Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 948: The Deal with Grindelwald

“…What exactly is it that made him favor you so much?”

As Grindelwald spoke, Kyle felt as if something had dropped out of the sky and landed squarely on his head.

Looking closer—it was a giant barrel filled with vinegar.

It was the kind of feeling youʼd get if a Hufflepuff tried to return to the common room, got the password wrong, and ended up drenched in vinegar.

The entire space inside the suitcase—an area nearly half the size of the Forbidden Forest—was now thick with the stench of jealousy.

It was overwhelming...

Kyle instinctively took a step back, trying to put some distance between himself and Grindelwald.

“Maybe it’s because I’m a student…” Kyle said, eyes flickering as he tried to keep his voice steady. “A kind-hearted, high-achieving student is always bound to win the headmaster’s favor, isn’t he?”

“High-achieving, perhaps…” Grindelwald said, pacing gracefully in a slow circle around Kyle.

“I happened to see some very interesting memories from the gentleman who gave me my wand. Want to know what I saw?”

“Sir, peeking into someone else’s memories is highly inappropriate,” Kyle said carefully.

Grindelwald paused for a moment. Even his voice turned a bit rough—but only for an instant before returning to normal.

He continued circling Kyle, speaking softly. “Many people see me as an evil Dark wizard—the one who started the Wizarding War. But do you know when I first used the Killing Curse on an enemy?”

“No, I don’t…”

“Seventeen,” Grindelwald cut in before Kyle could finish. “I was still studying at Durmstrang. Sure, I was obsessed with Dark magic and experimented on classmates—but I never intended to kill any of them.”

“Then they expelled me, and I no longer had the chance.”

He seemed to drift into a nostalgic tone, recounting stories no one had asked for...

Well—except Dumbledore, who was listening quite intently.

Kyle had no interest in hearing it, but it didn’t feel right to interrupt him.

Grindelwald completed another circle and continued, “And then there’s that so-called Dark Lord... that hideous creature.”

“When did he first kill someone?” he asked, directing the question to Dumbledore.

“As far as I know, it was in his fifth year,” Dumbledore said after a brief moment of thought. “Moaning Myrtle—that was likely the first time he deliberately killed another wizard. He would’ve been about sixteen.”

“Sixteen, not exactly young,” Grindelwald said thoughtfully. “But I know someone who was only eleven, just started school, and killed an illegal Animagus in the forest.”

“Oh, and over the holidays, he also killed a werewolf.” He fixed his gaze on Kyle, all but calling him by name.

“That wasn’t me! I didn’t do it—don’t make things up,” Kyle protested immediately. “That Animagus rat was killed by Oren—it had nothing to do with me.

“And the werewolf—I was just defending myself. Besides, it was only injured. It didn’t die.”

“Ah, so it had nothing to do with you… just self-defense…” Grindelwald narrowed his eyes. “An unshakable justification.”

“And what about that professor in your second year? Quirinus Quirrell?” Grindelwald continued, not even glancing at Snape, who was now sweating nervously at the side.

Maybe he noticed—but he clearly didn’t care.

“Let me guess, you had to kill him for the sake of self-defense, too?”

“That honestly had nothing to do with me,” Kyle insisted, shaking his head quickly. “He tried to drag all of us down with him and cast a wide-area Fiendfyre Curse. Thankfully, Dumbledore showed up in time and saved both me and Harry.”

“I can vouch for that,” Dumbledore said with a nod. “Quirinus Quirrell did die from Fiendfyre. At that time, Kyle didn’t even know that spell.”

“You’re too trusting, Albus,” Grindelwald snorted. He didn’t argue, but he clearly wasn’t convinced.

“And in third year…”

“Nothing happened in third year,” Kyle said quickly. “Some people were injured, yes—but everyone survived. Even Professor Lockhart just lost his memory. No one died.”

“Then what about that other Animagus in your fourth year?”

“Peter? He got what he deserved.”

“Another unshakable justification,” Grindelwald said with meaning, though this time, he didn’t challenge it.

“As for your fifth year—the Triwizard Tournament—I don’t even need to bring it up, do I?” He stepped forward, his slightly clouded eyes fixed on Kyle. “You were even brought to trial at the Ministry of Magic.”

“And most importantly, after that, you completely dropped your mask. Especially after graduation—the number of wizards youʼve killed keeps growing.”

“Looking at it this way, you might be more terrifying than either me or that Tom.” Grindelwald glanced deliberately at Dumbledore. “At least when I was eleven, I hadn’t killed anyone—and hadn’t planned to.”

“I’ve already said—Pocky, that Animagus rat, was killed by Oren,” Kyle repeated with a sigh. He wasn’t going to take the blame for that.

“And I don’t know where you got those bizarre, jumbled memories…” Kyle locked eyes with Grindelwald.

“But I can tell you plainly—before the Battle of Hogwarts, my magic was as pure as untouched snowfall in winter.”

“You don’t need to remind me of that,” Grindelwald said with a smile. “I noticed it the last time you came here.”

“And that’s what makes it truly frightening, isn’t it?” he added, giving Dumbledore another meaningful look—like he was trying to plant seeds of doubt.

Merlin, give me strength, Kyle thought, twitching at the corners of his mouth.

But Dumbledore’s expression remained completely unchanged. He knew the truth. Grindelwald’s words weren’t enough to shake him.

And at this point—when he couldn’t even hold a wand—what Dumbledore thought didn’t seem to matter much anymore.

Even if Kyle really did become the next Dark Lord… there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Let’s make a deal.”

Seeing that Grindelwald was about to continue speaking, Kyle quickly reached out and pulled out three photographs.

Only… he held them the wrong way around, so all Grindelwald could see were the handwritten notes on the backs:

[Heartbroken]

[Surprised]

[Marriage Certificate]

“Pick one. After that, we drop the subject. Deal?” Kyle said.

“What’s this?” Grindelwald raised an eyebrow. “Your photo diary? I’m not interested.”

“I think you are,” Kyle replied confidently. “In fact, I’d wager that once you see what’s on the photo, you’ll be dying to snatch the other two.”

“But let me be clear—you can only pick one. I’m not handing over the rest.”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself.” Grindelwald stared at the cards, but Kyle shifted his hand slightly, revealing a glimpse of yellow beneath the top one.

Grindelwald immediately averted his gaze.

“All this fuss over a few pictures?”

“These are treasures,” Kyle said with a grin. “You can never be too careful.”

“Fine. I’ll take this one,” Grindelwald said dismissively, grabbing the top photo labeled [Heartbroken] and flipping it over casually.

In that instant, his pupils visibly contracted, and his once steady breathing turned ragged.

“Give me the rest!” He lunged toward Kyle.

But Kyle had anticipated this. The moment Grindelwald looked at the photo, Kyle had already taken several quick steps back.

Grindelwald’s hand grasped at nothing.

He instinctively moved forward—

—and Kyle’s fingers flared with crimson fire, the flickering flame hovering less than an inch from the remaining photos.

“Don’t move, Mr. Grindelwald. Take one more step, and I’ll burn them all.”

“You’re threatening me,” Grindelwald said coldly, eyes locked on him.

“Yes, I am.” Kyle was completely unbothered. “And I’m not afraid to tell you—I took these photos myself. There’s no way you’ll find another copy. Especially this one…”

He lifted the photo labeled [Marriage Certificate] and waved it slightly.

“I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now—I’ve been to 1899.”

“I knew it,” Grindelwald said in a low voice. “When you came to Nurmengard last time, I realized that wasn’t our first meeting.”

“In Godric’s Hollow, you told Bathilda Bagshot you liked History of Magic… Do you remember what I said to you then?”

“You said… ‘I knew we’d meet again,’” Kyle recalled softly, thinking back to that day in Nurmengard.

“That’s right. After seeing you, a lot of memories suddenly came flooding back—along with a few bold theories. And lucky for me, I’m usually right.”

“I don’t buy it,” Kyle said.

“For example, Albus’s foolish sister—the one who haunted him all his life,” Grindelwald said with a hint of smugness.

“If he had the chance to go back, I’m sure he’d try to save Ariana. But that’s impossible. Trying to change the past only gets you trapped in it—lost to time…”

“But I have memories of you in my past. Which means someone did go back… Tell me I’m wrong.”

Kyle fell silent for a moment.

“What makes you so sure it wasn’t me who went to 1899?”

“Because you came to me,” Grindelwald replied calmly. “And I heard the frustration in your voice… You came to me because of Albus.”

“Just because I mentioned Professor Dumbledore?” Kyle said, incredulous. “In that short time, you figured out the truth—and even guessed what I was about to ask?”

“If you want to bring Albus back, you’d need to find him first,” Grindelwald said, inching forward another two steps. “And I told you—I’m quite talented in some areas…”

In a sudden movement, he lunged and snatched the photo labeled [Surprised].

But Kyle reacted instantly, lifting his hand again. The fiery plume leapt dangerously close to the final photo—so close that one corner had already begun to curl and yellow.

“Stop!”

Grindelwald recoiled in a panic, stumbling several steps backward.

Only then did Kyle pull the Fiendfyre away.

“I’ll admit it—you’re the most calculating wizard I’ve ever met. Maybe even terrifying. But I’m no slouch either.”

He flicked the flame back and forth near the last photo.

“To be honest, I took this one in 1899. The location? A barn.”

Grindelwald’s expression changed instantly. “Give it to me… Name your price.”

Dumbledore’s face shifted as well.

1899. The barn.

Thinking back to everything that had happened—along with Kyle’s ever-present camera—he suddenly understood.

“You…”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Kyle said.

“No. I want it now!”

“You two…”

“It’s in my hands. I make the rules.”

Kyle and Grindelwald ignored Dumbledore, eyes locked in a silent standoff.

Then Kyle gave a subtle wave.

A small, furry creature popped out from nearby.

Before Grindelwald could react, Kyle slipped the photo into the Niffler’s pouch.

“Eat it if things get dangerous,” Kyle said.

In the blink of an eye, the Niffler disappeared into the ground once again.

A vein pulsed sharply on Grindelwald’s forehead. He raised his wand on instinct but didn’t act. His expression shifted several times before he finally lowered it.

“I hate Nifflers…”

“I quite like them,” Kyle replied with a grin. “They’re adorable—and incredibly capable.”

The comment stirred up some unpleasant memories for Grindelwald. He had once owned something of great importance—something that had been stolen by a Niffler.

Those magical creatures were small and fragile, lacking any means of offense, yet their survival instincts were unmatched. And their special talent... downright unreasonable.

They could snatch something without anyone noticing—a natural-born thief.

Yes, even he hadn’t noticed it. Otherwise, the vessel containing the Blood Pact would never have been taken.

It remained one of the most frustrating regrets of Grindelwald’s life.

And now, yet another item tied to the Blood Pact had ended up in a Niffler’s paws—and worse, he couldn’t be certain he’d be able to catch it quickly.

In some ways, Nifflers were more troublesome than Wampus Cats.

“What do you want?” Grindelwald asked again.

“I told you—I need to think about it,” Kyle said. “Something this valuable deserves a proper price.”

“That thing is worthless to anyone else.”

“Which is exactly why I’m only extorting you,” Kyle replied matter-of-factly.

The vein on Grindelwald’s forehead twitched harder.

For a moment, he genuinely wanted to stab Kyle with his wand—no spells, just stab him.

The standoff stretched on for nearly ten minutes, the tension between them growing increasingly sharp.

“Let’s not forget, we still have more important matters to deal with,” Dumbledore finally interjected, breaking the heavy silence.

He didn’t understand how a matter so deeply tied to him had ended up with him standing on the sidelines—unable to intervene, not even allowed to voice an opinion.

Sure, he wasn’t technically alive—but still, being ignored like this?

And to top it off, Kyle had just used his photo to strike a deal—right in front of him. It was a bit much.

Dumbledore was furious, so he decided to... change the subject.

What else could he do? If he’d had the strength to cast even the simplest Lumos, there’s no way he’d have just stood there watching Kyle and Grindelwald posture like that.

“More important matters...” Kyle looked at Dumbledore and blinked, puzzled. “So... you weren’t here for me?”

“Not initially,” Grindelwald said, eyes narrowing. “But that’s changed. Those photos—you’ve got more than three, don’t you?”

“That depends on your interpretation,” Kyle said. “Personally, I enjoy collecting photos that carry... special meaning.”

“But I’m not giving them to you. Two is enough for me to enjoy privately.” He added with a smirk, which made Grindelwald grind his wand between his fingers in frustration.

He had once thought Newt Scamander was the most insufferable person alive.

He was wrong.

And this Kyle—he was connected to Scamander too. That suitcase was all too familiar.

Yes... not killing Scamander back then had clearly been a mistake.

Grindelwald said nothing, focusing instead on calming himself. Dumbledore seized the moment to step between them, trying to diffuse the tension as he shifted the topic.

“Kyle, you’re right—we didn’t come here looking for you. We’re looking for someone else.”

“Someone else…” Kyle instinctively glanced at Snape.

Aside from him, Snape was the only other person present.

Suddenly, Kyle realized just how quiet Snape had been during their entire exchange. And when he’d seen Grindelwald, he hadn’t shown the slightest hint of surprise.

That was... not like him.

Wait—

Grindelwald had mentioned the person who gave him the wand. The one who let him see those memories…

It had to be Snape.

Kyle couldn’t help but look toward Dumbledore.

The old wizard was staring at Snape with a solemn expression.

“Severus,” he said quietly, “can you tell me why you gave your wand to Grindelwald?”