Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 723: The Second Double Agent?

By the time Kyle returned to Hogsmeade, night had fallen. The shop windows along the street glowed with a mix of bright and dim lights, casting a serene and peaceful atmosphere over the village.

Kyle wasn’t in a rush to return to school. Since he was already here, he decided to stop by The Three Broomsticks to pick up some drinks unavailable at Hogwarts. He ordered a large bucket of Butterbeer, a bottle of Pumpkin Fizz, and two bottles of Cherry Soda—Kanna’s favorite.

After placing his order, Kyle waited nearby. Despite it not being a visiting day, The Three Broomsticks was bustling with patrons. The bar was packed, and not a single seat was vacant.

Nearby, two wizards were drinking and lamenting the current state of affairs. From their conversation, it was clear they had recently started avoiding the Leaky Cauldron, opting instead for The Three Broomsticks, which was closer to Hogwarts. It seemed widely believed that Voldemort and the Death Eaters would not dare approach anywhere near Dumbledore.

So far, this seemed to hold true. Kyle hadn’t heard of anyone being harmed or disappearing in Hogsmeade, though he couldn’t rule out the possibility that Death Eaters might one day come here, perhaps for a drink and a laugh.

“Here’s what you asked for...”

Soon Madam Rosmerta returned with his order. The wizards at the bar followed her movements with their eyes, some chuckling and raising their glasses in her direction.

This was one of the reasons many preferred The Three Broomsticks: the charming Madam Rosmerta was far more appealing to look at than the old, hunchbacked Tom from the Leaky Cauldron. It often led to patrons staying for an extra drink—or two.

“Rosmerta, another pint of mead!” someone called out. “Hurry up!”

“Just a moment!” Madam Rosmerta replied impatiently before turning her attention to Kyle.

“Here’s what you asked for,” she said, handing him several wrapped bottles. “I just hope Hogwarts’s open day comes soon, so I don’t have to deal with these boring people.”

“They’re all guests...” Kyle said with a smile, handing over a few Galleons.

“Ha, they’re just a bunch of cowards,” Madam Rosmerta sneered, lowering her voice. “Afraid to face the Death Eaters, they come here to escape. With all the chaos at the Ministry of Magic, no truly powerful wizard would be drinking here at a time like this.”

She quickly added, “Of course, I’m not talking about you. Running away from Hogwarts at a time like this might take a kind of courage, though I wouldn’t encourage such behavior.”

“You mentioned the Ministry of Magic earlier. Has something happened?” Kyle asked, ignoring her last comment.

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Madam Rosmerta said, clearly reluctant to elaborate. “By then, you’ll be glad you stayed at Hogwarts, which is probably the safest place right now. With Dumbledore there, no Death Eater would dare to break in.”

“Alright,” she said, raising her voice, “hurry back before it gets too dark.”

With that, she pulled out a bottle of mead and tossed it casually toward a group of arguing wizards. The bottle wobbled in midair before landing securely in one wizard’s hand.

“Hey, that’s the drink I ordered!”

“I got it first, you can have another one...”

The argument in the bar grew louder, but Kyle was already outside, walking along the quiet streets of Hogsmeade. He followed the familiar path back to school, passing through the gate adorned with the carved warthog and along the grounds by the Black Lake until he reached the front of Hogwarts Castle.

It was nearly dinnertime, and a few younger students, laughing and playing, were hurrying toward the castle.

Filch stood at the doorway as usual, holding his odd-looking device designed to detect dark magic. Whenever a student carrying something dangerous passed by, the device would emit a shrill alarm.

“Where have you been, and why are you so late!” Filch barked when Kyle approached.

But instead of jabbing Kyle with the device, as he did with the others, he merely gave him a cursory once-over.

Seventh-year students, like Kyle, often received different treatment from Filch. He knew better than to provoke those about to graduate—students who respected neither school rules nor authority and had little to lose. Filch’s wariness stemmed from past experiences, and he had no desire for a repeat.

“Ah, I went to Hagrid,” Kyle replied calmly.

“Hagrid...” Filch snorted dismissively.

It was no secret that Filch thought poorly of Hagrid, whom he considered an oaf. The feeling was mutual, with Hagrid often calling Filch an old fool.

“Are you done?” Kyle asked, sounding slightly impatient. “I’d like to get to dinner.”

Filch glanced at his device, which remained silent. “Go ahead, but I’ll be checking with Hagrid. If I find out you’re lying... you’ll be in detention.”

“Suit yourself,” Kyle replied with a shrug, confident that Hagrid would vouch for him even if they hadn’t spoken.

Kyle first returned to the common room, where he retrieved an old notebook from the drawer of a desk. It was coated in a thin layer of dust, but a simple cleaning spell quickly restored it.

By the time he entered the Great Hall, dinner was already underway. The room was bustling with conversation, and no one seemed to notice his arrival.

Kyle glanced toward the Instructor’s table and, unsurprisingly, saw that Dumbledore wasn’t there.

“Where have you been?” Kanna asked as Kyle sat down. “Hermione said you met Dumbledore’s Phoenix.”

“That spread fast,” Kyle said, biting into a piece of jam pie. “I thought they’d keep it a secret.”

“Hermione only told me,” Kanna replied. “She seemed curious about what Dumbledore wanted with you.”

“It was Madam Bones from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Kyle said quietly. “She was attacked by Death Eaters. Dumbledore needed the Basilisk’s petrifying ability to stabilize her injuries.”

“Bones...” Kanna paused, thinking. “Does Susan know?”

“I don’t think so,” Kyle said. “But she’ll find out tomorrow.”

Susan Bones, a sixth-year Hufflepuff, was Amelia Bones’s niece. Kyle remembered how she had stayed quiet and withdrawn when Slughorn had invited her to join the Slug Club on the train to school.

Kanna sighed. “First Hannah, now Susan... I wonder if she’ll leave Hogwarts too.”

Hannah had been picked up by her family a few days earlier and hadn’t returned.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” Kyle reassured her, handing her a bottle of cherry soda. “Here, this is for you.”

“You went to The Three Broomsticks?”

“Yes, I stopped by on my way back.”

...

Half an hour later, dinner ended, and students began making their way back to their respective common rooms.

At the entrance to the Great Hall, Kyle spotted Harry and Hermione, who were just about to head upstairs.

“You’re back already?” Harry said, surprised to see Kyle. Both he and Hermione had assumed something significant must have happened in the Order of the Phoenix, as Kyle wasn’t expected to return until the next day.

“I came back as soon as I was done,” Kyle replied, keeping his explanation brief as he handed over the notebook.

“Are these the Potions notes you mentioned?”

“Yes,” Kyle confirmed. “You can take a look if you like. I think they’re quite useful.”

Harry flipped through the notes curiously, and Hermione leaned over to read as well.

“Look, it’s Draught of Living Death, the first potion we learned in class,” Harry said, pointing to the detailed instructions. “This is so thorough... I wish I’d known about it earlier.”

“Wait, Harry, something’s off with these notes,” Hermione said suddenly, grabbing Harry’s hand as he was about to turn the page.

“Look here...” She pointed to a line of text. “‘Squeeze the juice from the Sopophorous bean using the side of a silver knife0’ I remember the book saying to slice it.”

“Yeah, right?” Harry blinked, unsure. He didn’t remember whether the book instructed to slice or squeeze, but since Hermione said so, she was probably correct. After all, Hermione had memorized the textbook.

Memorizing textbooks was second nature to Hermione—every year, she absorbed the new material by heart before classes even started, much to Harry and Ron’s resignation.

“And here...” Hermione pointed to another section.

“The textbook says to stir counterclockwise, but this says to stir counterclockwise seven times, then clockwise once.”

“And this—roots should be cut into evenly sized pieces, not strips, and there’s no mention of baking them in advance...”

Hermione frowned as she read further. The more she examined the notes, the more they seemed completely wrong and inconsistent with the textbook. It was as if someone had hastily jotted them down while half-asleep in class.

If Kyle hadn’t brought them, Hermione wouldn’t have spared them a second glance.

“As I said before,” Kyle interjected, waving his hand dismissively, “these notes differ from the textbook. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“And I can guarantee that following the steps in these notes will work perfectly fine—maybe even better.”

“But that’s not what the book says,” Hermione countered firmly.

“Advanced Potion-Making was last revised thirty years ago,” Kyle replied, looking directly at her. “You can’t expect everyone to stick rigidly to instructions that old. Innovation is necessary.”

“If you don’t believe me, ask Professor Slughorn. I’m sure he doesn’t follow the textbook to the letter when brewing potions.”

“Yes, Hermione,” Harry added in a whisper. “Remember when you pointed out those two mistakes in Professor Slughorn’s lecture? He’s a master potion maker—do you really think he got the stirring instructions wrong?”

“But he gave me extra credit,” Hermione protested. “You know, a whole ten points.”

“Ah, true,” Harry said thoughtfully before adding hesitantly, “Do you think it’s possible he just... well, rewarded you for being diligent with your homework?”

Hermione turned her head and shot Harry a sharp glare. He immediately went silent, realizing he still needed her help to get his homework done on time and wisely choosing not to push his luck.

Kyle, however, had no such concerns.

“Hermione, I’m sure the content of the book is correct, but it’s just a reference,” Kyle said. “Memorizing what’s in the book may earn you an ‘O’ on the exam, but if you want to truly excel, you have to understand it for yourself.”

Hermione stayed silent, her expression thoughtful.

“Look here—the method for handling the roots,” Kyle pointed out a section in his notes. “Kanna discovered that.”

“The advantage of this method is that it saves about ten minutes. Baking the roots beforehand makes them react more readily with the potion, and it’s also more stable, reducing the chance of error. At least my roommate, Mikel, hasn’t messed up this step since adopting this technique.”

“And this discovery significantly boosted Kanna’s score on the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers exam.”

Hermione lowered her head, lost in thought.

Kyle understood. This was simply her personality, ingrained over more than a decade—it wasn’t something that could be changed with a few words. He decided not to push the issue further.

“Alright, I’ve lent you my notes. Whether you choose to use them or not is entirely up to you,” Kyle said before turning to leave.

Harry watched Hermione out of the corner of his eye, then quietly pocketed the notes. His gut told him these would come in handy. He could barely follow the textbook as it was, so having another approach was worth a try.

Kyle, meanwhile, returned to the common room and quickly forgot about the matter. He had only given the notes to Harry out of habit—he already knew everything in them, so they served no purpose for him anymore.

In the common room, Susan Bones sat in an armchair, silently crying. She had likely received a letter from home.

However, the fact that she remained in the common room suggested the Bones family had no intention of pulling her out of Hogwarts.

That made sense. Amelia Bones had nearly been killed inside the Ministry of Magic, under the protection of numerous Aurors. Anywhere else would be far less safe. Hogwarts was the most secure place now.

Besides Dumbledore, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were renowned wizards in their own right, capable of defending the school even if more Death Eaters attacked.

More and more families were seeking the safety of Hogwarts. The bustling activity in Hogsmeade was evidence of this, and it was likely only the beginning. Once The Daily Prophet reported the attack on Amelia Bones, the trend would intensify.

Students previously withdrawn from Hogwarts might soon return—provided their parents weren’t completely reckless.

Of course, there were exceptions. Some families chose to leave the country entirely, like sixth-year student Eloise Midgen. Her father had pulled her out of school just days earlier, and the entire family moved to France the same evening. She was likely enrolled at Beauxbatons by now.

To be honest, it wasn’t a bad decision. At least they were safe.

Still, most families weren’t willing to leave, even under such dire circumstances.

At this moment, Kanna and a few other girls were sitting next to Susan, doing their best to comfort her.

Kyle hesitated, watching them. He considered saying something but held back. Instead, his thoughts drifted back to Amelia Bones and a comment Dumbledore had made:

He had said he received word that the Death Eaters were targeting the Ministry of Magic, prompting him to rush there.

Kyle hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but now it struck him—who could have passed that information to Dumbledore?

The only undercover agent Kyle knew of within the Order of the Phoenix, working against the Death Eaters, was Snape.

But Snape had been at Hogwarts recently, teaching classes. He couldn’t have known about Voldemort’s plans, and Voldemort certainly wouldn’t have contacted him directly to share such crucial information.

That left only one possibility: there was a second undercover agent.

And whoever it was, they had to hold a position of significance to gain access to a major plan targeting the Ministry.

But who could it be?

...Malfoy?

It was possible but unlikely.

Malfoy was adept at keeping his head down. Even if he secretly harbored thoughts of betraying Voldemort, he wouldn’t risk taking action—not yet. Malfoy, like many opportunists, would wait until the outcome of the war was certain before considering a change of allegiance.

If not Malfoy, then who?

Kyle mentally sifted through the names of the Death Eaters but found no plausible candidates.

It certainly couldn’t have been Bellatrix.

Kyle glanced around the common room, his eyes landing on an armchair.

If it turned out Bellatrix had passed on the information, Kyle thought dryly, I’ll eat that armchair dipped in marmalade.