Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 674: The Anti-Death Eater Frontline

The room, to be honest, wasnʼt spacious. It contained only a desk and chair set, along with a bookcase that stretched all the way to the ceiling. However, compared to most offices in the Ministry of Magic—often no larger than broom closets and crammed with two or three people—this was considered top-tier.

Take, for instance, Mr. Weasleyʼs Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, which Kyle had visited once. It was barely larger than a broom cupboard, yet somehow managed to squeeze in two desks. The cabinets overflowed with miscellaneous items, and stray papers were scattered everywhere, leaving almost no room to place your feet.

Kyle had often wondered why Ministry staff didn’t use the Undetectable Extension Charm to make their offices more spacious. He had even asked Mr. Weasley about it once, but the man had shrugged it off, saying he was used to things as they were and didn’t see the need for unnecessary fuss.

When Fudge arrived in his office, he removed his hat and asked, “What do you think of the place?”

“It’s very nice,” Kyle replied. “I suppose this makes it official. Any tasks for the Minister?”

“Not exactly tasks,” Fudge said, toying with his hat. “You’re still in your sixth year, so your studies should remain your priority.”

Kyle didn’t believe him. Fudge wouldn’t have let Umbridge leave without reason—there was clearly something he wanted to say. Besides, Kyle was being paid 150 Galleons a month, which meant he wasn’t taking the money for nothing. Fudge wasn’t known for being generous. Cedric’s meager seven Galleons was proof enough of that.

So Kyle remained silent, waiting for Fudge to continue. Sure enough, after a moment, Fudge asked, as though offhandedly, “I heard Albus mention that you saved Harry Potter during the last event of the Triwizard Tournament?”

“That’s right,” Kyle replied without hesitation. “A Death Eater used Polyjuice Potion to infiltrate the castle and abduct Harry.”

“And how did you figure that out?” Fudge pressed. “I recall you were still working on the third task at the time.”

“Because of the Triwizard Cup,” Kyle explained. “It had been turned into a Portkey. When I touched it, I was transported to where Harry was.”

“Oh, yes, now I remember,” Fudge said, nodding in realization. “After you took the Cup, you suddenly disappeared. To be honest, I’d thought it was just part of the task.”

“It wasn’t. I was sent to the top of a mountain—”

“So, you also saw You-Know-Who’s resurrection?” Fudge interrupted, his eyes narrowing as he fixed Kyle with an intense stare.

“I didn’t witness You-Know-Who’s resurrection,” Kyle replied calmly, his expression steady. “But there were definitely Death Eaters plotting something there. Dumbledore arrived shortly after and brought Harry and me back to Hogwarts. As for what happened next, only Dumbledore knows.”

Fudge said nothing, merely fidgeting with his hat as he studied Kyle. He didn’t think the boy was lying; everything fit. Kyle had vanished after touching the Cup, and Dumbledore had disappeared shortly afterward.

There was another important detail: if Kyle had seen You-Know-Who, there was no reason for him to align with the Ministry, especially given Dumbledore’s public stance on the Dark Lord’s return.

Fudge’s expression grew complicated, tinged with faint disappointment. Just a month ago, the last thing he had wanted was confirmation of You-Know-Who’s resurrection. Now, perversely, he hoped it was true.

The truth was, Fudge himself wasn’t sure. He had published the report of You-Know-Who’s return under pressure from Dumbledore, who had all but forced his hand. Ten Death Eaters had escaped from Azkaban simultaneously, and if Dumbledore leveraged that, Fudge’s position as Minister would be untenable. Even retaining the post offered little comfort; since the prison break, his office had been inundated with angry letters, many of them Howlers, demanding his resignation.

These letters had once been directed at Dumbledore. Now, they were aimed squarely at him.

Over time, the outrage had only grown louder, spreading even within the Ministry. The simplest solution would be for You-Know-Who to make a public appearance. If the Dark Lord’s return was undeniable, the backlash would dissipate, and Fudge’s position would be secure.

But that was beyond Fudge’s control. And deep down, he dreaded the idea.

For now, all he could do was seek credible witnesses, especially those with influence, to testify about You-Know-Who. He had brought up this matter with Dumbledore during a visit to Hogwarts, but progress had been nonexistent. It seemed Dumbledore had no intention of helping him.

“Kyle...” Fudge suddenly asked, “do you believe that You-Know-Who has returned?”

“Of course,” Kyle replied. “After all, it was in the newspapers. He broke ten Death Eaters out of Azkaban. If it wasn’t You-Know-Who, who else would go to such lengths for them?”

“But many people still don’t believe it,” Fudge said gravely. “That kind of denial is dangerous. The reason I risked my position by making this announcement was to ensure everyone is prepared for the war that’s coming.”

“But now, too many claim I’m acting out of self-interest. If this mindset continues, all our efforts will be for nothing.”

“That’s true,” Kyle agreed with a nod. “So, what exactly is the Minister suggesting...?”

“I recall you have a good relationship with Mr. Scamander,” Fudge said. “As a renowned expert on Magical Creatures, his endorsement could sway public opinion.”

“I understand. I’ll try to convince Newt,” Kyle said.

“That would be excellent,” Fudge replied with a smile. “Well, get settled in. I have matters to attend to.” He adjusted his hat and turned to leave.

“Wait a moment, Minister,” Kyle called after him. “I have a small idea that might also help.”

“Oh? What is it?” Fudge paused, looking intrigued.

Kyle glanced at the closed door and lowered his voice. “I think one reason people don’t believe us is that it’s too quiet right now.”

“Quiet?”

“Exactly,” Kyle explained. “Ever since the Death Eaters escaped, there’s been no activity from them. It’s as if they’ve disappeared. That’s not like them, and it’s no wonder people are skeptical.”

“Most people associate the Death Eaters with arrogance and boldness, especially with You-Know-Who behind them.”

“But they really are hiding,” Fudge sighed. “Neither the Hit Wizards nor the Aurors have found any trace of them.”

“But what if we did...” Kyle’s tone sharpened. “The Ministry handles numerous incidents every day. Couldn’t we attribute one of these cases to Antonin Dolohov or another Death Eater?”

Fudge’s gaze sharpened, the implication sinking in. The Death Eaters’ actual actions didn’t matter. Among the many crimes and disturbances the Ministry investigated daily, they could pick one with a particularly negative impact and assign it to the Death Eaters.

And as for what constituted “negative,” Fudge recalled hearing a report that morning about someone casting a Protean Charm to prank Muggles in their garden. Couldn’t that be spun into a Death Eater attack?

The idea tempted him, but he frowned, hesitating. “But what if we can’t catch anyone?”

“Isn’t that to be expected?” Kyle replied smoothly. “Death Eaters are notoriously difficult to apprehend. Simply claiming they were involved will be enough to put the public on alert.”

Fudge’s eyes lit up, and he removed his hat again, pacing as he considered the idea. “Do you think it’s better to have Hit Wizards or Aurors investigate such cases?”

“Neither,” Kyle said firmly. “To handle the Death Eaters, you need someone meticulous, unafraid of danger, and absolutely loyal to the Ministry. They must also hold a high enough rank—someone like a director or deputy minister—so their findings carry weight.”

Fudge repeated Kyle’s words, thinking hard about who might fit the criteria. Loyalty mattered most. By that measure, none of the directors would work; Fudge knew they wouldn’t agree to such a scheme. Even if they did, he wouldn’t trust them.

But who else was there? Kyle himself was a perfect candidate, but his schoolwork left him no time for such a role.

Suddenly, Fudge had an idea. Someone who fit all the requirements had come to mind.

“What do you think of Dolores?”

“Professor Umbridge?” Kyle considered for a moment. “I’d say she’s overqualified for Hogwarts. The Anti-Death Eater Front would be a much better platform for her to showcase her skills.”

“The Anti-Death Eater Front...” Fudge mulled over the phrase, his excitement building.

“Ah, I knew it,” Fudge said with a broad grin. “Bringing you into the Ministry was the best decision I’ve made this year. I didn’t expect you to come up with a way to expose the Death Eaters’ schemes on your very first day.”

“I’m just offering a humble suggestion, Minister,” Kyle replied modestly. “The person who takes on this work will be the true hero in the fight against the Death Eaters.”

“Indeed,” Fudge said, his worry fading as a smile spread across his face. He left the office looking noticeably relieved.

...

To be honest, the Hogwarts students’ visit to the Ministry of Magic was mostly a formality—a chance to familiarize themselves with the environment rather than accomplish any real work. Even so, by the end of the day, their faces beamed with unrestrained joy.

Unlike the routine of school, the Ministry was filled with novelty and excitement. Even without accomplishing much, the students knew they’d have plenty to brag about when they returned.

Only Cedric, who had his father’s full trust, had been kept busy the entire day, determined to demonstrate his competence.

“I wrote five reports and used up nearly a whole roll of parchment,” he grumbled that afternoon, rubbing his sore wrist. “I never imagined the Department for the Control and Management of Magical Creatures would deal with such tedious cases. Adding wings to pythons? Passing off Cornish Pixies as Leprechauns? Do people really have nothing better to do?”

“That’s exactly how it is,” Kyle replied. “You don’t think dangerous creatures just stroll onto the streets every day, do you?”

“Of course not,” Cedric said, scratching his head.

“And your father?” Kyle asked with a knowing look. “Didn’t he help you at all?”

Cedric’s expression shifted, and he whispered, “He hasn’t been in the office all day.”

“I see,” Kyle said, nodding in understanding.

It wasn’t hard to guess—Mr. Diggory had likely dumped all the work on Cedric and spent the day proudly showing off his son.

Still, Cedric had done remarkably well. Few could manage an entire day’s workload on their first attempt. While the tasks weren’t particularly complex, they were undoubtedly tedious.

As the day drew to a close, Kyle and Cedric headed toward the lift, preparing to gather in the lobby with the others before returning to Hogwarts through the fireplace.

The lift soon arrived with a clank, and they stepped inside. To their surprise, someone familiar was already there.

“Long time no see, Percy,” Kyle greeted politely.

It truly had been a while since Kyle had seen Percy. According to Fred, Percy had severed ties with the Weasley family after their move to 12 Grimmauld Place. Worse, he had even returned the Christmas sweater Mrs. Weasley had lovingly knitted for him.

Fred and George had been livid, vowing to teach Percy a lesson the next time they saw him.

Kyle found Percy’s behavior distasteful, but he didn’t want to meddle in family matters. Out of courtesy, he greeted Percy, but he had no intention of engaging further.

Cedric didn’t even bother with a greeting, standing silently beside Kyle.

The atmosphere in the lift turned awkward, a heavy silence filling the space. Percy, standing in the corner, looked conflicted. He seemed on the verge of speaking but couldn’t quite bring himself to.

It wasn’t until the lift reached the foyer and Kyle and Cedric stepped out that Percy finally spoke.

“Please wait...”

The two stopped and turned back.

“Congratulations, Kyle,” Percy said, forcing a stiff smile. Envy flickered briefly in his eyes. “I heard you’ve been made Senior Assistant to the Minister. That’s... impressive. I’m also an Assistant, so I’m happy to be working with you.”

“Thanks,” Kyle replied casually. “But I’ll only be here once a week, so I doubt we’ll have much opportunity to work together.”

Percy’s smile faltered. He hadn’t expected Kyle to brush him off so bluntly. Of course, he’d considered this possibility—especially after returning Mrs. Weasley’s Christmas sweater—but it still stung.

What Percy hadn’t anticipated was Kyle’s meteoric rise to Senior Assistant to the Minister for Magic, a position that made him nearly a direct superior.

Desperately searching for a way to salvage the conversation, Percy turned to Cedric.

“I’m with the Department for the Control and Management of Magical Creatures,” Cedric said politely, cutting Percy off before he could say more. “If you’ll excuse us...”

Kyle glanced across the lobby at Professor McGonagall, who was motioning for the group to gather. “We’re heading back to Hogwarts now.”

“Wait,” Percy blurted, his voice tinged with desperation. “I know I’ve made mistakes. Mum was right—I should’ve trusted Dumbledore. Could you... could you help me talk to them?”

“Sorry, we can’t do that,” Kyle interrupted firmly. “If you want their forgiveness, you’ll need to ask for it yourself.”

He continued, “Mr. Weasley works on the second floor. You’re just one floor apart—you could easily find time to speak with him.”

“I... I wouldn’t know what to say,” Percy admitted, blushing. “I’ve done so many terrible things. They must be furious with me.”

“They are,” Kyle said bluntly. “Fred and George have sworn to give you a good hiding. And at Christmas, Charlie was ready to storm the Ministry and teach you a lesson himself—Ginny and Mrs. Weasley barely managed to stop him.”

“That’s fair,” Percy muttered, his voice filled with remorse. “I deserve it.”

Just then, the other lifts arrived, and a crowd of people spilled into the foyer, filling the previously quiet space with chatter and activity.

Professor McGonagall waved again, signaling for the students to gather.

“Look, Percy,” Kyle said, “there’s nothing we can do to help you. If you’re serious about apologizing, go to Mr. Weasley. He’d never turn you away, no matter what’s happened.”

With that, Kyle and Cedric walked over to join the others.

Once everyone was accounted for, Professor McGonagall led the group to the fireplaces, and they returned to Hogwarts.