Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 561: Successor to Filch?

In the room, Kyle took his wand and used it like a quill, carefully drawing runes and symbols bit by bit on the mahogany frame.

Drawing runes wasn’t like writing with ink; any mistake was irreversible. It was a painstaking task requiring immense patience and focus—qualities Kyle fortunately possessed.

As he concentrated on the intricate runes, time seemed to blur. A week had passed before he realized he had only completed half the frame. That also meant the Easter holidays were almost over.

That morning, as usual, the House-elf Tata brought a plate of sandwiches and bacon. Since the dining table was far too large and he was the only one there, Kyle found it more comfortable to eat in the room.

He picked up a sandwich and was just about to take a bite when, suddenly, a head emerged from the plate right in front of him.

Startled, Kyle nearly flung the sandwich across the room. Tata, equally frightened, let out a piercing scream and bolted from the room in a panic.

“Lady Helena…” Kyle said, regaining his composure with a lingering sense of shock. “When did you learn Peevesʼs tricks?”

“No wonder Peeves enjoys pranks so much,” Helena said lightly. “It is quite fun.”

Her tone was airy, almost playful, and she no longer carried the weight of her usual solemn demeanor. She was smiling—brightly and genuinely.

As the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw, Helena had always been considered one of the most striking of the Hogwarts ghosts. Even with her usual stern expression, she stood out. Now, with her radiant smile, she could likely leave even the Bloody Baron dumbfounded.

“Lady Helena, one Peeves is already enough for the castle,” Kyle said helplessly, setting his sandwich down. “If there were two, I think everyone would lose their minds. Are you finished scaring people?”

“Not quite,” Helena replied with a shake of her head. “But Mother said we can talk more later. For now, we should leave you alone.”

“Leave me alone?” Kyle asked, looking up at her, puzzled.

“You’ll understand soon enough,” Helena said, her smile widening. “But you should hurry. The Easter holidays are almost over.”

Kyle nodded, putting away his wand and the half-finished frame. He stood and walked towards the other room. Tata had long since vanished after the terrified outburst.

Kyle descended the stairs and pushed open the oak door of the adjoining room.

On the table, sitting prominently, was the Diadem.

Pausing, Kyle picked it up, hesitating slightly as he considered whether or not to put it on.

“Don’t worry, with mother around, she won’t let you get carried away,” said Helena, following behind Kyle. There was a trace of pride in her voice—a natural sentiment for the daughter of Ravenclaw.

Without further hesitation, Kyle placed the Diadem on his head.

This time, however, he didn’t feel the heightened magical state he had experienced before. He exhaled slowly, uncertain if he was relieved or disappointed by the absence of the sensation.

“Thank you, my boy,” came the soft voice of Rowena Ravenclaw. “For bringing Helena to me. This child has never been fond of speaking with me, and I seldom paid attention to what she truly wanted... If I had been more attentive to her, perhaps she wouldn’t have felt compelled to steal the Diadem.”

“I never imagined the things I neglected in life would become a yoke, binding her for over a thousand years.”

“It’s a bit late, but the misunderstanding has been resolved,” Kyle said gently. “And Lady Helena helped me a lot during the Triwizard Tournament... Oh, it’s a competition between the three major European wizarding schools. Aside from Hogwarts, there’s Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.”

“The school founded by Nerida Vulchanova?” Ravenclaw murmured thoughtfully. “Salazar admired her teaching philosophy greatly at the time, though Godric strongly opposed it. They quarreled about it fiercely.”

Kyle blinked, piecing the information together.

If Slytherin supported the school, then it probably wasn’t Beauxbatons. Durmstrang, then?

He hadn’t realized that the founder of Durmstrang had ties to the Hogwarts Founders.

“Regardless, you’ve resolved my greatest regret,” Ravenclaw continued, her voice growing faint, as though her presence was fading. “A regret I could not rectify in life.”

Her tone steadied slightly. “As thanks, I will grant you one request, as I promised. Be it wealth or knowledge, ask, and it shall be yours.”

Kyle’s excitement flared. While it might seem a bit transactional, he had been waiting for this moment.

After all, Ravenclaw was one of the Founders—a far cry from Dumbledore’s approach, which often came with numerous restrictions.

“I want to learn the Vanishing Spell,” Kyle said without hesitation.

“The Vanishing Spell?” Ravenclaw mused. “A spell to destroy objects? I can teach you, but I must warn you: this spell involves complex runic constructs. The smallest error can backfire disastrously, causing irreversible damage. Even in my era, it was considered exceedingly dangerous.”

“We preferred the Magma Devouring Spell. Its effect is less intuitive than the Vanishing Spell, but it is similar in outcome and much safer.”

Kyle’s mouth twitched slightly. It felt like Ravenclaw had misunderstood something. Erasure and disappearance weren’t exactly the same thing. And comparing it to magma? That wasn’t quite what he had in mind.

Still, he had to admit he was tempted—briefly. Shaking off the thought, he refocused and clarified.

“No, you’re mistaken. I meant this Vanishing Spell.”

Kyle retrieved his wand and aimed it at a book on the table. With a quiet Evanesco, the book vanished, reappearing moments later when he recited the counter-spell.

“An impressive Transfiguration Spell,” Ravenclaw remarked. “Your execution is stable. I don’t think you need further instruction.”

“Only for objects,” Kyle explained. “But I want to learn how to cast it on myself.”

He quickly outlined his idea: using the Vanishing Spell to make himself truly invisible.

“That is an intriguing concept,” Ravenclaw said.

“Is it possible?” Kyle asked, hope rising.

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation. “The main challenge lies in resolving the conflict of magical forces. To overcome this, you would need to turn yourself into a Squib.”

Kyle’s excitement plummeted instantly.

“So… forget it?”

Becoming a Squib would render him unable to use magic—a deal-breaker. He wasn’t keen on taking over Filch’s role at Hogwarts just yet, even if it might make catching rule-breakers easier.

“No, there’s another way,” Ravenclaw added. “The simplest solution is through the use of a magical object.”

“What kind of object?” Kyle asked, eager once more.

“Salazar possessed a locket that was attuned to his own magic,” Ravenclaw explained calmly. “When worn, the locket would integrate with the wearer while remaining partially independent.

“This allowed the user to cast spells without relying on their own magic.”