Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Compared to daytime, Diagon Alley was far less pleasant at night. Once the shops on either side had closed, the interplay of cold moonlight and flickering yellow lamps gave the street an eerie, unsettling feel.

Horlick and his group walked briskly along the road—two in front, three behind—subtly forming a loose circle around Kyle, as if to prevent him from slipping away.

Kyle had noticed their intentions, of course, but feigned ignorance. He even urged them on, sounding impatient.

"How much farther? Aren't we there yet?"

"Just ahead," Horlick replied, glancing back.

He turned a corner and led them into a narrow alley.

Kyle stopped, hesitant. "Are you sure this is still part of Diagon Alley?"

"Of course. I promise," Horlick said in a low voice. "This is the back street of Diagon Alley, also called Knockturn Alley."

"I've never heard of it."

"That's because… well, this is where the shopkeepers go to rest," Horlick explained. "They stay in their shops during the day and come back here at night. There's probably nothing worth seeing here, which is why no one told you."

Knockturn Alley is the shopkeepers' dormitory?

Kyle let out a cold laugh… Did they really expect him to believe such nonsense?

The others must have realized how flimsy the excuse sounded too, because they instinctively stepped closer to Kyle.

"I see."

A moment later, Kyle nodded and stepped forward. "Then hurry up. Don't waste time."

"No problem." Horlick flashed a smug, scheming smile and resumed leading the way.

At this point, Knockturn Alley was filthier than it would be even a century later. Strange, bone-like objects were strewn across the path, and the air was thick with a suffocating stench of decay.

"This is really where the shopkeepers rest?" Kyle muttered, casting a Bubble-Head Charm on himself, and asked again.

But this time, no one answered.

They had entered an even narrower, gloomier alleyway. Horlick came to a halt, and the others quickly closed in, surrounding Kyle with practiced coordination.

"Wasn't easy, getting you here," Horlick said, turning to glare coldly at Kyle.

"Getting me here... what do you mean?" Kyle's voice was low and muffled. "Aren't you afraid I'll hire those shopkeepers to kill you?"

"Afraid? Sure," Horlick said, though his mocking gaze said otherwise. "But they won't come here. Knockturn Alley is our turf. Those shopkeepers may be greedy, but they know the difference between Galleons and staying alive."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kyle narrowed his eyes. "Forget it. Just give me the black dragon egg. This place is disgusting."

"Haha... hahahaha..." Horlick suddenly laughed. "Sure, here you go..."

He picked up a random stone from the ground and handed it to Kyle. "But we've decided to raise the price. It'll cost you 10,000 Galleons."

"Are you insane... for a rock?"

"No, this is the dragon egg."

"And if I refuse?"

"That's fine. After we kill you, we can take our time searching your body." Horlick and the wizards around him moved in again.

Maybe they were convinced victory was theirs, or maybe they didn't see Kyle as a threat, because none of them drew their wands. They just stood there with smug expressions, like hunters toying with already-captured prey.

"You want to kill me?"

"Smart. Why else would we bring you here? Did you really think we wanted to make a deal?" Horlick laughed even harder. "Why don't you scream? Try calling for help."

"Ah, help..." Kyle muttered with deliberate indifference.

The act only enraged Horlick.

"You're scared—why aren't you scared!"

"I hate people like you," he shouted, drawing his wand. "Always acting so superior." His tone grew darker. "No matter. Let's see if you can keep that same… revolting expression under the Cruciatus Curse."

"What a shame," Kyle sighed.

"For you, it definitely is."

"No, I mean, I thought I could get another dragon egg." Kyle shook his head. "What a waste of time. Well, goodbye."

"Hah, you think you can still leave—"

Thunk!

Before Horlick could finish, a jagged stone spike shot straight through his chest.

The spikes had emerged from the wall beside them—five of them in total, each one perfectly aligned with a member of the group.

Luckily for them, the spikes missed any vital organs. They were still alive.

"Transfiguration..." Horlick coughed, blood trickling from his mouth. "You... didn't have a wand... when..."

"Just basic transfiguration. Why would I need a wand for that?" Kyle said casually.

"I underestimated you..." Horlick forced himself forward, breaking free from the stone spike. "But too bad. You should've aimed for our hearts."

"Attack!" he barked, raising his wand at Kyle. "Avada—"

But no one joined in.

Horlick suddenly noticed that, at some point, Kyle's suitcase had popped open.

It must have happened when the stone spikes struck—after all, Kyle had been holding it up until then.

Horlick had been keeping an eye on that suitcase the whole time, since it was one of his main targets.

Then, he saw a pair of orange eyes.

"Thump... thump..."

There were no screams. One by one, the figures collapsed to the ground, as if they'd simply fallen asleep.

Silence returned to the alley.

A few minutes later, Kyle emerged, carrying a bag, ready to leave Knockturn Alley.

He had originally believed Horlick truly had a Hebridean Black dragon egg—that was the only reason he'd agreed to come along. But it turned out to be nothing more than a lure.

In hindsight, it made sense. For centuries, Hebridean Blacks had only ever been sighted in the Hebrides Islands. He'd never heard of them appearing anywhere else. And a group like that? They didn't seem remotely capable of smuggling out a dragon egg.

Still, even though he'd suspected this might be the case, Kyle couldn't help feeling a little disappointed.

He stepped around a patch of oddly colored mud and made his way toward the mouth of the alley.

Just then, a figure hurried in his direction.

The person wore a black cloak, but Kyle recognized him instantly.

Dumbledore… of course, a younger Dumbledore.

When Kyle had first arrived here, it had been during the end-of-term exams. Since then, he'd spent quite a while in Diagon Alley. By now, Hogwarts should have already gone on break.

As Kyle looked over, the man noticed him too.

"Oh, you're that... sixth-year Hufflepuff," Dumbledore said, sounding a bit surprised—and faintly uneasy. "What are you doing in Knockturn Alley at this hour? Are you in trouble?"

"No," Kyle shook his head. "I was heading to Gringotts and must've taken a wrong turn."

"At this hour? Gringotts is probably already closed."

"Yeah, they shut the doors just after I came out," Kyle replied.

"Well, that's good. Still, you should get out of here quickly. This isn't exactly a safe place." Dumbledore seemed distracted, and deliberately avoided meeting Kyle's eyes.

Then, unintentionally, his gaze drifted past Kyle to the alley behind, where several people lay sprawled on the ground. "What happened to them…"

"No idea. Maybe they were tired," Kyle said with a glance over his shoulder. "I noticed them too, but I didn't dare get too close."

"You did the right thing," Dumbledore said. He didn't seem to think it strange at all that wizards might be sleeping on the street in Knockturn Alley and didn't question it further.

"Need any help?" Kyle asked cheerfully.

"No need. I'm just here to pick up a few things." Dumbledore shook his head, his tone suddenly more rushed. "The regular shops are closed at this hour, so I thought I'd try my luck in Knockturn Alley."

Kyle noticed his hand had subtly shifted toward his pocket—right where a wand could be drawn in an instant.

Trying to keep something from me?

"In that case, best of luck." Kyle didn't press further.

Dumbledore let out a quiet sigh of relief, nodded, and walked past Kyle, continuing deeper into Knockturn Alley.

Kyle headed toward the entrance without looking back, making his way into Diagon Alley once more.

The previously dim street was now lit by a sudden burst of light coming from a magical goods shop.

Kyle had visited this place before. It sold all kinds of items with unique properties—things like Bezoars for neutralizing poison, or crystals for dispelling dark magic curses.

But he distinctly remembered the store had been closed when he first passed by on his way to Knockturn Alley. Why was it suddenly open?

The shopkeeper was yawning as he prepared to shut the door again. As Kyle approached, he could hear him muttering under his breath: "Bloody kid… bangs on the door late at night… doesn't buy a thing…"

But the moment he saw Kyle, the man's expression changed instantly—from irritation to delight.

"Oh, sir, what a pleasure to see you." He opened the door warmly. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Since Kyle never gave his name when shopping, most of the shopkeepers around here just referred to him as "sir."

"Just browsing." Kyle stepped inside and casually picked up a blue crystal.

"That's a voice storage stone—it captures sound and can play it back automatically with just a little magic."

"Not bad. I'll take it." Kyle set it on the counter, then asked casually, "Funny, I could've sworn the shop was closed when I passed by earlier. Do you stay open late?"

"Not usually," the shopkeeper said with a smile. "I was actually about to close when some student showed up—had to be from Hogwarts. Banged on the door like mad, wanting to buy something."

"Oh? What did he buy?" Kyle asked, curious.

"Nothing," the shopkeeper said, sounding annoyed. "Wandered around for a bit, then left. Said we didn't have what he was looking for."

"Ridiculous. Everyone in Diagon Alley knows I carry the widest range of goods—I've even got amulets that can deflect the Killing Curse."

He gave a pointed glance toward a necklace on prominent display. "Want one? It's a lifesaver—only fifty Galleons. No one who's used it has ever complained… and this is the last one."

Kyle stepped over to take a look, then quickly lost interest.

It was obviously nothing more than an object enchanted with a Repelling Spell—at best, it could scare off weak dark creatures like Red Caps or Kappas. If it came up against an actual Killing Curse, it wouldn't be worth a Knut.

As for whether anyone had fallen for it… well, once they realized they'd been duped, they probably wouldn't have the chance to come back and argue with the shopkeeper.

Still, Kyle had no intention of calling him out. After wandering around the shop for a bit longer and picking out two small items, he paid and left.

The owner warmly saw him out before shutting the door again.

Kyle strolled down the street, turning over the shopkeeper's words in his mind.

If he was right, the person who had knocked on the door earlier was likely Dumbledore. It seemed he'd been looking for something, couldn't find it in that shop, and so had gone to Knockturn Alley instead.

But what exactly was Dumbledore looking for? Whatever it was, it had driven him to search late at night.

The first thing that came to Kyle's mind was Ariana—Dumbledore's sister, the young girl widely believed to be a Squib.

That would explain why Dumbledore had seemed so flustered earlier.

The illustrious Dumbledore family harboring a Squib was not something he'd want others to find out.

Kyle also remembered that, early on, Dumbledore hadn't been particularly fond of his sister—especially right after he graduated.

He'd seen Ariana, who needed constant care, as a shackle keeping him—the freshly graduated, ambitious young wizard—trapped in the tiny village of Godric's Hollow, unable to go anywhere or pursue anything.

Of course, Ariana wasn't really a Squib. She was an Obscurial.

An Obscurial, simply put, was a young witch or wizard who had repressed their magic. Without proper guidance or release, that magic turned into something else.

It became a formless, chaotic force of dark magic called an Obscurus.

Obscurus were incredibly destructive, and their hosts—often physically fragile—could barely contain the power. Ariana was one of the rare few to survive beyond the age of ten.

But that also meant she had to live with the pain it brought, constantly. Perhaps tonight, her Obscurus had flared up again, and Dumbledore had been forced out to find a solution.

Maybe it was time for Kyle to go to Godric's Hollow himself.

Though he still hadn't received word about his other dragon egg, Kyle didn't feel like waiting around anymore.

He returned to the Leaky Cauldron and got a full night's rest. The next morning, he checked out of his room.

First, he made a quick trip back to Diagon Alley and found the same shop.

Last night, Horlick had mentioned the owner's name—Willie Tom. Kyle wasn't sure if he had any connection to the future owner of the Leaky Cauldron.

Maybe not. After all, "Tom" was a very common name in England. But it was the first time Kyle had seen it used as a surname.

As expected, the "Closed" sign still hung in the window, and the shopkeeper hadn't returned.

However, the street—especially near the entrance to Knockturn Alley—was now filled with robed wizards in specialized uniforms. Judging by their movements, they were likely Aurors or Hit Wizards.

"The Ministry's this fast at responding now?" Kyle frowned.

He recalled the shopkeeper mentioning last night that Horlick had some sort of powerful figure backing him.

One thing was clear: he couldn't stay here any longer.

Even though Kyle was confident he'd left no trace behind, it was still safest to leave as soon as possible.

He had become far too conspicuous in Diagon Alley—an unknown wizard throwing around Galleons. No way someone like Horlick wouldn't have had his eye on him.

Once the Aurors started digging, they would definitely come looking for him. Even if they had no proof, Kyle had no interest in getting entangled with the Ministry of Magic—not now.

He turned back toward the Leaky Cauldron. On the way, he casually plucked a strand of hair from a passerby, dropped it into a vial, gave it a shake, and slipped into a nearby bookstore. Using the tall bookshelves for cover, he downed the Polyjuice Potion.

When he emerged again, he had transformed into a completely unremarkable, middle-aged wizard.

With calm confidence, Kyle walked back through the Leaky Cauldron and onto a secluded street. He raised his wand.

At the street corner, two lanterns blinked on, and with a sudden rush of air, a gleaming double-decker bus screeched to a stop right in front of him.

"The Knight Bus—emergency transport for witches and wizards in trouble!" came a cheerful voice from inside.

"Sir, how can we help you?"

"I need to go to Godric's Hollow," Kyle said. "How much?"

"One Sickle," the conductor beamed. "And for just one more, you can get a Butterbeer."

"No thanks," said Kyle as he boarded the bus. He grabbed a handful of Knuts, counted them twice, and handed them over.

The conductor didn't seem the least bit annoyed by his careful counting and instead enthusiastically led him to an empty seat.

"Next stop, Godric's Hollow!" she called loudly toward the front of the bus.

The headlights flashed—and with a whoosh, the double-decker bus vanished down the street.