Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 320: Anomaly

Hagrid had been taken away by the Ministry of Magic, but a deep unease lingered throughout Hogwarts. The monster in the Chamber of Secrets remained at large, able to strike again at any moment.

The professors maintained an air of calm, diligently escorting students from one class to the next during the day and patrolling the castle halls at night. Despite Lockhart’s repeated assurances that the danger had passed and that escorting students was a needless precaution, no one paid him any mind.

These days, the Hufflepuff common room was always packed; with a strict curfew at 6:00 p.m., students had nowhere else to go, and every evening was filled with conversation, rumors, and speculation.

After dinner, Kyle settled into a game of wizard chess with Cedric, but his focus was off. Game after game, Kyle lost without much of a fight, and after an hour, he hadn’t managed a single win.

“I get the feeling you’re not paying attention,” Cedric said as he began putting the chessboard away. “Still thinking about the Chamber of Secrets?”

“No…” Kyle replied, shaking his head. “I just feel a bit unwell.”

For the past few days, he’d been plagued by dizziness and an inability to concentrate, and today it had worsened. While they’d been playing chess, he’d even heard a faint buzzing, like dozens of voices whispering inside his head.

“You’re not catching a cold, are you?” Kanna asked, looking at him with concern.

The weather had been unpredictable lately—though summer was close, it had been raining frequently, with sudden shifts between warm and chilly days. Quite a few students had come down with colds.

“Could be,” Cedric said, stowing away the chess pieces. “Should we let Professor Sprout know and ask her to take you to the Hospital Wing?”

“No need. I’ve got a Pepperup Potion with me.” Kyle patted his forehead, pulling a small bottle of red potion from his pocket. He unscrewed the cap and took a sip.

Instantly, steam billowed from his ears, and the drowsiness lifted somewhat. Still feeling fatigued, Kyle decided to return to the dormitory shortly afterward. He fell into bed, drifting into a strange, vivid dream. In it, he found himself back in the Chamber of Secrets. The snakes carved into the towering pillars seemed to come alive, encircling him in eerie silence. They didn’t attack, nor did they allow him to leave; they simply gathered around him, unblinking.

The next morning, Kyle was woken by Ryan. Professor Sprout was already at the door, ready to escort the Hufflepuffs to class.

“You slept for almost twelve hours,” Mikel noted, placing a few wrapped sandwiches on the table. “Cedric mentioned you weren’t feeling well. Maybe you should ask Professor Sprout for the day off… If anyone can afford to miss a day, it’s you.”

“No, thanks,” Kyle replied, shaking his head. “I took my medicine, so I should be okay.”

“Alright then…” Mikel and Ryan exchanged a glance but didn’t press the matter further.

...

The Pepperup Potion didn’t seem to help Kyle at all. For three days straight, he took it, but he remained groggy, plagued by fatigue and the same unsettling dream every night. By the third evening, he was so exhausted that he fell asleep as soon as he returned to the common room.

“No, you’re definitely going to the Hospital Wing,” Cedric insisted, waking him up. He was determined to write a note to Professor Sprout, and this time, Kyle didn’t refuse—he knew something was truly wrong.

Ratton delivered the message, and while they waited for Professor Sprout, Cedric and Kanna put on their robes, preparing to accompany him to the Hospital Wing. They waited over half an hour before Professor Sprout finally entered the common room, looking pale and red-eyed, as if she’d recently been crying.

“Thank goodness,” she said, managing a strained smile at Kyle. “I’m sorry, dear, for keeping you waiting. I was… delayed. I’ll take you to the Hospital Wing now.”

Cedric and Kanna started to follow, but Professor Sprout gently but firmly told them to stay behind. As she led Kyle down the empty corridors, her nervousness was apparent. She clutched her wand tightly, glancing around every few steps.

Kyle soon understood why.

Nearly every professor was gathered in the Hospital Wing. But they weren’t there because of him—they were standing around Ron Weasley’s hospital bed. Ron lay stiff and unmoving, like a statue.

Professor McGonagall was furiously berating Lockhart. “A student was attacked… because you wanted to fix your hair?!”

“I—I don’t know…” Lockhart stammered, trembling and clutching his wand, which was inexplicably tangled in his hair. “There was only one corridor left… They said they didn’t need to be escorted…”

“So you just left?” Professor McGonagall roared, her expression thunderous. “You knew Dumbledore wasn’t at school today, and yet you let the students walk alone!”

“But Hagrid was caught… so I thought…” Lockhart stuttered.

“Clearly, there’s another Heir,” Snape said icily. “Pity the monster didn’t come for you instead.”

Lockhart fell silent, his face ashen.

“Poppy, could you take a look at this child?” Professor Sprout’s voice cut through the tension as she entered with Kyle.

At her words, the Hospital Wing fell silent. The professors stopped berating Lockhart and turned almost in unison to look at Kyle.

“Don’t worry, Minerva… it wasn’t an attack,” Professor Sprout quickly assured.

The other professors noticed that Kyle had walked in on his own and collectively exhaled in relief. Only Snape’s expression remained conflicted—a strange blend of regret and mild relief.

Madam Pomfrey hurried over to take Kyle’s temperature, performing a thorough examination. As she did so, the professors pulled the curtain around Ron’s bed, obscuring him from view.

Ten minutes later, Madam Pomfrey straightened up. “It’s not a cold… perhaps it’s just stress that’s causing these recurring dreams,” she said gently. She led Kyle to a bed. “You’ll stay here tonight.”

Kyle nodded and sat quietly.

“Is there any chance,” Snape drawled, “that he’s not truly unwell?”

“I can assure you, Professor Snape,” Madam Pomfrey replied sternly, “I’d know if someone were faking. I fully expect that if these attacks continue unresolved, we’ll see more and more cases of students affected by fear.”

She brought over a large bottle labeled Dreamless Sleep Potion and poured a steaming mugful for Kyle. “Drink this—it should help you get some proper rest.”

The potion was unpleasant, as all hospital brews seemed to be, but Kyle drank it down. As he finished, Madam Pomfrey left, drawing the curtain around him for privacy. Soon after, the professors filed out, returning to patrol the castle in case of further attacks.

The Hospital Wing fell into silence, and the potion indeed helped Kyle drift into a peaceful sleep—but only briefly.

Just two hours later, Kyle’s eyes snapped open, and he found himself unable to return to sleep. The scene with Ron weighed heavily on him. If the Basilisk remained unchecked, it was inevitable that more students would be harmed… perhaps even fatally.

Today it was Ron. Tomorrow it could be Cedric, Kanna, George or Fred.

Was it really worth endangering everyone—including his friends—just to preserve the Basilisk? Deep down, he knew the answer was no.

But why, then, had he hesitated all this time?

Kyle’s face grew pale as he considered it. He had already thought of going to Dumbledore, yet after each night’s sleep, the idea seemed to vanish as if it had never crossed his mind. Was he really that forgetful? Or was it… the Confundus Charm?

If he was under a Confundus Charm, then who… Riddle’s diary?

When had Riddle managed to place such a charm on him? And why couldn’t he remember anything about it?

Kyle didn’t dare let himself fall asleep again. Sitting upright, he clenched his fists, resisting the persistent buzzing in his mind.