Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 638: The Kind-Hearted Professor

Everyone came with a clear purpose: to learn what they needed. The group had exactly one hour in the Room of Requirement since they needed to return to their respective common rooms before Hogwarts’ nine o’clock curfew.

Fortunately, the Leg-Locker Curse wasn’t a complex spell. Most students managed to master it within half an hour—well, most of them.

Neville was the exception.

To avoid holding up the group, Hermione decided to give him private lessons later.

“I hope she doesn’t lose it when the time comes,” Ron whispered.

Harry chuckled. Neville’s struggles with magic were well-known, often testing even Professor McGonagall’s legendary patience. Despite his slow progress, Harry understood that Neville truly gave his best effort. His poor memory was a constant hurdle—he could sometimes forget a spell he’d just learned within hours, or even minutes.

But for now, that wasn’t their concern.

When everyone had finally set their wands down, Hermione cleared her throat and addressed the group.

“There’s still some time before curfew, so I think we should choose a leader,” she said.

She had intended to bring this up earlier, but Anthony’s challenge—and the subsequent excitement over the Galleons—had derailed her plans. Now that the practice session was winding down, it seemed like the perfect time to revisit the idea.

A low buzz filled the room as everyone began discussing the proposal.

It didn’t take long for someone to suggest the most obvious candidate—the person who had contributed fifty Galleons to fuel their enthusiasm.

“I propose Kyle…” the student began, but then paused, looking confused. “Wait, where is Kyle?”

Suddenly, everyone realized that Kyle wasn’t in the room.

Their eyes scanned the space, but the room wasn’t large, and it was quickly evident that Kyle was nowhere to be found.

“He’s already gone back,” Luna said matter-of-factly from within the crowd. “I bet he found a Pao-Bat hiding in the dark and went after it.”

“What’s a Pao-Bat?” Neville asked, his confusion mirrored by a few others.

“A fairy,” Luna explained, her wide eyes gleaming. “It can show people the way.”

“Those don’t exist,” Hermione interjected with a frown. “At least, I’m pretty sure there’s no record of such creatures in any book.”

“If you’d read The Quibbler, you wouldn’t be so sure,” Luna retorted, sounding offended.

Hermione, however, didn’t press the issue. With nine o’clock approaching, she decided it wasn’t worth wasting time on a pointless argument.

“Where were we?”

“Choosing a leader.”

“Ah, yes,” Hermione said. “I think the leader should be someone who can guarantee they’ll be present every time. Kyle isn’t suitable.”

“Then I vote for Cedric,” a Hufflepuff student suggested. “He’s Head Boy.”

“It’s no big deal,” Ron interjected. “I think Harry is fine too.”

“Since there are disagreements,” Hermione said, glancing at both sides, “then let’s vote.”

The room buzzed with energy, the lively atmosphere surpassing even their earlier excitement during Charms practice.

In addition to selecting a leader, they had to settle on a name for their group and agree on the time for their next meeting. These discussions stretched far longer than expected, and by the time everything was finalized, it was already ten minutes past nine.

Though it was later than planned, there hadn’t been any other way. With so many people involved, finding a consensus that satisfied everyone was a slow process.

When Cedric carefully returned to the Hufflepuff common room, he noticed Kyle sitting at an innermost table, quill in hand, writing intently.

“Why are you already back?” Cedric asked, approaching him.

“I suddenly remembered I hadn’t finished my Potions homework,” Kyle said, gesturing toward the book Potions and Cauldrons on the table. “I didn’t want to stay up all night, so I came back early.”

“How did it go there? Did everything go smoothly?”

“You’ve got some nerve bringing that up!” Cedric snapped, his frustration flaring. “Why did you suddenly offer fifty Galleons as a reward?”

“Is there a problem?” Kyle asked, setting down his quill. “I think it’s the best way to motivate them to study hard.”

“Voldemort, Death Eaters… those things feel like distant fantasies until someone sees them firsthand. But shiny Galleons? Now that provides immediate incentive. You saw how much harder they worked.”

“Of course I noticed,” Cedric said. “But fifty Galleons? Not fifty Sickles—Galleons. That’s a ridiculous amount.”

For most students, fifty Galleons was an enormous sum—far more than their yearly pocket money. Offering such a prize in a classroom setting seemed extravagant. Five Galleons would have been more than enough.

Cedric wouldn’t have been so upset if Kyle had positioned himself as the challenge target, knowing full well no one could defeat him. The money would have been safe. But Kyle had put Cedric in the spotlight instead, and that made him uneasy.

It wasn’t just the pressure. Cedric had to admit that the situation had boosted his reputation immensely. During the voting, he’d been chosen as the leader by a wide margin.

Oh, and the group now had a name: Dumbledore’s Army, or DA for short. The name had been Cho’s idea, inspired by Umbridge’s paranoia about Dumbledore forming a secret force. The irony wasn’t lost on anyone, and the suggestion was unanimously accepted.

Still, Cedric couldn’t shake the worry.

What if someone managed to defeat him? Then Kyle’s fifty Galleons would be gone.

When he’d left the Room of Requirement earlier, Cedric had noticed some students looking at him with a peculiar gleam in their eyes—like he was a walking treasure chest, ready to spill gold coins if cracked open.

“Don’t worry. I believe in you,” Kyle said sincerely.

“But I don’t believe in myself,” Cedric muttered. “Angelina Johnson isn’t much weaker than I am, and there are two sixth-years from Ravenclaw I’m not sure I can beat either.”

“You underestimate yourself,” Kyle said, waving a hand dismissively. “They’re no match for you. I guarantee it.”

“And Fred and George?” Cedric continued. “I’m confident I can handle either of them one-on-one, but they never fight fair. You know they won’t stick to dueling rules.”

Kyle paused, considering this.

“Hmmm…”

Cedric sighed.

“Well, I suppose it’s fine if you lose,” Kyle said after a moment. “Fifty Galleons isn’t that big of a deal. I’ll just get someone to reimburse me.”

“Reimburse you?” Cedric stared at him. “Who? Don’t tell me it’s Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“Ah, no, Dumbledore isn’t that generous,” Kyle replied with a chuckle. “It’s another kind professor.”

Cedric gave Kyle a skeptical look but decided not to press further. He muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

In any case, he had a rough time ahead at the next DA meeting.

Forget the others for now—he just hoped Fred and George wouldn’t resort to too many underhanded tactics.