Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 779: No Sense of Fair Play

Kyle and the others caught the Death Eaters completely off guard. Perhaps the Death Eaters had assumed that Auror reinforcements wouldn’t arrive so quickly, so they hadn’t paid much attention to their backs from the start.

Taking advantage of their distraction, some shopkeepers quickly reacted, shifting from defense to offense and launching counterattacks against the Death Eaters.

In an instant, the tide of battle turned.

“Stupefy!” Kyle sent another Death Eater flying. Just as he was about to switch targets, he suddenly noticed a strange-colored smoke drifting toward him.

At the same time, an indescribable stench assaulted his nose, shooting straight to his brain. For a brief moment, it felt as if the entire world had become crystal clear.

“Ugh…”

Kyle gagged, barely managing to keep his dinner down. Abandoning the idea of continuing his fight, he quickly cast the Bubble-Head Charm on himself.

Only after taking two deep breaths did he finally start to feel better.

“Fred! George!” Kyle’s voice was muffled through the bubble, but his anger was unmistakable. “Can’t you use something a little more conventional?”

“This is conventional!” Fred blinked innocently through the fog. “As the owners of a joke shop, what’s wrong with using a few magical tricks in battle?”

“And it’s great advertising for our shop,” George added with a grin, completely unaffected by the smell. “You know how bad business has been lately. We haven’t opened in ages.”

With that, the twins cheerfully waved at Kyle before dashing off toward the densest cluster of Death Eaters, pulling out even more Dungbombs.

Kyle could only shake his head and hurry over to Mr. Weasley, who was still trying to process what was happening, urging him to use the Bubble-Head Charm for protection.

As more and more Dungbombs exploded, the putrid stench quickly spread throughout Diagon Alley. Fred and George, the masterminds behind the chaos, instantly became the most unwelcome people in the area—everyone scrambled to get away from them.

It wasn’t just the Death Eaters. Even the shopkeepers fighting on the same side as the twins instinctively retreated as far as possible.

No one could blame them—the smell was unbearable.

...

Thanks to Fred and George’s rather unconventional tactics, the battle came to an unexpectedly swift conclusion.

All thirty-three Death Eaters were captured—every last one of them, bound and tossed aside.

It wasn’t a matter of courage or stubbornness; they simply couldn’t escape.

The foul odor spread so quickly that even the faintest breeze carried it throughout the entire street, leaving no place to hide.

More crucially, the overwhelming stench made it nearly impossible for anyone to focus. Unless a wizard had exceptional willpower and self-control, Apparition was out of the question.

And, as it turned out, no one present had that kind of self-control.

As a result, the Death Eaters’ combat ability was immediately halved—if not worse—allowing Kyle and Mr. Weasley to take them down one by one, as if they were calling roll.

Some had attempted to flee, but without exception, they all left something behind—one lost a leg, another half an arm.

One particularly unfortunate fellow managed to apparate away… but only his body made it. His head remained behind. Since Kyle had no way of knowing where the man had intended to go, even if he had wanted to help, there was nothing he could do.

Not that he wanted to help. If Kyle remembered correctly, this was the same Death Eater who had laughed the loudest while attacking the shopkeepers earlier, completely enjoying the cruelty of it.

This outcome was rather fitting. If the man’s body managed to return before the protective magic of his Apparition wore off, he might still be able to reattach his head.

If not… well. That would be quite a gruesome sight.

Kyle made another sweep of the battlefield, but to his disappointment, he didn’t recognize any of the captured Death Eaters. Neither Barty Crouch Jr. nor Bellatrix was among them.

It seemed the Death Eaters hadn’t acted as a single unit. The elite members had vanished after leaving the Ministry, leaving behind this disorderly group to create a diversion and draw attention.

And the reason for that? Most likely, they were trying to cover something up.

For instance… diverting attention from an injured Voldemort.

Kyle had suspected as much ever since he saw Dumbledore.

Now, he was certain—Dumbledore had been injured, and not lightly. His entire arm had nearly been crippled, and there was only one person capable of inflicting such damage: Voldemort.

But Voldemort wouldn’t have walked away unscathed, either. Just like two evenly matched Quidditch teams, one side couldn’t win without paying a price.

The most likely scenario? Voldemort and Dumbledore had fought each other to a standstill in Austria.

Of course, this was just Kyle’s theory. It was also possible that the elite Death Eaters were off causing trouble somewhere else.

After all, Britain was a big place, and Diagon Alley wasn’t the only notable location.

That also explained why the battle had ended so quickly. To be honest, apart from their numbers, these Death Eaters weren’t much of a threat. Even without Fred and George’s special weapons, Kyle was confident he could have dealt with them in under thirty minutes.

Granted, there wouldn’t have been quite as many captives in that case.

“Thank you…”

“Thank you for your help…”

“The Ministry is so unreliable. No one showed up for so long—were Fudge and Scrimgeour having a candlelit dinner together or something?”

As the last Death Eater was thrown out, the shopkeepers stepped forward to express their gratitude. However, since the news hadnʼt spread yet, they were unaware of the major changes in the Ministry of Magic and instead vented their frustration over the Aurorsʼ and Hit Wizardsʼ inaction.

Once Mr. Weasley explained the situation at the Ministry, an immediate silence fell over the crowd.

They had never liked Fudge—very few people did, given his indecisive nature—but hearing that he had been killed by Death Eaters still left them with a sense of unease and a deep, unspoken fear.

If even the Minister for Magic had been killed… how were ordinary wizards supposed to protect themselves?

No one spoke. The atmosphere was heavy, as if a layer of frost had settled over them. Even the lingering stench around them seemed to fade into irrelevance.

Mr. Weasley did his best to say a few words of encouragement, but they did little to lift the spirits of those around him.

This was exactly what the Death Eaters had wanted. Killing the Minister for Magic disrupted the Ministry’s plans, asserted their dominance, and dealt a crushing blow to their opponents’ morale—there was no shortage of benefits for them.

And judging by the current situation, the Death Eaters had succeeded. Everyone understood their intent, but no one had an answer for it.

The only thing left to do now was to pick up the pieces—elect a new Minister as soon as possible and get the Ministry running again. But that would take time.

...

After a while, Fred and George, unable to bear the oppressive atmosphere any longer—and eager to check on their shop—spoke briefly with Mr. Weasley before dashing off toward the other end of the alley.

Their sudden movement seemed to snap a few shopkeepers out of their daze.

Kyle hesitated for a moment before following them. Florean Fortescue, the owner of the ice cream shop, watched them go, looking as if he wanted to say something. But after a brief moment of hesitation, he sighed and remained silent.

Instead, he turned to Kyle and said, “Thank you. You’ve saved me again.”

“It’s nothing,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “If you really want to thank me, how about treating me to some ice cream?”

“Of course!” Florean Fortescue thumped his chest proudly. “Anytime you stop by, you can eat as much as you like—for free! That promise stands forever!”

“Well, that’s great news,” Kyle said, his eyes lighting up. The thought of opening his own shop in Diagon Alley grew even stronger.

As for what kind of shop… he instinctively turned to look at the owner of Quality Quidditch Supplies, but the man immediately averted his gaze.

Kyle scoffed. “Tsk. Stingy.”

An ice cream wasn’t worth much, but even the cheapest broomstick could cover half a year’s worth of ice cream expenses. It seemed he’d have to put aside the idea of opening a Quidditch shop for now.

“Ah!”

Suddenly, Fred and George’s shrieks echoed from the distance. Kyle instinctively pulled out his wand.

“Don’t worry,” Florean Fortescue said. “I don’t think their screaming has anything to do with Death Eaters. They’ve probably just found their shop.”

“What do you mean?” Kyle asked.

“Well…” Florean glanced uneasily at Mr. Weasley, hesitating before saying, “The damage to their shop… might be a little more severe than they expected.”

Curious, Kyle immediately broke into a run.

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was still some distance from the entrance to Diagon Alley, and before Kyle even got there, he heard their anguished wails again—one after the other.

They sounded utterly devastated, as if someone had robbed them of all their Galleons.

Which, honestly, wasn’t far from the truth.

Their shop was gone.

As Kyle rounded the corner, his view suddenly opened up, and what had once been a row of neatly lined shops was now interrupted by an empty space.

The missing shop? Fred and George’s.

It looked like the Death Eaters had made a special effort to target it. Of all the stores in Diagon Alley, Weasleysʼ Wizard Wheezes had suffered the worst destruction—by far.

The entrance and the giant Weasley statue that had served as their sign were completely obliterated, their shattered remains strewn haphazardly across the ground. Even the walls and windows hadn’t been spared.

The once-charming two-story building was now nothing more than a pile of rubble, barely half a meter high.

The products that had once been neatly arranged on the shelves were scattered everywhere—on the street, on the pavement, even stuck to the opposite wall. The only place they weren’t was where they were supposed to be.

If Kyle hadn’t known there had once been a shop here, he might have assumed someone had simply dumped a pile of construction debris.

But given the circumstances… it wasn’t hard to understand why.

Fred and George had been making jokes about Voldemort for years. They still hadnʼt taken down the ”U-No-Poo” advert, and theyʼd even put up parody portraits of famous Death Eaters.

For example, Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange had been drawn as a grotesque pair of Cornish Pixies, viciously tearing at each other’s faces. The image was used to promote their new product, Wrathful Sugar—candy that made you furious after eating it.

Then there was a gnome with Antonin Dolohov’s face… advertising their Balding Hat. This prank hat would temporarily make the wearer bald in various ways, but the hair would grow back after two days. It was currently the most popular joke item in their shop.

Back at school, Kyle had seen plenty of students sneak these hats into the castle. They would stash them with their uniforms to avoid Filch’s inspections.

Once they got their hands on one, theyʼd either slip it to an unsuspecting victim or wear it themselves, proudly showing off their bald heads.

For young wizards unconcerned about losing their hair, this was endless fun.

Incidentally, rumor had it that the hat was inspired by Mr. Weasley. Of course, he remained unaware of this fact, and Fred and George stubbornly refused to admit it. Instead, they claimed they got the idea from seeing Professor Slughorn at Hogwarts.

The problem? Slughorn hadn’t even been teaching at Hogwarts when they were students. And the hats had only been on sale since last October—by which time they were already working at the Ministry of Magic and had no chance to see Slughorn at all.

But none of that really mattered.

The point was, Fred and George had been using Death Eaters and Voldemort as part of their marketing strategy. It was satisfying, sure—but it was also dangerous.

Like right now...

Death Eaters were wreaking havoc in Diagon Alley. And after discovering such ”blasphemous” behavior, they weren’t about to let it slide.

As a result, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was completely demolished.

“My shop!” Fred and Georgeʼs anguished cries echoed through the early morning sky.

“Kill them… kill them!” George’s eyes were bloodshot with rage. He pulled out every Dungbomb he had, ready to give the Death Eaters a lesson they’d never forget.

For instance, stuffing Dungbombs into their mouths and then shoving them inside an even bigger Dungbomb.

“Don’t be rash. Mr. Weasley is questioning them—wait until he’s finished, then you can deal with them,” Kyle intercepted him just in time.

When Kyle had arrived, Mr. Weasley had been interrogating the captured Death Eaters about You-Know-Who’s plans and the whereabouts of the others. If any of them actually knew something, Fred and George’s outburst could ruin everything.

“But my shop… our hard work…” George struggled to get the words out.

“I know,” Kyle said, exasperated. “But have you forgotten that you’re wizards?”

He glanced at them and added, “Remember what Professor Flitwick used to say? You’re wizards, not baboons with sticks.”

With a flick of his wand, the rubble on the ground reassembled itself, slotting back into place like a puzzle.

Fred and George froze for a moment—then it hit them.

Right. How had they forgotten about the Mending Charm?

Immediately abandoning their vendetta, they jumped into action, helping to restore the shop.

First, the walls were mended. Then the shattered windows repaired themselves and slid seamlessly back into their frames...

“You should count yourselves lucky the Death Eaters only used the Fire-Making Charm instead of Fiendfyre,” Kyle remarked as he restored a charred statue fragment. “If it had been Fiendfyre, even the best Mending Charms wouldn’t help.”

“Then they’d be dead!” Fred growled through gritted teeth.

“But I doubt they’d dare use Fiendfyre,” George said, now a bit calmer. “That curse is uncontrollable—it doesn’t discriminate between friend and foe. There were quite a few Death Eaters here; unless they wanted to get themselves killed too, they wouldn’t risk it.”

As he spoke, he gave Kyle a pointed look.

So far, Kyle was the only wizard he’d ever seen wield Fiendfyre like an ordinary fire spell.

Dumbledore and Voldemort were probably capable of it too—but George had never seen them in action.

With the three of them working together, it took only five minutes to restore Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes to its former state.

Next came the magical products inside the store, which was far trickier. Many of them were single-use items—maps, potions, and the like. If they were destroyed, they were simply gone; the Mending Charm wouldn’t do a thing.

As for the more complex products, those would take much longer to repair.

After a quick inventory, they realized that over half the shop’s stock was gone.

Staring at the empty counters and shelves, Fred and George’s faces darkened. That was a fortune in Galleons—wiped out just like that.

At that moment, their hatred for Voldemort and the Death Eaters reached an all-time high.

If they could, they’d rip them apart and display their remains on the shelves.