Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 970: The Exam

When Kyle found Professor McGonagall, she had just escorted Professor Marchbanks back to her room.

In addition to dormitories, Hogwarts also provided guest accommodations.

The examiners from the Wizarding Examinations Authority visited every year, so they were already well acquainted with the castle and didn’t need a professor to show them around.

However, this was the first N.E.W.T. exam since Professor McGonagall had taken over as Headmistress, so Marchbanks had stopped by to chat for a while.

As soon as she saw Kyle, she hurried over.

“I heard from a portrait that you were looking for me?”

“Ah, yes,” Kyle nodded.

“Is something the matter?” Professor McGonagall asked, sounding genuinely unaware. It seemed the portrait hadn’t told her anything beyond the message.

“Someone rather unwelcome has arrived at Hogwarts,” Kyle said.

“Who?” Professor McGonagall asked casually, not particularly concerned.

This was Hogwarts—aside from Voldemort, there was no one they had reason to fear.

And Voldemort was already dead...

“Grindelwald,” Kyle said.

Professor McGonagall stumbled, her body jerking backward uncontrollably, and she took two shaky steps before Kyle quickly conjured a chair behind her, keeping her from falling.

She sank into the chair, her face turning pale before his eyes.

“Who... did you just say?”

“Grindelwald,” Kyle repeated. “He came to Hogwarts. He was in the Headmaster’s office. I just saw him off.”

“That’s impossible!” Professor McGonagall blurted out. “He’s been locked up in Nurmengard!”

“Funny—that’s exactly what Headmaster Dippet said.” Kyle shrugged. “Let me put it this way: what’s kept Grindelwald locked up all these years wasn’t some tower in Nurmengard—it was a person.”

Then Kyle recounted everything that had happened.

From encountering Grindelwald suddenly at the castle gate, to bringing him to the Headmaster’s office, and the plan they discussed afterward—he didn’t leave out a single detail.

Professor McGonagall remained silent, listening intently.

“Oh, right—I’ve got photos too.” Kyle patted his pocket. “I’ll develop them in a bit. Grindelwald looks quite a bit older, but for those of you who knew him, he should still be recognizable.”

Hearing that, Professor McGonagall twisted a handkerchief in her hands.

As someone who had lived through that era firsthand, she understood better than anyone just how terrifying Grindelwald had been.

In terms of name alone, Voldemort didn’t even come close—he wasn’t on the same level.

The only small comfort was that Grindelwald didn’t seem to have come to wage war on Hogwarts.

And from the sound of it, he and Kyle had reached some sort of agreement.

“This is... unbelievable. I need a moment to collect myself,” Professor McGonagall said, rising to her feet.

“Of course. I understand,” Kyle said. “Professor Dumbledore’s portrait knows the full story too. You can speak to him—he’s probably still in the Headmaster’s office waiting for you.”

Professor McGonagall left in a hurry.

Kyle returned to his cabin.

The first thing he did was retrieve the film, develop the photos, and soak them in the solution.

The entire process was smooth and practiced—clearly something he’d done many times before.

Before long, a stack of moving portraits featuring Grindelwald was complete.

As promised, Kyle assembled a new photo album and arranged the photos of Dumbledore and Grindelwald in sequence.

The Dumbledore photos had been supplied by Kyle himself—not exactly collector’s items, but still exclusive enough.

But when he turned to the final page, Kyle suddenly hesitated.

Only two photos remained in his hand.

In one, Dumbledore was proudly showing off the woolen gloves and socks he had knitted—Kyle remembered that moment vividly. It had been a few years ago, during Christmas, when Dumbledore first learned how to knit gloves.

At Christmas lunch, he had enthusiastically shown off his handiwork to the other professors, and a Ravenclaw student who stayed over the holidays had captured the moment on camera.

Kyle had later bought that photo for ten Sickles.

And its matching counterpart? A shot of Grindelwald, face twisted in distaste, hurling a woolen glove out the window.

Kyle thought the two images would make the perfect finale to the album—but at the same time, he worried that Grindelwald would fly into a rage if he saw them.

After all, it was Kyle who had suggested that pose. And with Grindelwald’s unpredictable temper, once he figured out the truth, he’d definitely come looking for trouble.

With Kyle’s current skill level... well, it wasn’t that he couldn’t win—it just wasn’t worth the hassle.

It was better for wizards to get along than to be flinging spells the moment they saw each other.

But... if Grindelwald never saw this pair of photos, wouldnʼt Kyle’s message be lost?

He sat there, conflicted.

It wasn’t until deep into the night that he finally made up his mind.

Just to spare Grindelwald’s feelings—as a centenarian, after all—Kyle reluctantly put away the photo of Dumbledore that had been on the table and replaced it with another: one of Dumbledore standing beside a giant ram.

Giant ram, wool, wool gloves... Hopefully Grindelwald would pick up on the hint.

He was brilliant, after all—surely he’d get it.

Kyle closed the album and went to bed.

The pressure Grindelwald had brought with him had finally lifted, and once he relaxed, Kyle drifted off quickly.

What he didn’t know was that the lights in the Hogwarts Headmaster’s office stayed on all night.

...

The next day marked the official start of N.E.W.T. exams for the seventh-year students.

As Headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall no longer needed to personally oversee the exams, but she still arrived punctually in the Great Hall.

From a distance, she looked perfectly composed, no different from usual. Only up close could one see the weariness in her eyes.

After breakfast, the students headed off to their exam rooms.

In a deserted corridor on the second floor, Professor McGonagall returned the photo album to Kyle.

“It’s him. It really is Grindelwald...” she said hoarsely.

He might have aged, but there was no mistaking him. The man who had once nearly brought the entire European wizarding world to its knees—Grindelwald—had returned.

“Professor, I don’t think we need to panic... at least not right now.”

Kyle thought for a moment, then added, “Grindelwald has come back, yes—but he’s no longer the same Grindelwald who wanted to dominate the wizarding world.”

“You sound just like Albus. That’s exactly what he said yesterday,” Professor McGonagall replied, glancing at Kyle.

“But he’s still Grindelwald. We can’t afford to do nothing based on a hunch.”

“I wouldn’t really call it a hunch...” Kyle said thoughtfully. “Yesterday, when we were talking about Horcruxes, I deliberately brought up Nurmengard. I wanted to draw him into helping us there.

“And he agreed without hesitation. That means he’s not planning to leave Nurmengard. I never gave a specific timeframe, so the only way he can assist whenever needed is if he stays put.

“But if he still intended to conquer the wizarding world, would he really choose to remain in Nurmengard?”

As Kyle spoke, he didn’t notice the shift in Professor McGonagall’s expression.

To her, his reasoning made a lot of sense.

Grindelwald was never the type to make empty promises. If he agreed to Kyle’s request, it meant he fully intended to be in Nurmengard when the time came.

But Grindelwald had been imprisoned there for nearly seventy years, surrounded by constant reminders of his defeat. If he were truly planning a return to power, that would be the last place he’d stay. He’d want to distance himself completely.

And that left only one explanation: Grindelwald had let go—he no longer cared.

Professor McGonagall found herself turning this over in her mind, even as her gaze fell on Kyle again.

The truth was, she hadn’t only just learned about Kyle’s conversation with Grindelwald—she’d already heard all of it from Dumbledore the day before, more than once, in fact.

But neither she, nor Dumbledore, nor any of the other former headmasters had realized that Kyle’s offhand mention of Nurmengard in his plan might carry so much meaning.

Well... maybe if Dumbledore were physically here, he’d have picked up on it. But there was only a portrait of him now in the headmaster’s office.

“Professor McGonagall... Professor McGonagall?”

Kyle’s voice brought her back to herself, and she realized she’d been lost in thought.

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Nothing. You just make a good point,” Professor McGonagall said, shaking her head. “I’m guessing your view is the same as Albus’s—that we shouldn’t report Grindelwald to the Ministry?”

“Exactly.” Kyle nodded. “From the looks of it, he’s probably just out stretching his legs. No need to turn it into a big deal.”

Professor McGonagall was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly.

“All right... I must be mad to agree with you two.”

In truth, she’d spent much of yesterday grappling with the question. She wanted to trust Dumbledore’s judgment as she always had—but the name Grindelwald wasn’t something she could ignore so easily.

And yet, Kyle’s words had helped her make a decision. Besides, the wizarding world really could use some peace right now.

“I only have one request.” She looked at Kyle and said seriously, “I want you to keep me informed—any updates about Grindelwald, I need to know immediately.”

“No problem.” Kyle agreed readily. At this point, the only thing left between him and Grindelwald was the Horcrux plan, which Professor McGonagall already knew about—there was nothing worth hiding.

“Good. Just don’t be like Dumbledore—he could keep a secret like no one else,” McGonagall muttered, unable to hold back a complaint.

“And I heard Vinda Rosier is supposed to come to Hogwarts. Is that true?”

“That... I’m not sure yet.” Kyle shook his head. “Grindelwald did say that she’d come to handle things with me later, but he didn’t say whether that would be before or after the school holidays.”

“Whenever it is, you mustn’t let your guard down. The moment you see her, tell me right away.”

McGonagall’s expression turned stern. “I’m not joking, Kyle. Vinda Rosier has done things even more frightening than the Death Eaters. She’s a ruthless and dangerously cunning witch.”

“I understand, Professor McGonagall,” Kyle said. “I’ve met her more than once before. I’ll be careful.”

“Good,” she said with a firm nod.

Just then, the previously quiet corridor suddenly came to life.

First came two elderly wizards, followed by a group of tense-looking seventh-year students.

“The N.E.W.T. exams are about to begin.” McGonagall instantly pushed all thoughts of Grindelwald aside. “I need to go find Professor Marchbanks. Remember what I said—if you run into Vinda Rosier, let me know immediately.”

With that, she hurried off.

Kyle paused a moment, then turned and headed downstairs, choosing not to linger in the castle.

Normally, Hogwarts professors were expected to assist the Wizarding Examinations Authority. Besides the all-important N.E.W.T. and O.W.L. exams, students in the other five years also had final assessments.

It was the school’s own professors who oversaw those five years’ worth of exams.

But Kyle was a special case… Mainly because the former Ancient Runes professor—who had done an exceptional job in certain ways—had never once administered an exam, and the exam authority had grown used to overlooking the subject entirely.

Now that Kyle had taken over the course, that “tradition” hadn’t changed.

At present, he didn’t have to take any exams, nor supervise any—making him quite possibly the most carefree person in the whole castle.

So he decided to take advantage of the time to polish up his photo album.

As he stepped outside the castle, he saw Hagrid out on the grounds, trying to separate a large group of Hippogriffs.

“Oh, the exams have started already, have they?” Hagrid waved enthusiastically at Kyle, then quickly grabbed hold of a restless Hippogriff.

“Bunch of proud little creatures...” he said, though his grin showed he was enjoying himself.

Before he ever met real dragons, these had been his favorite magical beasts… well, these and Fluffy, the three-headed dog, and Blast-Ended Skrewts.

“For the exam, I’m thinking of having them fly a lap around the school grounds. What do you think?”

“What year?” Kyle asked.

“Fifth,” Hagrid replied. “I was originally planning to save them for third-years, but Professor Marchbanks says they’re better suited for the O.W.L. exams.”

“I agree,” Kyle nodded. “That’s a good call.”

Hippogriffs were classified as XXXX-level magical creatures—just right for fifth-years.

In truth, there was already a well-established process for handling them. As long as students followed instructions, there usually wouldn’t be any problems. Even assigning them to third-years wouldn’t have been unreasonable.

Once the Hippogriffs were settled, Hagrid hurried back toward the Forbidden Forest.

He still needed to prepare for the other exam sessions—like the seventh-years’ Thestral handling.

That was considered one of the most predictable N.E.W.T. exam topics, and for this year’s graduating class, it would be easier than ever.

Because after the war against the Death Eaters, most of them could now see Thestrals.

Kyle glanced in Hagrid’s direction with a soft chuckle, then turned and headed back to his cabin.