Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 778: Reinforcements for Diagon Alley

That night, the fifth floor of St. Mungo’s, the Spell Damage Ward, was packed to capacity. The corridors were overflowing with witches and wizards who had been brought in for treatment.

Because he had arrived early, Percy was lucky enough to get a bed in the second ward on the left side of the corridor.

When Kyle and Cedric arrived, they found Mrs. Weasley anxiously standing outside the closed door, glancing at it over and over again, as if sheer determination alone would allow her to see through the solid wooden frame.

Mr. Weasley stood beside her, trying his best to reassure her.

“Don’t worry, Molly, he’s going to be alright,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, his other hand clenched tightly into a fist.

Yet, despite his comforting words, the way he kept glancing at the door betrayed his own unease.

Bill and Charlie were there as well, but Ginny and Ron were noticeably absent. It seemed Mrs. Weasley hadn’t wanted to take them away from the safety of the house and had chosen to leave them behind.

As for Fred and George, who had arrived not long ago… well, they weren’t far away, hopping around like a pair of baboons on hot coals, hands covering their ears as they jumped about in what might have been a frantic dance—or perhaps not a dance at all.

“Mrs. Weasley, how’s Percy?” Kyle asked as he approached.

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Weasley answered in a choked voice. Tear tracks were still visible on her face, suggesting she had been crying not long ago.

“The Healer has been in there for a long time… but he hasn’t come out yet.”

As she spoke, the door suddenly clicked open, and a weary-looking middle-aged witch stepped out.

“His condition isn’t too bad,” she said hurriedly, not even giving Mrs. Weasley a chance to ask. “Occlumency prevented the Imperius Curse from causing too much harm, and fortunately, he wasn’t subjected to the Cruciatus Curse for long, so his soul remains intact. Now we just need to wait for him to wake up.”

“When will he wake—” Mrs. Weasley barely had time to get her question out before the Healer pushed past them, heading off in another direction.

“Excuse me, there are many patients waiting… If you don’t need to be here, please leave. This place is already overcrowded.”

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth as if to protest but hesitated. After a moment, she stepped aside to let the Healer pass.

“Thank you…” the Healer murmured as she approached a wizard lying in the corridor, bending down to assess his condition with her wand. “Another Cruciatus Curse victim. What a day… I hope they get the herbs here soon; we ran out of the stocked ones ages ago…”

“We’re too many people here—we should go,” Mr. Weasley said quietly.

“You go ahead, I’m staying with Percy,” Mrs. Weasley insisted, her voice thick with emotion.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mr. Weasley said firmly. “You heard what she said—Percy’s injuries aren’t serious. One person staying behind is enough… Bill.”

Before Mrs. Weasley could argue, he turned back and called, “Can you stay here? If anything happens, use the communication coin to let us know immediately.”

“No problem, Dad, I’ve got it covered!” Bill responded.

Just then, two more injured people were rushed in.

As everyone stepped aside to make room, Mrs. Weasley found herself being gently but firmly ushered along with the crowd, out of the corridor and toward the stairwell.

Trapped in the middle, she had no choice but to go with the flow, following the others down the stairs.

On the second floor, they passed another patient being carried in. Kyle instinctively turned his head for a quick glance.

Even in that brief moment, he recognized the person on the stretcher. It wasn’t a Ministry employee but a worker from Flourish and Blotts—someone he had seen multiple times while shopping for books.

Had the Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley after leaving the Ministry?

There was no official news yet, but judging by the situation, it seemed likely. It would also explain why St. Mungo’s was so overwhelmed.

Kyle kept watching as the bookstore employee was taken up to the fifth floor.

“Unknown dark magic injuries, similar to a Severing Charm. Where should we put him?” one of the stretcher-bearers called out, struggling to maneuver through the congested hallway.

“Left-side room at the end of the corridor,” a Healer on the fifth floor shouted back without looking up. “Put him next to Ollivander—the Director is there!”

The stretcher-bearers immediately rushed forward, while Bill pressed himself as close to the wall as possible, making space for them to pass.

Meanwhile, outside St. Mungo’s, the Weasleys and the others who had left earlier now stood on the quiet street.

The late hour meant there wasn’t a single pedestrian in sight. The only movement came from the flickering yellow glow of the streetlamps.

Nobody spoke.

Behind them, the mannequin display marked the entrance to St. Mungo’s, and beside them, Mrs. Weasley sobbed softly.

After a tense silence, Mr. Weasley stepped forward and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. As if to change the subject, he turned to Kyle and said, “Happy birthday, Kyle.”

“And to you too, Harry. I’ve known for years that you two share the same birthday, but it still amazes me every time.”

“Huh?” Kyle was briefly stunned before realizing it was already past midnight—the 30th had arrived.

“Yeah, I feel the same way,” he said with a smile. “Having a friend with the same birthday is kind of special.”

“Oh, come on, that’s nothing. George and I have the same birthday,” Fred scoffed. “It’s been that way for years, and we don’t find it particularly amazing.”

“Exactly,” George nodded. “Sometimes, I wish we were born a few days apart—then we’d get to enjoy two birthday feasts every year!”

Laughter rippled through the group, even reaching Mrs. Weasley, who had stopped crying. Unable to help herself, she stepped forward and tugged both twins by the ears.

The two immediately yelped and pleaded for mercy, their exaggerated antics making everyone laugh again.

“Alright, we should get going,” Mr. Weasley took the chance to say. “The Death Eaters are still causing havoc, and Sirius and the others can’t handle it alone.”

“I know…” Mrs. Weasley murmured, her expression darkening. “I just… I feel awful… Was I too harsh on Percy?”

“I think you could’ve been a lot harsher,” Fred quipped. His ears had only just been released, but as soon as Mrs. Weasley shot him a look, he bolted.

“Don’t worry, Molly,” Mr. Weasley reassured her. “The Healer said Percy is fine.”

“Yes, Mum,” George added. “And we really have Mr. Fudge to thank. He showed up just in time and ended up drawing most of the fire.”

A strange silence followed.

“Enough, you two. Don’t say things like that again…” Mr. Weasley struggled to keep a straight face. “Whatever you think of Fudge, he died fighting You-Know-Who. That deserves respect.”

“Alright…”

“Yeah, we got it…”

Their voices were anything but sincere, but their interruption had lightened the mood.

That was when everyone finally noticed Cedric, who had been quietly following Kyle.

“Oh, Cedric…” Mrs. Weasley quickly stepped forward and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry, dear. In all the chaos, we never got a chance to thank you for getting Percy to St. Mungo’s in time.”

“It was nothing, Mrs. Weasley. I just did what I had to do,” Cedric replied.

“You’re a good lad, but we still owe you our thanks,” she said, hugging him again.

But then, she hesitated.

Everyone would be returning to Grimmauld Place, but Cedric…

Sensing her concern, Kyle spoke up. “It’s fine. Before we came here, Professor Dumbledore invited Cedric to join the Order of the Phoenix and gave him the address.”

“Really?” Mrs. Weasley’s eyes lit up. “Is that true?”

“The address… it’s gone now, but I remember—”

“That’s enough, dear. Not here,” Mrs. Weasley interrupted, taking Cedric’s arm. “Come with me. I assume you can Apparate?”

“Of course. I’ve already got my Apparition certificate.”

“Good, good…”

With that, she led him away.

The others followed.

Just as Kyle was about to Apparate, a large hand suddenly grabbed him from behind.

Kyle turned and burst out laughing.

Charlie was standing there, looking sheepish.

“You really should take the time to learn this spell,” Kyle teased.

“I’d love to, but it’s not that easy,” Charlie sighed.

His broad, muscular build was an advantage when handling dragons, but it made learning Apparition much more difficult.

He could manage short distances, but longer jumps always ended in Splinching.

It was frustrating, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“Alright, hold on tight.”

With that, Kyle Apparated them both to Grimmauld Place.

By the time they arrived, Cedric had already recalled the exact address and pointed out Number 12.

That confirmed it.

Mr. Weasley led them inside, and as soon as they stepped through the door, they were met by Hermione, wand raised and ready.

At the sound of movement, Harry, Ron, and Ginny came rushing in from elsewhere.

“Relax, Hermione, it’s just us,” Mr. Weasley reassured her softly. “You can let your guard down a little. As long as Dumbledore is safe, the Death Eaters won’t be able to find this place.”

“Where were you?” Ron asked urgently.

“Nothing, just something we had to take care of,” Mr. Weasley said evasively. He had no intention of telling Ron about Percy’s injuries—he didn’t want to risk them doing something reckless.

Given their history, the concern was entirely justified.

“What could be so important that all of you had to leave?” Ron pressed.

“It’s Ministry business, obviously,” Fred said, stepping in from behind and pushing him aside. “Now move, you’re in the way.”

George followed right after. “It’s our job. You lot haven’t even graduated yet—just go back and finish your homework.”

Ron clenched his jaw in frustration but didn’t argue. He knew that if Fred and George didn’t want to tell him something, they simply wouldn’t.

And if he pestered them too much, there was always the risk they’d retaliate—like tossing a couple of Dungbombs into his room while he was asleep.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I’d like to introduce you to a new friend… Well, maybe you already know him.” Mr. Weasley stepped aside and gently nudged Cedric forward, who looked slightly uneasy.

“Cedric Diggory—just graduated from Hogwarts not too long ago. I doubt any of you are unfamiliar with him.”

The group nodded in unison.

Cedric—Quidditch captain, Head Boy, and a former member of the DA. Of course, they knew him.

More importantly, Harry had once considered him his biggest romantic rival… though Cedric himself remained completely oblivious to that fact.

“So, have you joined the Order of the Phoenix too?” Harry asked.

“The Order of the Phoenix?” Cedric instinctively glanced at Kyle.

To be honest, he had only just heard the name recently. Beyond that, he knew next to nothing about it.

“That’s right…” Mrs. Weasley stepped forward, taking Cedric’s arm as she started explaining the Order to him. Hermione and the others quickly chimed in, adding their own explanations.

Meanwhile, Kyle, Mr. Weasley, Fred, and George had already left the room again, stepping outside into the square.

“Looks like we were thinking the same thing,” Mr. Weasley said. “You recognized him too, didn’t you? The person taken to St. Mungo’s—he worked at Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley.”

“Of course. He was one of our regular customers,” Fred replied. “Bloody Death Eaters—they just cost us a loyal buyer.”

Without wasting another word, they Apparated once more, arriving at the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron.

As soon as they appeared, they saw the massive Dark Mark floating ominously in the sky.

The pub was in complete disarray. Broken bottles littered the floor, tables were overturned, and shattered glass crunched underfoot.

“Where’s Tom?” Fred frowned, scanning the wreckage. “You don’t think he…”

“He should be fine,” Mr. Weasley said at once, shaking his head. “Tom’s a sharp man. My guess is he sensed something was wrong and hid before it got bad.”

“Maybe…” George murmured.

They stepped through the debris-strewn bar and into the back courtyard.

They had been right—the entrance to Diagon Alley was wide open. Inside, flames raged, explosions echoed through the streets, and the shrill laughter of Death Eaters filled the air.

The shopkeepers had banded together, desperately fighting off the Death Eaters’ assault.

Kyle even spotted someone from Quality Quidditch Supplies wielding a prized Firebolt like a club, using it to bat away spells fired by the Death Eaters.

The next second, the spell ricocheted off to the side.

It wasn’t too surprising, really. The Firebolt, as the finest broomstick available, had powerful protective enchantments woven into its wooden handle to keep players safe from interference while flying. Naturally, it could also deflect most jinxes.

It was just that very few people ever thought to use it this way—even Kyle was seeing it for the first time.

“Damn it, where’s the Ministry’s backup?” someone shouted, maintaining a Shield Charm.

But the only response was the Death Eaters’ mocking laughter.

“Don’t waste your breath.”

“The Ministry’s too busy saving its own skin—do you really think they’d come to help you?”

“Exactly. Just accept your fate and—”

Before he could finish, a spell suddenly blasted him off his feet, sending him crashing to the ground, unconscious.

The Death Eaters spun around—only to be met with a fresh wave of spells flying toward them.

“Stupefy!”

“Stupefy!”

Since there were others nearby, Kyle refrained from using large-scale magic or pulling anything from his suitcase. Instead, he stuck to basic jinxes and transfiguration spells—just as effective.

Almost everyone he targeted dropped instantly, unable to fight back.

Fred and George were less powerful than Kyle in direct combat, but they more than made up for it with their arsenal of magical gadgets. As they cast spells, they tossed small, round objects into the fray.

Some exploded, releasing thick clouds of green smoke, while others burst open with sticky, glue-like substances—highly effective against Death Eaters.

Even Mr. Weasley fought with the skill of an Auror.

And because the attack had been so sudden, despite only being four of them, they fought with the intensity of twenty.

For the moment, they actually had the upper hand.