Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 580: The Department of Mysteries’ Targeted Magic

Kyle followed Professor McGonagall and the others through the silent foyer, deep in thought. Soon, they arrived at the Hospital Wing.

Filch was placed on the innermost bed, and Mrs. Norris immediately leaped onto it, curling protectively beside him. In the adjacent bed lay Viktor Krum, unconscious.

“Professor, why is Krum here?” Harry asked curiously. He hadn’t seen the match and had no idea what had happened.

“He encountered the Three-Headed Dog,” Professor McGonagall replied in a hushed tone. “If he hadn’t fired the red signal into the sky in time, it could have been far worse than just a coma.”

“I’ve said before—Acromantulas and Manticores are dangerous enough for the maze. There was absolutely no need to include a Three-Headed Dog!”

Madam Pomfrey, who had just approached, twitched at McGonagall’s comment, her lips pressing into a thin line. Every mention of a Magical Creature seemed to fray her patience further.

Though Madam Pomfrey understood the inherent risks of the Triwizard Tournament, she couldn’t reconcile herself with its constant endangerment of students. Her grievances against Dumbledore had begun with the First Task and had continued without pause.

“I truly hope we won’t host another of these tournaments,” she muttered, her voice tinged with exasperation. “At least not at Hogwarts. Dangerous beasts like that have no place in a school.”

“You’re right,” McGonagall agreed with a sharp nod. “But don’t worry. The Triwizard Tournament only happens once every five years, rotating between the three schools. It won’t be Hogwarts’ turn again for another 15 years...”

She hesitated before adding, “If the tournament isn’t canceled outright.”

The Triwizard Cup being turned into a Portkey had caused a scandal, and with Voldemort’s return now undeniable, there was a real possibility the event might be permanently suspended.

Kyle, however, didn’t care. He had already won once, and the tournament’s fate no longer mattered to him. Harry felt much the same—being in his fourth year, he wouldn’t qualify for the next tournament anyway.

“This is for you,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing Harry a bottle of deep purple potion.

“You’ll need to drink it all,” she instructed. “It will help you get a peaceful night’s sleep.”

Harry nodded, took a few sips, and felt its effects almost immediately. The potion’s warmth and soothing properties made his eyelids heavy, and he shuffled to the nearest bed before collapsing into a deep sleep.

“And this is yours,” Madam Pomfrey said, turning to Kyle and handing him a similar potion.

“Thank you,” Kyle replied, slipping the bottle into his pocket. He planned to drink it later in the quiet of his dormitory.

Madam Pomfrey gave him a once-over. Seeing that he looked perfectly fine, she said no more and turned back to her other patients.

Just then, the door to the Hospital Wing opened again. Chris and Diana entered, one after the other.

“Go on,” Professor McGonagall said to Kyle. “I’m sure they have plenty to discuss with you, but this is hardly the place for it.”

Kyle nodded and stepped outside with his friends.

The three of them walked into the courtyard, where Chris couldn’t wait any longer. “What happened?” he demanded. “Why did you disappear when you touched the Triwizard Cup? That wasn’t part of the tournament rules!”

“It was Karkaroff,” Kyle explained calmly. “He swapped the Cup with a Portkey.”

He then recounted the events atop the hill, his voice steady as he detailed Voldemort’s resurrection.

Chris visibly shuddered as the enormity of the revelation sank in. “Is this... true?” he asked, unable to suppress a tremor in his voice.

“Professor Dumbledore witnessed it as well,” Kyle said. “He’s discussing it with Minister Fudge as we speak.”

Surprisingly, Chris and Diana processed the news more quickly than expected.

“No wonder Karkaroff volunteered to place the Cup in the maze,” Chris muttered, his voice low. “That’s what he was up to all along.”

“How are you holding up?” Diana asked, stepping closer to Kyle and examining him intently, her hands gripping his shoulders.

“I’m fine, Mum,” Kyle said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I used the phoenix feather, and Professor Dumbledore got Harry and me out of the fight as soon as he arrived.”

He paused, then opened his hand to reveal a small ring resting in his palm.

Diana exhaled sharply, relief washing over her features. The sight of the ring seemed to calm her nerves—it was something she had forgotten about entirely in her alarm over Voldemort’s name.

The enchantment on the ring allowed Kyle to Apparate instantly, provided he wasn’t in a restricted location like Hogwarts. It was a failsafe she had insisted he carry.

“You referees are useless!” Diana suddenly snapped, her anger flaring as she rounded on Chris. “You didn’t even notice the Cup had been switched! And Dumbledore—how could he let a Death Eater abduct someone right under his nose? When did his vigilance drop so low?”

Chris remained silent, his head bowed. He knew better than to try to defend himself—he was already painfully aware of his failure.

If he had suspected such a scheme, he never would have allowed Karkaroff to handle the trophy. But no one had anticipated such treachery, and now he could only accept Diana’s reprimand.

Kyle wisely stayed quiet as well, sensing that intervening would likely result in him being drawn into his mother’s ire. It was better to let the storm pass on its own.

Luckily, after a few tense moments, an owl swooped across the dark night sky and landed gracefully in front of Diana.

This owl was unusual—its eyes were a piercing blue, and its talons held no letters or packages.

As Diana looked at it, its beak began to move soundlessly. Kyle tilted his head, puzzled, for he couldn’t hear a single word.

“This is a mission owl from the Department of Mysteries,” Chris explained quietly. “Only Unspeakables can hear what it’s saying.”

Kyle nodded, watching as the owl’s message concluded. The bird closed its beak, then spread its wings and disappeared into the night.

Diana’s expression grew annoyed as she turned back to them. “I have to go,” she said sharply, her gaze flitting between Chris and Kyle. “But don’t think for a moment this conversation is over.”

She fixed Chris with a particularly scathing look before turning to Kyle.

“And you—stay in the castle until the holidays are over. I don’t care what you’ve discovered or what you’re planning. You are not to leave Hogwarts. Understood?”

The intensity of her stare made the air around Kyle feel colder. He nodded quickly. “Don’t worry, Mum. I’ll stay put.”

“Good,” Diana said, her expression softening slightly. “Things are different now. Be careful...”

She stepped closer and kissed Kyle gently on the forehead.

Before Kyle could say anything else, Diana’s face suddenly hardened again.

“Tell me the truth!” she demanded sternly. “When you were at the top of that hill, did you kill a Death Eater?”

Kyle’s heart sank. He had deliberately avoided mentioning this to anyone, including Harry, who had helped him conceal the truth when recounting the events to Dumbledore and the others.

But Diana’s tone wasn’t one of suspicion—it was of certainty. Somehow, she already knew.

“Hurry up and answer me!” she pressed.

“Yes...” Kyle admitted reluctantly. “But it wasn’t my fault. He ran into it himself, and I was just defending myself! The Aurors shouldn’t hold that against me—right?”

“If it was a Death Eater, then it’s fine,” Diana said dismissively, cutting him off with a wave of her hand.

Her expression, however, darkened as she seemed to replay the events in her mind. She turned to glare at Chris again, her voice tight with frustration. “Look what you’ve done!”

Chris opened his mouth as if to reply, but in the end, he only sighed heavily.

This wasn’t what he had wanted for Kyle. If war came again, he had hoped to shield his son from its horrors—at least until he graduated. But now, Kyle was already entangled in a battle against Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

Diana glanced at the time and sighed. “We’ll discuss this later,” she said firmly. “But remember, Kyle—you’re to stay at Hogwarts no matter what happens.”

With one last stern look, she vanished in the blink of an eye.

Kyle blinked, startled. “The school’s restrictions on Apparition are lifted?”

“No,” Chris said, shaking his head. “That wasn’t Apparition. It’s a specialized form of directional magic exclusive to Unspeakables. They can use it only when summoned by a mission owl. There are a lot of restrictions on it, though.”