Hogwarts: I'm Truly a Model Wizard

Fred and George didn't even sit down to eat their breakfast properly, simply grabbing a few slices of bread before leaving the table. It seemed they were in a hurry to post their letter before class.

Harry, Ron, and Neville exchanged puzzled glances. Truthfully, none of them really knew what Fred and George were up to.

They didn't have time to think it over, though, as Professor McGonagall began handing out the class schedules along the Gryffindor table.

"Kyle, you're just in time," she said as she handed Neville the last timetable. "Professor Sprout would like to see you. If you've finished breakfast, come with me."

"Yes, Professor," Kyle replied, finishing his last sip of lemonade and standing up to follow Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall.

If his guess was correct, Professor Sprout wanted to speak with him about the Time-Turner. After all, the first class of the new school year was about to start, and he should have received some information by now.

Moreover, he had already picked up his class schedule from the common room before breakfast. The first class for third years was Care of Magical Creatures, held at the same time as Divination by Numbers… Both classes started at 9:00 a.m.

...

After leaving the dining hall, Professor McGonagall didn't lead Kyle up to her office as he'd expected, but instead took him out of the castle and across the grounds. There, near the Whomping Willow, Professor Sprout was carefully tending to the tree.

The poor Whomping Willow had lost several branches after being accidentally hit by two careless boys the day before, and Professor Sprout was wrapping the damaged limbs with special potions and bandages. Kyle noticed that, even in its injured state, the Whomping Willow was anything but still—it swung its branches in restless agitation, almost knocking a passing owl out of the sky. Fortunately, the owl was small and quick enough to escape with only a few lost feathers and some frenzied flapping.

Curiously, despite the Whomping Willow's usual aggressiveness, it wasn't attacking Professor Sprout. She moved freely among its branches, carefully working with a practiced ease that only she seemed to possess. But she wasn't the only professor present—Gilderoy Lockhart was also there, keeping his distance, a good ten meters from the tree, and loudly calling out advice.

"If I were you, I wouldn't bother with that... far too troublesome," he declared grandly. "Oh, Pomona, that's much too difficult for you, but as it happens, I know a brilliant charm that mends broken branches perfectly! Yes, yes, that's exactly what I was about to teach you—imagine, we both know it!"

Lockhart's incessant chatter only darkened Professor Sprout's expression. If he'd been standing closer, she might have wished the Whomping Willow would give him a "friendly" embrace. What a nuisance!

At that moment, Professor McGonagall arrived with Kyle.

"Oh, Minerva, how lovely to see you!" Lockhart called, striding over.

"The pleasure is all mine, Professor Lockhart," Professor McGonagall replied dryly, then raised her voice toward the tree. "Pomona, are you nearly done? I've brought Kyle."

"Just one more bandage," Professor Sprout answered, hastening her pace.

Meanwhile, Lockhart had turned his attention to Kyle, eyeing him with an intrigued expression. "Wait, you're the youngest person ever to be honored with a Order of Merlin?"

"Yes, Professor Lockhart," Kyle nodded politely.

Lockhart's face lit up, his gleaming white teeth catching the sunlight. "We should have met before! Remember Flourish and Blotts, when you came to buy my book? You were just too shy to approach me."

At this, Professor McGonagall arched a brow, casting a discreet sidelong glance at Lockhart. Kyle—shy? The idea was laughable. This was the same boy who had faced a Dark Wizard alone, defied a Werewolf, and sneaked past the massive Three-Headed Dog. Shy was about as far from Kyle's character as she could imagine. She'd sooner believe that Fred and George were model students.

Then, a memory flickered in her mind—an article from The Daily Prophet showing a bewildered Harry at some recent event. If her hunch was right, Kyle had been there too but had made himself scarce before he could be photographed. Professor McGonagall's lips twitched slightly, betraying the faintest hint of a smile.

Lockhart, however, was too busy basking in his own imagined significance to notice.

"I'm also a recipient of the Order of Merlin and have had a close encounter with a Werewolf myself," Lockhart said, giving Kyle a hearty pat on the shoulder. "You're quite lucky to have achieved something so noteworthy at such a young age."

"Kyle's Order of Merlin had nothing to do with luck," Professor Sprout interjected as she approached. "He saved an entire hospital ward full of patients."

"Yes, yes, commendable indeed," Lockhart replied, straightening the gold-braided trim on his top hat. "I, too, have saved countless lives during my travels, though I hardly ever mention it."

Yes, you haven't mentioned it… except in every single one of your books, Kyle thought silently.

Lockhart, oblivious to the silent skepticism around him, continued speaking to Kyle. "I trust you've read my book Wanderings with Werewolves, where I describe no fewer than fifteen techniques for handling Werewolves."

"Professor, I think it was seventeen," Kyle said, blinking innocently. "Did you forget?"

"Seventeen..." Lockhart hesitated briefly but maintained his cheerful expression. "Ah, well, yes—there are two methods that are just too dangerous, which I wouldn't recommend for most wizards... Clearly, you've studied my work closely. Very good! Which house are you in?"

"Hufflepuff."

"Hufflepuff, then… ten points to Hufflepuff!" Lockhart declared happily. "You're well on your way to becoming an internationally acclaimed wizard, like me. Of course, you've accomplished a fair bit already, though it doesn't quite compare to winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five years in a row! But that's only the beginning. Why, when I was thirteen, I was a little more ordinary than you are now."

Professor McGonagall, listening from a few steps behind, couldn't help but twitch slightly. The Most Charming Smile Award—more impressive than the Order of Merlin?

She wondered how he could even say that. For an award like that, she'd have to think twice even if offered a mountain of Galleons. If her colleagues saw her winning that sort of title, they might think Hogwarts had failed to pay her salary!

Just then, a group of students emerged from the castle doors, including Harry, Hermione, and Ron, heading toward the greenhouses for their first Herbology class of the day.

"Ah, I must be off," Lockhart said, giving Kyle another pat on the shoulder. "By the way, although I was just demonstrating some techniques for Professor Sprout to use on the Whomping Willow, don't get the impression that I'm more proficient in Herbology than she is! I just happened to have encountered a few unusual plants on my travels..."

"And where was that, Professor?" Kyle asked suddenly, a spark of curiosity in his eyes. "I've always wanted a willow of my own, but both Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Sprout won't let me transplant one here. But if they're growing wild somewhere, then I suppose I could bring one over myself."

"Ah, well, that would be a rather far-off place…" Lockhart hesitated, then continued smoothly, "And you'd probably be disappointed, as those willows are also the private property of others. They're quite protective of them, I assure you."