Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 899: Points Must Be Deducted

“So, this is why you’re sneaking around in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?”

Inside the wooden hut, Kyle, just returned from the castle, eyed the three Gryffindors standing against the wall. His brow rose slightly.

“Classic Gryffindor. You’ve even picked up breaking and entering. What’s the rush—trying to get to Azkaban early?”

“Or, if you’d prefer, just nod. I’ve got connections. I can get you a personal cell in Azkaban—private room, top-tier treatment. How about it? Say something!”

Hermione’s face flushed bright red, and she looked ready to sink through the floor. She couldn’t even find the words to speak.

The other two didn’t look much better, but with their thicker skin, they weren’t as obvious about it.

“We… we didn’t break in…” Ron mumbled. “I just gave the door a little push… and it opened.”

“The vaults under Gringotts aren’t locked either—why don’t you go give those a push?” Kyle replied flatly. “There are mountains of Galleons piled in there. Grab whatever you like—no one will stop you.”

Ron went quiet.

“I’m… I’m really sorry,” Hermione said softly after taking a deep breath. “We shouldn’t have come in without your permission.”

“You think I’m the one you should be apologizing to?” Kyle said, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

He wasn’t really mad that they’d snuck in.

The place had only just been set up. There wasn’t anything private inside. He just hadn’t expected them to be this bold.

It wasn’t as if they hadn’t seen dragons before. Back at the Quidditch World Cup, when the Death Eaters attacked, they’d already seen the dragon in his suitcase—Ron had even passed out from fright.

It hadn’t been that long since then. Had they really learned nothing?

Just because it looked like a suitcase didn’t mean you could treat it like one.

Luckily, his Chomping Cabbage and Venomous Tentacula hadn’t been transplanted yet, and Hagrid had been too excited to sleep. Otherwise, the three of them might not have made it out of the dragon’s mouth.

Kyle turned and glanced at Hagrid, who was still standing nearby.

His clothes and hair were still smoking, and the air stank of burnt fabric.

Kyle gave him a look.

“You three—do you know what you did wrong?” Hagrid asked, face stern.

“Yes!”

“We know!”

“We won’t do it again!”

All three nodded vigorously like bobbleheads.

“Then off you go,” Hagrid said seriously. “If this happens again, I’ll tell Professor—Headmistress McGonagall.”

Wait… that’s it?

Kyle looked at Hagrid, stunned.

No detention? Not even points deducted?

Wandering the halls at night, breaking into a professor’s office—and not a single point taken?

Even if they were on good terms, this was blatant favoritism. Not even Snape was this biased.

“Hmm?” Kyle’s tone rose slightly.

“Uh—right! Minus ten points!” Hagrid blurted out quickly, sneaking a glance at Kyle.

In his mind, that should be enough.

Harry and the others hadn’t meant any harm, and Kyle had already scolded them harshly enough.

Honestly, just standing there listening had made him tense. When Kyle had barked, “Stand straight,” he’d instinctively snapped to attention.

And besides, they’d already suffered a bit—Ron’s trousers had literally changed color.

Hagrid figured that between all that, they’d learned their lesson.

Kyle narrowed his eyes.

The real issue was that he wasn’t officially a professor yet, so he didn’t have the authority to deduct house points—otherwise, he wouldn’t have needed Hagrid to do it for him.

“If you think that’s enough, then fine,” he said, rubbing his forehead and waving them toward the door.

Harry and Ron bolted out like they’d been pardoned.

But Hermione stopped at the threshold. She turned around, her expression serious.

“Kyle, even if we were in the wrong this time… keeping dragons is against the law. The Aurors will arrest you.”

“What, are you planning to report me?” Kyle looked at her.

“I won’t—because we’re friends,” Hermione said without hesitation. “But you can’t keep it secret. The professors and Headmistress McGonagall will find out sooner or later.”

Kyle’s mood lifted a little at that.

Not bad—not too rigid.

Truthfully, even if she had gone to report him, he wouldn’t have been surprised.

He knew Hermione could be stubborn.

Back in third year, when Harry received a Firebolt from an unknown sender, she’d gone behind his back and told Professor McGonagall.

Granted, she’d only done it because she was worried it might be cursed, and Harry and Ron wouldn’t listen to reason. Still, it showed just how strong-willed she was.

That was the charitable way to put it.

So whatever decision she made, Kyle wouldn’t blame her. He understood. Their relationship wasn’t particularly close—just ordinary friends, at best.

And this was about dragons. Who wouldn’t react strongly?

Assuming reporting would even help.

Kyle said nothing. He simply raised a hand.

A piece of parchment detached from the wall and floated into his palm.

He handed it to Hermione.

“Take a look. I’m not keeping dragons illegally. Everything’s properly filed. Even if the Aurors show up, they can’t do a thing.”

Hermione glanced at the parchment—and her eyes went wide.

“Legally raising dragons... That’s impossible!” Hermione said in disbelief. “The book clearly states that, aside from dragon reserves, no wizard is allowed to privately keep a Fire Dragon.”

“That might have been true in the past, but it’s not anymore. The signature and magical seal on this document can’t be forged.”

Kyle waggled a finger. “And besides, the professors and the Headmistress are already aware. I went to Hogwarts earlier specifically to sort this out… They’ve already approved my plan to raise dragons in the Forbidden Forest.”

“What?” Hermione was stunned.

“So, as you can see, everything I’m doing is entirely legal. There’s no issue—neither with the school, nor the Ministry of Magic.”

“The Headmistress agreed?” Hagrid’s eyes lit up.

He had known why Kyle had gone to the castle, and he’d been feeling nervous about it the whole time.

He’d stayed up all night—not just because he was excited, but also because he was worried the school might reject Kyle’s application and prohibit dragon keeping in the Forbidden Forest.

“But it’s lucky they didn’t get hurt,” Kyle sighed. “Professor McGonagall only agreed very reluctantly. If a student had been injured by a dragon—let alone killed—even just a scratch, she would’ve immediately changed her mind and revoked my approval.”

“What did you say?” Hagrid paled.

It hadn’t even occurred to him before. Harry’s insatiable curiosity wasn’t new—he’d pestered him about Fluffy, the Three-Headed Dog back in the day.

Hagrid had gotten used to it and didn’t think much of it.

He never imagined that Harry might almost ruin everything this time.

He had waited decades—decades—to finally see dragons at Hogwarts, and even have the chance to touch their scales, to feel that fiery breath up close.

It was the kind of dream not even sleep could offer.

And it had nearly been destroyed—by Harry.

How could he still be so immature? Seventh year, and still sneaking around after dark.

“Stop right there!” Hagrid roared, striding over to block Harry and Ron as they tried to leave.

“W-What’s wrong?” Harry’s heart skipped a beat.

Hagrid’s expression was terrifying—he actually looked scared.

“We were just heading back. Promise—we won’t do it again.”

“Out after hours, breaking rules, sneaking into the Forbidden Forest…” Hagrid said grimly, “Fifty points!”

“Fifty…” Harry blinked, pointing at himself. “Hagrid, take a good look. It’s me.”

“Of course I know it’s you.” Hagrid kept his stern face. “But I’m a professor. If I let you off just because we’re friends, I wouldn’t be doing my job.”

“Oh, and not just fifty—fifty points each!”

“You already deducted points, didn’t you?” Ron was stunned.

There were three of them… That was one hundred and fifty points.

He never dreamed Hagrid would hit them with a deduction like that. Usually, only Snape or Professor McGonagall said numbers that big.

Even Hermione looked shell-shocked. If those points were really deducted, Gryffindor would be dead last for sure this year.

“No, Hagrid…”

“Come on, please…”

“We really know we were wrong…”

...

As Kyle watched the three of them plead with Hagrid from every angle, he felt immensely satisfied.

Now that’s more like it. Ten points? They’d have forgotten about it by breakfast.

But this? This would stick.

...

Ten minutes later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione trudged back toward the castle in a solemn little line, footsteps heavy with regret.

They could already imagine the looks on their housemates’ faces in the morning when Gryffindor’s score in the hourglass dropped like a rock.

But it couldn’t be helped—Hagrid had made up his mind, and no amount of begging could sway him.

After the three had gone, Kyle shut the door and gave Hagrid a thumbs-up.

“Nicely done.”

“Harry’s probably going to hate me for this,” Hagrid sighed, already starting to feel a bit of remorse.

“He won’t. You were doing it for their own good.” Kyle glanced at the door. “That said… are you actually allowed to deduct 150 points?”

At Hogwarts, both awarding and deducting points came with limits.

For instance, Prefects could only take up to ten points per week, and no more than thirty per school year. The Head Boy or Girl could go up to fifty.

That rule existed to prevent abuse. Without it, by the second day of term, every house but Slytherin would be sitting at zero points.

By the third day, Slytherin would be at zero too. And then the House Cup wouldn’t mean anything anymore.

Professors had limits as well. Any major deductions or rewards—like fifty points or more—had to be reported to the Head of House, who would then decide whether to enforce them.

Hagrid taught Care of Magical Creatures and had fewer than a hundred students across all five years. Did he really have the authority to deduct that much?

Or was he just bluffing for effect?

“Alright, but that means I won’t be able to deduct any more points for the rest of the school year,” Hagrid muttered, leaning out the window to check that Harry and the others had truly returned to the castle before turning back around.

“Forget that—did Dumbledore and Minerva really give their approval?”

“Of course. It’s not like I’d lie to them,” Kyle replied. “Though... it did come at a bit of a cost.”

“What kind of cost?”

“Nothing serious… just a small trade-off,” Kyle said, shaking his head, choosing not to tell Hagrid the truth.

Even if he did, it wouldn’t help—Hagrid didn’t know much about magical plants, nor did he have any connections at St. Mungo’s. He couldn’t do anything about it.

“Oh, right—Professor McGonagall is coming tomorrow to assess the safety of the dragons. Try not to get too worked up. Don’t let your excitement show too much.”

“Minerva’s coming?” Hagrid jumped, worry instantly washing over his face. “Didn’t you say she already agreed?”

“Temporarily,” Kyle corrected. “We had the majority in the professors’ vote, and it was late, so Professor McGonagall relented.”

“But as Headmistress, she still has veto power. So it’s not set in stone yet.”

“Then what do we do…” Hagrid’s heart sank.

“No worries. I won’t sleep tonight—I’ll work on reinforcing the Alchemical Mist,” Kyle said.

His original plan had been to inscribe Alchemical Mist across the entire Forbidden Forest inside Hogwarts, creating the effect of a “Dragon Repelling Charm,” but that was a massive project—not something he could finish overnight.

To handle Professor McGonagall’s inspection, he’d focus on strengthening the current “cage” configuration.

This was the same setup Hermione had seen earlier—a contained area that restricted the dragons’ movement, using Alchemical Mist to construct a large-scale invisible cage. From the outside, it looked empty. From the inside, there was no way out.

It would work as a temporary solution. Once the Dragon Repelling Charm was close to completion, he could dismantle the cage without drawing too much attention.

“I’ve got one more question,” Hagrid said suddenly, as something occurred to him. “When Minerva comes, is she going to run into the same situation Harry and the others did?”

The other dragons weren’t too much trouble. They weren’t exactly tame, but they respected Kyle enough not to attack unfamiliar wizards who happened to stumble in.

But that Horntail… even with Hagrid’s dragon-tinted view of the world, he couldn’t in good conscience say that one had a nice personality. At best, it was just... pretty.

“It’s fine. A beating should calm it down—at least for a few days,” Kyle muttered, rubbing his temples.

“What? You’re going to beat up a dragon?” Hagrid jumped to his feet, spreading his arms and planting himself in front of the door like a mother hen guarding her chicks.

“Not me. I’ve got no interest in picking a fight with the Horntail… ,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “Hagrid, you’d better head back. You won’t be able to visit the garden tonight.”

“I’m not—” Hagrid narrowed his eyes. “I won’t go in, I’ll just watch from the side. That’s fine, right?”

“You can watch the Horntail, but not its opponent,” Kyle said. “It’s for your own good. If you still want to keep hanging out with the Dragons, it’s better if you go.”

And what else could the Horntail be fighting but the Basilisk?

Even though Hagrid had an unusually high resistance to curses and dark magic, not even full-blooded giants were completely immune to a Basilisk’s gaze—let alone someone of mixed blood.

If he stuck around to watch, there’d likely be one more disturbingly lifelike stone statue in the garden come morning…

After much coaxing and repeated assurances that the Horntail wouldn’t be harmed, Hagrid finally left—reluctantly, casting a glance back every few steps like a puppy being abandoned at the door.

Kyle shook his head and tried to clear the ridiculous image from his mind.

Outside, the first light of dawn had begun to spread across the sky.

Without wasting another moment, Kyle opened the suitcase—and jumped in.

A few minutes later, a massive serpent poked its head out of the suitcase and slithered through the garden gate, which had been opened in advance.

Moments after, the garden erupted with a violent tremor, accompanied by the faint, ringing clash of metal—like a sharp blade striking a solid shield.

Kyle also climbed out of the suitcase and casually shut the garden gate behind him.

He wasn’t immune to the Basilisk’s gaze either, so he didn’t follow it in. Instead, he stepped outside the house and stood staring blankly at the main door.

Harry and the others’ arrival had served as a timely reminder for Kyle.

Hogwarts never lacked students who enjoyed pushing boundaries—like Harry, Fred, George, or even himself.

The cage was secure, but leaving the entrance exposed was a risk. It needed a lock—one that couldn’t be bypassed with an Unlocking Charm.

Kyle drew his wand and flicked it rapidly. Within a few minutes, a golden circle had appeared on the wooden door.

A closer look revealed that the circle was composed of numerous runes.

But just as he was about to draw the second one, he suddenly paused and called out loudly:

“Hagrid, if you want to disappoint Professor McGonagall, then by all means, keep peeking.”

In the wooden hut next door, Hagrid hastily pulled his face away from the window. A clatter followed from inside—judging by the sound, he’d knocked over his copper pot and broken something else along the way.

Hagrid then stepped out of the hut, his bloodshot eyes glaring.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Fine, if you’re up, then watch. I was going to talk to you later anyway,” Kyle said. “But remember, don’t interrupt me—and don’t let anyone else come close.”

“Got it,” Hagrid replied, thumping his chest.

As long as Kyle was here, he wasn’t worried about anyone bothering the Horntail.

Kyle shook his head and didn’t say anything more to Hagrid. He raised his wand once again.

Next to the circle, another irregular pattern began to take shape. The two designs overlapped and blended with a third, forming a layered composition.

Once enough of these designs were completed, they would together become part of an even more complex symbol.

This was alchemy—an art that used the arrangement and combination of runes and glyphs to trigger specific magical effects.

It was also painstakingly precise. Every step had to be flawless.

Kyle’s hand was steady. Slowly, the symbols on the door came together, bit by bit.

Hagrid stood nearby, watching intently.

But he couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

All he could tell was that Kyle had drawn two large circles, with a square inside and several curved lines. Closer to the center, there were smaller circles and irregular shapes.

In short, it made no sense to him. His eyes blurred, and his head began to spin.

Still, Hagrid was determined to keep watching, though it wasn’t long before he started nodding off.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but by the time the sky had fully brightened, the once-quiet castle had begun to stir. Even from a distance, he could hear the students’ laughter and chatter drifting through the air.

Kyle finally lowered his wand, rubbed his eyes, and let out a long breath.

At last, it was done. The same garden alchemical mist, only this one wasn’t designed for dragons—it was meant for wizards. A simplified version of the one used at the entrance of Beauxbatons.

It was a bit crude, sure, but more than enough to handle the students inside the castle. Especially the ones who had never taken Ancient Runes. If they wandered in unprepared, they’d likely be stuck circling in place for at least an hour.

Kyle wasn’t trying to target anyone in particular... well, okay, maybe he was targeting Harry and Ron—those two couldn’t tell a rune from a runny nose.

He turned to remind Hagrid of a few things, including the proper route through the enchantment.

And that’s when he heard it—a gentle, melodic snore, rising and falling in pitch with almost cheerful rhythm.

Hagrid was still standing there, fast asleep.