Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 952: Two Silly Boys

“What was that sound just now... Tell me what that sound was…”

Snape, still recovering, struggled to his feet, bracing himself against a nearby tree with his left hand. His eyes locked not on Kyle’s face, but on something he was clearly hiding behind his back.

“There was no sound. You must’ve imagined it,” Kyle replied calmly.

“I don’t make mistakes like that,” Snape said firmly, confident in his senses.

He hadn’t even been able to stand a moment ago, but the second he’d heard that sound, instinct had kicked in—he’d turned his head on reflex.

And in that exact moment, he’d seen Kyle quickly tuck something behind him.

“Maybe it was an owl flying past,” Kyle said, his expression unchanged. “You know how many letters Hogwarts gets, especially these days. Everyone in the castle and outside wants updates. Naturally, that means more owls.”

“Then show me your hand…” Snape tried to lunge forward and grab it, but he was still too shaky. The moment he took his arm off the tree, his body tilted and nearly collapsed.

Even so, he kept his gaze locked on Kyle.

He was reminded of the time inside the suitcase, when Kyle had handed Grindelwald a few photos.

Snape hadn’t seen what was in them, but he remembered the sound. And what he’d just heard was almost exactly like a camera shutter.

“Why don’t you believe me?” Kyle said, sighing as he brought his hand out from behind his back and waved it in front of Snape.

“See? Nothing.”

Snape eyed him suspiciously, then staggered around to his back, scanning carefully with a furrowed brow.

Nothing on the ground. Nothing hidden under his robes...

And he was certain Kyle hadn’t touched the Mokeskin pouch—he’d been watching closely. That meant there was no chance to stash anything away.

Was it possible he’d imagined it? Or maybe it really had just been an owl?

Even Snape began to doubt himself.

The phoenix’s Apparition had been... intense. His head was still ringing. Hearing nonexistent sounds didn’t seem entirely out of the question.

“What were you trying to hide just now?” Snape asked suddenly, hoping to catch him off guard.

“Huh?” Kyle blinked, looking genuinely confused. “What did you say?”

Snape stared at him for another moment, then said, “Nothing. We should head back to the castle.”

“Okay then, weird,” Kyle muttered, turning and walking toward the castle.

Snape watched for a moment to make sure he didn’t turn back or hesitate. Once he was certain, he staggered after him.

He must’ve misheard, Snape told himself.

If only he’d walked a little faster, he might’ve seen the look of relief on Kyle’s face.

Thank Merlin he hadn’t fully locked the suitcase—that had given the Niffler just enough time to sneak out the camera.

No wonder Snape had survived for years as Voldemort’s top undercover agent. His instincts were sharp. Even when he was practically retching his guts out, he’d still noticed something wasn’t right.

If he’d actually caught Kyle taking that photo… well, actually, maybe it wouldn’t matter.

Come to think of it, with how weak Snape was right now, even if he had realized what Kyle was doing, there wasn’t much he could do to stop him.

The only real risk was that he might ask Kanna for help.

And honestly, if Kanna came to help him get the photo back, Kyle would be heartbroken.

Because that photo… it was a masterpiece. A one-of-a-kind shot of the always-stoic Snape squirming on the ground, crawling, retching into the Black Lake...

Once developed with some Revealing Solution, it would easily make the top three in Kyle’s personal collection—right behind the legendary, irreplaceable “Barn Wedding License.”

Thank goodness he hadn’t noticed…

Kyle quickened his pace without thinking and stopped at the castle entrance.

When Snape finally caught up, one foot dragging behind the other, breath still uneven, Kyle cut him off before he could speak.

“Leave the rest to me.”

Kyle said, “Kanna should be in the Hospital Wing helping Madam Pomfrey. You’ll probably find her there.”

Snape gave him a long, unreadable look, said nothing, and turned to go.

“Remember to change your appearance.”

Though Snape was as rude as ever, Kyle still offered a friendly reminder. “If you go to the Hospital Wing looking like that, Madam Pomfrey will probably kick you out—and trigger the castle’s defense systems.

“You don’t want to get thrashed by Professor McGonagall in front of Kanna, do you?”

“Shut up. I don’t need you telling me what to do,” Snape replied without so much as glancing back.

Watching him walk off, Kyle shrugged.

He hadn’t really said it for Snape’s sake anyway—he just didn’t want to make another trip to the Ministry’s temporary prison to bail someone out. Rumor had it the place was worse than Azkaban.

At least with Dementors around, you never had to worry about the temperature. Or food spoiling.

In fact, Azkaban’s food never had the chance to go bad… in more ways than one.

Kyle wondered how the plans to reopen Azkaban were coming along.

He lingered in place for a bit longer, only heading up the steps once Snape had completely disappeared around the castle courtyard.

There seemed to be even fewer people in the castle than when he’d been taken away. In the Great Hall, just a few former members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were catching up.

Oliver Wood was chatting with Harry, while Fred was joking with Angelina Johnson.

As for how Kyle could tell it was Fred and not George—wasn’t it obvious? George had never asked Angelina to the Yule Ball.

“Harry, look—it’s Kyle!”

Hermione, sharp-eyed as ever, was the first to spot him at the entrance. She rushed over.

“Thank goodness… When you disappeared, the professors were frantic.”

“We’ve been looking everywhere—Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, you name it. But there was no sign of you.”

“Oh, and your dad showed up too. But after hearing you’d been taken by the phoenix, he left again.”

She rattled it all off at lightning speed, like pouring out a bag of beans.

Though some parts were a bit unclear, Kyle managed to piece together a general idea of what had happened while he was gone.

“It’s fine. No need to panic,” Kyle said. “Fawkes just got a little emotional. I was about to explain everything to Professor McGonagall. You lot carry on.”

“Oh, Kyle—glad you’re okay.”

Oliver Wood came bounding over, practically shoving Hermione aside in his excitement.

He looked Kyle up and down, rubbing his hands eagerly. “Interested in joining Puddlemere United? We could really use a Chaser like you.”

“Puddlemere United?”

“I’m their Keeper now. Officially,” Oliver said with a proud grin.

“Congrats,” Kyle said with a smile.

Oliver was only in his early twenties. Becoming a full-time player at that age was impressive.

Not everyone could be Viktor Krum, after all—competing internationally right out of school.

“But I’ll have to pass on joining Puddlemere for now. I’m not really looking to go pro just yet.”

“That’s a shame,” Oliver sighed. “We’re seriously short on a strong Chaser.”

“Why not ask Angelina?”

“I did. But she wants to join the Holyhead Harpies.”

“Well, can’t blame her,” Kyle said, spreading his hands.

They chatted a while longer before Kyle made to head toward the Headmaster’s Office. But he’d barely taken two steps when he felt someone tug at his robe.

“Hermione?”

Kyle glanced back. “Something else?”

“No, not really.” Hermione pressed her lips together, looking nervous.

“It’s just… there’s something we’ve been meaning to ask.”

“We’ve always wondered… Actually, it’s not just us. People have been talking…”

“Yeah, we just heard it from others…”

Harry and Ron, standing nearby, seemed even more flustered than she was. The three of them stammered and fidgeted, but still couldn’t form a complete sentence.

“What is it you’re trying to ask?” Kyle said, beginning to lose patience. “If you haven’t figured it out, just wait and ask me later.”

As Kyle turned to go again, Hermione suddenly bit her lip and blurted out:

“We just want to ask… is Professor Dumbledore still alive?”

Kyle froze mid-step.

To be honest, the question made him tense up.

For a moment, he seriously wondered if someone had gone and opened Dumbledore’s tomb.

But he quickly regained his composure.

“Why would you think Professor Dumbledore is still alive?” he asked calmly. “You were there the night he was killed, weren’t you?”

“I know how it sounds—ridiculous, even—but it’s not impossible.”

“Why?”

“Because of the phoenix,” Hermione said, pulling out a thick book. “I’ve read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. It says a phoenix only obeys Dumbledore’s commands.”

“So… you think it was Professor Dumbledore who told Fawkes to take me away?” Kyle raised an eyebrow, finally letting out a breath of relief.

But it was interesting—Hermione had guessed the truth. In a way, her insight really was sharp, and her thinking bold.

Most people wouldn’t see a phoenix and immediately leap to the conclusion that Dumbledore was still alive. Just look at Harry and Ron beside her.

Hermione must have shared her theory with them beforehand, but they hadn’t believed her—hence all the awkward stammering.

To them, the idea probably felt as absurd as asking Snape why a cauldron couldn’t be used to fry eggs.

Maybe Hermione had thought the same at first. But still—she asked.

Did she trust her judgment that much? Or was it just plain stubbornness?

“No, it doesnʼt,” Kyle said after a brief pause.

“But the phoenix—”

“I think you’ve misunderstood something.” Kyle gave a casual flick of his finger.

The copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them in Hermione’s arms flipped open on its own, stopping at the page with the illustration of the phoenix.

“I suggest you read that part again, carefully.” Kyle waved his hand once more, underlining two lines of text.

“It says that a phoenix appears when Dumbledore is in need... Notice, it just says Dumbledore, not Albus Dumbledore. There’s an essential difference between the two.”

Hermione stared at the words, her expression slowly turning blank with realization.

“The owner of the Hog’s Head,” Kyle continued. “His name is Aberforth Dumbledore…”

“Dumbledore…” Hermione murmured.

“That’s right. Exactly what you’re thinking—he’s Professor Dumbledore’s younger brother.”

“Ohhh, I get it now!” Ron said, snapping his fingers. “It must’ve been him who sent the phoenix to pick you up!”

He turned triumphantly to Hermione. “Told you! There’s no way Professor Dumbledore is still alive. We literally saw his ghost—back in Hogsmeade.”

Harry didn’t say anything, but from the look on his face, it was clear he agreed.

“Sorry,” Hermione muttered, her cheeks turning red. “I misunderstood.”

“It’s alright. Not many people even know the Hog’s Head’s owner is also a Dumbledore. It makes sense you’d jump to that conclusion.”

“And besides,” Kyle added softly, “you weren’t entirely wrong. As long as you remember Professor Dumbledore, he won’t truly be gone.”

“Yeah...” Hermione managed a small smile, though it was clearly forced. She mostly felt embarrassed—especially with Ron and Harry right there.

Ugh, why had her brain immediately jumped to Dumbledore might still be alive just from seeing the phoenix?

Kyle didn’t explain any further. He simply cast a glance—half disdain, half exasperation—at Harry and Ron, who looked completely unbothered, as if none of it had happened.

Well... fine then. That’s just how it is.

...

This time, no one stopped him. Kyle left the Great Hall and climbed the stairs to the eighth floor, arriving at the entrance to the Headmaster’s Office.

The stone gargoyle, upon seeing Kyle from a distance, promptly stepped aside and leapt out of the way.

“Is Professor McGonagall inside?” Kyle asked.

“Yes. She is.”

“No password?”

“There have been too many visitors lately. The password’s been temporarily disabled.”

“Huh…” Kyle clicked his tongue.

For a moment, he’d thought maybe he was the only one granted special access—but it turned out no one needed a password right now.

Understandable, really. With so many people coming and going, even the stone gargoyle seemed fed up. Disabling the password made things easier.

He just hoped there wasn’t already someone else inside… Kyle stepped onto the spiral staircase.

Luck was on his side. As he pushed open the oak door, the previous guest was just on their way out.

It was a middle-aged wizard Kyle didn’t recognize—plump, balding, and from a distance, almost a dead ringer for Professor Slughorn.

“Kyle, I heard from the portraits that you were back,” said Professor McGonagall, emerging from behind her desk.

“You disappeared without a trace from Hogwarts. I had no idea how to explain that to Chris… But he seemed convinced you weren’t in any danger. Came to check in, then left again to go back to work.”

There was both concern and a touch of irritation in her voice.

Of course, the irritation wasn’t directed at Kyle—it was aimed at Chris.

When Kyle had vanished, she’d been caught completely off guard and had no idea how to face Chris or Diana. But Chris’s laid-back attitude had been… a bit too much. He hadn’t shown the slightest worry about whether Kyle might be in danger.

Probably because Chris already knew Dumbledore wasn’t dead, Kyle thought to himself.

“Where did the phoenix take you?” Professor McGonagall asked, clearly still concerned.

“To a forest… probably somewhere Dumbledore frequents,” Kyle answered. He had intended to tell her about Grindelwald leaving Nurmengard, but decided to hold off.

Better to wait until there was official word from Dumbledore. Who knew—Grindelwald might decide to return to the tower after all.

No need to stir up panic just yet.

Though she found the explanation a bit odd, Professor McGonagall didn’t press the issue.

Kyle’s safe return already lent plenty of credibility to his story.

Besides, she didn’t know much about phoenixes—only that they were deeply connected to Dumbledore. Maybe this was just one of their unique traits.

“I’m just glad you’re safe,” McGonagall said. “Oh, and if you’re planning to stay at Hogwarts, I suggest Chris send a letter.”

“I’ll make sure he does,” Kyle replied. “But actually, Professor McGonagall, I came for another reason.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“It’s about Snape.”

At the mention of that name, McGonagall looked up sharply, her lips pressed into a tight line.

“You know where that coward is?”

It was clear from her tone she was furious. Kyle decided not to waste time trying to explain first.

He walked over to a nearby cabinet—the one that used to house the Pensieve.

Or rather, used to.

He found a finely crafted, tower-shaped pedestal next to it and retrieved a small glass vial no bigger than a finger. Then, after a brief moment of reluctance, he pulled the Pensieve out of his suitcase and poured the memories inside.

“Kyle, what are you doing?” McGonagall asked. “Is that… Albus’s memory?”

“That’s right,” Kyle nodded. “These are memories between Professor Dumbledore and Snape.”

“I don’t really know how to explain it… but I think you should see them for yourself.”