Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard
Chapter 824: The Mysterious Unspeakable

“Hey, kid, what are you doing back here again!”

On the second floor of the Hog’s Head, Aberforth’s portrait glared at Kyle in annoyance. “You haven’t forgotten, have you? Taking up space here still costs money.”

“Of course—fifty Galleons, ten times the rate. Professor Dumbledore will cover it,” Kyle said with a weary sigh.

He’d been kicked out by Professor McGonagall.

If he hadn’t called out her true intentions, maybe he could’ve stayed at Hogwarts by playing dumb. But he had, and McGonagall had openly admitted it—she didn’t want him staying at the school.

As the person truly in charge of Hogwarts, McGonagall’s will was final. If she didn’t want him there, then no matter how many excuses he made, there was no staying.

She even went so far as to use one of the school’s secret passages to quietly send him out of Hogwarts without alerting anyone... which was why he now found himself at the Hog’s Head.

The exit to that passage was right here; the entrance, in the Room of Requirement.

It must have been Dumbledore who told her about it... so she could use it to evacuate students if Hogwarts ever faced a crisis.

McGonagall’s meaning was crystal clear: she intended to use the Time-Turner to save Dumbledore herself—not let Kyle go.

And the best way to guarantee that was to secure the most important item first... the Time-Turner.

In fact, everything she’d told Kyle earlier had been true.

She really had visited Nicolas Flamel’s estate when she was young.

Back then, Dumbledore had just become Headmaster of Hogwarts. Probably thrilled, he took a few of the professors he had high hopes for to Devon during Lady Perenelle’s 600th birthday celebration.

Alongside McGonagall had been Professor Sprout.

As it turned out, Dumbledore had a good eye—both of them went on to become Heads of House.

Professor Flitwick was supposed to go too, but had to skip the trip because of a scheduling conflict with a dueling tournament.

And Slughorn, Head of Slytherin... well, he’d gotten drunk at a dinner party the night before and missed the departure entirely.

To this day, Slughorn still groans and smacks his leg in regret every time he thinks of it—not that it’s ever stopped him from continuing to host dinner parties and drink himself under the table.

Of course, Kyle didn’t know any of this.

Upstairs, Aberforth’s portrait was still ranting. Kyle shot him a glance and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me there was a secret passage here that leads to Hogwarts? If I’d known it was this easy, I wouldn’t have bothered going through all that trouble to turn myself into an owl.”

“Would’ve been pointless,” came Aberforth’s voice from behind him, along with the sound of footsteps.

At some point, he had come up to the second floor and was now standing behind Kyle, eyeing him closely.

“The passage you just used is one-way. In other words, it can only be opened from the Hogwarts side. This place is just the exit—you can’t get in through here.”

“Is that so? Then I misunderstood.” Kyle scratched his head and started heading for the door.

“Hold up,” Aberforth suddenly called after him.

“What is it?” Kyle turned around.

“Your Headmaster—Dumbledore—he...” Aberforth hesitated, mouth half-open. Then he shook his head. “Forget it. It’s nothing. Get out of here already.”

He turned and headed back down the stairs.

“Well, that was weird,” Kyle muttered.

He walked to the window and looked toward the Shrieking Shack.

A new shop had opened nearby—an ice cream stand. A balding middle-aged man sat beside it, showing zero interest in attracting customers. Even when someone approached, he barely reacted, lazily scooping a massive spoonful of ice cream and slapping it carelessly into the cone.

Aside from the huge portions, everything else was a mess compared to the ice cream shop in Diagon Alley. The appearance, especially, was atrocious. The scoops were neither round nor square—just vaguely lumpy, like something a dog had chewed on.

That had to be Sirius.

Frankly, his attempt at staying undercover was laughable. Even if Kyle had known nothing, he would’ve pegged him as suspicious in an instant.

If you’re going to work, at least take it seriously. Who runs a business like this? Making proper ice cream isn’t even hard...

And then Kyle saw the customer hand over a silver coin, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

One Sickle—for a scoop bigger than a fist. No wonder business was still good despite the abysmal service.

But could a shop like that actually make money?

Kyle only watched for a moment before he couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped away from the window and Disapparated from the Hog’s Head.

...

Now that staying at Hogwarts was no longer an option, Kyle needed to find something to occupy himself. He decided to return to St. Catchpole Village first.

Chris had already left for work at the Ministry of Magic and wasn’t home.

Kyle settled onto the sofa, poured himself a cup of black tea, and began to reflect on everything that had happened recently.

Strangely, he didn’t feel the least bit worried that Professor McGonagall might get hold of the Time-Turner before he did—even though she had clearly made thorough preparations.

Something about the whole situation felt too convenient, too coincidental. And then there was Nicolas. He seemed to know something as well. What exactly was the point of that “juice” Kyle had drunk...?

He pondered this as he sat there, but having stayed up all night, his body now relaxing in the comfort of home, his thoughts soon grew hazy—and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep on the sofa.

It was a deep sleep, and Kyle didn’t wake until noon.

Though it had only been a few hours, he felt as if he’d slept the whole day—every trace of fatigue wiped away. The only discomfort was a numbness in his arm, as if it had been crushed by a car.

Turning his head, Kyle groggily lifted the plump Kneazle sprawled across his arm and tossed it aside. Then he stood up and shook out the stiffness in his limbs.

Chris still hadn’t returned, so Kyle rummaged up a few slices of bread and some roasted ham, slapped together a quick sandwich, and called it lunch.

He really did miss his time at Beauxbatons. Whatever else could be said, at least the food there had been excellent.

After eating, Kyle stepped outside.

He had decided to make a trip to the Ministry of Magic.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that, in the end, the task of going back in time to save Dumbledore would fall to him—regardless of how carefully Professor McGonagall had arranged things.

But he also remembered that both Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin had warned him never to touch a Time-Turner.

And now, because of Dumbledore, he might have no choice but to use one.

In a situation like this, Kyle wanted professional advice.

The first person who came to mind was Diana, who worked in the Department of Mysteries.

All existing Time-Turners were stored there, and no one knew more about them than the Unspeakables. Maybe she could offer him some guidance.

So off he went.

Once he’d gotten dressed, Kyle headed straight to the Weasleys’ house next door.

After politely declining Mrs. Weasley’s generous offer to stay for lunch three times, he finally made it into the fireplace and used the Floo Network to travel to the Ministry of Magic.

He arrived just in time to catch Chris in the corridor outside the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—Chris had been about to head out.

“Kyle...” Chris looked surprised. “What are you doing at the Ministry?”

“Dad,” Kyle said directly, “I need to talk to Mum. Can I go to the Department of Mysteries?”

“The Department of Mysteries… I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Chris replied, frowning. “Is it something important?”

“It’s about something I might need to do soon,” Kyle said. “I’d say it’s fairly important.”

“Then you’d better start thinking of another way,” Chris said, shaking his head. “That door to the Department of Mysteries has been locked for quite a while now. No one but an Unspeakable can open it.”

“Not even you?”

“Not even the Minister for Magic,” Chris said. “The Department of Mysteries is completely independent from the Ministry. You could even say they’re unrelated. They just happen to be housed in the same building.”

“So once that door is sealed, only the Unspeakables can open it.”

“I see...” Kyle looked a little disappointed.

“But... it’s not entirely hopeless,” Chris said after a moment’s thought. “I remember they left one Unspeakable outside the department—someone meant to keep tabs on the outside world. If you can find that person, they might be able to pass a message along for you.

“Your mother has a good relationship with the other Unspeakables. If you tell them who you are, they should be willing to help.”

“Is that person... in the Ministry?” Kyle asked.

“No idea,” Chris replied, shaking his head. “No one knows where that Unspeakable is—not even whether it’s a man or a woman. Their identity is completely confidential.”

“But,” he added, “I think you’ve seen that person before.”

“The night of Lupin’s wedding!” Kyle blurted out.

That night, after Kyle had brought everyone back from the Hog’s Head, he’d run into Chris, who had come to check on things—along with an Unspeakable in a black hooded cloak at his side.

According to Chris, that person had come on Diana’s behalf to assess the situation. Once they confirmed Kyle was safe and unharmed, they vanished without a word.

It was the only time in recent years that Kyle had encountered another Unspeakable besides Diana—and he remembered it clearly.

“Yes, that was the one,” Chris nodded. “I ran into him in the lobby at the Ministry. If he—well, let’s just say he for now—if he didn’t come there specifically to find me, then it likely means he’s based in the Ministry already.”

“After all, if the Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries want to gather information, the Ministry of Magic is the best place to do it.”

“You could try your luck. Start in the atrium, then take the lift to Level Nine, where the Department of Mysteries is. If you do that enough times, you might draw their attention.”

With that, Chris glanced at the arriving lift and hurried toward it, Kyle following close behind.

“Sorry, I probably can’t go with you,” Chris said.

“No problem, I can manage on my own,” Kyle replied. He glanced at Chris. “What’s going on now? Another case of someone’s magical creature getting loose?”

“Worse than that,” Chris sighed. “Something’s stirred up the Hebridean Black Dragons. Lately, they’ve gotten more and more aggressive. A few of them even crossed into other dragons’ territories and got into serious fights.”

“You-Know-Who?” Kyle asked reflexively.

With something this abnormal, his first thought was always the same: You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters. And even if it wasn’t them, he wouldn’t feel bad blaming them.

“Doesn’t seem like it...” Chris thought for a moment, then shook his head. “If it were You-Know-Who, he’d be trying to recruit or threaten the dragon handlers on the Hebrides—bring the dragons into the Death Eaters to expand his forces. Just like he did with the giants.”

“Actually, Newt’s already uncovered part of the reason. According to him, the black dragons have been reacting to a sudden surge of magical energy nearby. That’s what’s making them so agitated.”

“That’s strange...” Kyle murmured. “Why would there be a magical surge in the Hebrides?”

Unlike other fire-breathing dragons, Hebridean Blacks were highly sensitive to magic. Even something as simple as a Lumos charm could be seen as a threat.

That’s why they could only be kept on the Hebrides, looked after by generations of dedicated dragon keepers. And to ensure safety, magic use was strictly prohibited in the area.

Kyle couldn’t imagine who would be reckless enough to cast spells in a place like that. A strong magical surge—something like a large-scale spell—could provoke dozens of black dragons into attacking.

And these weren’t just any dragons—they were the most magic-resistant kind. Even Dumbledore would have no choice but to flee if he ran into a pack of them.

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Kyle asked, concerned. “Want me to come with you?”

“No need,” Chris waved it off. “Newt’s already there, and so is Mr. Lima—you remember him? You met him at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary.”

“The Monster Book of Monsters guy?”

“That’s him,” Chris said. “He wrote it. So really, there’s nothing you could do to help even if you came.”

The lift reached the atrium, and they stepped out.

Chris glanced around. “No luck... I don’t recognize the person from that night either. But keep trying—sooner or later, you might catch their attention.”

“Alright,” Kyle nodded.

Chris quickly left, and Kyle headed back into the lift and rode it up to Level Nine again.

It looked the same as before—bare walls, no doors, no windowsills.

Kyle walked to the end of the corridor. There should have been a black door there, but it was gone, leaving nothing but a smooth, empty wall.

No wonder Chris said no one could get in. Without a door, there was nothing to open.

Kyle spent some time poking around, but got nowhere. No one appeared to meet him, either.

Left with no choice, he returned to the atrium, circled the area once, and then went back up.

He repeated this five times, and finally, on the sixth trip to Level Nine, someone was there.

A figure in a black hooded cloak, perfectly blended with the surroundings. When Kyle first spotted them, he was so startled he jumped—he hadn’t noticed when they appeared.

“Are you... an Unspeakable?” Kyle asked softly, eyeing the figure closely.

He had a theory—maybe it was Dumbledore in disguise. The role of an Unspeakable would make the perfect cover, hiding him from everyone.

But that idea quickly faded. Judging by the figure’s build, this was definitely a witch. No way it was Dumbledore...

She didn’t speak, but gave a slight nod in response.

“That’s great,” Kyle said with relief. “You recognize me, right? We’ve met—back at Grimmauld Place.”

She nodded again. But this time, she spoke. “You’ve come here five times. What do you want?”

Just as Kyle suspected, the voice beneath the hood was that of a witch—hoarse, whether naturally or deliberately disguised, he couldn’t tell.

Still, he wasn’t bothered by that. He blinked at her in surprise. “You knew I came five times?”

“I’m aware of everyone who steps onto Level Nine.” She shifted slightly to the left, her cloak flowing like water as it seamlessly blended into the wall.

“Then why didn’t you come out sooner?” Kyle asked, exasperated. “You made me run back and forth six times.”

“If you’d just asked out loud if anyone was there, you wouldn’t have had to repeat it so many times,” she said. “I thought you were here for exercise.”

“Who exercises by riding a lift...” Kyle muttered under his breath.

One thing was clear—this definitely wasn’t Dumbledore. He was never this cheeky.