Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 923: The Battle Intensifies, and the Elder Wand Changes

Harry felt the world around him shift abruptly. Once again, he saw that wizard who bore such a striking resemblance to Dumbledore... the owner of the Hog’s Head.

He’d never imagined that the scruffy old wizard could be so formidable. He had been battling Voldemort ever since a moment ago—and the fight was still going.

Though he clearly looked far more strained than before, the fact that he had lasted this long was already incredible.

After all, this was Voldemort.

“No, that’s not right...” Harry shook his head.

What he needed now was to locate the three-headed snake, not to watch whatever Voldemort was doing.

Change, come on, change... Harry repeated over and over in his mind, trying to will a shift in perspective, to possess the snake.

But unfortunately, this wasn’t something he could control.

Perhaps the Horcrux’s consciousness was too faint. Most of the time, Harry could only access Voldemort’s thoughts through his scar; he only caught glimpses of the snake once in a great while.

In other words, Harry could watch through Voldemort’s mind, but he didn’t get to choose what he saw.

He tried everything he could—deep breaths, rapid blinking—but he still couldn’t shift his view. All he could see was the increasingly grim face of the Hog’s Head’s owner.

“No, he’s not going to hold out much longer!” Harry suddenly shouted.

“Harry, what’s wrong...” Hermione was startled, thinking something was wrong with him, and quickly rushed over to check.

But Harry didn’t respond.

At that moment, he had no time to worry about the three-headed snake. He stared, tense and anxious, at the images forming in his mind.

Just now, he’d suddenly seen the Hog’s Head owner’s hand tremble—he nearly dropped his wand.

He wasn’t a match for Voldemort. If this went on, he’d be killed. Harry couldn’t help but panic.

If the owner of the Hog’s Head was killed... who else could stand against Voldemort?

Could Professor McGonagall? the thought slipped into Harry’s mind.

...Yes. She could. She had to. Professor McGonagall was a powerful witch—she had even been Headmistress of Hogwarts.

Harry clung to that thought, trying to convince himself.

But just then, his vision abruptly changed... The Hog’s Head’s owner vanished, replaced by a vast, starless night sky.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could faintly see the Astronomy Tower of the castle, growing smaller and smaller.

After a few seconds, Harry suddenly realized—Voldemort had fled.

Strange, he thought. Didn’t Voldemort still have the upper hand just a moment ago?

Why would he run?

Harry quickly told the others what he had seen. Ron and Hermione both stared at him, mouths agape, visibly shocked and confused.

Kyle said nothing. He simply sprinted out of the castle and looked up toward the direction of the Whomping Willow.

Sure enough, only Aberforth remained there, hunched over, one hand on his back, gasping for breath.

As Kyle approached, he could still hear him muttering under his breath:

“That shameless bastard Albus... actually didn’t come out... just wait, I’ll break his nose again...”

Kyle paused for a moment, then continued walking as if he hadn’t heard Aberforth’s curses or the bitterness in his voice.

It was understandable. After all, he had nearly been killed by Voldemort just now—a little resentment was only natural.

“Mr. Aberforth, you actually defeated Voldemort...” Kyle stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Looks like no one realizes that you’re an even more powerful wizard than Professor Dumbledore.”

“Hmph!” Aberforth snorted, though his expression softened slightly.

He could tell Kyle was just flattering him, not being sincere—but still, he liked hearing it. Even if he knew it wasn’t true.

“I’ve done what I promised. The rest is up to you!” he said. “And I didn’t defeat that Dark wizard—his wand was the problem.”

“His wand?” Kyle asked, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Something was wrong with it. You don’t get it even when it’s that simple?” Aberforth shot Kyle a look, then explained with some effort, “I could feel it. The wand was rejecting him—especially when he tried casting powerful spells. The stronger the magic, the more obvious it was.”

“Just now, the wand even cracked. That’s the only reason I’m still alive.”

Aberforth made no attempt to hide the fact that he couldn’t beat Voldemort. In truth, even now, he was still shaken by the battle.

It was an overwhelming kind of power, irrational and beyond anything he’d imagined. In Voldemort’s hands, dark magic—strange, potent, and deadly—flowed with ease, no incantations needed...

In terms of raw spell strength, this Voldemort was every bit the equal of Grindelwald from over seventy years ago.

For a moment, Aberforth had truly thought he would die there—until the wand turned on Voldemort at the critical moment...

“Let me ask you something,” he said abruptly. “That thing he’s using—is it the Elder Wand? Did Albus give it to him?”

“Huh?” Kyle had been lost in thought and didn’t react at first. After a moment, he nodded.

“Yes, it’s the Elder Wand—but he stole it.”

“The Elder Wand was with Professor Dumbledore until Voldemort somehow found out and plotted to take it. He managed to steal the most powerful wand.”

“Hah, no wonder,” Aberforth let out a cold laugh. “He had the nerve to take something from that treacherous bastard? Whatever happened to him isn’t surprising.”

“Mr. Aberforth...” Kyle said softly, “He didn’t exactly take it. Voldemort used Ollivander to threaten Professor Dumbledore. That’s how he got the wand.”

“Naive fool,” Aberforth muttered. It wasn’t clear whether he was talking about Kyle or Voldemort.

He didn’t elaborate. He simply switched the wand to his other hand and limped toward the school.

“Tell Albus I’ve done what I promised. And tell him not to bother me again.”

He had just about reached his limit. If Dumbledore had died, he might’ve stayed to fight to the end. But since Dumbledore was still alive... he’d much rather go home and check whether his goat had been frightened, than stay here playing the hero.

The main gates were no longer an option, so he’d have to return to the Hog’s Head through one of the school’s secret passages.

Kyle didn’t try to stop him.

Voldemort wasn’t someone you could just hold off, and Aberforth now had to grip his wand tightly just to keep from dropping it.

In his current condition, let alone facing Voldemort again—even a single Death Eater could be enough to kill him.

“Oh, right.” Aberforth suddenly seemed to remember something. He stopped, turned back, and said, “That Dark wizard’s probably going to deal with his wand next. You’d better hurry and clean up the rest of those scumbags.”

Before Kyle could respond, Aberforth turned around and walked off without a glance back.

“What an impatient man,” Kyle muttered, rubbing his forehead.

But Aberforth wasn’t wrong—they really did need to take care of the Death Eaters now.

Kyle looked around.

At the moment, the largest group of Death Eaters was near the school gates—along the same path the Thestral carriages had taken at the start of term.

Voldemort had somehow brought in several Giants—not many, only five. They were likely ones who’d been exiled over the years and tricked by the Death Eaters into joining the attack.

They led the charge with thick wooden clubs, trying to smash through Hogwarts’ defenses in one go. But the statues and armor guarding the gate met them with long-handled axes, cutting them down swiftly.

The Death Eaters behind them didn’t fare much better.

With their magic-resistant bodies and weapons laced with Acromantula venom, the stone-armored statues managed to hold off the brunt of the Death Eaters’ assault.

Of course, that “main force” only referred to numbers. The truly powerful Death Eaters could fly—they had no need to charge in with the main group.

Dark mist churned above Hogwarts, blotting out nearly all moonlight.

Kyle returned to the castle, but Harry and the others were nowhere to be seen. They must have moved on with a different plan.

Crossing the Great Hall, Kyle made his way up the stairs... He wanted to find Kanna first, but the castle was in utter chaos. In this kind of mayhem, it was nearly impossible to locate anyone. Even the two-way mirror gave no response.

As he reached the sixth floor, a tapestry suddenly ripped open—two masked Death Eaters burst out from behind it.

“It’s you!”

They clearly recognized Kyle, but before they could even draw their wands, a powerful force hurled them backward into the secret passage.

Then, a bare mandrake root dropped from the passage’s entrance, landing squarely between them.

“Bang!”

Kyle shoved a table over to block the entrance, trapping the mandrake’s ear-piercing screech inside.

Incidentally, he’d grabbed the table from nearby—Professor McGonagall was commanding them into battle, charging forward with incredible momentum.

Her hair was loose, her cheeks bore several fresh cuts, but she didn’t seem to care. If anything, she looked years younger.

She glanced briefly at Kyle in greeting, then turned to lead her marching battalion of tables and chairs around a corner, shouting, “Charge!”

“She really is the Head of Gryffindor,” Kyle muttered, clicking his tongue before continuing upward.

He searched all the floors but didn’t find Kanna. Instead, he ran into Bill and Charlie on the eighth floor.

The fighting here was even fiercer—maybe because it was close to the Astronomy Tower. Many of the Death Eaters who had descended from the sky had chosen this area to land.

The corridor was packed. Masked and unmasked Death Eaters clashed with staff and students, while portraits on both walls were crowded with shouting figures offering advice and cheering support.

Kyle instinctively reached for his suitcase, but after a moment, shook his head and shut it again.

No good. Things were far too chaotic. Death Eaters and Hogwarts students were all tangled together—nothing in the suitcase would be of use here. He’d have to stick with the basics.

Peeves came screeching overhead, yelling “Ho ho ho ho!” as he hurled Snargaluff pods at the Death Eaters’ heads with reckless enthusiasm.

“That’s not going to cut it, Peeves!” Kyle shouted. “Go to Greenhouse Five—there are Ironthorn pods there! Pick the ones with the longest spikes!

“And those Dungbombs I gave you last time—you’ve still got some, right? Don’t hoard them, bring out the whole stash!”

“At once, sir!”

Peeves flipped twice in the air and zipped out the window, heading straight for the fifth greenhouse.

Ironthorn pods looked like sea urchins and were incredibly hard—far more effective than Snargaluff pods in a fight.

Once he was gone, Kyle drew his wand and aimed at the nearest Death Eater. Each swing sent one crashing to the ground, unconscious.

“Let’s take this one out first!”

Maybe Kyle’s spells were too loud—one masked Death Eater noticed how fast he was clearing enemies and tried to rally others to eliminate him first.

Kyle raised his wand and slashed it down with force!

A few seconds later, a painting on the left wall suddenly expanded and slammed into the Death Eaters’ heads with a loud thud.

Stupefy—physical edition.

Kyle had originally intended to transfigure part of the wall, but it hadn’t worked—his magic didn’t affect the castle walls. So he’d quickly shifted his aim to the portrait instead.

Luckily, that had done the trick.

“Well done, young man! That’s it! Smash them to bits!” the knight in the portrait cheered, practically bouncing with excitement.

He couldn’t do anything directly—but if his painting knocked out a few Death Eaters, then it counted as helping, right?

In that instant, it was as if all the portraits found new hope. They started enthusiastically recommending themselves to nearby students and staff.

“Hey there, lad! Looking for a proper weapon? Try this frame—nice and sturdy!”

“Check out mine—pure iron birch! Not much else to it, but tough as nails!”

“Tough? Pah! Pick me! I’m heavier than a boulder!”

...

Prompted by the portraits’ persistent recommendations, some students really did start pulling them down from the walls.

They might not be ideal for offense, but as makeshift shields, they worked surprisingly well.

After all, portraits were, in a way, part of Hogwarts itself—imbued with the same protective qualities as the castle walls. At the very least, they could deflect two or three spells.

With Kyle joining in and bringing new weapons into play, it wasn’t long before the surrounding Death Eaters were cleared out.

“Kyle, perfect timing!” Charlie called, walking over while suspending several Death Eaters in midair with netting. He shouted to the students nearby, “Head up to the observatory! The Aurors are on their way. Hang in there—we just need to hold out until they arrive!”

Led by Dean and Parvati, a group of students immediately climbed the Astronomy Tower and formed a defensive circle, ensuring they couldn’t be ambushed from any direction.

“What’s going on?” Kyle asked.

“Sirius was knocked down. We have to hold this position,” Bill said, wiping blood from his face. He pulled out a crate of potions and began handing them out to the others, then looked up at Kyle.

“You should stay here with us. There are a lot of Death Eaters in this area, and we’re short on hands.”

“I don’t mind,” Kyle replied. Then he added, “But have you seen Kanna? She and Fleur returned from France before the battle began.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bill said as he tightened a bandage around an injured student’s arm. “She was with us the whole time—up until Sirius was ambushed.”

“Kanna was attacked too?” Kyle asked, visibly concerned.

“No, she wasn’t,” Bill said, then fell silent for a beat. “I’m not sure how to say this... Do you know who ambushed Sirius?”

The look on his face made Kyle immediately think of someone.

“It was Snape,” Bill said softly a second later.

Just as he’d suspected... Kyle rubbed his forehead.

“At the time, we were helping Sirius hold the line and stop Death Eaters from entering the castle,” Bill continued. “Then Snape appeared. He attacked Sirius—openly, as a Death Eater.”

“Kanna saw it all. And Snape saw her too. He looked... shocked. Maybe even terrified. Then he ran.”

“Where did he go?” Kyle asked urgently.

“I don’t know,” Bill said, shaking his head. “Sirius tried to stop him, and the two of them fell from the Astronomy Tower... But they’re fine. I checked—there was no sign of them at the base of the tower, so they must have landed elsewhere.”

“And Kanna disappeared too,” he went on. “It must be hard for her, realizing that her own relative is a Death Eater... I should’ve gone after her, but as you can see, I can’t leave the tower.”

As he spoke, two more Death Eaters came flying in, trailing thick black smoke.

But before they could land on the Astronomy Tower, a flaming dragon’s head materialized out of thin air and lunged at them.

The fire-dragon’s head was larger than the entire tower. The two Death Eaters were swallowed whole in an instant, without a chance to resist.

Its jaws snapped shut, and crimson flames burst out in all directions. Moments later, everything went still—almost as if those two Death Eaters had never existed.

“Kyle, you...” Bill’s throat bobbed as he stared in disbelief at the thin thread of flame glowing at the tip of Kyle’s wand.

He already knew Kyle was powerful—stronger than most members of the Order of the Phoenix—but conjuring Fiendfyre of that magnitude, just like that... wasn’t that a bit much?

This was the Fiendfyre Curse, not a simple Fire-Making Charm. Didn’t he even need to prepare?

And in just seconds, the fire-dragon had sprouted a body and wings. Its sheer size and heat were nearly enough to set the entire tower ablaze.

“I’m fine,” Kyle said calmly, taking a deep breath as he flicked his wand.

The flame at the wand’s tip vanished, and the towering Fiendfyre dragon outside dissolved into ash within seconds.

As much as Kyle wanted to let it circle the battlefield, he couldn’t risk it—Fiendfyre was far too easy to lose control of. A moment’s distraction could endanger Hogwarts’ students and staff. That was a risk he could never take.

“Where did Snape and Sirius go?”

“My guess is that way,” Bill said, pointing to a shattered window just below the Astronomy Tower. He no longer pressed Kyle to stay and help.

“You might want to ask the portraits and ghosts along the corridors—someone might’ve seen them.”

“You’re probably right,” Kyle replied. He turned to leave. “I’ll go check it out and come back shortly.”

“No worries. It’s not that bad here,” Bill said, glancing at the students nearby—several of whom still looked faint from the shock of seeing the Fiendfyre dragon.