Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 760: Battle in the Castle, the Overconfident Death Eater

“Oh my, Fenrir Greyback!”

Professor McGonagall, who had just arrived, immediately took in the sight of the werewolf struggling against the wall.

“Did you do this?”

“No, it was Kyle,” Cedric said quickly. “And he even saved me.”

“Well done. Youʼve solved a major problem for the wizarding world.” Professor McGonagall’s usually stern expression softened into a rare smile. She had hurried here upon hearing that Greyback was present.

Fenrir Greyback was one of the most feared and reviled werewolves, infamous for deliberately targeting children, ensuring they grew up isolated, resenting the wizarding world that shunned them.

For most witches and wizards, encountering a werewolf as a child was an incredibly dangerous ordeal. Even if a bitten childʼs family was accepting, society at large rarely was. As a result, many of Greyback’s victims eventually turned to him, joining his cause against the world that had rejected them.

Greyback firmly believed that if enough werewolves were created, they would one day overthrow wizarding society. And he had spent years working toward that goal.

Remus Lupin, for example, had been one of his victims.

Had things gone as expected, Lupin would have spent his childhood locked away in an attic or basement, unable to make friends, unable to attend school, growing up in loneliness and isolation.

But fortunately, he had met Dumbledore—a headmaster confident enough to take in a werewolf child.

Later, he had even met James Potter and Sirius Black.

Regardless of their personalities, they had done their best for Lupin, pulling him back from the brink and giving him the life Greyback had sought to deny him.

Unfortunately, not every child Greyback had bitten had been as lucky.

“Professor McGonagall, what should we do with him?” Kyle asked.

“Hand him over to the Ministry of Magic,” she began, but after a moment of hesitation, her expression changed.

“There’s a hidden village in Cornwall,” she said, “where the children bitten by Greyback and other werewolves live—along with their families.”

“As it happens, some of them were once my students. I’ll find time to write to them.”

Kyle blinked, momentarily feeling as though he was seeing Professor McGonagall for the first time.

Was this really the Head of Gryffindor?

Honestly, he couldn’t have come up with a better solution himself.

“Okay, Kyle, you go back to the common room. We’ll handle things from here.”

Professor McGonagall flicked her wand, jabbing it at Greyback, who instantly slumped into unconsciousness. Another quick motion, and he transformed into a ferret.

She then turned, transfiguring the spear into a cage to contain him before heading off.

“Wait, Professor,” Kyle called after her. “What’s going on with Professor Dumbledore?”

“I don’t know either,” McGonagall admitted. “Now hurry back—”

“I can help,” Kyle cut in, glancing at the cage.

Whether it was because he hadn’t graduated yet, or simply because of who they were, Professor McGonagall and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix always treated him as someone to be protected.

But now, reminded of what he had just done—defeating Fenrir Greyback single-handedly—McGonagall hesitated. From Cedric’s account, the battle had even seemed easy.

“Alright…” After a brief moment of thought, she let go of her initial reluctance.

“The Death Eaters have entered the castle,” she said briskly. “At first, when Sirius told me, I thought he was joking, but then I received a message from Headmaster Armando.”

“How dare those Death Eaters!” McGonagall’s voice trembled with fury.

Then again, she thought bitterly, for Death Eaters, this wasn’t exactly surprising.

But Kyle wasn’t focused on that.

“Professor, they just walked in?” he asked. “Phineas Black didn’t tell you about the Vanishing Cabinet?”

McGonagall frowned. “How do you know about the Vanishing Cabinet?”

“Because I gave it to Draco Malfoy,” Kyle said matter-of-factly.

That single sentence sent a shockwave through McGonagall’s mind.

She stumbled, nearly collapsing to the ground—only for Kyle to catch her just in time.

“Are you saying that Draco Malfoy was the one who helped the Death Eaters get into the school?” Professor McGonagall’s voice rose sharply. “And what do you mean by the Vanishing Cabinet you gave him?”

“It’s hard to explain in a few words,” Kyle said. “Anyway, Dumbledore knew about it too. We had planned to use the Vanishing Cabinet to catch the Death Eaters who infiltrated Hogwarts.”

But now…

Kyle paused for a moment, listening to the explosions echoing through the corridors, then shrugged. “It seems that things have taken a turn for the unexpected.”

He hadn’t anticipated that not only had the Death Eaters not been wiped out, but they had managed to launch an outright attack on the school. How exactly had Dumbledore arranged things? This wasn’t what he had expected.

Professor McGonagall didn’t entirely understand what Kyle was talking about, but if Dumbledore had been involved, then at least she could trust that there was some greater plan in motion.

“Headmaster Black did mention the Vanishing Cabinets,” she said, “but he was a little late in doing so. By the time we’d returned the students to their respective common rooms, the Death Eaters were already inside the school, and there was simply no time left to stop them.”

Kyle frowned.

This was the plan he had thought about for so long?

Even if his efforts had bought the students enough time to return to safety, there was still an indescribable feeling gnawing at him. From the start, his goal had been to take down the Death Eaters entirely.

With the Vanishing Cabinet and the Basilisk, no Death Eater should have escaped.

But now…

Never mind.

Kyle sighed. The changes to the Room of Requirement had come at the most inopportune time. If only he had managed to get out a day earlier… or even an hour. The Death Eaters would never have set foot inside the castle.

“Where is Professor Dumbledore?” Kyle asked again.

“I don’t know,” Professor McGonagall said, shaking her head. “He may not have returned yet, or he may be somewhere else. I haven’t seen him.”

As they spoke, a figure in a black hood suddenly appeared around the corner of the corridor ahead. The attire left no doubt—it was a Death Eater.

Professor McGonagall raised her wand…

But Kyle was faster. A bright red light shot past McGonagall’s ear and struck the Death Eater squarely in the chest.

The man didn’t even have time to react before he was sent flying backwards, slamming into the wall and collapsing motionless to the floor.

“Looks like leaving you behind was the right choice,” McGonagall said, slightly relaxing her grip on her wand.

She had to admit—Kyle’s reaction speed alone was far beyond that of an ordinary student.

Kyle simply smiled, saying nothing.

They reached the corner and parted ways—Professor McGonagall heading down the right corridor while Kyle went left.

As for Cedric, he had to stay put. This was the only accessible entry into the castle from the tower, and someone needed to guard it.

Along the way, Kyle encountered two more Death Eaters. He dispatched both with ease, though their lack of skill only confirmed that they were merely rank-and-file, not the core fighters.

How many of them got in here? Kyle frowned, growing tired of running into them. Instead of continuing to search blindly, he pulled out the Marauder’s Map.

“I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good.”

Tapping his wand against the parchment, he watched as the blank surface filled with intricate ink lines, revealing the map of Hogwarts.

Just as he focused on the movements across the castle, a Death Eater crept up behind him.

Kyle seemed oblivious, still looking intently at the map in his hands.

The Death Eater’s masked face twisted with a trace of manic excitement as he slowly raised his wand.

He had seen this boy’s portrait before. He knew that the Dark Lord had specifically named him—marked him to be killed. If he succeeded, he would earn great favor, perhaps even become one of the Dark Lord’s most trusted.

His heartbeat quickened in anticipation.

But just then, a scent drifted through the air—a peculiar, almost cloyingly sweet smell. It was complex, layered, as if someone had waved a Honeydukes’ Blood Pop under his nose.

Strange… why would there be a Blood-flavoured lollipop here?

Had some gluttonous student dropped it carelessly?

What bad manners…

The Death Eater felt his head growing heavier, his vision swimming as his grip on his wand weakened. Within seconds, his body collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, unmoving.

Kyle still didn’t turn around. His voice was indifferent. “Remember to clean it up. Don’t let the poisonous fog drift elsewhere.”

From the shadows behind him, a sleek, black creature resembling a leopard emerged silently.

The Nundu snorted, clearly displeased by the command, but still obeyed. It raised its head, its powerful throat inflating rapidly like an agitated pufferfish. Within moments, the thick, sweet scent that had lingered in the air dissipated.

Kyle remained focused on the Marauder’s Map in his hands, momentarily reminded of just how useful it truly was.

The ink had now spread across the parchment, revealing every Death Eater’s location. Their names stood out clearly, scattered throughout the castle.

No need to search aimlessly now.

His eyes locked onto the closest name—Garter—but his attention soon shifted elsewhere.

The North Tower.

Apart from the four common rooms, it was the most crowded place on the map. And within it, names stood out sharply:

Dumbledore.

Harry.

Malfoy.

Snape.

Alecto Carrow.

Antonin Dolohov.

Thorfinn, Gibbon…

And… Morris Oren.

Kyle’s gaze lingered on the last name.

For a moment, he froze.

“It’s been a long time, Professor Oren,” he murmured under his breath.

It had been so long that he had almost forgotten his first-year Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, the one who had taught him so much.

So, he had finally joined the Death Eaters too?

Kyle folded the map, took a steady breath, and strode quickly toward the tower.

No Death Eaters stood in his way this time. The path was eerily clear, and before long, he reached the base of the North Tower.

A thick wall of hardened earth blocked the spiral staircase leading up—an obvious magical barrier. Just ahead, Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie stood at the obstruction, their wands raised.

“Reducto…”

“Reducto…”

Each curse struck the wall, but the effect was meager. The barrier was strong, and the most their combined efforts could achieve was a small dent—far from enough to break through.

Mr. Weasley noticed movement behind him and turned.

“Kyle, what are you—”

“We’ll talk later.”

Kyle didn’t slow down. With a flick of his wand, a surge of red-gold fire erupted forward. The flame struck the wall, hissing as though a burning ember had been cast into fresh snow.

Unlike before, the barrier did not crack or explode—it simply melted.

Without waiting, Kyle walked straight through the opening.

The three Weasleys stood motionless for a second, watching in stunned silence.

“…Was that the Fiendfyre Curse?”

“Nonverbal Fiendfyre Curse?”

Bill and Charlie both turned to look at their father.

Mr. Weasley smacked his lips, swallowing as he nodded stiffly. “It… certainly looked like it.”

Despite his disbelief, the flames twisting and writhing with an almost sentient motion were unmistakable. It was Fiendfyre.

And not just any Fiendfyre—this was an advanced, highly controlled version, powerful enough to reduce the Death Eaters’ barrier in an instant.

Charlie hesitated. “Should we go in and help?”

The earthen wall was gone, but now a new obstacle remained.

Whether intentionally or not, Kyle had left a portion of the Fiendfyre burning around the perimeter, forming a massive, living ring of fire. To enter the tower now, one would have to step directly through it.

Mr. Weasley took a moment, then shook his head.

“Forget it,” he said. “Dumbledore wanted us to make as much noise as possible, but things have completely spiraled out of control. We should focus on dealing with the other Death Eaters in the castle.”

“But there are a lot of Death Eaters in the tower, Kyle—”

“Charlie,” Bill interrupted with a raised brow, “you do realize Kyle isn’t Ron, right? He doesn’t need us looking after him.”

Charlie let out a dry laugh. “Alright, not the kindest comparison to Ron, but fair enough.”

As they spoke, a dark blur suddenly shot past them.

In an instant, the figure crossed through the ring of fire and vanished up the spiral staircase beyond.

Bill blinked. “What was that?”

Charlie rubbed his eyes. “It looked like… a leopard?” His voice was uncertain—it had moved too fast for him to be sure.

“A leopard? At Hogwarts?” Bill frowned.

Charlie shrugged. “How should I know? Maybe it came from the Forbidden Forest. Why don’t you go find out?”

Bill considered it for a second. “Well… I think Kyle and Dumbledore can handle a leopard. Even if it is black.”

On the other side, Kyle ascended to the top of the tower. As he arrived, the voices above became clear.

“Dumbledore is cornered, and his wand is broken. Well done, Draco, youʼre even better than we thought,” a coarse voice remarked.

“Now’s our chance! Dumbledore is isolated, he’s surrounded—hurry and kill him, Draco,” urged another.

Surrounded?

Kyle nearly laughed out loud. Quickening his pace once more, he was eager to see what kind of fool could make such a cold-blooded joke.

If numbers alone could compensate for weakness, Voldemort would have been surrounded and defeated long ago.

“Good evening, Gibbon,” Dumbledore’s voice rang out, calm as if he were inviting the man to tea.

“If you’re in such a hurry, why don’t you do it yourself? I’m right here. No need to make things difficult for a child.”

“No, we have our orders. Draco must do it,” a dull voice replied. “Come on, Draco, hurry up. Think of Lucius and Cissy. They’re waiting to hear the good news from you.”

The threat in those words was unmistakable.

“Look at you, Dumbledore. You can’t even hold your wand steady,” the raspy voice sneered. “I really don’t understand why the Dark Lord cares so much about you.”

“Alas, my strength is failing, and my reflexes are slow,” Dumbledore said, his voice carrying a hint of helplessness. “I am already over a hundred years old, and old age is of little use. But one day… you will also find yourself in this state, Gibbon… if you’re lucky…”

“What does that mean? What does that mean?!” The Death Eater’s voice turned sharp. “Hurry up and do it, Draco! Kill him!”

“Relax. Take your time. Give the young man some encouragement,” a languid voice drawled. “By the way, has anyone seen Fenrir?”

“He’s probably gone mad in the school, that brainless beast,” another Death Eater said with a hint of disgust.

“Fenrir Greyback?” Dumbledore’s voice took on a grave tone.

“Yes, a werewolf—and one who enjoys biting children,” the same lazy voice continued. “Want to guess how many students will become werewolves after tonight?”

“Unfortunately, Oren, the moon isn’t particularly full tonight.”

”Ah, I forgot,” Oren said, almost apologetically. ”But Dumbledore, Greyback is far crueler than you think—he doesn’t care whether the moon is full.”

“That’s all right. I trust the professors at this school… as much as I once trusted you,” Dumbledore responded.

“Enough with the small talk!” a shrill female voice snapped. “Just do it, Draco, or get out of the way!”

Kyle didn’t hear Malfoy respond. He also noticed that no one had mentioned Harry.

Just moments ago, Harry’s name had appeared on the Marauder’s Map. As The Boy Who Lived, Voldemort’s sworn enemy, there was no reason the Death Eaters would ignore him.

But that no longer mattered.

Kyle had reached the top of the tower. Without hesitation, he pushed open the door.

Inside, Dumbledore leaned against a wall, while Draco Malfoy—visibly trembling—stood before him. A broken wand lay discarded on the floor between them.

Dumbledore was disarmed by someone else?

Kyle’s lips twitched. Dumbledore’s act was starting to seem a little too contrived. He wasn’t injured—how could he be disarmed by a student? And yet, these people actually believed it.

The sound of the door opening instantly drew everyone’s attention. All eyes turned toward him.

Dumbledore’s widened in disbelief.

At the same time... Kyle wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but he thought he caught a hint of frustration and panic in his expression.

The Death Eaters, however, were nearly ecstatic.

“It’s you!” a witch in the crowd hissed, her eyes burning with hatred. “We were just wondering how to find you, and you walked right in.”

“Yes, I’m here,” Kyle said coolly. “So what?”

“He’s mine! I want to kill him myself! No, I’ll torture him with the Cruciatus Curse!”

“No, he’s mine,” Antonin Dolohov countered.

The two glared at each other, neither willing to back down.