Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 938: Rita Skeeter’s Gift

“Thank goodness, I wasn’t wrong...”

Kyle and Kanna had just reached the staircase and were on their way to the kitchen when they saw Professor McGonagall hurrying toward them, a look of visible relief on her face.

“Professor McGonagall, is something wrong?” Kyle asked, glancing quickly around.

Everything was quiet—no screams, no cries for help—so it probably wasn’t another Voldemort attack.

“It’s about the Ministry of Magic,” McGonagall said as she approached. “They want you to go there as soon as possible.”

“The Ministry?” Kyle frowned. “Why can’t they just come to Hogwarts?”

“Bones didn’t say,” McGonagall replied with a shake of her head. “She only sent an owl with a letter. It doesn’t seem urgent, so you can take your time—go when it’s convenient.”

“Oh, right—here it is.” She pulled a letter from her pocket and handed it to Kyle. “This was meant for you, but the owl delivering it seemed to get lost and brought it to me instead.”

Kyle accepted the letter without much surprise at the mention of a lost owl.

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.

It was probably due to the alchemical mist. Whenever he stayed in the garden, owls would circle around like they were caught in the effects of the Fidelius Charm.

Of course, the alchemical mist wasn’t nearly as powerful—it only confused the more inexperienced owls.

For seasoned messengers, it was just a minor inconvenience. They’d usually find the correct path again before long.

Normally, Ratton would handle it. He’d stand guard outside the wooden hut, figure out which owl was bringing a message for Kyle, and guide it in the right direction.

But Ratton wasn’t here right now—he’d gone elsewhere.

Kyle opened the envelope and unfolded the parchment inside.

The message was brief. Aside from the usual greetings and pleasantries, the rest said exactly what McGonagall had already told him... that he should go to the Ministry as soon as possible.

“I understand, Professor McGonagall.” Kyle folded the letter and tucked it into his pocket.

“If you need help, let us know,” McGonagall said with a smile. “And if you don’t want to go, that’s fine too—I can refuse Bones for you.”

“You can do that?” Kyle raised an eyebrow.

“Why not?” McGonagall said. “You defeated Voldemort and stopped him from taking over Hogwarts. He won’t just let that go.”

“In your situation, staying at Hogwarts is far safer. I’m sure Bones will understand... especially since she’s seen for herself that Voldemort isn’t dead.”

“I see.”

Kyle thought for a moment. “It’s fine, Professor. I’ll go—but not right now...” He added, “The most important thing at the moment is lunch. Kanna hasn’t eaten anything in nearly a day.”

“Miss Prince?” McGonagall finally noticed Kanna standing beside him. “I heard everything from Sirius. I’m so glad you’re all right. How are you feeling? Do you need to see Poppy again?”

“But she might not have the antidote for the Draught of Living Death. You should probably see Slughorn instead.”

“Oh, and those potions you brought—they saved a lot of people. Since this morning, folks have been asking me to pass along their thanks to you...”

For some reason, Professor McGonagall suddenly seemed like a different person—almost chatty.

She rambled on about all sorts of things, even complaining about the weather... which was unlike her, especially considering how busy she looked.

But it made sense. The Death Eater attack had just ended, and the school had suffered heavy damage. Even the castleʼs magical protections had been blasted to pieces by hundreds of spells.

In times like this, as acting headmistress, McGonagall couldn’t possibly have much free time.

Still, she talked and talked, and if Kanna hadn’t cut in, she might have kept going.

“I’m really fine, Professor,” Kanna said with a smile. “And I didn’t do much during the battle. Bringing those potions was just something small I could help with.”

“Who told you that you didn’t help?” McGonagall’s tone shifted. “Bill told me you saved at least two people in the Astronomy Tower and stopped more than a dozen Death Eaters from getting up there. How can that not count as helping?”

She spoke quickly, as if afraid Kanna wouldn’t believe her, even citing Bill as proof.

But she wasn’t wrong—Kanna had only collapsed and left the battle after Snape arrived.

Before that, she had been standing her ground in the Astronomy Tower, fighting alongside the others.

Still... McGonagall’s reaction did seem a bit over the top.

“Professor,” Kanna said, watching McGonagall hesitate as though struggling to speak, her expression conflicted. “It’s okay—just say what you want to say.”

“Was I that obvious?” McGonagall frowned, then sighed. “All right, I just don’t want you to overthink things, Kanna.”

“You’re a good girl, and you’re nothing like that trai—sorry, I mean, you’re not like Severus Snape. What he did has nothing to do with you. You shouldn’t punish yourself for his actions—it’s not worth it.”

“And if you hear any rumors or gossip, ignore them. Leave all that to the professors.”

“Of course, Professor,” Kanna said with a smile.

If McGonagall had said this earlier, it might have helped a bit. But now... well, it still helped. Being cared for and valued felt good, no matter the timing.

Only, Kanna already knew the truth. She knew Snape hadn’t betrayed anyone, so she wasn’t upset anymore.

As for what others thought... that didn’t matter to her. She was never going to be close to those people anyway.

“Professor McGonagall, I—”

“Professor, I already said something like that to Kanna just a moment ago.” Kyle stepped forward, cutting off whatever Kanna had been about to say.

Kanna glanced at Kyle, seemed to realize something, and instinctively nodded along. “Yes, Professor McGonagall. Kyle went on and on—I’m starving just from listening to him.”

“That’s good then, that’s good.” McGonagall looked at the two of them—especially at Kanna—and only relaxed when she was sure Kanna wasn’t forcing a smile.

“Weren’t you on your way to lunch? Why not go to the Great Hall?”

“Too many people,” Kanna replied. “And most of them are wizards we don’t know. It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“And,” Kyle added, “if I show up in the Great Hall right now, I doubt I’ll get a proper meal. I really should’ve brought Harry with me.”

“Potter?” McGonagall blinked, not immediately understanding what Harry had to do with it.

“If I throw him out there to draw attention, maybe I can enjoy a moment of peace,” Kyle said, spreading his hands. “Gotta admit, the title of ‘The Boy Who Lived’ really comes in handy.”

“So you’re going to find Potter now?” McGonagall gave Kyle a look of mild exasperation.

“No, not really.” Kyle shook his head. “We’re just planning to eat somewhere else. If I don’t want to draw attention, there are other ways—like staying out of sight.

“Hmm… the kitchen’s a good spot. That’s where we were headed. Plenty of space, and we can order whatever we want. Honestly, it’s more convenient than the Great Hall.”

“The Hogwarts kitchen…” McGonagall frowned, clearly not thrilled with the idea.

Yes, the kitchen didn’t have other students around—but it did have house-elves.

And with their level of enthusiasm, they’d be checking on you every few seconds, asking if you needed anything. Eating quietly? Not going to happen.

Don’t ask McGonagall how she knew that.

A few years ago, she had gone to the kitchen to deliver a message from Dumbledore about hosting a feast. From the moment she stepped in to the moment she left—barely a few minutes—her arms had been stuffed with cookies, bacon, and cake.

In some ways, the house-elves were even more enthusiastic than the students in the Great Hall.

“Kanna, come with me,” McGonagall said directly. “The school kitchens can deliver food straight to the professors’ offices, and I’ve got quite a few things I’d like to discuss with you.”

“Okay,” Kanna agreed without hesitation, following after her.

“Wait—Professor McGonagall, what about me?” Kyle remained in place and pointed at himself. “Aren’t you going to invite me too?”

“Sorry…” McGonagall turned back. “But I think you ought to head to the Great Hall instead. Those wizards came a long way just to catch a glimpse of the two saviors—I don’t think you should disappoint them.”

“Savior, huh? That’s easy.” Kyle blinked. “I’ll go fetch Harry.”

“Note that I said two saviors,” McGonagall repeated. “One is Potter. The other is you, Kyle.”

“They’re all well-known wizards, and they came from far and wide to see the person who defeated Voldemort. I’d say that’s a fair reason.”

“You should consider it—it could benefit you,” she added, then turned and left with Kanna.

Kyle watched them go, rubbing his forehead.

Of course he understood what McGonagall meant. He had defeated Voldemort—well, there was a lot more nuance to that than people realized, but most didn’t know the details. All they saw was Voldemort getting beaten and fleeing Hogwarts in disgrace.

Naturally, they gave Kyle the credit.

If he used this chance to connect with those visiting wizards, his name in the wizarding world would rise even faster.

And reputation... reputation could be a powerful thing. With an opportunity like this, it was no surprise McGonagall didn’t want him to miss it.

But she hadn’t insisted, either.

Ever since Voldemort had fled, Kyle’s name had already spread across the magical world. Mingling with those wizards now would just be the icing on the cake.

Helpful, yes—but not essential.

It all came down to what Kyle wanted.

And Kyle certainly had no plans to go. What was the point? Was he going to become Minister of Magic? Or Hogwarts headmaster?

Not a chance.

His age alone made that impossible. Unless he could slay Voldemort at full strength in front of an audience, even the smallest possibility was off the table.

So if he wasn’t going to be Minister or Headmaster, he wasn’t interested. He turned and made his way alone into the lower corridor, heading toward the kitchen.

But just as he reached the corridor near the Hufflepuff common room...

“Big news—huge news!”

An excited, trembling voice rang out behind him, nearly making Kyle jump.

A beetle buzzed through the air, swelling rapidly in size until, in the blink of an eye, it transformed into a witch wearing flower-framed glasses.

“Rita Skeeter?” Kyle looked at her. “I thought youʼd be busy putting together tomorrow’s Daily Prophet.”

“Technically, it’s today’s,” Rita Skeeter corrected him. “The delivery owls will be arriving at every wizarding household any minute now.”

“Something this big can’t wait until tomorrow. If we held it back, we’d be torn apart.”

“So, you already made a trip back to the office?”

“Of course! The moment you defeated You-Know-Who, I had the front page laid out in my head.”

Rita lifted her chin proudly, radiating confidence.

While she was widely known for publishing gossip about famous witches and wizards—and often criticized for it—that didn’t mean she lacked skill.

On the contrary, no one knew how to craft a front page better than Rita Skeeter.

By the time Voldemort had fled Hogwarts, a headline capable of shaking the entire wizarding world had already gone to print.

The only reason she’d taken this long to return was because they were trying to print as many copies as possible.

“And this.” Rita pulled out a camera. “I want to buy it. Name your price—if I can afford it, I won’t haggle.”

That camera held the greatest story of her career, and if she could help it, Rita wanted to keep it forever.

She was even prepared to bankrupt herself for it.

“It’s yours.”

“...”

“What?”

“What, didn’t you hear me?” Kyle repeated. “It’s just a camera. It’s yours. Consider it an early promotion gift... I might be coming to you to publish something one day.”

As the exclusive reporter who had covered the final battle between the Death Eaters and Hogwarts, Rita Skeeter’s fame was already guaranteed.

So giving her an early promotion gift wasn’t so far-fetched.

But Rita wasn’t some clueless novice. She knew full well what that camera meant to her—and Kyle clearly did too.

By handing it over for free, he was making it clear that its value wasn’t in Galleons. The “promotion gift” was just a pretense.

As for what it really meant—Kyle had made that perfectly clear.

“Thank you.”

Rita Skeeter hesitated for only a second before tucking the camera carefully away.