Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 670: Tonks’ Concealment and Disguise Course

When they returned to the Changing Rooms, the cheerful atmosphere remained.

“I guess Davies must have been faking his illness,” Mikel said excitedly. “He knew Ravenclaw had no chance of winning this match, especially with Kyle riding a Firebolt.”

“Don’t say that,” Cedric replied, shaking his head as he changed into his robe. “Harry Potter from Gryffindor also has a Firebolt, and he’s a Seeker too. If Roger Davies were truly afraid of losing, he’d probably just quit the team entirely. Besides, Cho mentioned yesterday that Davies was knocked off his broom by a Bludger. I doubt Madam Pomfrey would release him so quickly.”

“Okay…” Mikel muttered, shivering slightly at the thought.

Back in his first year, Mikel had seen firsthand how firm Madam Pomfrey could be. If she decided Davies wasn’t fit to play, not even Professor Flitwick could change her mind.

“Alright, let’s go,” Cedric said with a smile. “How about a party in the common room tonight? This is our first win of the year—it definitely calls for a celebration.”

The team eagerly agreed and left the Changing Rooms in high spirits.

The castle itself seemed to share their joy. The match had lifted the shadow that had been hanging over Hogwarts in recent days. Conversations shifted away from the ominous silence surrounding You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. Instead, students began focusing on their upcoming Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

Thanks to rumors spread by the sixth years, most of the school knew the new Instructor had arrived.

“I hope this new Instructor can actually teach us something,” Hannah said in the common room later. “I’m so tired of endless copying and reciting. It’s barely past Christmas, and I’ve already spent a Galleon more on parchment than last year. At this rate, I won’t even have enough money left for my allowance.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Cedric said. “From what I’ve heard, she’s the complete opposite of Umbridge.”

“You know the Instructor?” Hannah asked, looking intrigued.

“Well,” Cedric nodded, “she was in seventh year when I first enrolled, but she was already training to be an Auror and was often away from school.”

“So, what was she like?” Mikel asked curiously. “Was she like you? If she was chosen as an Auror in her seventh year, she must’ve had amazing grades. I bet she earned at least ten certificates.”

“No, not exactly,” Cedric said after a moment’s thought. “I didn’t know her personally—we never spoke—but people used to say that Tonks was like a Gryffindor who got sorted into Hufflepuff.”

“What does that mean?” Mikel blinked. “How can someone be a Gryffindor in Hufflepuff? Didn’t she graduate from our house?”

“It means her personality was more like a Gryffindor’s,” Cedric explained,

Umbridge’s mouth tightened. “And if I insist on teaching this class myself?”

“You’re the professor; it’s entirely your decision,” Tonks said nonchalantly. “But to protect my job, I’d have to send a letter to the Ministry explaining why I wasn’t allowed to fulfill my responsibilities.” She added with a casual shrug, “The Ministry’s been keeping a close eye on Hogwarts lately—no one wants to appear lazy.”

“Very well,” Umbridge growled through gritted teeth. “Then you’ll teach this class, ”

Tonks smiled, correcting her gently, “Oh, I’m just an assistant—you’re the professor.”

Without another word, Umbridge marched down the podium and stormed out of the classroom, slamming the door behind her.

The moment she was gone, the room erupted in cheers.

“Okay, don’t get too excited,” Tonks said, waving her hand to calm the room.

When the laughter and chatter subsided, she continued, “What are you all standing around for? Put away that bloody book. It’s absolute rubbish and completely useless.”

The students exchanged amused glances as they eagerly shoved their books into their bags.

“Of course, I’m not saying the book is bad,” Tonks added, a wry smile on her face. “It’s just that the content is so rigid you’d struggle to use it in real life.”

Before she had even finished speaking, every desk was cleared of books. Some students, eager for action, already had their wands out.

“And put those wands away,” Tonks said, shaking her head. “Before we get started, I need to see how well you’ve been learning Transfiguration. It’s important.”

“Transfiguration?” someone said, confused. “But this is Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“I know,” Tonks replied breezily. “But what I’ll be teaching you builds on Transfiguration... like this.”

She tapped her wand against her face, and her features subtly shifted—her cheeks puffed out, and her chin flattened slightly. The change was minor, but it altered her appearance enough that in a different setting, Kyle thought he might not have recognized her.

“Today’s lesson is on ” Tonks explained. “Ways to temporarily change your appearance without using Potions."

“I know some of you might think this is pointless. After all, once you’ve learned Body Transfiguration, why bother, right?” Her gaze swept over the class, catching a few sheepish Gryffindors who had been visibly unimpressed. They quickly avoided her eyes.

Meanwhile, the Hufflepuff students, including Mikel, were brimming with excitement.

“I knew it!” Mikel burst out, laughing with delight.

Kyle remained silent, his thoughts elsewhere. He suspected Tonks wasn’t teaching this as a substitute for her own Metamorphmagus abilities; it was more likely something to assist Professor McGonagall’s curriculum.

“I need to warn you,” Tonks said, her tone turning serious, “that if you attempt to alter your appearance without practice, the result will usually make you stand out more in a crowd.”

She looked at a student sitting near the back. “Mr. Thomas, you don’t seem convinced.”

“Not really, Professor,” the Gryffindor said, standing up.

“Just call me Assistant Professor,” Tonks corrected. “It’s okay. Why don’t you give it a try? If you can manage to change your appearance enough that no one recognizes you, you’ll be free to do whatever you like for the rest of the lesson.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” Tonks replied with a grin.

“Alright!” Thomas pulled out his wand and tapped his face confidently.

There was an instant explosion of laughter. Some students doubled over, holding their stomachs, tears streaming down their faces.

“What’s going on?” Thomas asked, bewildered.

Tonks conjured a mirror and handed it to him.

The boy shrieked when he saw his reflection. His attempt at self-transfiguration had gone wildly wrong, leaving his face bloated and exaggerated. His nose had swollen so much he resembled a cross between a house-elf and someone who had downed a poorly brewed potion—an expired one at that.

In fairness, Thomas had succeeded; no one in the room would have recognized him, not even himself.

Tonks bit back a smile as she waved her wand, reversing the spell. “This is exactly what I mean. Untrained transformations just don’t work for concealment. They make you stand out even more.”

She looked around the room. “Anyone else want to give it a try? Same conditions. If you succeed, you’re free for the rest of class.”

Not a single hand went up. The girls in particular avoided her gaze, their heads down as though utterly absorbed in their desks.

“Very well,” Tonks said, nodding in satisfaction. “Let’s start with the basics.”

With a flick of her wand, a rabbit appeared on each student’s desk.

“It’s best to practice on them first before trying it on yourself. This way, you can gauge the strength of your magic.”

Kyle glanced at the rabbit in front of him but didn’t start. While the rest of the class eagerly tested their spells, he leaned back slightly, his mind elsewhere.

Tonks’ lesson, though practical for most students, felt unnecessary to him. Any magical transformation—no matter how perfect—left traces. Powerful wizards, like Dumbledore or Voldemort, would see through even the most skillful disguise. The only reliable methods to fool such individuals were Polyjuice Potion or natural-born Metamorphmagus abilities.

For the average Death Eater, though, this technique would suffice. Most lacked the magical acuity to detect subtle transfiguration mistakes.

But Kyle knew he wouldn’t need to rely on disguise to survive an encounter with a Death Eater. He had other methods—simpler, more decisive ones. If anything, it would be the Death Eater scrambling to escape, not him.

Still, Kyle acknowledged the value of Tonks’ lesson for the others. For most of them, the skill could be a lifesaver. For him, though, it was just another class he could sit through without much interest.