have trouble finding anything left to slide across.

Seeing their chance for mischief, Fred leaned in with a grin. ”What’s wrong, Ron? Scared of the dragon?” he teased, patting Ron on the shoulder in a rare display of brotherly concern. ”Don’t worry, the dragon’s only there for one year. By the time you get to Hogwarts, they’ll probably replace it with another creature.”

”Yeah,” George chimed in with perfect timing. ”I think it’ll be spiders next year. I saw some in the Forbidden Forest—about the size of gnomes. Maybe Hagrid’s getting them ready for the Sorting Ceremony.”

At the mention of spiders, Ron’s face went from pale to ghostly white. His eyes widened in sheer terror. ”No!” he screamed, throwing his cutlery down and bolting from the table, sprinting back toward The Burrow without a second thought.

Fred and George burst out laughing, watching with wicked delight as Ron dashed away in pure panic. They’d succeeded in scaring him senseless, and the way he had reacted was everything they had hoped for.

But despite their victory, the twins didn’t entirely escape consequences for their mischief. As they laughed, Mrs. Weasley’s sharp voice rang out from across the table.

“George, why were you in the Forbidden Forest?” Mrs. Weasley’s sharp question cut through the twins’ laughter like a blade. She fixed them with a stern gaze, her keen eyes narrowing. “I don’t recall Hogwarts allowing first years into the Forbidden Forest.”

Fred and George froze in their tracks, realizing they’d said too much. “Mum, I can explain...” Fred started, but it was too late.

The twins attempted to make a break for it, but having only just begun their second year, they were no match for Mrs. Weasley. She quickly caught them, and what followed was the familiar scene of motherly scolding and the twins’ attempts at half-hearted apologies.

Though Kyle had witnessed this ritual countless times over the years, it never ceased to entertain him. He watched with interest, and his appetite even improved as he enjoyed the show.

Kyle didn’t doubt that the twins had ventured into the Forbidden Forest—they were known for their reckless behavior. However, he was pretty sure the part about the spiders was just a ploy to scare Ron. Though it’s ironic, Kyle thought, that they accidentally stumbled onto the truth. The Acromantulas in the forest were far from harmless, and if Fred and George had really encountered one, theyʼd likely have set up a permanent residence there by now.

Kyle recalled that the Acromantula colony was deep within the forest. Fred and George, adventurous as they were, wouldn’t have ventured that far in. They might have been troublemakers, but they weren’t suicidal. They didn’t have Harry Potter’s luck—or his knack for getting into life-threatening situations.

After another twenty minutes or so, dinner began to wind down. Despite a few interruptions, the evening had been lively and enjoyable for everyone. Kyle, especially, had a great time.

Once dinner ended, Percy went upstairs to review his homework, ever the diligent student. Meanwhile, Ron—carrying a small bundle in a bid to run away from home—was caught and was now taking the twins’ place, being chased around the yard by a determined Mrs. Weasley.

As this chaotic scene played out, Mr. Weasley and Chris continued their conversation in a quieter corner of the Burrow.

“Chris, what you did earlier was a bit much,” Mr. Weasley said, shaking his head with a smile. “It’s just the sorting, after all—no one actually faces a dragon! Kyle’s clever; I’m sure he realized we were pulling his leg.”

“No, Arthur, you’ve got it wrong,” Chris replied, shaking his head. “The plan was never going to work. You see, Kyle has spent at least two months every year with Newt Scamander since he was three. Do you really think he’s afraid of trolls or Hippogriffs?”

Mr. Weasley blinked, momentarily thrown off by the information. “Oh... I suppose that makes sense. But wait—are you saying Kyle can, well... communicate with Magical Creatures? Like you?”

Chris nodded with a small smile. “Exactly. So, it’s impossible for him to be afraid of a Hippogriff. He’s used to dealing with creatures far more dangerous than that. Honestly, the only thing that might give him pause is a full-grown dragon.”

Mr. Weasley glanced at Chris, a hint of envy creeping into his expression. “That’s an incredible ability. If only I could communicate with Muggle objects the way you do with magical creatures...”

“Wait—what?” Chris was caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. He stifled a laugh, realizing where Arthur’s thoughts had wandered. “It’s not as impressive as it sounds, Arthur. My ability is limited to magical creatures—mice, toads, owls, that sort of thing. Regular animals don’t respond. You can only figure out what they’re thinking through experience.”

Chris’s point was clear: even if Mr. Weasley magically changed his surname to Chopper, he wouldn’t suddenly be able to have meaningful conversations with everyday objects like toasters or cars.