Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 943: Back to Nurmengard

Neither the professors nor the student council could have anticipated what just happened. The flames still burned around them, but Kyle had vanished without a trace.

Even Kyle hadn’t expected Fawkes to suddenly appear and whisk him away to...

Wait—where was this place?

Looking up at the towering trees surrounding him, Kyle felt a strange sense of familiarity.

It had to be a forest, but he couldn’t say exactly where. All he could be sure of was that it definitely wasn’t the Forbidden Forest.

Wait—forest?

A thought suddenly struck him.

Fawkes wouldn’t have brought him here for no reason. Someone must have sent the phoenix—and Fawkes had been inside his suitcase all this time, without contact with anyone else.

That left only one possibility: Dumbledore. A phoenix could sense Dumbledore’s situation and appear when he was in need.

And Dumbledore had gone off because of Voldemort… Oh no—could this place really be Nurmengard?

Kyle’s heart gave a sudden jolt.

Nurmengard was surrounded by forest too. And now that he looked more closely at the trees around him, the environment looked more and more like the one etched into his memory.

He’d been chased by Rosier and the others through this very kind of forest—an entire night of running.

“No way…” Kyle turned to confirm with Fawkes.

But the phoenix had already vanished. Instead, he saw someone falling from the sky—hurtling straight toward him.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” Kyle didn’t have time to think. He reacted on instinct, swinging his wand.

The fallen leaves on the ground rose in an instant, piling into a thick cushion just in time to catch the falling figure and keep him from hitting the ground outright.

It was an elderly wizard—very old. Kyle glanced at him and couldn’t help the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

He was sure now. This was definitely Nurmengard.

He recognized the man. The memory was vivid—when he’d first come seeking Grindelwald, this man had been beside Rosier, one of the group that had hunted him down. He’d only been stopped by a Nundu in the end, becoming little more than a prop to buy Kyle some time.

Kyle flicked his hand, and the cushion of leaves burst apart. The man crashed heavily to the ground with a sharp crack.

Judging by the sound, something had definitely broken.

Not that it mattered—Kyle didn’t care in the slightest.

That man had chased him for a whole night. Kyle had never been pushed to such desperation. The fact he hadn’t killed him on the spot was already merciful.

If he’d known, he wouldn’t have helped him land safely at all.

Standing there, Kyle hesitated for a moment—then turned and bolted without a second glance.

The moment he realized he was in Nurmengard, all he wanted to do was run.

Voldemort, Grindelwald, Dumbledore... Just hearing those three names together spelled disaster.

He had no intention of getting involved. He just wanted to go back to Hogwarts. But sadly, Apparition was blocked around Nurmengard.

And with Fawkes nowhere to be seen, Kyle had no choice but to rely on the most basic method—running.

Going forward was out of the question. Wouldn’t it be better to just stay in the castle, attend some classes, raise a few dragons? Why get tangled up in the decades-old grudge between Dumbledore and his two greatest rivals?

Fawkes really should’ve come on his own. Why drag Kyle along? He was just a newly graduated, completely unremarkable Hufflepuff. What had he done to deserve being dragged into all this?

And besides, it had already been an entire day since Voldemort and Dumbledore had left Hogwarts.

For wizards of their level, a day was more than enough time to accomplish a lot… They might already have reached Grindelwald.

Even though Nurmengard’s location was supposed to be a secret, Dumbledore’s anxious reaction at the time made it clear: it wasn’t a secret that couldn’t be discovered.

In other words, Voldemort might have found this place—and that was why Dumbledore was so on edge.

So what now? Had Voldemort already killed Grindelwald to fully claim the Elder Wand?

It wasn’t out of the question.

Grindelwald had been imprisoned for who knew how many years. Without a wand, weak as he was, he might be no stronger than an old Muggle man. He might not stand a chance against Voldemort.

And from the way that wizard had fallen just now, it seemed like Voldemort may have already made his move.

With that thought, Kyle picked up his pace again. Right now, all he wanted was to get outside the anti-Apparition barrier and head straight back to Hogwarts for reinforcements.

Alone, he was far too weak. Ideally, he’d bring all the professors with him—facing Voldemort would feel a lot less terrifying with a full staff backing him.

The only downside was that flying made you too visible. Otherwise, he’d already be soaring through the air on a broomstick.

Kyle’s pace quickened even more. Finally, through the endless sea of identical trees and leaves, he thought he caught a faint, flickering blue light.

But why blue?

Oh, Merlin…

Boom!

Before Kyle could react, a massive dragon formed from blue fire exploded above his head.

Countless tongues of blue flame scattered in all directions—many of them flying straight at Kyle.

“Damn it—Fiendfyre…”

There was no time to wonder why Fiendfyre had appeared here. Kyle instantly raised his wand.

“Incendio Totalum!”

A burst of flame shot from his wand tip, spinning into a vortex in midair that drew all the blue Fiendfyre toward it.

Everything in front of him was obliterated, and at last, Kyle saw what was going on.

Two figures were suspended in the air, facing off against each other.

One of them was Dumbledore, who had left Hogwarts just yesterday. Kyle had expected the other to be Voldemort—but what he saw instead was a figure as gaunt as a skeleton.

“Grindelwald?!” Kyle blurted out instinctively.

What made his scalp prickle even more was that Grindelwald had a wand in his hand.

This... this couldn’t be right.

He had to be overtired—still dreaming. There was no way Grindelwald could have escaped from Nurmengard.

Trying to act casual, Kyle took two steps back, then turned to leave...

“Oh? Look who’s here...” came a mocking voice from behind him.

“We meet again. Why so eager to run off? If I remember correctly, you still owe me something.”

Kyle froze mid-step—then bolted, tearing his Firebolt out of his suitcase as he ran.

Grindelwald seemed surprised by how decisively Kyle fled. He blinked, then turned to Dumbledore.

“Albus, this is your reinforcements?”

“A coward?”

“Kyle’s no coward,” Dumbledore replied, shaking his head. “I suspect he just doesn’t want to get caught up in all this.”

“All this?” Grindelwald raised an eyebrow. “You mean... me?”

“Yes. You are the biggest problem,” Dumbledore said gravely.

“Albus, let’s not forget—it was your people who tried to release me,” Grindelwald said. “I always assumed that decision came from you.”

This time, Dumbledore remained silent.

“You wanted to free me too, didn’t you?” Grindelwald pressed, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice.

“I never thought of doing that.”

“Liar.”

“I swear, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, I have never once considered letting you out.”

“...” Grindelwald stared at him. “You’re still as cutting as ever, Albus.”

The next second, both men raised their wands at once.

A beam of golden light shot toward Grindelwald.

But he seemed to have anticipated the move, and with a slight turn, evaded it effortlessly.

At the same time, a nearby tree seemed to come alive, spiraling toward Dumbledore—only to disintegrate mid-air into a cloud of dust, as if it had struck an invisible barrier.

Even though Kyle had already run some distance, the battle between the two still affected him.

His Firebolt suddenly wobbled and dropped from the sky, as if something had disrupted its flight.

“I have to stop him...” Kyle vaguely heard Dumbledore’s voice, distant but distinct. “Only you can save him now.”

Kyle looked up. Dumbledore wasn’t anywhere in sight—but the voice had been real.

Dumbledore wanted him to save someone.

Who...?

Kyle quickly thought of Snape.

It had to be him. After all, even if Snape had once saved Voldemort, he’d also told him the true master of the Elder Wand was Grindelwald.

If Voldemort had come here, he’d surely have brought Snape with him.

Realizing this, Kyle let out a sigh.

So Fawkes hadn’t made a mistake after all. It had brought him here on purpose... Had Dumbledore given it instructions in advance?

Or had Fawkes simply sensed that bringing him would help?

Kyle looked at his Broomstick, now completely grounded, and sighed again.

He’d been running away—how had he ended up right in the middle of the storm?

Getting out now seemed nearly impossible.

And honestly, even without Dumbledore’s voice, Kyle had already stumbled straight into another battlefield.

At the center stood a familiar figure—Rosier, the witch—and several elderly wizards. Voldemort was among them.

They appeared to be enemies, locked in a fierce magical duel.

Not far away, Snape lay motionless on the ground... He was probably still alive—otherwise, Dumbledore wouldn’t have asked Kyle to save him.

Kyle had planned to circle around the edge—but he’d underestimated just how “popular” he was. He’d barely taken two steps before he was spotted.

“We meet again,” Rosier said coolly, still floating in midair. She didn’t miss a beat—hurling an Avada Kedavra at Voldemort mid-sentence.

Grindelwald had ordered her to kill the Dark wizard—and after nearly seventy years, it was the first order she’d received. She wasn’t about to disobey.

“Avada Kedavra!”

Two equally powerful Killing Curses collided in midair, and the resulting explosion instantly snapped several trees clean in half.

Watching the scene unfold, Kyle muttered under his breath, “Usually it’s Voldemort casting the Killing Curse on others… this might be the first time he’s ever had to face one himself.”

Voldemort’s primary opponents had always been Dumbledore and members of the Order of the Phoenix—people who generally avoided using the Killing Curse.

Those who used it often were Death Eaters, and thinking about it that way, Voldemort really hadn’t had much experience dealing with someone casting that spell at him.

But now, he’d come up against Rosier—a dark witch who’d earned her name decades ago. In fact, when she was slinging Killing Curses, Voldemort had still been playing pretend with Muggle children in the orphanage.

Though Voldemort had long since surpassed her, Rosier was no ordinary Death Eater. Having just suffered a defeat and without a proper wand, Voldemort actually found himself at a loss against her—for the moment, at least.

Of course, it wasn’t easy for Rosier to kill him either, especially after he killed Tinos and got hold of his wand.

Even an ill-suited wand became a deadly weapon in Voldemort’s hands. At this point, he had already killed seven of their fighters.

Thinking of this, Rosier’s expression darkened. She raised her wand again and hurled another Killing Curse at him.

Kyle glanced at Snape, still lying motionless on the ground, then looked back at Voldemort.

He didn’t know what had happened here before he arrived, but judging by the current situation, this looked like a real opportunity—

An opportunity to kill Voldemort.

“Madam Rosier, let’s work together!” Kyle shouted.

“Get lost and stop dragging me down!” Rosier snapped irritably. She didn’t believe for a second that Kyle could be of any help.

If it weren’t for Grindelwald’s orders, she might have killed this fool for daring to use Fiendfyre on Nurmengard.

But Kyle wasn’t fazed by her coldness. If anything, he would’ve loved the chance to settle the score for that night she hunted him through the forest.

Still, they had a common enemy now.

Kyle didn’t wait for Rosier’s response. The moment he shouted, his wand was already raised.

They were in a forest—he might as well consider it his home turf.

The trees around him began to stir, rolling and writhing toward the heart of the battlefield.

Rosier turned, startled. She hadn’t expected this Hogwarts student to be capable of such a large-scale spell.

And its power... wasn’t insignificant.

The writhing branches rapidly spread across the battlefield, surging forward and tightly constraining Voldemort’s movement.

At first, Voldemort dismissed it all as little more than a cheap trick—until a slender vine coiled around his leg.

He hadn’t expected that thin strand to be so strong. It nearly crushed his bones. The searing pain distracted him just long enough that Rosier’s Killing Curse came dangerously close to landing.

He barely dodged it at the last second—and nearly wrenched his body out of joint doing so.

From that moment on, Voldemort was forced to divert some of his focus to fending off the increasingly aggressive branches and trunks.

More than once, he was tempted to incinerate them all with Fiendfyre—but each time, he held himself back.

After so many encounters, Voldemort had come to understand Kyle’s strengths, and he didn’t believe for a moment that Kyle was unaware of plant magic’s weaknesses.

This had to be a trap—to lure him into casting Fiendfyre.

Voldemort instinctively thought back to the Hebrides, where Kyle had stolen his Fiendfyre right out from under him.

And at Hogwarts, Kyle had slowly guided him into slaughtering over a hundred Death Eaters—an act that had turned the tide of the battle.

This boy was far too cunning—nothing like the direct, predictable Dumbledore. Voldemort couldn’t afford not to overthink things.

So this time, he held back. He would rather expend more time and effort than make the mistake of torching the plants too easily.

That decision, however, gave Rosier the breathing room she needed.

Where she had previously struggled to hold her ground against Voldemort, now—with Kyle’s support—she was starting to gain the upper hand.

As for Kyle, he wasn’t overthinking things. While casting a few spells at Voldemort, he focused on controlling a tangle of vines, trying to drag Snape off the battlefield.

It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this. Kyle had assumed it would be a simple task.

After all, in the middle of a chaotic battle, who would waste time watching over an unconscious man?

But he tried twice—and failed both times.

It was as if Voldemort had suddenly developed feelings. He kept a close eye on the unconscious Snape, and each time Kyle tried to move him, a spell came flying in to stop him.

More than once, Voldemort even risked taking one of Rosier’s attacks directly, just to keep Kyle from taking Snape away.

That wasn’t normal.

Kyle frowned. Voldemort should never care so much about a Death Eater—not even one who’d once been his most trusted, not even one who had saved his life.

Voldemort had no emotions. That was the price he’d paid for creating Horcruxes. To him, every Death Eater was just a tool.

And he would never risk injury to protect a tool.