Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 978: Improvements to the Horcrux

By evening, Kyle stepped out of the Black family’s private library, leaving behind Sirius, who stood there dazed, clearly wanting to say something but unable to.

All afternoon, Sirius had looked visibly conflicted—especially while Kyle flipped through books on dark magic.

These were the Black family’s collection spanning hundreds of years, many of them explicitly banned by the Ministry of Magic.

Put simply, even glancing at some of these covers could land you two days in Azkaban.

Sirius had never gotten around to disposing of them—now Kyle had taken the whole lot.

He hesitated countless times as Kyle walked toward the door, wondering if he should ask for the books back.

He didn’t doubt that Kyle could make a Horcrux. Years ago, Kyle had requested something similar and taken Secrets of the Darkest Art from the same collection.

Honestly, if Kyle couldnʼt make a Horcrux, that would be the surprising part. What worried Sirius was the possibility that Kyle actually would.

Back then, he’d assumed Kyle was joking about it—especially since Dumbledore had still been alive when Kyle first came looking for that book.

But now... it didn’t seem like a joke.

And yet, every time Sirius tried to bring it up, the words caught in his throat.

Maybe... Kyle really was joking.

That was what he told himself to feel better.

...

“Hey, Kyle.” As he passed through the hallway, Fred flipped off the staircase and landed beside him.

“We’ve been looking for you. Where were you just now with Sirius?”

“The Black family’s private library,” Kyle replied, showing them the books in his arms.

“Typical Hogwarts professor,” George drawled, “Still studying even on break. Are you sure you’re not Percy under Polyjuice Potion?”

“I doubt Percy would read books like these.” Kyle lifted the top one and waved it slightly.

The title was written in elaborate calligraphy across the old cover:

Putting the Soul in the Crucible

The cover looked worn, but the deep red script hadn’t faded one bit. Not a speck of dust clung to it, and something seemed to slither across the letters—drawing the eye in a strange, unsettling way.

George, being closest, suddenly felt a chill and involuntarily shivered.

It was summer. And yet… he felt cold.

“What is that thing?”

“I’d guess a banned book,” Harry chimed in.

He didn’t seem caught up in the whole Snape situation anymore, coming down the stairs with the others—though he was limping, clearly having bumped his leg.

“I’ve seen books like that in the Restricted Section at school,” Harry said seriously. “Some had moving covers, some were chained up—you could tell just by looking that they were dangerous.”

“Some even screamed like Mandrakes when you opened them.”

“But this isn’t the Restricted Section,” Fred muttered, glancing up at Kyle.

“Ah, I’m planning to try making a Horcrux, so I was gathering some reference material.”

“What?”

“You want to make a Horcrux?”

“You want to make a Horcrux!”

Just like Sirius, everyone froze in stunned disbelief at Kyle’s words.

But unlike Sirius, after the initial shock, Harry’s face filled with panic and fear—while Fred and George lit up with pure excitement.

“We’ll help!”

“Whenever you start, please—you have to let us know!”

Like two shooting stars, they zipped to Kyle’s side in the blink of an eye. They were even being unusually polite.

“Uh… we’ll see,” Kyle said vaguely, waving them off. “Didn’t you say you’d been looking for me all afternoon? What’s so urgent?”

“Oh, that? Nothing important,” George said, eyes still locked on Kyle, not blinking once.

“This doesn’t seem like a good thing,” Kyle muttered, instinctively taking a step back.

“So what? We never do good things.” They stepped forward, each grabbing an arm and dragging Kyle out the front door.

...

Only after the door slammed shut did Harry suddenly snap out of his shock and move as if to chase after them.

“Wait…” Sirius reached out to stop him.

“Horcrux… Sirius…” Harry said anxiously. “Dumbledore said it’s the darkest kind of magic—we can’t let Kyle…”

“Calm down, Harry... Kyle isn’t like Voldemort,” Sirius said, gripping Harry’s arm tightly.

Hearing that, Harry gradually settled, turning to look at him.

“Do you know something?”

“Oh, right—I just remembered, you two have been together this whole time.”

“He hasn’t said a word to me.” Sirius shrugged. “Honestly, ever since I took him down to the basement, I’ve been feeling exactly the way you did earlier.”

“Then why did you stop me just now…”

“Because of Fred and George,” Sirius said quietly. “If you think back to what they said, you’ll notice—they never once doubted Kyle. From the very start, they didn’t think he was making a Horcrux for the same reason Voldemort did.”

Harry blinked and recalled Fred and George’s reactions.

It was true. They hadn’t panicked—they were excited, even. It was as if making a Horcrux was something fascinating, not some horrifying branch of dark magic.

“It reminds me of Remus.”

Sirius suddenly laughed. “Most people instinctively fear and avoid werewolves. But the first time we saw Remus in his werewolf form, none of us flinched.”

“I didn’t, your dad didn’t—and even your mum, after she found out, didn’t shy away. The very next day, she started learning to brew Wolfsbane Potion herself—and complained that Remus hadn’t told her sooner.”

Harry nodded slowly, still unsure. “So you’re saying we should trust Kyle, like Fred and George do?”

“More or less.” Sirius waved a hand and poured himself a glass of Firewhisky.

“What I mean is—we knew Remus. We knew that even as a werewolf, he’d never hurt us.”

“And the Weasley twins know Kyle. They know he’s not going to become another Voldemort.”

“Of course, you’re not wrong either,” he added, sinking into a chair and taking a sip. “I should be ashamed of my own doubts.”

Harry felt a bit ashamed too.

He couldn’t help wondering—if it had been Hermione or Ron in Kyle’s place, would he have felt the same fear and unease?

To his surprise, the answer was no.

After everything they’d been through together, he trusted Hermione and Ron nearly as much as he trusted himself.

He believed Hermione would never do such a thing—and that Ron couldn’t even manage to make a Horcrux if he tried.

Even reading a forbidden book took a solid foundation of knowledge—probably more than normal books. Take Most Potente Potions from the Restricted Section, for example. Only Hermione had been able to make sense of it.

He and Ron had bungled every step.

A book about Horcruxes would surely be even more complex.

...

Harry shook his head.

All that made sense—but he still couldn’t talk himself around as easily as Sirius had. Not after seeing the memories Dumbledore had shown him.

So he just tried to push the thoughts aside.

Sirius, seeing his hesitation, spoke up. “I remember that Snivellus dropped off a photo album. Have you looked at it yet?”

“Not yet.” Harry blinked, snapping back to the present. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a well-preserved album.

It wasn’t very thick—maybe an inch at most—and the cover was green, almost the exact shade of his eyes.

Oh.

Harry frowned. Why had he suddenly thought of that?

“You haven’t opened it?” Sirius looked surprised. “You do realize—it might have pictures of your mum.”

“I… I know.” Harry’s expression turned a little strange.

Snape giving him photos of his mother… something about it just felt off.

“I was worried he had some other motive,” Harry murmured. “Or that he might’ve slipped in some weird potion. Back at school, Snape kept threatening to spike my pumpkin juice with Veritaserum.”

“Don’t worry. Dumbledore would never allow that,” Sirius scoffed. “And besides… I don’t think you need to worry anymore.”

“I still don’t like Snivellus—but I believe he was being honest this time. No reason for him to mess with the album.”

“Go on, open it. It’s fine.”

Encouraged by Sirius, Harry took a deep breath and carefully opened the album.

Nothing happened.

He saw a very young witch—probably a first-year—her red hair fluttering in the wind, and a pair of bright, beautiful green eyes.

“That’s what your mum looked like when she was little,” Sirius said from beside him. “Though, back then, she really didn’t like James.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Harry’s mouth...

...

At the same time, after Fred and George dragged Kyle out of 12 Grimmauld Place, they brought him back to the attic of his house in St. Catchpole Village.

This was something of a secret base for them... a place for tinkering with less-than-official creations.

Kyle had also been conducting his Horcrux research here over the past few days.

”Come on, Kyle, let us join you...”

”We swear we won’t tell anyone...”

The attic door creaked open, and Fred and George stepped inside together—only to freeze the moment they turned their heads.

There was someone else in the attic who looked exactly like them.

He was missing an ear, looked just like Fred, but also had a few of Georgeʼs subtle features—as if he were a blend of the two.

Only... this person was dead, lying motionless on the floor.

”Riddikulus!”

As the twins stood stunned, Kyleʼs voice rang out behind them.

The figure on the floor—whether Fred or George—suddenly ballooned in size, transforming into a gnome wearing a wig.

“A Boggart. I found it in the cabinet up here,” Kyle said as he entered, using his wand to trap the Boggart in a bottle and giving it a shake.

The gnome twisted into a formless, ugly-colored blur—like a distorted memory.

“What the hell did we just see?”

“Naturally, it was what you fear most. You’re both afraid of the other being killed,” Kyle said.

“Is that so?” George pursed his lips. “But I didn’t really feel scared just now.”

“Exactly,” Fred nodded. “I was more surprised than anything.”

“That’s because you looked up at the same time,” Kyle explained. “The Boggart didn’t know who to focus on, so it combined your fears.”

“That’s why each of you saw something that resembled yourself, and the initial fear turned into confusion.”

“Fine, I’ll give you that,” George said, nodding with mock seriousness.

Kyle ignored him, still staring at the Boggart in the bottle.

The twins moved in closer again.

“Kyle, let us help you make a Horcrux. We promise we won’t say a word.”

“Yeah, we swear on Cedric’s integrity.”

“He ran out of integrity a long time ago,” Kyle muttered without turning.

Horcruxes might be dark magic, but they were also, in a way, a branch of alchemy... albeit an unrecognized one.

After all, Nicolas Flamel had removed Horcruxes from alchemy ages ago—and no one had ever challenged that decision.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that at their core, Horcruxes were a form of alchemy. It made perfect sense that Fred and George would be interested.

“It’s not that I don’t want to bring you in—and I’m not worried about you spilling anything,” Kyle said, turning to face them. “But I’ve been researching Horcruxes since second year. Sure, I’ve taken breaks, but I never stopped. Are you really sure you want in?”

Fred and George fell silent.

“Horcruxes... they’re that complicated?” Fred muttered.

“What do you think?” Kyle snapped. “You think it’s like slicing up a cake? Just cut a piece and toss it onto another plate?”

“I...” George started to say something, but nothing came out.

Because, honestly, that was more or less how they’d imagined it. Maybe not that crude, but they’d never expected it to take so much time.

“But I heard you say Voldemort figured it out pretty quickly when he was young.”

“That’s different,” Kyle replied. “He was working with his own soul. As long as he followed the steps, it didn’t take much. But I’ve made a few... modifications to the Horcrux process.”

“What kind of modifications?”

Kyle didn’t answer. Instead, he simply opened the bottle in his hand.

The Boggart slithered out, glanced at Kyle, and immediately shifted into the form of a Dementor.

“Avada Kedavra!” A beam of blue light shot from Kyle’s wand.

Fred and George rubbed their eyes, thinking they’d misseen it.

Wait a second... the Killing Curse—blue?

Did they mishear the incantation?

But that wasn’t even the most surprising part.

The “Dementor,” after being struck by the curse, didn’t just fall—it split. Not cleanly in two, but into two smaller, identical Dementors.

Kyle tried to move one of them with his wand, but the moment he did, it exploded. Both of them did, like punctured balloons, turning back into the shapeless Boggart form.

“As you can see,” Kyle said, “I’m preparing to help someone else make a Horcrux.”