Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 721: Professor Babbling’s Warning

It had been over a week since Dumbledore last left the Headmasterʼs Office. During that time, he returned briefly to give Harry a lesson before disappearing again.

As for the lessonʼs content, Kyle wasn’t certain, though he could probably guess. It was likely an open and honest conversation with Harry. Perhaps it was about the Order of the Phoenix or the Horcruxes. After all, when Harry previously failed to learn Occlumency, much had been kept from him, and he was still upset about it.

This lesson seemed to focus on Harry letting go of his worries. How much progress he made would depend on what Dumbledore wanted him to know.

But that had little to do with Kyle.

On Wednesday afternoon, after the Ancient Runes class ended, Kyle approached Professor Babbling with a parchment full of rune formulas. She was clearly about to make a quick escape.

Yes... escape.

Since the first class of the year, Professor Babbling had been reluctant to see Kyle outside class. It wasn’t that she feared being stumped—her knowledge of Ancient Runes was likely superior even to Dumbledore’s, and Kyle’s questions posed no real challenge. She simply didn’t want to work overtime. Usually, she left immediately after class, never lingering a moment longer than necessary.

However, Kyle had positioned himself strategically near the door, and with Apparition banned within the castle, her plan for a timely escape was doomed the moment she stepped outside.

When Professor Babbling glanced at the parchment Kyle handed her, her expression immediately soured.

“Primitive runes...” she muttered almost instinctively. “Why are you looking at such useless things? Itʼs a waste of time.”

“Huh?” Kyle blinked, caught off guard. He had anticipated many possible reactions but had not expected Professor Babbling to dismiss his interest so outright. It didn’t even sound like she was being rude—she genuinely believed it was a waste of time.

“That’s right,” Professor Babbling elaborated. “In the view of medieval scholars, led by Rowena Ravenclaw, the original magical runes had significant flaws. I wouldn’t recommend spending your time on them.”

“What do you mean?” Kyle asked, still confused.

“It’s like this...” Professor Babbling, uncharacteristically patient, explained, “The so-called Ancient Runes are, essentially, a form of magical writing that early witches and wizards devised themselves. However, due to the limitations of their era, these writings were neither unified nor well-organized. They were chaotic. A single misinterpretation could cause the runes to collapse entirely.”

“For this reason, the great Rowena Ravenclaw gathered the scholars of her time to standardize and refine these original runes, compiling them into a cohesive system—what we now study today.”

As she finished, Professor Babbling gave Kyle a pointed look. “I remember telling a student this over fifty years ago, and I’ll tell you the same thing now.”

“There is always a reason something is abandoned. Don’t chase after so-called power too recklessly. While you may revel in the thrill of invincibility, you risk unleashing something far more dangerous, dragging yourself into the abyss of magic.”

Meeting Professor Babbling’s steady, light grey gaze, Kyle instinctively took a step back, scratching his head awkwardly.

“Sorry, Professor, I was inspired to learn this because I read something written in the original magic runes,” Kyle explained.

“Oh?” Professor Babbling raised an eyebrow. “A primitive document from at least 1,300 years ago is rare... But there’s no need to learn it intentionally.”

She reached out and grabbed something seemingly from nowhere, and a thick book materialized in her hand. Without hesitation, she tossed the book at Kyle.

“This is a comparison table of primitive runes. Just refer to it if you must—there’s no need to waste time learning it in depth.”

“And let me make myself clear: even if you insist, I won’t waste my time teaching you. No one will, not even Dumbledore!”

Her patience was clearly wearing thin. By the time Kyle had opened the book to glance at its contents, Professor Babbling had already turned and left the classroom without a backward glance.

When Kyle realized what had happened and rushed to catch up, the corridor was empty.

He sighed. Professor Babbling didn’t have an office—or, more accurately, she never used it. Unless it was time for the next class, she was impossible to track down. And she never delayed her lessons.

Standing alone in the deserted corridor, Kyle mulled over her earlier words. Who had been the student she warned fifty years ago? Tom Riddle?

The timeline fit, and more importantly, Riddle’s deep knowledge of runes was something Kyle knew firsthand.

But with Professor Babbling unwilling to elaborate, there was little he could do to confirm his theory.

Glancing at the book in his hands, Kyle shrugged and stuffed it into his suitcase. At least the trip wasn’t a total loss. He had learned that there was no need to invest heavily in studying the primitive runes, which, despite their allure, were obsolete. That realization would save him a considerable amount of time.

As Kyle departed, Professor Babbling reappeared at the classroom door, her earlier disappearance a mere illusion. She gazed thoughtfully in the direction Kyle had gone, her usually composed expression softening with curiosity.

She had never expected another student to take an interest in original runes during their time at school. The idea intrigued her, and she wondered if Kyle would make the same choices as the other student.

Of course, whatever path Kyle chose, she wouldn’t interfere. She would remain a silent observer, just as she had fifty years ago.

...

On the other side, Kyle arrived at the Charms class, running, but even so, he was still ten minutes late.

“Sorry, Professor Flitwick, I stopped by Professor Babblingʼs office to ask her some questions and lost track of time,” Kyle explained, slightly out of breath as he stood in the doorway.

“Next time, come on time—or at least avoid disrupting the class,” Professor Flitwick replied, though his tone was firm. “One point from Hufflepuff. Now, come in.”

Kyle nodded apologetically and entered the classroom, taking his seat as quietly as possible.

“Now, where were we...” Professor Flitwick clapped his hands to recapture the class’s attention. “Ah, yes—wandless magic.”

He continued, “This is an important skill that all wizards should strive to master. Now, can anyone tell me the advantage of wandless magic?”

”It allows a wizard to avoid being completely defenseless after losing their wand,” said Cho, raising her hand.

“Exactly, that’s correct. Five points to Ravenclaw,” Professor Flitwick said with a smile. “For a wizard, there’s nothing more terrifying than losing their wand.”

“In such a moment, wandless magic becomes a crucial fallback. I remember during the duel that made me Champion of the Duelling Tournament, my opponent managed to disarm me due to a careless mistake on my part.”

“He thought he had secured his victory and began celebrating prematurely. However, he lost the match when I struck him with a wandless Stunning Spell.”

Professor Flitwick’s face lit up with a nostalgic smile. “So you see, wandless magic is not just a useful skill—it is often a wizard’s last line of defense.”

...

“By the way, how many times did Professor Flitwick win the Dueling Competition?” Mikel asked in a low voice from his seat. “Why do I remember him saying in a previous Charms class that he used a Sliding Charm to win?”

“As far as I know, Professor Flitwick has won the Dueling Competition three times,” Kyle replied after a moment of thought. “If he hadn’t come to Hogwarts afterward, that number might have been even higher.”

“Three-time champion...” Mikel muttered, smacking his lips. “Yeah, that’s impressive.”

“Let’s start with the simplest Levitation Charm,” Professor Flitwick announced at the front of the room, moving on to the day’s lesson. “Concentration is essential. Keep your eyes on your feather at all times, and at the same time, imagine you are holding a wand. Now, everyone, start chanting the spell...”

“Wingardium Leviosa!” A flurry of chanting filled the classroom.

The feathers on the desks fluttered and lifted into the air, though none behaved quite as intended. Ryan’s feather swayed erratically from side to side, and Mikel’s spun wildly in place like a top. Even Kanna’s feather, though it floated momentarily, quivered and occasionally dropped before regaining height.

The classroom felt like it had reverted to first year, with everyone struggling to make their feathers levitate properly. The scene was chaotic yet oddly nostalgic.

Despite this, Professor Flitwick appeared pleased. He had expected only half the class to succeed in making their feathers float, so this level of progress exceeded his expectations.

“Not bad, not bad,” he said enthusiastically, clapping his hands. “Concentrate! Imagine your fingers as wands—you can do it!”

With his encouragement, several students began to improve, and more feathers stabilized in midair. The accomplishment of performing magic without a wand filled the room with an indescribable sense of pride.

Ryan, in particular, was thrilled by his success. Once his feather was floating steadily, he quickly grew bored and turned his attention to a more ambitious target: The Standard Book of Spells: Level 7 resting on the table.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” Ryan declared, pointing at the heavy textbook with his finger.

The book trembled violently for a moment before flying straight at Ryan’s head.

“Pop!”

A loud thud echoed through the room as the book collided with Ryan’s forehead, knocking him unconscious and leaving a sizable bump.

“I told you to stick to your feathers!” Professor Flitwick scolded sharply. “Someone take him to the Hospital Wing!”

Mikel immediately abandoned his spinning feather and volunteered to help, eager to avoid further attempts at wandless magic, which required precise control he simply didn’t possess.

Meanwhile, Kanna turned to Kyle as she continued guiding her feather. “How did your question go? Did Professor Babbling agree to teach you?”

“No,” Kyle replied, twirling his fingers as his feather followed their movement. “She said it was a waste of time.”

“What do you think?” Kanna asked. “Maybe you could ask Professor McGonagall or Dumbledore. They might be willing to teach you.”

“Forget it,” Kyle said after a moment’s thought, shaking his head. “Actually, I think Professor Babbling is right.”

After class, Kyle decided to visit Ryan in the Hospital Wing. On his way there, he ran into Hermione and Harry. From the direction they were heading, it seemed they were also on their way to the Hospital Wing—the only place they could possibly be going.

...

“Did someone from Gryffindor get hurt too?” Kyle asked.

“Ron,” Harry sighed. “He got hit in the head with a Bludger during a Quidditch training match.”

“…Okay,” Kyle replied, a bit speechless. Fred and George had managed to make Bludgers behave more obediently than Puffskeins by their third year, and yet Ron still managed to get hit in his sixth year. Then again, it could be a matter of position—after all, as Keeper, Ron typically didn’t have to deal with Bludgers.

“Have you already started training?” Kyle asked, changing the subject.

“It’s a competitive sport,” Harry explained. “There are five of us trying out for Keeper. Ron was a bit nervous, so he wanted to practice in his spare time. If I’d known this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have lent him all the Quidditch itens.”

“By the way, what were you doing in the Hospital Wing?” Harry asked.

“Visiting my roommate,” Kyle replied. “He had a mishap in class and bumped his head.”

“Speaking of which,” Harry added, a touch nervously, “I almost got hit on the head with a cauldron the other day in Potions class.”

“What happened?” Kyle asked curiously. “Neville’s grades aren’t good enough to be in advanced classes, are they?”

“It was me,” Harry admitted, his cheeks tinged red. “I learned the hard way that a cauldron can explode if you add the ingredients too late.”

“Although Professor Slughorn said it was just carelessness, I think he was a bit disappointed.”

“Disappointed because of your Potions grades?” Kyle asked.

“Yes,” Harry said with a nod. “He expects me to be a Potions genius like my mum, but I can’t even cut a Sopophorous bean properly.”

“Wait…” Kyle said, realizing something. “In Potions class, did Professor Slughorn award the Felix Felicis?”

“Yes, and Hermione got it,” Harry said, his mood brightening slightly. “You know, in sixth year, no one’s more brilliant than Hermione.”

“Oh, I was just lucky,” Hermione interjected modestly, though she was clearly pleased. The truth was, after winning the Felix Felicis, she had been so excited she couldn’t sleep for several nights.

“What about you? Did you get the prize?” Harry asked Kyle.

“No,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “It was Kanna.”

Harry wasn’t surprised. He knew that Kanna had taken a vacation earlier to sit for the exam for the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. It was the most prestigious magical potion society in the wizarding world, and Harry couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. While others were mastering potion-making at a professional level, he was struggling to follow basic instructions.

“Tell you what,” Kyle offered suddenly, “if you don’t mind, I can lend you my notes from last year. They’ve got some tips on brewing potions that might help.”

“Really?” Harry’s eyes lit up.

“It’s just a set of notes,” Kyle said with a smile. “I’ll look for them later and bring them to you by dinner.”

“Thank you so much,” Harry said earnestly. “To be honest, after Snape left, I’ve found Potions kind of interesting, but my results are still terrible.”

“Can I see them too?” Hermione asked.

“Of course,” Kyle replied. “You can copy them with the Doubling Charm. But just so you know, some of the content might differ from the textbook.”

“Different from the textbook?” Hermione asked, frowning slightly.

“They’re tips from a Master Potioneer,” Kyle explained. “I can promise they’re useful. The thing is, Advanced Potion-Making hasn’t been updated in decades, so a lot of the content is outdated.”

Hermione hesitated but ultimately decided to give the notes a try. Though she preferred textbooks, Kyle’s recommendation made her curious.

The group continued chatting as they made their way to the Hospital Wing. They were nearly there when Hermione suddenly asked, “Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend? The announcement said the first visit is next week.”

“I don’t know yet,” Kyle replied thoughtfully. “If nothing else comes up, I’ll probably go…”

Before he could finish, a ball of fire appeared in front of them, and Fawkes materialized, his soft chirping directed at Kyle.

“Sorry, Harry, Hermione,” Kyle said, his tone growing serious. “Can you give Ryan my regards? Something’s come up, and I won’t be able to visit the Hospital Wing.”

“Ah, no problem,” Harry said.

“You—”

Before Hermione could finish her sentence, Fawkes landed on Kyle’s shoulder. In the next instant, both had vanished, leaving an empty corridor.

“Was that… a Phoenix?” Hermione asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes, Professor Dumbledore’s Phoenix,” Harry replied. “I saw it when I went to the Headmaster’s Office earlier.”

“So Professor Dumbledore is looking for Kyle?” Hermione speculated. “What do you think it could be about?”

“I’m not sure,” Harry said. “But it might be related to the Order of the Phoenix. The other day, during my lesson, Professor Dumbledore told me that Kyle’s been involved in a lot of Order missions. He even said that if he’s unavailable, I should go to Kyle for help.”

Hermione glanced thoughtfully in the direction Fawkes had disappeared. “It seems Professor Dumbledore trusts him a great deal.”

“Obviously,” Harry agreed.