Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 263: The Heartless Dumbledore

The next morning, Kyle arrived at The Burrow early and used the fireplace to travel to Diagon Alley. As he’d expected, anything related to dragons came at a premium—dragon blood included. A small vial set him back twelve Galleons, a price that made him wince. So much for a “free” talking book, he thought ruefully. Bad review!

After picking up the dragon blood, Kyle decided to swing by the Junk Shop, where he ran into Percy, who was just exiting the shop, clutching a book with a mixture of pride and pain.

Mrs. Weasley hadn’t been comfortable with Kyle going to Diagon Alley alone, so she had asked Percy to join him. It just so happened that Percy had been meaning to buy the book he’d seen a few days earlier: Prefects Who Gained Power.

Ever since he’d come across it, Percy had felt as though the book contained his future path. Every time he closed his eyes, the “words of wisdom” within it seemed to echo in his mind, each reading revealing some new insight. Unable to shake the feeling that he might miss something crucial, he had decided to buy it—even if it meant spending every bit of his allowance.

Kyle glanced at Percy, who was holding the book as if it were a priceless treasure. Curious, he asked, “How much did you spend?”

“Nine Galleons—all the pocket money I’ll have for the next two years!” Percy replied, with a mix of pride and resignation. “It was supposed to be eighteen Galleons, but the shopkeeper gave me a great discount when he saw I didn’t have enough.”

Kyle raised his eyebrows. In a second-hand shop, books usually went for half the price of those at Flourish and Blotts. Meaning, the original price of Prefects Who Gained Power was thirty-six Galleons—a shockingly high price.

By Merlin’s beard, that’s more than seven of Lockhart’s books combined! Kyle mused, thinking back to Lockhart’s titles, which had seemed steep at five Galleons each. Looks like Lockhart’s prices aren’t so bad after all.

But Kyle kept his thoughts to himself. After all, it wasn’t his money.

This time, they didnʼt run into any acquaintances on their way back and returned to The Burrow via the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron.

Mrs. Weasley had just finished preparing breakfast: corned beef sandwiches and fried potatoes.

Percy didn’t join them at the table, instead grabbing two sandwiches and hurrying upstairs to study his classic texts. Kyle sat down next to Ron, who was grimacing as he struggled with a tough piece of corned beef, his whole face scrunched up.

“You’re back, Kyle.”

Fred, seated across from him, rubbed his chin thoughtfully and asked, “What did you go to Diagon Alley to buy?”

“Dragon’s blood.” Kyle pulled out a small bottle, and a faintly fishy odor immediately filled the air.

“Oh, that smell is awful,” said George, pinching his nose. “Put it away!”

Kyle shrugged. There was nothing he could do about it; fresh dragon’s blood simply smelled that way, and the apothecary’s bottle wasn’t the best—it was sealed just enough to prevent leaks. When he put the bottle back in his leather bag, the smell around him lessened slightly.

“Dragon’s blood isn’t cheap,” noted Fred. “Are you brewing some kind of potion?”

“No, I’ve got other uses for it,” Kyle replied, shaking his head. “By the way, have you seen that parchment I gave you?”

“Speaking of which…” Fred suddenly stood up, looking excited. “Kyle, you’re an absolute genius! The magic formula you gave us is brilliant!”

George enthusiastically pushed a plate piled high with corned beef sandwiches towards Kyle. “Just a small tweak, and all our issues were sorted out. The Trick Wand is a complete success!”

“Don’t tell me you’re discussing those magic tricks again…” Mrs. Weasley interrupted as she came over with a plate of sausages, casting Fred and George a disapproving look.

“No, Mum!” George quickly clarified, “We’re discussing ancient runes.”

“That’s right,” Fred added, producing a parchment covered with various symbols and formulas. “We’re working on practical applications of Runes. Professor Babbling left us this assignment.”

Mrs. Weasley glanced at the parchment and saw that it was indeed filled with magical symbols, along with sections clearly written in the twins’ handwriting.

“Oh, I see… Sorry, Fred… and George.”

She placed several sausages on their plates. Fred winked at Kyle.

“It’s all right… but Mum, I’m George!”

Kyle grinned and took a bite of his sandwich. He had to admit that Mrs. Weasley’s corned beef was extremely dry and tough… nearly like jerky. But it still tasted good.

After breakfast, Fred fetched his broomstick.

“Kyle, how about a game of Quidditch later?”

“Cedric’s back, so we could have a House match.”

Kyle glanced at them and immediately declined. With a house full of Gryffindors, and Ginny—though not yet sorted—likely joining in, he knew it was a stacked lineup. Five against two might have been manageable, but with three seasoned players on their side, it would be madness to take them on in a house match.

“At worst, we’ll let you have Ginny,” George offered generously. “She hasn’t been sorted yet, so she can go wherever.”

“And Harry,” Kyle added.

“Not a chance…”

“Fine, then!”

After firmly rejecting this one-sided match, Kyle left The Burrow. He planned to head back to catch up with Riddle—after all, he had splurged on the “Dragon Blood Membership,” and he wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

...

But ultimately, this idea didn’t come to pass. It had nothing to do with Fred and the others—Kyle had just returned to his room when a large, fiery red bird swooped in, landing on his shoulder.

“Fawkes?”

Kyle stared in surprise at the Phoenix perched on him. “What are you doing here?”

Fawkes ruffled his tail feathers and tossed a suitcase down in front of Kyle—the very suitcase Kyle had given Dumbledore before the holidays.

“You brought it?”

Any thoughts of Riddle vanished as Kyle excitedly picked up the suitcase, inspecting it from all angles. “Thanks, Fawkes. Where’s Professor Dumbledore?” he asked absently, still examining the suitcase.

He shouldn’t have asked. The instant the words left his mouth, Fawkes let out a sharp, indignant chirp and began flapping his wings furiously, clearly trying to convey a message.

“You’re saying… he went to the Austrian Wizarding Congress by himself and sent you to deliver this?” Kyle frowned slightly, thinking it over. If he remembered correctly, Nurmengard was located somewhere near Austria…

Fawkes gave a vigorous nod, still flapping his wings in agitation, as though denouncing some shameless scoundrel who tossed aside the familiar for something new.

Unfortunately, Kyle bore the brunt of Fawkes’ frustration. The Phoenix’s flapping wings struck him repeatedly, and it stung.

Hurriedly, Kyle fished out a handful of fresh herbs to calm him. “It’s all right, don’t be mad. Here, have something to eat—it’s all fresh. Look, you don’t need to waste your energy being upset over someone like that. He…”