Hogwarts: I'm Truly a Model Wizard

Kyle landed with a slight thud, holding onto the fragment of the Philosopher's Stone, which spun briefly in midair before he deftly caught it. He slipped the fragment into his pocket, then looked around, taking in his surroundings.

Before setting off, Kyle had anticipated all sorts of possible destinations. He had expected perhaps a grand manor, or even a secluded wizard village—somewhere remote and secretive, like Newt's home nestled deep in the mountains, hidden from prying eyes. But he hadn't imagined that he would end up on a bustling muggle street.

Kyle raised his eyebrows as he took in the sight of a large restaurant sign overhead. People strolled past, busy and preoccupied, none seeming to notice the young wizard who had suddenly appeared out of thin air. They moved around him with the ease of those who didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

In the background, car horns blared intermittently, and Kyle squinted at the cityscape beyond. To his left, he caught a glimpse of a tall spire piercing the sky.

"Paris?" Kyle muttered to himself, piecing together his whereabouts. Since he'd known from the start that he'd be going to France, he quickly regained his composure after the initial surprise. A muggle street is as good a landing place as any, he thought. After all, it was a wizard with over six centuries of history—his outlook was bound to differ from that of most people. He could have arranged to meet atop the Eiffel Tower, or even in the depths of a zoo; it wouldn't have been entirely unexpected.

For now, though, Kyle's priority was to locate the person he was here to meet.

Kyle considered his options. Since either Nicolas Flamel or Dumbledore had likely prepared the Portkey, he felt confident he was in the right place. And given Flamel's nature, it was doubtful he'd be found in any of the shops lining this busy street.

Could it be the Fidelius Charm?

Reaching into his pocket, Kyle pulled out the envelope Dumbledore had given him before his departure. Opening it, he found a blank piece of paper. However, as soon as he unfolded it, he heard a soft, distinct whisper—a single number:

"51."

...

As soon as the number "51" whispered in Kyle's ear, the blank paper in his hand suddenly ignited, burning to ash in an instant and falling to the ground. Kyle barely had time to process this when, just ahead, an exquisite wooden door with gilt patterns materialized between the restaurant and the record store. Pale blue walls and gleaming windows emerged, as though an entire house had pushed its way into existence, forcing the neighboring shops aside.

Kyle observed the new building, intrigued. Inside the restaurant, the waitstaff continued their casual conversations, and in the record store, soft music played on, with neither business seeming to notice the sudden appearance of this elegant door.

Approaching it, Kyle noticed the door had no handle, only a small indentation that looked as if something had been struck out of it—not quite a keyhole. He pulled out his wand, attempting an Unlocking Charm, but as expected, it had no effect.

"Is this some sort of test?" he muttered. "Dumbledore didn't mention anything about this…"

As he pondered his next move, the gilt patterns on the door began to twist, entwining to form elegant golden text:

"Ahead of you lies a swift river.

The song of the magic flute has destroyed the bridge leading to the other side.

To continue forward, you must find the four lost branches…

One was taken by a knight in the countryside;

One struck a butterfly and was unknowingly picked up by a madam;

One witnessed a wedding vow… and one flaunts above people's heads.

Go forth and find them…

Or, you could hand over your treasures to the sirens by the shore—they will help you cross."

Kyle studied the words, his gaze narrowing thoughtfully. The meaning was clear enough: the "bridge" seemed to represent the door, and to unlock it, he would need to locate four specific items corresponding to the clues.

He analyzed each line carefully, picking out the key phrases: The song of the magic flute… A knight in the countryside... Madam Butterfly…

Famous operas, he thought. The names of certain operas matched the clues, though he hadn't yet pieced together the last two. So… I'm supposed to go to the opera house to find these clues?

He paused, re-reading the final line. The message seemed straightforward—if he preferred not to hunt down the clues, he could offer a valuable item in exchange for passage. But he knew the price here wasn't mere Galleons. The indentation in the door looked suspiciously like it was meant for something specific.

A thought struck him, and he reached into his pocket to pull out the Philosopher's Stone fragment. To his surprise, the fragment's size and shape matched the groove perfectly. Clearly, this was the "treasure" mentioned in the riddle.

"Nicolas Flamel didn't intend to take back this fragment of the Philosopher's Stone?" Kyle mused, surprised. If he found all the clues, he might even be able to keep the Stone fragment. On one hand, he could spend time solving the puzzle to retain it; on the other, he could simply use it now as a key. The choice was clear to him.

With a shrug, Kyle pushed the fragment into the groove without hesitation. The Philosopher's Stone might have once been powerful enough to drive countless wizards mad with desire, but now, as a broken fragment, it was of no practical use.

Like a pair of broken chopsticks or scattered Lego pieces, he thought, completely useless.

Of course, it might still fetch a high price in Diagon Alley—after all, with the Philosopher's Stone as a gimmick, plenty of pureblood families would likely pay handsomely for a chance to own it.

Just as he reached out to try to retrieve the shard, however, he realized it had already clicked seamlessly into place, fitting perfectly within the door's groove.

...

The door before Kyle slowly began to dissolve into thin air, while the room beyond expanded rapidly, seeming to engulf the entire street. In what felt like the blink of an eye, the quaint shop transformed into a grand hall lined with elegant columns, and the bustling pedestrians outside vanished altogether.

Kyle now stood in a vast, opulent hall. Warm yellow marble gleamed beneath his feet, and above him stretched an azure ceiling that shifted and shimmered like a living sky, its surface adorned with intricate golden symbols swirling in patterns that seemed both beautiful and cryptic.

"Aha, Olympe, you lose!" A familiar voice broke the silence nearby. "I told you—this kid would be the first one to arrive. Pay up! Two Galleons, fair and square."