Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 370: Not a Single Normal Person

After leaving the Headmasterʼs office, Kyle didn’t head directly to Hagrid’s class. Instead, he stopped by the kitchen and asked the House-elves to help him buy a few things: specifically, the furniture for Professor Lupin’s office.

While there were spare items in the storage room or the Room of Requirement, Kyle decided it was better to get new furniture. Professor Lupin had tried to cover for him—even if it hadn’t worked, the effort had meant something. Kyle didn’t want to skimp by just using old pieces. Besides, the cost was minimal, just a few badges’ worth.

By evening, the House-elves had returned, and Professor Lupin’s office was set up with gleaming new furniture. Lupin looked slightly uncomfortable with the polished replacements, handling everything with care as though afraid to damage it.

Kyle had also bought sweets with his remaining money, which he gave to the House-elves as a thank-you. The elves were overjoyed and insisted on filling his hands with more snacks in return. By the time he returned to the common room, his pockets were bulging as if he’d stuffed two Bludgers in there.

Kyle thought that would be the end of it. However, he was in for a surprise. By Friday morning, word had already spread throughout Hogwarts that he had accidentally set fire to Professor Lupin’s office because of a Boggart.

“Hogwarts truly has no secrets,” Kyle sighed as he sat down at the table, taking a sip of pumpkin juice in resignation. In less than half an hour, more than ten people had come by, asking him for details about what had happened. Thankfully, they didn’t know it had been Fiendfyre; everyone assumed it was simply an unusually powerful Fire-Making Charm.

“Hey, Kyle, is it true?” Fred and George appeared, strolling over arm in arm as soon as Kyle set down his cup.

“That was spectacular!” Fred said, sliding into a seat next to him with an exaggerated look of admiration.

George pretended to wipe away a tear. “I heard you only blew up the Boggart after seeing us lying there, dead. Didn’t know you cared so much.”

“There was just one problem…” George shot Cedric, who was eating stew nearby, a side-eye. “Why was he there too?”

“What’s so great about this?” Cedric muttered, looking baffled. Judging by Fred and George’s theatrics, an outsider might have thought they were squabbling over Quidditch tickets instead of debating who should occupy a ‘death spot.’

“With you in the mix, we’ll never know who really died!” Fred said in mock exasperation. “Nearly Headless Nick said there were only two bodies, and if Cedric here counts, it could mean one of us was left out.”

“We argued about it all night…”

“Wait,” Kyle cut in, “did you say Nearly Headless Nick?”

“Yes,” Fred nodded. “He mentioned that he’d drifted into the Defense Against the Dark Arts office while musing about something. Said he saw the whole thing.”

Suddenly, it all made sense to Kyle. He’d wondered how news of the Boggart had spread when only he and Professor Lupin had been in the office. By the time others arrived, it was all over. Yet, somehow, the story had circulated in precise detail—everything except for Lupin giving him the money, as if someone had been watching the whole time.

Kyle had assumed one of the professors might have let something slip. He’d never guessed it was Nearly Headless Nick.

And the ghost had been right there, watching everything.

“So, Kyle…” Fred leaned in, his eyes intense. “Who was it—me or George?”

“It’s important!” George echoed, leaning over just as eagerly.

Cedric watched the twins, eyebrows raised. He was certain neither of them had looked this serious during final exams.

“You’re both right,” Kyle said nonchalantly. “Nearly Headless Nick was mistaken. There were actually three of you; he just missed the other one.”

“Really?” George looked skeptical.

“Really,” Kyle nodded. “You can ask Professor Lupin if you don’t believe me. He saw it.”

Fred and George studied him for a moment, satisfied that he was telling the truth, before sauntering back to the Gryffindor table, where they immediately began bragging.

Around the room, an audible murmur of admiration spread.

“I really don’t understand what they’re so happy about,” Hermione said, snapping her book shut. It was far too noisy to concentrate.

“You’re right,” Ron agreed. “And it was just a Boggart! All it needed was a simple charm.”

Ron looked particularly pleased with himself, feeling for the first time like he held the upper hand over Kyle in something academic.

But Harry was quick to deflate him. “You have to admit, though, Kyle’s method worked faster than ours.”

He poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. “Remember what Nearly Headless Nick said—the Boggart was taken care of instantly, nothing left.”

“It was just the Fire-Making Charm. I could’ve done it too, I just didn’t think of it,” Ron muttered.

Beside him, Hermione frowned. The book didn’t mention using the Fire-Making Charm on Boggarts, and she doubted Dumbledore would dock a hundred points from Hufflepuff over an ordinary charm.

Just then, as Fred and George moved away, Kanna’s head popped over, peering at Kyle.

“What about me? Where was I?” she asked hopefully.

Kyle expressionlessly raised a hand and nudged her aside. “You weren’t there. Go on, go play somewhere else. Stop poking your nose into everything!”

Then he turned to Cho, who was standing nearby, bouncing on her heels excitedly. “You too.”

“Hmph!” Cho huffed, looking hurt.

“Pfft!” Kanna added, equally miffed. They exchanged glances, clearly feeling snubbed and treated unfairly.

Everyone was friends, after all. Cedric, Fred, and George had all been mentioned—but not them? How unfair!

Cho shot him a glare, then dragged Kanna back to the Ravenclaw table in a huff.

Kyle felt a pang of frustration. He couldn’t understand why anyone would care about being included in a Boggart scenario involving “deaths.” Fred and George he could handle—they were unpredictable and loved anything outrageous. But Cho and Kanna?

Was there really no one normal left around him?

Oh, right. There was one. Kyle glanced over at Cedric.

Noticing his gaze, Cedric paused mid-bite on a pumpkin pasty and asked in a low voice, “By the way… how did I die?”

“Stuffed to death on pumpkin pasties,” Kyle said dryly.

Alright, so there really was no one normal around him after all.

“Ha, that’s impossible…” Cedric chuckled, not believing Kyle’s words. But he subtly pushed the half-eaten pumpkin pasty aside and reached for a baked potato instead.

…

More and more students gathered around, all of them eager to hear the “firsthand account” from Kyle.

Luckily, the mail arrived just in time. A large flock of owls swept into the Great Hall, delivering letters and packages to students.

While everyone else read their mail, Kyle polished off the last bit of his pumpkin pasty in two quick bites and slipped out of the Great Hall before anyone else could catch him.