Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 735: A Reliable Assistant, Fawkes

For Dumbledore, the news Kyle brought was quite a surprise.

The Death Eaters were truly terrifying when they lurked in the shadows, but far less so when exposed to the light of day. The Vanishing Cabinets could allow them to bypass the castleʼs magical defenses, and if the defenders were unaware, the Death Eaters could indeed use this method to take the initiative and catch them off guard.

But now that they knew, the Vanishing Cabinets—immovable as they were—had become the Death Eatersʼ greatest vulnerability.

Dumbledore was quite confident that he could capture every Death Eater who entered Hogwarts this way.

What concerned him now was how to keep Draco Malfoy out of the matter, ensuring Voldemort wouldn’t take revenge on his family.

If the Death Eaters truly intended to attack Hogwarts, there would undoubtedly be a large force involved. And if that force was wiped out, Voldemort would be furious. By then, the Malfoy family—who had proposed this method—would be doomed.

Dumbledore wanted to save them.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were of little concern to him, but Draco was different. He was a student at Hogwarts. And as headmaster, Dumbledore bore the responsibility of protecting every student—even those trying to kill him.

But he didn’t share this thought with Kyle. Not because he didn’t trust him—on the contrary, he was certain that if he asked, Kyle wouldn’t refuse. But protecting students was his responsibility as headmaster, not Kyle’s. Besides, whether this plan would even work remained uncertain.

Dumbledore shook his head, pushing the thought aside.

“Kyle, the most important question right now is… do you know where he’s hiding the Vanishing Cabinet?” he asked.

If they wanted to use the cabinet to ambush the Death Eaters, they first needed to locate it.

Hogwarts was vast, filled with countless hidden spaces—the Chamber of Secrets, the Room of Requirement, and others even Dumbledore, as headmaster, might not know about. If Malfoy had found a similar room, it could be impossible to locate at first, and then no amount of planning would help.

“Of course,” Kyle said. “I’ve already prepared for that.”

He would never make such a simple mistake.

“When I returned the Vanishing Cabinet, I made a small modification—added a special set of runes.”

As he spoke, Kyle took out a map of Hogwarts and spread it across the table.

After scanning it briefly, he pointed to the location of the Slytherin common room.

“Here, isn’t it? Right here.”

On the map, an ink-made footprint stood out, labeled Vanishing Cabinet.

If Fred and George had been present, they would have recognized the symbol instantly—one unique to the Marauder’s Map. And indeed, Kyle had based this effect on that very enchantment. The only difference was that his map wasn’t as densely populated with names—there was only one, making its movements easy to track at a glance.

“Oh?” Dumbledore picked up the map and examined it, immediately understanding. “This is name-tracking magic?”

“That’s right.” Kyle nodded. “A very simple technique—just a matter of switching the target from wizard to object in the runes. But it’s incredibly useful.”

As he spoke, Kyle glanced at the map again.

The Vanishing Cabinet was still in the Slytherin common room. Perhaps Malfoy wasn’t ready yet, or perhaps the other cabinet hadn’t been fully repaired. Either way, Malfoy didn’t seem prepared to act immediately.

After all, the common room was too crowded. And after the events of previous years, additional portraits had been placed at the entrances of every house’s common room. There was no way Malfoy would use such a public space as his point of attack. He would definitely move the cabinet to a more concealed location.

That was good—it meant they had more time to prepare.

Dumbledore took out his wand and waved it. Instantly, the map split into two identical copies. Thanks to his powerful magic, both the map and the enchantment upon it were perfectly preserved.

He returned the original to Kyle and kept the duplicate for himself.

”Professor, do you need a Reminder Charm?” Kyle thought for a moment before suggesting, ”An alarm or something that goes off whenever the Vanishing Cabinetʼs location changes would be useful, so I don’t have to keep checking it manually.”

”No need for that,” Dumbledore replied. With a wave of his hand, the map on the table floated to a shelf behind him, positioned just within view of the portraits on the wall.

”They will keep an eye on it for me,” he said with a smile. ”I have quite a lot to do these days, and I can’t always carry the map with me. And if it suddenly starts making noise to alert me, it could be quite a nuisance at inconvenient moments.”

”That’s true,” Kyle nodded. ”After all, a certain headmaster is idle anyway. Giving him something to do will at least keep him from getting beaten up every day—so that’s good…”

”What do you mean?” Phineas Nigellus Black demanded indignantly. ”That’s extremely rude! How can you speak that way about Dippet?”

”No, no, you’ve misunderstood, Headmaster Black. That’s not what I meant,” Kyle said dismissively, not even looking up. He didn’t bother to explain—because there was no need.

”Are you really that dense, or just pretending?” Headmistress Dippet gave Phineas a sidelong glance. ”Do you have any idea who the boy is actually talking about?”

”Who else but you?” Phineas scoffed. ”It can’t be Spore… though she does have a lot of free time…”

”What did you say?”

The two witches in the portraits stormed toward Phineas, and without hesitation, launched into a flurry of punches and kicks.

Kyle noted that the two witches looked remarkably similar, though one appeared middle-aged while the other seemed much younger. He had never seen her before.

Before he could give it much thought, agonized screams filled the headmaster’s office.

Dumbledore, unfazed by the commotion, simply waved his wand. The screams fell silent.

Within the portrait, Phineas was still being soundly beaten—only now, the sound was mercifully muted.

”Those two are both Phyllida Spore,” Dumbledore explained. ”Just portraits from different times in her life.”

”How can one person have two portraits in the headmaster’s office?” Kyle asked, intrigued.

”In theory, it’s possible.”

Before Kyle could press for details, Dumbledore smoothly redirected the conversation.

”Alright, let’s return to the matter at hand. I may need to leave Hogwarts for a while, and I’d like you to keep an eye on Draco Malfoy.”

”I’m very busy, Professor,” Kyle replied promptly. ”I’m in my seventh year now, and the N.E.W.T. exams are in six months. If I want a good job after graduation, I need to focus on getting the necessary qualifications. You’d be better off finding someone else for this.”

Without hesitation, Kyle added, ”I think Professor Snape would be a better choice. He’s the Head of Slytherin and has plenty of time to watch Malfoy. Or Harry, for that matter.”

”Harry?” Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. ”I recall their relationship isn’t exactly harmonious.”

”That’s why he’s the right choice,” Kyle said matter-of-factly. ”After six years as rivals, no one knows Malfoy better than Harry does. If anything seems off, Harry will be the first to notice.”

”But he’s not the best candidate,” Dumbledore countered with a shake of his head. ”Harry’s temperament is a bit impulsive. When it comes to certain… delicate situations, he may be prone to overlooking key details.”

”And Kyle, I think you’ve misunderstood me,” he continued. ”I’m not asking you to keep Malfoy under constant surveillance. I simply need you to remain vigilant—make sure no more Dark artifacts find their way into Hogwarts.”

”As you know, Katie Bell is still at St. Mungo’s. We can’t afford to send another student there.”

”Alright, I’ll do my best,” Kyle agreed.

If that was all, it wasn’t much of an issue. Unlike Hogsmeade, sneaking Dark objects into Hogwarts wasn’t easy. Even with Dumbledore gone, the other professors were still present. Both Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were seasoned wizards; causing real trouble under their watchful eyes wouldn’t be easy. Malfoy wasn’t that reckless.

At most, Kyle would be playing a supporting role.

Seeing him agree, Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction.

“Oh, is it that late already?” Dumbledore glanced out the window at the darkening sky. “You must be hungry too. I heard the kitchen is making pork cutlets tonight. Or, if you prefer, you could come with me to 12 Grimmauld Place—Molly would be delighted to see you.”

“Forget it, I’ll just go to the Great Hall,” Kyle said, standing up.

“I thought so…” Dumbledore’s expression turned teasing as he looked at Kyle, his face showing a knowing glint. “12 Grimmauld Place is just a bunch of us boring adults now—you’d definitely rather stay at school, wouldn’t you?”

Kyle didn’t respond, merely standing and casting a seemingly casual glance at the silver tea canister on the table.

Dumbledore’s sharp senses immediately picked up on the shift in Kyle’s demeanor. He grew wary, reaching out to secure the canister—

But at that moment, Kyle’s eyes widened in apparent shock as he looked past Dumbledore, straight at the window.

“Professor McGonagall? What are you doing outside the window on a broom? Oh… be careful!”

Instinctively, Dumbledore turned his head to look.

A split second later, he felt something—just the faintest breeze brushing past his face, stirring a few strands of his beard.

Strange. The window was closed. How could there be a draft?

The thought barely had time to form before realization struck. His heart clenched.

Suppressing his instincts with practiced self-control, Dumbledore turned back swiftly—

Only to find Kyle already holding the silver tea canister that had moments ago been on the table.

He should have known. How could he have believed that McGonagall would be hovering outside the Headmaster’s office window in the middle of the night? It was a laughably transparent distraction.

And yet… he had fallen for it.

Dumbledore cursed his momentary lapse, but there was no time for regret—he had to act fast.

His mind raced through possible solutions—

But Kyle didn’t give him the chance.

As if he had rehearsed this maneuver a thousand times, Kyle bolted for the door the instant the canister was in his hands. His movements were seamless, fluid, without hesitation.

By the time Dumbledore stood up, Kyle was already there—just a step away from escape.

Dumbledore’s last hope was Fawkes. His gaze flicked toward the phoenix, silently willing it to intervene.

Fawkes understood.

The bird spread its wings and swooped down from its perch—

And instead of stopping Kyle, it helped him open the door.

“Thanks, Fawkes! I’ll buy you some mandrake later—your pick!”

Kyle’s voice echoed cheerfully from the corridor.

Fawkes let out a contented trill, flapping its wings happily, never once glancing at Dumbledore as it glided after Kyle.

In the now eerily silent office, Dumbledore remained seated. Alone.

A quiet crack broke the stillness—something fragile giving way under the weight of inevitability.

…

”Here, try this.”

In the Great Hall, Kyle handed Kanna a cup of tea with milk and sugar.

Kanna took a sip, and her eyes immediately lit up.

”What do you think?”

”Delicious!” Kanna nodded eagerly and took another big sip.

”Of course it is. It’s the headmaster’s treasure,” Kyle said, casually waving a silver tea canister in his hand.

The canister itself was a remarkable magical item—its function was similar to the enchanted box Nicolas had given him earlier. More importantly, its material was incredibly rare: the same secret pure silver that Goblins used to forge the legendary Gryffindor dueling sword.

Kyle estimated that crafting a container of this size would require at least 10,000 silver Sickles’ worth of repeated smelting and refinement. It was an item of considerable value.

”Did the headmaster give this to you?” Kanna asked, taking another sip. She was always amazed by how Kyle managed to acquire such rare and valuable things from Dumbledore.

”No, he wouldn’t do that,” Kyle shook his head, speaking as if it were the most natural thing in the world. ”I took it.”

”What? You stole it?” Kanna froze, her hand pausing mid-air as she stared at Kyle in disbelief.

”Yes, I stole it,” Kyle admitted casually. ”But don’t worry, go ahead and drink. It’s fine. I helped him out of a big problem—he had to show his gratitude somehow.”

He took a sip of tea himself before adding, ”Besides, this is basically his tacit approval.”

Kyle’s reasoning wasn’t unfounded.

The distance from the eighth floor to the Great Hall wasn’t exactly short. If Dumbledore had truly wanted to, he could have caught up to him in an instant.

But he hadn’t.

In fact, he hadn’t even stepped out of the Headmaster’s Office. If he’d really intended to retrieve the canister, it would have been back in his possession long ago.

…

After receiving Kyle’s assurance, Kanna felt much more at ease. Still, as she looked down at the cup in her hands, she found it hard to believe.

Kyle was probably the first person bold enough to blatantly steal from Headmaster Dumbledore—and even flaunt it.

She shook her head, amazed.

Time quickly moved into December, and before they knew it, snowflakes were already drifting down outside.

Just as Kyle had expected, Dumbledore never came to reclaim his tea canister. And, as it turned out, Kyle never saw him at Hogwarts either.

Perhaps, as Dumbledore had mentioned in the Headmaster’s Office, he really did have a lot to do.

Kyle had also been keeping an eye on Draco Malfoy—sometimes deliberately, sometimes just in passing.

But Malfoy’s behavior was no different from usual.

Every day, he attended classes, and every day, he found some way to antagonize Harry—as if the day wasn’t complete until they’d had at least one argument.

Aside from Malfoy, however, Kyle had another problem to deal with—Slughorn.

Somehow, the professor had learned that the Ministry of Magic had canceled the Floo Network between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. And with that, Kyle’s old excuse for skipping dinner parties was no longer valid.

Invitations started arriving every other day.

Kyle did his best to come up with new excuses, but it was an uphill battle. Slughorn held dinner parties five times a week.

They called it a dinner party, but in reality, it was just a small group of students sitting around as Slughorn rambled on about his former students—who had achieved what, who had sent him what gifts.

And, as always, everyone dutifully gasped at all the right moments.

Compared to the endless stories, the meal itself was practically an afterthought.

Kyle attended a few times, but every time he returned, he went straight to the kitchen. There was nothing remotely edible at those gatherings.

Luckily, being in Hufflepuff, his common room was right next to the kitchens—so he could always grab something to eat when he wanted.

Harry and Hermione, however, weren’t as fortunate. By the time Slughorn’s gatherings ended, it was nearly curfew, and neither of them had enough time to take the long way around to the kitchens.

Fortunately, there was Ron.

Every night, he smuggled food from the Great Hall for them.

It wasn’t fresh, of course, but all they had to do was pop it in the fireplace when they got back.

It wasn’t ideal—but it was better than nothing.