Kyle's sudden appearance disrupted the tense situation in the tower.
As a result, an unusual scene unfolded: on one side stood a trembling Malfoy and a seemingly frail Dumbledore, while on the other, two Death Eaters were locked in a heated argument over Kyle's ownership, on the verge of breaking into a fight.
Kyle, however, paid them no mind. His gaze was fixed on a familiar figure in the crowd.
"Long time no see, Professor Oren," he said, extending a hand in greeting as if they were old friends reunited.
"Yes," Oren replied evenly. "It has been a long time. I'm surprised you still remember me."
"So, aren't you going to fight for it?" Kyle asked with a slight smile.
"What?"
Oren was momentarily caught off guard but quickly grasped Kyle's meaning. His eyes flickered toward the bickering Alecto and Antonin before he gave a casual shrug.
"No, I'm new here. I don't have much say," he said lightly. "I'll just let them sort it out."
"After all, the Dark Lord only ordered Draco to kill Dumbledore. As for you, he didn't give specific instructions. It doesn't matter who carries it out, as long as the job gets done."
"Really?"
"Of course. Why would I lie to you?" Oren replied smoothly.
With that, he strolled over to the window and sat down, making himself comfortable—like a spectator settling in to enjoy the show.
…
Tsk. Kyle shrugged, feeling a tinge of disappointment.
His indifference didn't sit well with the surrounding Death Eaters, their dissatisfaction palpable.
Alecto and Antonin, rather than continuing their quarrel, reached an agreement—attack together, and whoever managed to kill Kyle would take the prize.
Just as the two of them raised their wands, the door behind Kyle exploded.
A massive, flaming arm smashed through the oak, sending shards of wood flying. Then came the head, the body… In mere seconds, a towering Giant of fire materialized behind him.
Due to the confined space, only its head and arms could fully form, while below the neck, waves of Fiendfyre churned violently.
The temperature in the tower soared, heat pressing down on everyone like an invisible force. The air crackled with energy, filling the space with the eerie sound of roaring flames.
"Kyle, you…"
Dumbledore's voice trailed off, momentarily stunned. In such a limited space, unleashing Fiendfyre was reckless—it spared no one, attacking indiscriminately.
But there was no time to dwell on it. In a blur, he moved to the corner, his hand reaching out to grasp Harry, who had been hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak.
At the same time, his other hand caught a flying wand midair, flicking it toward Malfoy.
An invisible force yanked Malfoy from danger, pulling him to Dumbledore's side just as the Fiendfyre closed in. The flames halted a mere five inches from the three of them, held at bay by magic.
Malfoy, having escaped a fiery fate, stared at the roiling flames in front of him. His body trembled violently, his breath coming in ragged gasps—until finally, he collapsed. Tears and snot streaked his pale face as his eyes rolled back, and he passed out.
The others weren't as fortunate.
The Death Eater nearest to the door was the first to fall—Fiendfyre's blazing fist struck him squarely in the chest. He barely had time to scream before a dark shadow flashed past, slashing his throat. His body crumbled into ash.
The surrounding Fiendfyre, seemingly sentient, shifted aside, making way for the sleek, spotted figure that had just delivered the final blow. The Nundu.
"Gibbon! Damn it—"
"Protego Totalum!"
"Protego!"
Panic erupted among the Death Eaters, their horrified screams echoing through the tower.
The windows shattered under the intense heat, and Fiendfyre surged outward, spilling through the openings like molten lava. From the ground below, it must have looked as though a colossal torch had been planted atop Hogwarts, its searing light piercing the night sky.
Seconds passed. Or perhaps minutes.
Then, abruptly, the flames vanished.
Hogwarts, protected by its ancient magic, had withstood the inferno. The tower remained structurally intact, though its stone had darkened from the heat.
Inside, Harry and Malfoy, safeguarded by Dumbledore, remained unscathed.
As for the Death Eaters…
Snape and Oren had been the quickest to react. The moment the Fiendfyre surged inward, they smashed through a window and escaped.
Kyle wasn't sure if Oren had deliberately positioned himself near the window, but he had been the fastest to flee—disappearing so swiftly that even Kyle barely had time to register it. Gone in the blink of an eye.
Antonin, the one who had been so eager to kill Kyle moments ago, also managed to escape. At the last second, he turned his wand on Alecto, using her body as a shield against the first wave of flames. Then, without hesitation, he severed his own right leg, which had already been engulfed in fire, and forced his way through the window.
Alecto, betrayed and left behind, lay motionless on the scorched floor. She was barely clinging to life, but unlike Gibbon, she had managed to survive—saved at the last moment by the Shield Charm.
The Nundu prowled forward, moving with lethal grace.
It had unfinished business.
Kyle had once instructed it carefully: to avoid a Blood Debt, the final strike should always be left to magical creatures. This was why the Nundu had killed Gibbon, even though the Fiendfyre had already done most of the work.
It approached Alecto, muscles tensed, ready to finish the job.
But before it could strike—
Alecto vanished.
The Nundu froze for a moment, its ears twitching. Then, its nose wrinkled slightly, catching a scent. Slowly, its gaze shifted.
It fixed its piercing eyes on Dumbledore.
Lowering its body, its poison sacs bulged once more.
Kyle reacted instantly. Without hesitation, he pulled out his suitcase and shoved the Nundu inside.
Good boy, baring your teeth at Dumbledore like that—are you looking for death?
He only had one Nundu. It was far too precious to lose here.
"I never knew you would bring such a dangerous creature," Dumbledore said, his gaze resting on Kyle. "The Nundu... in some ways, it is more dangerous than ten Death Eaters combined."
"I know, but this is a special situation," Kyle replied sheepishly.
He was about to graduate, and the last thing he wanted was trouble. What if he got expelled like Newt and ended up as an incomplete student? That would sound awful. So embarrassing if word got out.
Dumbledore said nothing, simply watching Kyle in silence.
But the quiet didn't last long.
"Professor, the Room of Requirement is locked, isn't it?" Kyle asked, though his tone made it clear he was certain of the answer.
The shift in conversation was unexpected, and this time, it was Dumbledore who hesitated.
"How did you know?"
"I guessed," Kyle said. "After all, Rowena Ravenclaw wouldn't have done something so unnecessary."
Dumbledore fell silent again.
"Professor, it looks like she's running out of breath." At this, Harry suddenly spoke up, his expression uncertain. "Are you sure this is okay?"
"I'll explain later," Dumbledore said, his eyes still on Kyle. "But for now, we should finish what we started."
Kyle thought the same. His gaze flickered toward Alecto, lying behind Dumbledore.
There should have been five elite Death Eaters this time, but two had escaped. The rest remained at Hogwarts.
He wasn't entirely satisfied with the outcome, but only slightly. He hadn't expected a single Fiendfyre Curse to wipe them all out.
After all, these were elite Death Eaters. If they had been so easy to eliminate, then Voldemort's standards for recruitment would have been laughable.
Besides them, the remaining Death Eaters in the castle were just cannon fodder, their presence meant only to bolster numbers and divert the professors' attention.
At that moment, Snape returned. He climbed back into the tower through a shattered window, his sharp eyes scanning the darkened walls before settling on Kyle. His expression turned complicated.
"Did you really have to use the Fiendfyre Curse?" His voice was low. "That's Dark Magic."
"But it's also the most effective," Kyle shrugged. "I was facing four enemies... well, maybe six?"
He whispered the last part, his gaze shifting toward Snape and the unconscious Malfoy nearby.
Snape's face darkened, and just as he was about to speak, Kyle continued.
"Anyway, under these circumstances, I couldn't afford to fight them head-on like an idiot. I had one chance to turn the tables while they were off guard."
"In a confined space like this, where Apparition is impossible, what could be more suitable than the Fiendfyre Curse?"
"What if the Fiendfyre had gotten out of control?" Snape snapped, his voice cold.
He had barely avoided it himself. If Dumbledore had been even a fraction slower, Harry and Malfoy wouldn't have stood a chance. They would have been burned alive.
"I trust Professor Dumbledore," Kyle said coolly. "Even though he looked weak and helpless just now—wandless, even—I knew he wouldn't just stand by when his students' lives were at stake."
Dumbledore's face twitched slightly, an almost imperceptible hint of embarrassment crossing his features. But he had no rebuttal.
He had his own plans, carefully laid out. But he hadn't expected Kyle to suddenly leave the Room of Requirement.
Kyle's interference had completely upended his expected outcome.
As they spoke, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from below.
Mr. Weasley had arrived. He stopped at the entrance, taking in the scorched tower and the lingering tension in the air.
"Lawless. Utterly lawless," he muttered, aghast. "These Death Eaters... they actually dared to use the Fiendfyre Curse in a school!"
But Bill, standing beside him, saw things differently.
His eyes drifted to Kyle, standing unharmed, then to Alecto, still unconscious on the floor. He coughed lightly, nudging his father's arm.
Mr. Weasley hesitated, his mind racing. Then, he recalled how Kyle had used the Fiendfyre Curse earlier—to burn through the barrier blocking their way downstairs.
Could it be…
"Ahem…" Mr. Weasley cleared his throat abruptly and said no more.
Instead, he turned to Dumbledore. "What about you, Professor? Are you all right?"
"Yes," Dumbledore replied softly. Then he turned to Snape. "Severus, would you be so kind as to escort Alecto and Mr. Malfoy to the Hospital Wing?"
"And keep a close watch on them. If any Death Eaters attempt a rescue, we must be ready. There is still much we need to ask them."
"I know," Snape said shortly. Without sparing Kyle another glance, he grabbed Malfoy and Alecto from the ground and strode toward the stairs.
Kyle didn't stop him. He simply watched as they disappeared down the spiral staircase.
"Let's go back, too," Dumbledore said. "Arthur, would you mind fetching the Ministry? I believe their people will be arriving soon."
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore," Mr. Weasley replied.
One by one, the others left the tower.
Harry walked at the back of the group, his gaze flickering toward Kyle in the crowd. There was fear in his eyes.
He had witnessed something similar before, but compared to the Triwizard Tournament, the Fiendfyre Kyle unleashed this time was even darker, almost sinister in appearance.
He suddenly felt disoriented.
An enemy that even Dumbledore had difficulty handling—dealt with just like that?
As if reading his thoughts, Dumbledore spoke softly, "It was a poor demonstration, Harry. Few would choose to use the Fiendfyre Curse in such a confined space. The Death Eaters likely never expected it."
Harry knew that.
Not only did he know, but he had seen the consequences before.
In his first year, in the fourth-floor storeroom where the Philosopher's Stone had been hidden, Quirrell had resorted to the Fiendfyre Curse in desperation, attempting to take everyone down with him. But he had been the first to fall, consumed by the very flames he had unleashed.
Oh, Kyle had been there too.
But unlike then, the Fiendfyre Kyle cast this time seemed almost sentient. Harry had noticed something strange—despite its uncontrollable nature, the flames never got within a foot of Kyle. The area around him remained untouched, the cleanest spot amidst the chaos.
Bill, leading the group, twitched slightly at their conversation.
Just as he suspected—Kyle had been the one behind everything.
The group exited the tower.
The dimly lit corridor was thick with dust, the remnants of destruction evident. A crowd had gathered, waiting.
Professor McGonagall, Sirius, Lupin...
A few Death Eaters were bound tightly, thrown haphazardly into an empty classroom with a broken door. Charlie stood nearby, keeping watch.
"Albus..."
"What happened, Dumbledore...?"
The moment they saw him, the others immediately surrounded him with anxious questions.
"Nothing. It has all been resolved," Dumbledore said, his voice slightly hoarse. His eyes briefly flickered toward Kyle before returning to McGonagall.
"How is the school?"
"It's all been taken care of," McGonagall answered.
"There were six Death Eaters in total, and we have them all."
"We also found the Vanishing Cabinet hidden in the utility room. Pomona has it secured with Devil's Snare, so it can't be opened from the inside."
"Good," Dumbledore said. "And the students?"
"They're safe," McGonagall assured him. "Most are in the common rooms with the professors, under protection. Except..."
Her gaze flickered toward Kyle and Harry.
The meaning was clear.
"Never mind," Dumbledore said. "Would you gather the students in the Great Hall, please? I have something to announce."
"Yes," McGonagall said, hurrying away.
Dumbledore led the others toward the foyer.
As they descended the stairs, a large figure hurried toward them.
"Thank goodness, Headmaster Dumbledore, you're here," Hagrid said.
"Hagrid, what is it?" Dumbledore asked.
"Oren—I saw him," Hagrid growled. "That traitor. He was just at the school. I tried to catch him, but the sneaky git slipped away... and he took someone with him."
"Not took—rescued," Dumbledore corrected, his voice weary. "Antonin Dolohov. He is a Death Eater as well."
"What? A Death Eater?" Hagrid blinked in realization.
No wonder. When he had chased after Oren earlier, the man had cast a spell at him.
"Did you catch him?" Kyle asked.
"No," Hagrid shook his head. "He was too fast."
"Yeah, he's really good at running," Kyle sighed.
Years ago, Oren had escaped even when surrounded by a group of Hit Wizards. After all this time, he was still free.
Minutes later, students began arriving, their expressions filled with confusion and concern.
At the same time, the Ministry of Magic made its entrance. Mr. Weasley led the group, with Fudge and Scrimgeour walking hurriedly through the castle doors. The moment they spotted Dumbledore, they rushed toward him.
Meanwhile, Harry edged closer to Hagrid.
"Hagrid," he asked, lowering his voice, "who is this Oren you keep talking about?"
"A treacherous betrayer and a Dark wizard," Hagrid spat. "He was also the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts the year before you arrived."
"What?" Harry's eyes widened.
He had never expected the elusive Death Eater to have such a history.
The year before he had enrolled had been Kyle's first year. No wonder they knew each other.
"What did he do?" Harry asked, his curiosity growing.
Hagrid's expression darkened, his anger unmistakable.
"He tried to steal a Unicorn foal from the Forbidden Forest—and he tried to kill Kyle."
Among all the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors in recent years, Hagrid despised Oren the most.
Even Umbridge had to come second.
Because no matter what Umbridge had done, she had never tried to kill a student.
Harry listened in silence, occasionally glancing back at Kyle.
He had never imagined that so much had happened at Hogwarts before he had even arrived.
This Oren... he's practically another Quirrell.
He couldn't help but think—Dumbledore's track record for hiring Defense Against the Dark Arts professors was really not great.