Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 961: Horcrux Blueprints

Horcruxes...

When Professor McGonagall brought it up, Kyle only needed a moment to understand what she meant.

“Professor, are you worried someone might become the next Voldemort?”

“Exactly.” McGonagall nodded. “The temptation of immortality is too great, and we can’t guarantee that the details from the hearing won’t leak out.”

“If someone gets any dangerous ideas, the magical world could fall into chaos—and we’d be the ones responsible.”

The more she spoke, the more anxious she became. Her hands clenched into fists without her realizing, and the color gradually drained from her face.

It was her fault for not thinking it through. She’d been so focused on helping Snape shed his Death Eater identity that she’d completely overlooked the allure Horcruxes held for wizards.

Now, all she could do was try to find a way to minimize their impact.

Kyle, on the other hand, was far more at ease.

“Actually, the Horcrux itself isn’t important…” he said as they walked. But when he turned his head, he realized McGonagall was no longer beside him.

She stood a short distance behind, motionless, head bowed.

He had no choice but to double back.

“Professor McGonagall... Professor?”

She didn’t respond, no matter how many times he called out. Kyle eventually gave up and instead walked over to the Three Broomsticks, where he bought a cup of Butterbeer and a small glass of Gillywater.

It was a drink made mainly from hazelnuts, vanilla, and violets—one of McGonagall’s favorites.

When he came back out, she was still standing in the same place. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that she suddenly looked up.

“No need to be nervous, Professor,” Kyle said at once, handing her the Gillywater. “Have something to drink. You did a lot of talking at the hearing.”

“I… Oh, thank you,” McGonagall said, instinctively taking the cup, only to hand it back almost immediately.

“I’ll drink it when I get back. Right now, I need to head back.”

“Bones might not have realized this yet—I need to warn her and come up with a strategy quickly.”

As she spoke, she prepared to Apparate back to the Ministry of Magic.

“Wait, Professor,” Kyle quickly stepped forward to stop her.

“You can go back to school,” McGonagall said, thinking he wanted to accompany her. She shook her head. “This was my oversight. I’ll handle it myself.”

“No, I actually meant... this might not be as big a deal as you think,” Kyle said hastily.

“What are you talking about?” McGonagall pressed her lips together. “We’re talking about Horcruxes—objects that can make wizards immortal!”

“I know. And that’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Kyle nodded. “Horcruxes aren’t the issue. What matters is the method used to create them.”

“The method…” McGonagall faltered for a moment.

“Right.” Kyle waited until she calmed a little, then explained, “Honestly, knowledge of Horcruxes isn’t exactly rare. This kind of Dark Magic is mentioned in a lot of books—even in the school library.”

“But most of those books only talk about what a Horcrux is and what it does. They don’t explain how to make one.”

“Wait,” McGonagall said, looking at him. “Are you saying hardly anyone actually knows how to create a Horcrux?”

“Exactly, Professor.” Kyle smiled. “As far as I know, there’s only one book that details Horcruxes—Secrets of the Darkest Art.”

“What kind of book is that?” McGonagall asked instinctively. She clearly didn’t recognize the name.

“It’s a book on Dark Magic. It was banned centuries ago and is extremely rare,” Kyle explained. “Right now, the only places it might still exist are in the private libraries of ancient pure-blood families like the Blacks.”

“Then how do you know about it?”

“Dumbledore told me,” Kyle said casually. “Besides, Voldemort—back when he was still Tom Riddle—found the book in the school library. That’s how he made the diary Horcrux.”

“What, he never told you?” Kyle blinked at her.

McGonagall’s face darkened.

If Dumbledore had told her, she wouldn’t have had to ask what Secrets of the Darkest Art was.

At least now she finally understood how Voldemort had learned to make Horcruxes… from the school library, of all places.

Unbelievable.

“Where is it now?” she asked, urgency returning to her voice.

“As far as I know, it should be in the headmaster’s office,” Kyle replied after thinking a moment. “But I’m not sure about the exact location. I just know the pages about Horcruxes were torn out.”

McGonagall let out a slight breath of relief.

“Is there any chance someone else has read it?”

“Like I said, the book’s incredibly rare,” Kyle said with a shrug. “You definitely won’t find it in a bookstore. Only an old pure-blood family like the Blacks might have a copy in their private library.”

At that, McGonagall finally felt reassured.

There were only a few such ancient families left—and more importantly, none of them knew about this.

Finding Secrets of the Darkest Art among hundreds of other books in a private collection would be nearly impossible.

“Oh, that reminds me—” Kyle suddenly added, “Even the version of Secrets of the Darkest Art that exists doesn’t include the full process. A lot of key steps are missing.”

“Tom Riddle eventually had to ask Professor Slughorn before he could finish making a Horcrux.”

“Horace?”

“Yeah. But he’s always denied it,” Kyle said. “Even if you asked him now, you wouldn’t get an answer.”

McGonagall’s expression shifted again and again, but Kyle didn’t seem bothered.

“That’s why I said this isn’t really a big deal. Maybe Minister Bones feels the same.”

He handed the Gillywater to McGonagall again.

“Even if the Horcrux gets exposed, so what? It’s practically common knowledge by now. The books that mention Horcruxes in the school library aren’t even kept in the Restricted Section.”

“As long as the method for creating Horcruxes isn’t exposed, this whole thing will remain just idle chatter.”

This time, Professor McGonagall accepted the Gillywater and took a large sip.

“You make a good point—but why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she snapped, shooting Kyle an irritated glare.

“Don’t start picking up Dumbledore’s habit of keeping everything to himself.”

It was clear she wasn’t at all pleased that Dumbledore had kept her in the dark.

“I did tell you,” Kyle said, spreading his hands. “You just weren’t listening.”

McGonagall paused mid-step. She vaguely remembered Kyle trying to say something earlier—but at the time, her mind had been so consumed with the consequences of the Horcruxes being exposed that she hadn’t paid attention.

So… it really was her fault, wasn’t it?

No. No, wait. It was Dumbledore’s fault.

If he’d told her about Horcruxes earlier, she wouldn’t have been left completely unaware.

With that thought, McGonagall subconsciously picked up her pace.

She had decided to return to the Headmaster’s Office and ask Dumbledore’s portrait directly—how could he stay so calm and never say a word to her?

Kyle had no choice but to quicken his steps and keep up.

The two of them passed through the Hogwarts gates.

Just then, Slughorn came walking toward them from the opposite direction.

“Minerva, Kyle! What a pleasure to see you both here…”

He looked to be in good spirits and waved at them enthusiastically from afar.

“I sincerely invite you to attend my dinner party. It’s a proper banquet this time, and quite a few people have already confirmed they’re coming. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to see the Headmistress and our most outstanding graduate at the table.”

He gave Kyle a playful wink.

In truth, Kyle was the one he most wanted to invite—but if Minerva came along, that would be even better.

“Next time, Horace,” McGonagall replied with a glance his way. “We’ve just returned from the Ministry and have other matters to deal with... Kyle included.”

“What a shame…” Slughorn sighed, looking a bit disappointed. “Let’s hope those students never find out what they missed.”

Kyle didn’t respond.

He was used to this. Every time he declined one of Slughorn’s dinner invitations, the man would act like this—like Kyle was some kind of guiding beacon, and his absence meant others would lose their way.

After a bit more small talk, Slughorn headed off.

This time, he was going to Hogsmeade to buy drinks for the dinner.

The school kitchens could handle snacks like cookies and cakes, but they didn’t supply any kind of alcohol.

And drinks were essential for the event.

So Slughorn always made a point of going to the Three Broomsticks ahead of time to buy Butterbeer and his favorite mead. This time was no different.

McGonagall watched his round figure waddle off into the distance, and the slight ease in her brow began to tighten again.

“Do you think there could be others—like Horace—who also know how to make a Horcrux?” she muttered.

“Probably not,” Kyle replied after thinking for a moment

 “Wizards live long lives—there are plenty who’ve lived since the last century, or even the one before that.

But even if word got out, someone would still have to track them down…”

“That… probably isn’t a big deal,” Kyle said quietly. He felt McGonagall might be overreacting a little.

Making a Horcrux wasn’t like planting potatoes or some everyday skill that just came with age.

Besides, even if someone did know how, it wasn’t like they’d go around sharing it freely.

Just look at Slughorn—Tom Riddle had been his favorite student, and even he had to charm and manipulate his way into getting the smallest bit of useful information from him.

But McGonagall didn’t seem to see it that way. Maybe it was because of her new position, but she had become noticeably… stricter.

“This is something Dumbledore should handle,” she said firmly, as if she’d made up her mind.

“Professor Dumbledore?” Kyle echoed, his voice rising slightly.

“His portrait in the Headmaster’s Office,” McGonagall clarified. “It’s time it paid a few visits to those old wizards who might know something. He’ll know exactly who to talk to.”

“All right,” Kyle said. Seeing that she had already made up her mind, he didn’t press the matter.

The former headmasters didn’t have much to do anyway—giving them a task or two couldn’t hurt.

Besides…

A sudden idea struck Kyle.

While McGonagall made her way to the library, he headed straight for the eighth floor.

“Ball of string!”

He spoke the password he’d just learned, and the stone gargoyle jumped aside at once.

Kyle ascended the spiral staircase and made his way into the Headmaster’s Office like he’d done it a hundred times.

Everything was just as it always was. The portraits lining the walls had their eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.

“It’s you, Kyle.” Dumbledore was the first to notice him. “How did the hearing go? Severus should be in the clear now, right?”

“Everything went smoothly,” Kyle replied, then shook his head. “Well, not exactly—there was a minor complication.”

His words seemed to serve as a signal. The headmasters in the portraits all opened their eyes, turning to look over with curiosity.

“At the hearing, part of Snape’s memories were shown—including the segment involving the Horcruxes…”

He gave a brief summary of Professor McGonagall’s concerns.

“Minerva is quite thoughtful,” Dumbledore nodded. “It’s true that few can resist the temptation of immortality. That’s part of the reason I never revealed how Tom was able to return.”

“But I think Kyle has a point,” said Armando Dippet, shaking his head. “Horcruxes aren’t potatoes—you don’t just pick up the technique overnight.”

“Still, it’s something we can’t ignore,” another headmaster added, siding with Dumbledore.

“There are no eternal secrets in the wizarding world. If someone is determined to dig deep enough, they’ll always find some clues.”

“That’s just speculation.”

“Can you say with certainty that it won’t happen?”

...

The headmasters each had their own opinions and were soon arguing loudly. A few hot-tempered ones nearly came to blows.

Armando, for instance, was chasing Phineas around with a spiked club after he contradicted him.

“So, Minerva wants me to persuade those who already know the truth?” Dumbledore asked, turning to Kyle.

“That’s right,” Kyle said. “But I have another idea.”

He pulled out a Self-Writing Quill and began jotting something down quickly on a piece of parchment.

“Oh?” Dumbledore’s interest was piqued at once.

In his memory, Kyle’s ideas were always unconventional—but effective. Like when he helped clear Sirius’s name, or when he got Fudge to change his stance on Voldemort.

It wasn’t just Dumbledore who was intrigued; both Armando and Phineas hurried back, peering curiously at Kyle.

Before long, the parchment was filled.

Kyle held it up and showed it to the headmasters.

“This is my summary of how to make a Horcrux.”

“What? You know how to make a Horcrux?” one of the headmasters shouted in alarm.

But almost immediately, someone noticed something was off.

“Wait a second—what is this?”

Armando narrowed his eyes. “Splitting your soul with the Cruciatus Curse? That’s complete nonsense!”

“And this,” Phineas said, nearly pressing his face against the edge of his frame, “If the soul fragment won’t leave the body on its own, try using the Imperius Curse on yourself? By Merlin’s beard, that’s suicide!”

“You must have written it wrong. This isn’t how you make a Horcrux!”

“Wrong? Of course not.” Kyle narrowed his eyes slightly and smiled. “This is how you make a Horcrux.”