Hogwarts: I'm Truly a Model Wizard

Slughorn wanted to bury the events of the day and pretend nothing had happened, but that was clearly impossible.

In some ways, the effects of a Love Potion were not much different from the Imperius Curse—both could make a person act against their will. The only difference was that the Love Potion had an antidote and was therefore not illegal.

But Slughorn was a professor at Hogwarts. If he had been manipulated into doing something under its influence, the consequences could have been unimaginable.

So when Professor McGonagall sent word of what had happened, Dumbledore returned to the school without delay.

Meanwhile, Kyle and Kanna were summoned to the Hospital Wing again.

As they crossed the courtyard, they ran into Harry and Ron, who had just come down the stairs.

"What a coincidence," Harry remarked. "Did Dumbledore call you too?"

"Obviously," Kyle replied.

"So the Headmaster is finally going to punish Romilda Vane?" Ron was practically vibrating with excitement, unable to stand still. "I went to see her today, but instead of apologizing, she accused me of stealing food!"

His frustration was evident as he waved his arms, yanked a handful of branches from the nearby bushes, and flung them back as if each one represented Romilda Vane herself.

Kyle glanced at him, and after a moment's thought, he realized that Romilda wasn't entirely wrong. Her original target had been Harry, after all, and Ron had inadvertently ruined her plan.

Something about that felt a little… off.

But there wasn't time to dwell on it. The group soon arrived at the Hospital Wing.

The atmosphere inside was heavy. Dumbledore stood in silence, his expression unreadable.

Professor McGonagall and Snape were there as well, assisting Madam Pomfrey in examining the unconscious figure lying on the hospital bed.

Madam Rosmerta.

Like Ron and Slughorn earlier that day, she too was in a coma. But unlike them, Kyle wasn't sure whether her state was the result of a Stunning Spell.

Harry and Ron both stiffened at the sight, taken aback by the seriousness of the situation. Seeing that no one else was speaking, they remained silent and stood to the side.

Not long after, the doors opened again.

Slughorn had arrived—his voice preceding him before he had even entered the room.

"Albus…" His words slurred slightly, the remnants of alcohol still affecting him. "I already told you, it was Rosmerta who gave me the Love Potion. If you have questions, just ask her—"

He stepped inside and came to an abrupt halt. His gaze fell on Madam Rosmerta lying motionless in the bed, and for a moment, his tongue failed him.

"What's going on?" His voice wavered slightly. "She must know she can't escape punishment. She's just pretending…"

"So you're saying she used the Imperius Curse on herself to avoid consequences?" Snape said slowly and deliberately as he straightened up. "With all due respect, that would be a far worse punishment than simply using Amortentia."

Slughorn flinched, his face paling slightly. His drunken haze seemed to lift in an instant.

"What did you say?" His throat tightened. "Imperius Curse?"

"Yes," Snape confirmed, his expression as cold as ever. "And from our prior examinations, she has been under its influence for at least three months."

"Three months…" Slughorn echoed, his confusion evident. "What is going on?"

"That," Dumbledore finally spoke, his voice calm but firm, "is what we would very much like to find out."

He turned slightly—not toward Slughorn, but toward Ron. His piercing blue eyes settled on him as though he had just noticed his presence.

"Oh, Mr. Weasley, I hadn't realized you were here."

Ron straightened, suddenly feeling like he was under a spotlight. "Yes, sir," he muttered.

"Just as well," Dumbledore said, his gaze steady. "Can you recount what happened this morning? I'd like every detail, without omission."

Ron hesitated for a moment, then took a breath, trying to recall everything as clearly as possible.

"It was like this… I was picking up my presents, and I accidentally mixed up a box that had rolled under Harry's bed."

He frowned slightly as he pieced it together.

"It was a box of Chocolate Cauldrons—Romilda Vane's Christmas gift for Harry. But I thought it was meant for me… No, I mean, I thought Harry had given it to me as a present."

His face twisted slightly at the realization.

"So I opened it and took a bite… And it had Love Potion in it… And then Harry brought me here. That blasted Romilda Vane!"

"No, Ron, we went to Professor Slughorn's office first," Harry corrected from the side.

"Oh, right," Ron said quickly, nodding. "That's right."

…

Ron spoke intermittently, with Harry filling in the gaps.

Dumbledore listened attentively until they finished, then gave a small nod and turned to Kyle and Kanna.

"Is that right? You met on the eighth floor?"

"That's right," Kyle confirmed. "We were looking for a quiet place to brew the potion."

"Why didn't you brew it in the dungeon?" Snape interjected suddenly, narrowing his eyes at Kyle with obvious suspicion.

"There's a magical room there, much better than the gloomy atmosphere of the dungeon," Kyle shrugged. "Dumbledore should know."

Kyle wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but he had the distinct feeling that Snape's expression had grown even more unpleasant.

"Yes," Dumbledore acknowledged at the right moment. "That is remarkable. I'd wager that ninety percent of the students don't even know about it. I'm surprised you found it."

Snape seemed to accept this explanation and stepped aside without another word.

"Well, that settles it, doesn't it?" Dumbledore concluded. "Mr. Weasley's incident was just a misunderstanding, and Madam Rosmerta had no involvement. If anything, she was experiencing the same thing as Horace at the same time."

"You may go back," Dumbledore added with a warm smile. "The kitchen is preparing peppered pork cutlets today—you wouldn't want to miss them."

Ron immediately moved toward the door. The atmosphere here was too stifling, and he had been eager to leave for some time.

"Kyle, stay a moment," Dumbledore suddenly said, stopping Kyle just as he was about to follow the others. "I have a few more questions for you."

With nothing else to do, Kyle could only shrug at Kanna before stepping back into the room.

Dumbledore, however, had already turned his attention to Slughorn.

"Horace, can you tell us now?"

"What do you want to know?" Slughorn asked, settling onto the nearest bed. "First of all, I must say—I had no idea she was under the Imperius Curse, nor did I know what she was planning to do."

"I don't believe it was Madam Rosmerta herself who wanted to harm you," Dumbledore said, "but rather, whoever was controlling her. Have you noticed anything different about her lately?"

"Different?" Slughorn frowned, considering. "I can't say I noticed anything unusual, but if I had to point out something, she did seem… overly eager."

"Eager?"

"Yes," Slughorn nodded. "I remember—this was the day before Christmas—I had run out of drinks and needed to get more."

"Even though the shop was packed, she kept talking to me... She had never been that persistent before."

"But I didn't think much of it at the time. I assumed she was interested in the ball I was hosting. After all, quite a few people were attending that night, including the Minister for Magic. It only made sense that she would be curious, wouldn't it?"

"Cornelius Fudge?" Dumbledore frowned. "I don't recall him seeking me out on Christmas Day."

"Not you—Kyle," Slughorn corrected. "I had previously announced that Kyle would be attending the ball. However, plans changed, and once Fudge learned that Kyle wouldn't be there, he left rather quickly."

With everyone's attention shifting to him, Kyle simply shrugged. "I don't know anything about that."

At that time, he had already been at Nicolas's manor and had no idea Fudge had come to the school looking for him.

But Dumbledore didn't seem concerned about that.

"So, what did you and Madam Rosmerta discuss?"

"Not much," Slughorn mused. "Just the guest list for the ball… Oh, yes, before I left, she asked me what gift I was planning to give you and strongly recommended the aged honey mead from her shop."

"But I recall you gave me red currant rum as a gift," Dumbledore noted.

"Yes, the Minister brought it—it was quite aged as well," Slughorn said. "So I told her I already had a gift for you but that I would buy the mead for myself."

"The one in your office?" Professor McGonagall inquired.

She recalled Harry mentioning that Slughorn's office contained little more than steaks, preserves, and half a glass of mead.

"No, Minerva, the bottle of aged mead that Rosmerta mentioned was broken just as she was about to give it to me," Slughorn said with a sigh. "I regretted it for a long time."

"That is a real pity," Dumbledore remarked, raising an eyebrow.

But no one present was foolish enough to miss his meaning.

It was clear that someone had intended for Slughorn to give the bottle of mead to Dumbledore as a Christmas present. There must have been something added to it, and when they realized that Slughorn had already prepared a gift in advance, they had to find a way to destroy the bottle to prevent their plan from being exposed too soon.

Snape sneered from his spot nearby.

Slughorn's face flushed an even deeper shade of red, though, fortunately for him, the alcohol he had consumed earlier masked his embarrassment.

"And then what happened?" Dumbledore asked, his voice calm, as though the matter did not concern him in the slightest. "And what about the Love Potion?"

"It happened yesterday," Slughorn said, glancing at the nearby hospital bed. "I went to ask her if she had any new aged mead, as I usually do."

"Of course, she didn't. And just as I was about to leave, she suddenly gave me a Crystallized Pineapple—said it was a new dessert she was working on."

"Since I had mentioned before that my favorite combination was mead and Crystallized Pineapple, I assumed she had taken my advice."

A long silence settled over the room.

Dumbledore lowered his head slightly, deep in thought.

Snape's lips twitched, and finally, he could hold back no longer. "Didn't you notice that the candied fruit was the wrong color?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"You don't understand, Severus," Slughorn stammered. "Because everyone makes them differently, the color of the preserves varies. That's normal."

Snape had no response to that. He merely sneered again and turned his gaze away.

Outside, the sky had darkened, and rain had begun to fall, the rhythmic sound of raindrops tapping against the window filling the silence.

"Albus, do you know who did this?" Professor McGonagall asked, stepping forward.

"I will find out," Dumbledore murmured, then turned his attention back to Kyle. "When you were at The Three Broomsticks last time, did you notice anything different about Madam Rosmerta?"

"She seemed normal—nothing strange… at least, not that I noticed," Kyle replied. "Or you could ask someone else. Ron, for instance—he was much more interested in staring at Madam Rosmerta than at his own glass."

Unless they had been given a specific task—like delivering the sweets to Slughorn this time—a person under the Imperius Curse showed no obvious signs of control.

That was why, more than a decade ago, so many Death Eaters had managed to escape scrutiny by claiming they had been under the Imperius Curse. Even with enough skill, even an Auror wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

"Why not ask Rosmerta herself?" Slughorn asked doubtfully. "She should know who instructed her."

"We already did," Dumbledore replied. "She knew nothing. The person never showed themselves, and when we were about to question her in more detail, she fainted from exhaustion."

"In that case… well…"

Silence fell once more.

Outside, the rain grew heavier, drumming insistently against the windows.

Fearing that students might witness something they shouldn't and cause unnecessary trouble, Madam Rosmerta had been sent to St. Mungo's.

Snape left as well. Dumbledore called after him, but Snape ignored him entirely, disappearing into the corridor without a backward glance.

"He didn't hear that?" Kyle asked tentatively, glancing in the direction Snape had disappeared.

Snape going against the headmaster… that was rare.

"No, he heard," Dumbledore replied, his expression complicated. "We just have our differences on certain matters. If this weren't such a serious issue, he wouldn't even show his face in my presence…"

"Differences?" Kyle muttered, but wisely refrained from pressing further when he noticed Dumbledore's increasingly complex expression.

The two returned to the Headmaster's Office.

Dumbledore waved his hand, and a steaming pork chop, some toast, and a bowl of corn soup appeared on the table—clearly meant for Kyle.

Without hesitation, Kyle sat down and took a bite of the pork chop before looking up. "Malfoy was the one who used the Imperius Curse on Madam Rosmerta, wasn't he?"

"I believe so," Dumbledore said. "And only a Hogwarts student could have lulled the owners into such a state of complacency."

"So he's turned his attention to you this time?"

"I'm glad he did," Dumbledore said lightly, as if being targeted for assassination didn't bother him in the slightest.

"But Mr. Malfoy seems to have made a miscalculation," he continued. "Horace wouldn't just give away a bottle of aged honey mead to anyone. And the reason he gave me the red currant rum was simply because he didn't like it himself."

"That's true," Kyle nodded, continuing to eat his pork schnitzel while thinking over everything that had happened.

Based on the available information, it wasn't hard to deduce that Malfoy's initial plan had been to target Dumbledore. He had used the Imperius Curse to control Madam Rosmerta, instructing her to sell a particular bottle of mead to Slughorn, who would then pass it along to Dumbledore as a gift.

It was a well-planned scheme, one that would arouse no suspicion.

The only problem was that Malfoy hadn't expected Slughorn to have already prepared a gift in advance. The bottle of red currant rum Fudge had sent turned out to be the perfect alternative, and with that, the plan had failed before it could even begin.

When things didn't go as intended, Malfoy had to come up with another approach.

Which led to what happened this morning.

"He probably wants Horace to assassinate me within the castle," Dumbledore said calmly. "As a professor and an old colleague of mine, Horace still has plenty of opportunities to do so—if he truly wished to."

Kyle glanced at Dumbledore, not entirely convinced.

Dumbledore had barely been at school lately. Seeing him was difficult enough, let alone killing him.

If anyone was an easier target, it would be himself.

Kyle narrowed his eyes. The thought wasn't entirely impossible.

"Perhaps in Mr. Malfoy's eyes, you are a far greater threat than I am," Dumbledore remarked suddenly, pulling Kyle back to the present.

Dumbledore poured himself a cup of black tea. "But I must say, he has made a mistake."

"Letting Slughorn drink the Love Potion at school?" Kyle asked.

"No," Dumbledore shook his head. "He chose the wrong person."

"Horace is not skilled in combat, but he is a master of potions. The Love Potion's effects may work for a short time, but it cannot control him for long—an hour at most."

Dumbledore was being conservative with his estimate.

Kyle had no reason to doubt him.

"What are we going to do next?" he asked. "We can't let him keep doing this forever."

Dumbledore didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked up at one of the portraits on the wall.

"So far, the map has not changed," one of the witches in the portrait reported. "We've been keeping watch."

"It seems he is not planning to act immediately," Dumbledore said in a low voice. "Could it be that he has yet to locate the other Vanishing Cabinet?"

"No, he's already found it," Kyle replied. "Over Christmas break, the house-elves who help out at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes saw Malfoy go into Knockturn Alley."

"I stopped by on my way back from Nicolas's estate and checked Borgin and Burkes. The cabinet there is identical to the one at school—right down to the size and markings."

Dumbledore's eyes lit up.

"That is truly wonderful news," he said, rising to his feet. "You never cease to amaze me. But why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"Professor, did you forget that I came to see you after the holidays?" Kyle said slowly. "Twice."

Dumbledore looked momentarily sheepish. "There's no way around it—there are always emergencies." He quickly changed the subject. "Alright, Kyle, you may go back for now. I need to think this over carefully."