Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 872: An Innocent Bystander

To most wizards, the dark wizards lurking in Knockturn Alley and the shadows of Cornwall didn’t seem particularly threatening.

They all had one thing in common: they stayed put. Those in Knockturn Alley rarely ventured across the passage into Diagon Alley, and the wandering wizards in Cornwall only ever gathered near a port on the Atlantic coast.

As long as you stayed away from those places, you were fine.

But was that really true?

Sure, a shotgun might scare off a starving wolf pack and drive them into the wilderness—but wolves could always find another way around a threat.

For instance, they might enlist foxes or moles to dig a tunnel underground. That way, they’d bypass the guns entirely and head straight for the back garden.

When Barty Crouch Jr. stepped out from the passage and saw the strange and varied streets ahead, a flicker of excitement and madness flashed in his eyes.

“What a marvelous piece of work,” he said, sticking out his tongue in excitement. “I can’t believe the legend was true. A hidden tunnel running from beneath the sea in Cornwall all the way to Devon!”

“Too bad we didn’t have enough manpower—otherwise it wouldn’t have taken us a whole year to finish,” said a wizard with short reddish-brown hair, stepping forward and giving Barty Crouch Jr. a scrutinizing once-over.

The muscles on his arms were as solid as marble, and a scar that ran across his entire face gave him a menacing look.

“Bubblay Lennis,” the man introduced himself. “Owner of a second-hand Dark Magic shop.”

“Barty Crouch... the Dark Lord’s most loyal servant.”

When Lennis noticed Barty’s habit of occasionally flicking out his tongue, he couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his mouth.

Did he get stung by a bee?

Are all British wizards like this?

And when he heard Barty’s self-introduction, he finally couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing.

“Ha—ha ha... Sorry, couldn’t help it,” Lennis grinned, revealing yellow, grimy teeth. “That’s the first time I’ve seen someone proudly call themselves a servant. Were you crossbred with a House-elf or something?”

The others around him laughed openly.

“You—”

The hooded wizard stepped forward, but before he could speak, he suddenly clutched his neck and groaned in pain.

Thud!

A head dropped to the ground the next second, rolling to a stop at Barty Crouch Jr.’s feet.

“My apologies. My men can be careless. Leaving things like that lying around—unacceptable,” Lennis said blankly, waving his wand and sweeping a skull-shaped necklace away from the corpse’s feet.

“Are you provoking the Dark Lord?” Barty Crouch Jr. growled, raising his wand with a twisted expression.

“You haven’t even unified Britain... The Dark Lord? What a laughable title.” Lennis scoffed.

“Avada Kedavra!”

“Avada Kedavra!”

Two jets of green light collided in the air, erupting into a larger orb of blinding energy.

And just like that, the battle began—completely unexpectedly.

But moments later, both wizards broke the magical connection in unison.

“Not bad. You’ve got some power,” Lennis said, staring at Barty. “According to our deal, that witch Lestrange was supposed to come. Why the change?”

“That useless fool? She’s dead.”

“Is that so? What a shame.” Lennis glanced at Barty’s wand hand. “But if I recall, she had a certain mark.”

Barty rolled up his sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark on his arm. A deep green serpent slithered out of a skull’s mouth, twisting and coiling, vivid and lifelike.

The snake’s eyes seemed to carry a strange magic. They locked onto Lennis, and he instinctively stepped back.

“Very well,” he said, his expression sobering slightly as he glanced once more at the Mark. “As agreed, we’re willing to join this... Dark Lord. But remember the deal: once he wipes out the Ministry of Magic, Cornwall and Devon are ours.”

“And you still owe us a commission—thirty thousand Galleons.”

“No problem. The Dark Lord never shortchanges his followers.” Barty turned his head. Immediately, someone beside him stepped forward and dropped a heavy chest onto the ground.

The chest popped open, revealing piles of glittering gold Galleons. A few of the surrounding wizards began breathing faster at the sight.

“I think you’re mistaken,” Lennis said, leaning over the chest and taking a deep breath of the gold’s scent before looking up at Barty. “We’re partners. And we’re not House-elves.”

Barty’s face twisted again, but this time, he held back.

“Yes. Partners.” He forced a smile and made up his mind.

Anyone disloyal to the Dark Lord would meet a swift end. But now wasn’t the time. Once the Order of the Phoenix was dealt with, these clowns would be next.

He worked hard to keep his expression steady, but the effort only amused Lennis.

It was obvious—this one was just like Lestrange. A dark wizard raised in an ivory tower. Strong, maybe, but only loud in his own home. Never seen the world.

Too green. His intentions were plain as day.

Not that Lennis cared. Everyone had their little schemes. As long as the Galleons were real, what else mattered...

Lennis lovingly stroked the coins in the chest. Just as he reached to close it, he caught a glimpse—out of the corner of his eye—of a wand.

A wand that had appeared out of thin air.

Without hesitation, Lennis instinctively rolled to the side...

BOOM!

A spell struck the spot he’d just left, obliterating the chest and sending a cascade of gold coins raining down.

At the same time, Lennis whipped out his wand and pointed it at an open patch of ground behind the Death Eaters.

Pffft!

A dull thump rang out, as if something had ignited—leaving behind a scorched mark hanging in the air.

Clank!

A broken piece of wood hit the ground and rolled twice. More precisely, it was a wooden prosthetic leg—still slick with fresh blood.

“Alastor Moody!”

Lennis erupted in fury. As someone who regularly dealt with Aurors, he recognized Moody’s prosthetic leg at a glance. The moment he realized Moody was escaping, he turned and pointed his wand straight at Barty Crouch Jr.

“Damn it, you actually brought an Auror here? Kill them!”

“I’d say you’re the one who gave us away!” Barty Crouch Jr. nearly exploded with rage.

He knew exactly how Alastor Moody had gotten there. Judging by his position, Moody had been trailing their group from the very beginning.

In other words, he hadn’t fallen for Gilman’s trap at all—he’d been following Moben, their contact. Those two fools had been the ones deceived.

But given the current situation, there was no way Barty could admit the truth.

Spells burst in the air like fireworks, one after another.

Meanwhile, not far away in the woods, Alastor Moody was limping along as fast as he could.

He had been the one trailing the Death Eaters under an Invisibility Cloak. His original plan had been to disguise himself as one of them and assassinate the wandering dark wizard named Lennis, sparking internal chaos. He just hadn’t expected Lennis to have such keen instincts.

But it made sense—after all, Lennis was a dark wizard who’d evaded capture across multiple countries. His wanted posters could fill a book. Without sharp instincts, he’d be long dead.

Right now, Moodyʼs only hope was to get out of the woods acting as their buffer zone as quickly as possible.

His expression was grim.

His Apparition had been interrupted earlier. While the Splinching had only affected his prosthetic leg, it still left him injured and unable to Apparate again any time soon.

He could only hope the chaos he’d caused would buy him a bit of time—just enough to get the message out.

Lennis’s group numbered well over a hundred, and with that hidden tunnel leading straight to Devon, if the Order of the Phoenix remained unaware, they were in serious danger.

With that thought, Moody pushed himself to move faster. Missing a leg—even with temporary support from Transfiguration—was a huge handicap.

It wasn’t long before a spell flew toward him from behind.

Bang!

A blast of green light struck him squarely in the back, and Moodyʼs body burst apart.

“Transfiguration!” Barty Crouch Jr. came charging in from behind, half of his face scorched black—clearly injured.

“A legendary Auror like him wouldnʼt go down that easily.”

Lennis arrived a moment later. The two seemed to reach an unspoken truce, temporarily halting their fight to prioritize hunting down Moody.

“I’ve already sent people to the exit—he’s not getting out!” Lennis said coldly. “Split up. Signal immediately if you find anything. He’s been hit with a Fire Curse—he won’t get far.”

“No way we’re letting one wounded Auror slip through with this many people!”

At his command, the group behind him immediately scattered. Barty Crouch Jr. waved a hand, and the Death Eaters joined the search as well.

The two men then each picked a direction and sprinted off.

Shortly after their departure, a patch of mud nearby began to stir, then a hand reached up from the ground.

Moody hauled himself free and leaned against a tree, gasping for breath. His magical blue eye spun wildly in its socket.

He’d barely escaped, but only just.

Moody knew all too well—getting out of here was next to impossible.

This was Lennis’s territory, and they had sheer numbers on their side. Trying to evade over a hundred wizards? Nearly hopeless.

If he still had his Invisibility Cloak, he might have stood a chance. But it was ruined.

Now, his only option was a desperate one—risk another Apparition.

Given his condition, using it now would definitely result in Splinching. But if he only sent his head, it might work.

As long as he could get his head out, he could take advantage of the fact that Splinching injuries didn’t manifest immediately—and get the message out...

“Well, well, Professor Moody—need a hand?”

A cheerful voice rang out from behind him.

Moody jerked in surprise. His magical eye spun so fast it looked like it might pop out the back of his head.

Without hesitation, his wand fired a bolt of red sparks behind him.

“It’s me, Professor Moody! Don’t shoot your own ally!”

“You think that trick will fool me?” Moody sprang up from the ground. “Kyle wouldn’t be anywhere near here at a time like this.”

“Now that’s not fair. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Kyle shrugged. “What, do I need a ticket to enter?”

Moody didn’t respond—not even a word. He raised his hand and fired two spells in quick succession.

Kyle had intended to use the Shield Charm again—but the moment he realized the second spell was green, he dove hard to the side.

“The Killing Curse... Professor Moody, don’t you think that’s a bit much?” Kyle patted his chest, still shaken. He couldn’t be sure his Silver Shield would’ve held up against it.

“I gave up thirty thousand Galleons to save you—thirty thousand! And you cast the Killing Curse on me?”

“Prove your identity,” Moody said, wand still raised.

“You came to Hogwarts during my fifth year,” Kyle said. “Our first lesson was on recognizing the Unforgivable Curses—and we learned the Shield Charm.”

“That’s not enough. Draco Malfoy knows that too,” Moody replied with a frown.

Kyle rubbed his forehead. Did he just compare me to Draco Malfoy? That was more insulting than the Killing Curse.

“Fine. The Order of the Phoenix headquarters is at 12 Grimmauld Place—the ancestral home of the Black family.”

Moody’s good eye narrowed sharply.

“You’re really Kyle?”

“Of course. A Death Eater couldn’t possibly know the Order’s headquarters.”

“Then... how did you end up here?”

“Mr. Weasley gave me an address—some lighthouse in Devon. I decided to take a chance and check it out. Didn’t expect to stumble across something real,” Kyle said.

He really had gone to Devon on Mr. Weasley’s tip and had just happened to catch the Death Eatersʼ rendezvous.

“How did I not spot you?”

“If you could follow the Death Eaters using an Invisibility Cloak, why couldn’t I follow you with one?” Kyle sighed. “Honestly, I thought you knew I was there and just didn’t say anything. Right up until you jumped out, I didn’t even react... Professor Moody, doesn’t your magic eye see through Invisibility Cloaks?”

“The eye can only see through one layer of Invisibility Cloak...” Moody said after a moment of silence.

He’d been under a cloak himself—of course he hadn’t seen Kyle, who was also cloaked.

“Ah, that makes sense.” Kyle nodded. “Still, when you jumped out like that just now, you scared the life out of me, I—”

“No. They’re back.” Moody’s magical eye shot back into the socket at the back of his head. He gripped his wand tightly. “Get out of here. Go tell Dumbledore what’s going on!”

“Ah, there’s no rush. Mainly because... I don’t actually know where Dumbledore is right now.”

Compared to the tense Moody, Kyle seemed entirely at ease—so much so that Moody started to wonder if he’d defected.

In the blink of an eye, a dozen figures appeared around them.

“I knew something was off earlier.” Lennis stepped from the crowd, glaring at Moody. “You’re injured—there’s no way you should’ve been able to move that fast. Can’t believe you actually slipped right past us.”

“You’re not getting away this time.”

“Bubblay Lennis...” Moody looked around at the surrounding wizards, his heart sinking.

There was no time to run. Worse yet, Kyle was still with him.

What was this, a buy-one-get-one-free execution?

If the timing weren’t so dire, he would’ve yanked Kyle by the ear and demanded to know why he hadn’t just left. Whether it was delivering a message or calling for backup—anything would’ve been more useful than sticking around for this pointless conversation.

“Wait. Who are you?”

Lennis had just now noticed Kyle standing behind Moody.

“Just an innocent passerby,” Kyle said, raising both hands. “Um... carry on. Just pretend I’m not here.”

“Are you insulting my intelligence?” Lennis sneered. “I don’t care who you are. If you’re here, then you can stay and keep Alastor company.”

Lennis didn’t take Kyle seriously. The kid looked barely twenty—just a nobody in his eyes.

He focused back on Moody, eyes glinting with barely contained excitement. “How thrilling. The legendary Auror who filled half of Azkaban, dying by my hand? You didn’t see that coming, did you, Alastor?”

Moody said nothing. He didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he shut his eyes tightly—even the magical one burrowed into the back of his head.

Kyle had just whispered behind him, telling him to close them.

Under normal circumstances, Moody would never do something so reckless in battle. But somehow, in that split second, his instincts made a decision—to trust Kyle.

The next moment, Moody felt something slip past him—followed by a chill that swept over his remaining leg.