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Chapter 657: Dumbledore’s Intuition and the Phoenix Secured
🕑 Added 2025-03-25 12:29:45 +0000 UTCThe news of Sirius's injury seemed to have been deliberately concealed by the Ministry of Magic. No one knew what had transpired that night, and not a single mention appeared in the newspapers.
The next day, however, Hogwarts bustled with its usual liveliness. Students eagerly discussed Christmas plans and holiday arrangements.
"What on earth is the Ministry thinking..." Cedric muttered angrily, putting down the newspaper at the Hufflepuff table. "Two people almost died—powerful adult wizards, no less. And their solution is to just ignore it?"
"Apparently, that's exactly what they’re doing," Kyle replied, calmly spreading orange marmalade on his toast. "That’s why I keep telling Professor Dumbledore he should run for Minister of Magic, but he refuses every time."
"Yeah, it would be brilliant if Professor Dumbledore became Minister," Cedric sighed.
Though Cedric believed Hogwarts couldn’t do without Dumbledore, the fact was, he’d be graduating next year. Who the headmaster was would no longer matter to him personally, and he secretly wished Dumbledore would take up the role of Minister of Magic.
"Let’s change the subject," Kyle suggested, shaking his head. "If you want Dumbledore as Minister, the only way is for Voldemort to become headmaster of Hogwarts. So... what are your plans for the holidays?"
"Cho and I are visiting Sirius at St. Mungo’s," Cedric replied, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "After that, we’re heading to Diagon Alley. Fred and George have picked out a shop there, and I’m going to help them set it up."
"Join the Weasley joke shop?" Kyle asked, surprised. "But didn’t you want to join a professional Quidditch team after graduation? If I remember right, the Montrose Magpies even sent you a tryout invitation recently."
"That’s true," Cedric said calmly. "But I just can’t convince myself to leave England right now. I can join a professional team anytime, but this isn’t the time for it."
He shrugged. "Fred and George need an extra hand, so it’s a good way to stay occupied in the meantime."
"Are you sure?" Kyle asked, looking at him intently. "That’s an amazing team, and opportunities like this don’t come often."
"They already have a top-notch Seeker," Cedric replied nonchalantly. "Even if I passed the tryout, I’d only end up as a reserve. Waiting a few years won’t hurt."
Cedric’s tone made it clear his mind was made up. After finishing his explanation, he steered the conversation in a different direction.
"Kanna, what about you? What are your holiday plans?"
"I’ll probably stay at school," Kanna replied. "There’s nothing waiting for me at home anyway. Plus, I want to try for the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers next year, so I’ll use the holidays to catch up on potions reading."
"And you, Kyle?" Cedric asked, turning back to him.
"I haven’t decided yet," Kyle said with a shrug.
"Why not come with us to visit Sirius?" Cedric offered, glancing briefly at Kanna before adding, "Although... you seem like you’d prefer to stay at school."
"Those two things don’t have to contradict each other," Kyle replied with a grin.
If he stayed at Hogwarts, he could always ask Professor Dumbledore for a Portkey to 12 Grimmauld Place and head to St. Mungo’s from there. Or, more straightforwardly, he could simply take the Knight Bus.
Which option to choose would depend on whether Dumbledore was at the school during the holidays. If the headmaster was available, Kyle would much prefer the convenience of a Portkey.
After all, the Knight Bus was far from a comfortable ride.
...
After breakfast, the group left the Great Hall and headed to class.
The first class for sixth-years was Potions, and Kyle and Kanna arrived at the dungeon on time. But strangely, Snape was late. It wasn’t until twenty minutes after the lesson was supposed to start that he pushed open the dungeon door, his face gloomier than ever.
This was highly unusual.
During the lesson, Snape’s temper was terrifyingly short. Even minor mistakes, such as slicing ingredients too thickly, were met with scathing reprimands. The oppressive atmosphere left everyone too scared to speak a word.
When class ended, Snape didn’t wait for the bell to finish ringing before stalking out of the room.
By the time Kyle stepped into the corridor, there was no trace of him.
"What’s gotten into him?" Kyle asked Kanna curiously. "Could his cauldron have exploded while brewing a potion?"
"I doubt it," Kanna replied, shaking her head. "Professor Snape has never failed to prepare a potion."
"Strange," Kyle muttered. "Maybe Professor Dumbledore asked him to take care of Sirius at St. Mungo’s during the Christmas holidays."
Kyle chuckled at the thought. The image of Snape fussing over Sirius was absurd. If such a thing ever happened, it would undoubtedly lead to a massive argument at St. Mungo’s.
Still, he didn’t dwell on it. Snape being irritable was normal—him being cheerful would’ve been far more suspicious.
However, it wasn’t just Snape who seemed out of sorts. Kyle soon noticed Harry behaving unusually as well.
Since returning from St. Mungo’s, Harry had been pretending everything was fine, likely to avoid drawing Umbridge’s attention. But recently, he had grown uncharacteristically quiet, and within a few days, his temper started flaring.
According to Hannah, Harry had even had a huge argument with Snape during Potions class and had been thrown out.
This was very unusual. While Harry could be impulsive, he rarely argued with teachers during lessons. Whenever he tried, Hermione and Ron usually intervened to stop him.
But this time was different. According to Hannah, not even the combined efforts of Hermione and Ron had been enough to restrain him.
Curious about the cause of Harry’s change, Kyle decided to visit Gryffindor Tower.
But Fred informed him that Harry hadn’t been in the dormitory for days—not even at night.
"He hasn’t run away from school, has he?" Kyle asked with a frown.
"Of course not," George said, shaking his head. "I think he’s been staying in the Room of Requirement."
"The Room of Requirement?" Kyle repeated, puzzled. "Why would Harry stay there instead of his dormitory? Did he have a fight with Ron?"
"It’s not Ron," Fred explained as he led Kyle into an empty corridor. "It’s... mostly because of us."
Fred went on to explain that, three days ago, they’d included a special little invention in the letters they sent to their family—an upgraded version of Extendable Ears.
"We disguised it as a blank piece of parchment," George added. "Since it was our letter, Mum didn’t check it."
"She probably just left it lying around after reading it," Fred said.
"Which worked out perfectly for us," George said. "It let us eavesdrop on one of their conversations."
"And Harry happened to be there," Fred continued, looking regretful. "He’d been down about Sirius, so we thought listening in might distract him or cheer him up."
"It didn’t," Kyle guessed.
"Not at all," George sighed, lowering his voice. "The conversation turned out to be about Harry. Mum said something about Harry being able to connect to You-Know-Who through his dreams—and that You-Know-Who could do the same."
Kyle frowned. "Mrs. Weasley actually said that?"
"Absolutely," Fred confirmed. "Harry heard every word. That’s why he left the dormitory. He probably feels like... I don’t know, like a weapon that could harm people at any moment."
"He didn’t even want to go to class anymore," George added sadly. "Professor McGonagall had to drag him back. If we’d known this would happen, we’d never have asked him to listen in."
They had only wanted to lift Harry’s spirits, but their plan had backfired horribly. Instead of cheering him up, they had made him feel even worse.
After hearing the story, Kyle decided to head to the corridor where the Room of Requirement was located.
However, when he arrived, he spotted Hermione and Ron already there, looking frustrated. Realizing that even Harry’s closest friends couldn’t reach him, Kyle decided not to try.
If Hermione and Ron can’t get through to him, there’s no way I will, he thought.
As he left the area, Kyle reassured himself that Christmas was coming soon. Surely Sirius would be able to cheer Harry up during the holidays.
...
Finally, Christmas arrived.
The day before the holiday, the Great Hall was transformed. Twelve towering Christmas trees adorned the space, their branches sparkling with ornaments, and the enchanted ceiling glittered with falling snowflakes and stars. Everyone was in high spirits, eagerly anticipating the festivities—everyone except Kyle.
After dinner, Dumbledore summoned him to the Headmaster’s Office.
When Kyle arrived, he found Dumbledore alone, dressed in his usual pajamas, seated behind his desk.
He’s not going somewhere again, is he? Kyle wondered, noting the headmaster’s somewhat preoccupied demeanor.
However, Dumbledore’s first words quickly dispelled any assumptions Kyle might have had.
“What? You want me to teach Harry Occlumency?” Kyle blurted, taken aback.
“Yes, you heard me correctly,” Dumbledore replied calmly. “Harry needs to learn this technique to protect his mind from outside interference.”
“I would have taught him myself, but I’m... preoccupied,” Dumbledore admitted, gesturing to a small mountain of letters piled on his desk. “These require my attention daily. I barely finish reading them before I go to bed.”
“So you want me to teach him?” Kyle asked.
“Not quite. I want you to assist Professor Snape,” Dumbledore clarified. “Harry’s Occlumency lessons began two days ago.”
Kyle thought back—two days ago was when Snape had arrived late to Potions class.
“It’s not going well, is it?” Kyle asked tentatively.
Dumbledore coughed lightly. “Harry hasn’t exactly adapted to Professor Snape’s teaching style...”
That was putting it mildly. In reality, Harry and Snape were fundamentally incompatible. However, there was no alternative—Harry’s ability to protect his mind from Voldemort’s intrusion was critical. Occlumency was the best method, and time was of the essence.
To that end, Dumbledore had arranged for Snape to train Harry immediately after their return from St. Mungo’s. Unfortunately, the lessons were already a disaster.
Snape had chosen to teach Harry by directly using Legilimency, forcing Harry to block the intrusion instinctively. But in his desperation, Harry had instinctively rebounded the spell back at Snape.
For a brief moment, Harry glimpsed some of Snape’s private memories. Though it only lasted seconds, it was enough to embarrass and enrage Snape.
The session ended in a furious argument, with no progress made.
Dumbledore now hoped Kyle could mediate.
“You’re also proficient in Occlumency,” Dumbledore said. “Your presence could help defuse tensions and improve the lessons. At the very least, it might prevent another argument like last time.”
“I’m just getting started with Occlumency,” Kyle protested. “I don’t think I can be much help.”
He had no desire to take on this responsibility. Occlumency wasn’t something one mastered overnight, and if he agreed, it would derail all his plans for the holiday.
Moreover, Kyle believed Snape was capable, if harsh. Putting pressure on Harry now might actually help him learn faster.
But Dumbledore ignored his attempt to decline.
“You’re being far too modest,” Dumbledore said, shaking his head. “There are few I know who are as naturally adept at Occlumency as you—better even than some seasoned wizards.”
“You’re joking, Professor,” Kyle said firmly. “Professor Snape is far more skilled than I am. If even he can’t get through to Harry, what difference could I possibly make?”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled, though he didn’t argue the point. Instead, he tried another angle.
“Think of it this way—helping Harry could lift his spirits. You’ve seen how withdrawn he’s been since his last dream. Don’t you want to see him recover?”
Kyle hesitated. Dumbledore had a point—helping Harry might be worth the effort. But something still felt off. Comforting Harry seemed better suited to Hermione or Ron, and teaching Occlumency was Snape’s domain.
“Besides,” Kyle said softly, grasping for another excuse, “I have to keep an eye on the Basilisk. I can’t afford distractions.”
Dumbledore’s expression flickered for a moment, but he quickly recovered.
“Fawkes can handle that,” he said with a smile.
Kyle knew when he was beaten. “Alright, it’s settled then,” he said quickly, as though afraid Dumbledore might add more conditions. “I’ll go find Professor Snape right away.”
Without waiting for a reply, Kyle grabbed Fawkes, who had been dozing on a perch, and left the office.
Startled awake, Fawkes blinked blearily at Kyle, then at Dumbledore, before burying his head under a wing.
The door slammed shut behind them with a loud bang.
“What a cunning boy,” Phineas Black’s portrait remarked, smirking. “The lad made that condition on purpose. You knew that, didn’t you?”
“I’m not a fool, Phineas,” Dumbledore said, returning to his desk and picking up one of the many letters.
He had, of course, understood Kyle’s implied condition. If the Basilisk truly required constant supervision, Dumbledore would never have allowed Kyle to bring it to Hogwarts in the first place.
But he had his reasons for assigning Kyle this task.
Helping Harry was one goal, but the greater reason was to keep Kyle occupied during the holidays. Dumbledore trusted his intuition, and it told him that if Kyle were left to his own devices for two weeks, he would undoubtedly find a way to stir up trouble—most likely involving Dumbledore himself.
And as the holiday drew closer, that feeling only grew stronger.
