Chapter 685: Who Said I Came Alone

In a room resembling a grand conference hall, the Death Eaters caught up with Harry and the others, who were desperately trying to escape.

“Stop!” Bellatrix cried, flinging a spell that hit Ron, who was lagging behind. He collapsed to the ground, and she swiftly grabbed him, locking his neck in a chokehold.

“Gotcha, you running rats,” Bellatrix said gleefully, her eyes darting toward Harry. “Guess how long he’ll last under Cruciatus? I remember the Longbottoms holding out for three hours. Such sweet screaming...” She glanced down at Ron, still struggling in her grasp. “Can you outlast them? I hope so,” she muttered, her grin widening.

“Leave me alone,” Ron said shakily, his legs trembling in terror, but his voice remained steady. “Leave me alone, Harry. The prophecy must not fall into You-Know-Who’s hands.”

Bellatrix raised her wand, aiming directly at Ron’s head. “Crucio!” she yelled.

Ron let out a gut-wrenching scream and curled into a ball under the assault of the curse.

“Ron!” Mr. Weasley shouted in anguish, struggling to free himself from the grip of two Death Eaters holding him back.

Seeing Ron in agony and hearing Mr. Weasley’s frantic cries, Harry hesitated before reluctantly raising his hand, offering the prophecy globe.

“No, Harry! The Death Eaters won’t keep their word!” Mr. Weasley roared. “They’ll kill Ron the moment they get it!”

“No, no, no, we’ll let him go,” said a masked Death Eater, stepping forward to snatch the globe from Harry’s hand. A sinister sneer twisted his lips. “Let go, then kill…”

“Stupefy!”

The nearby door burst open, and Lupin, Tonks, and Kingsley stormed in. A flash of red light shot from Kingsley’s wand, striking the Death Eater, who collapsed face-first onto the ground.

“Damn it!” Bellatrix screeched, hurling Ron aside like a rag doll as she raised her wand again. “The prophecy globe—”

But Harry was faster. The moment the Death Eater fell, he dove forward, snatching the globe back and clutching it tightly. Meanwhile, Tonks hurried to Ron’s side, pulling him out of harm’s way.

“Just in the nick of time,” Kingsley panted. “Alastor, you really shouldn’t have let us get separated.”

“It was the safest way,” Moody growled, dodging a curse as his magical eye whirled frantically. Despite his efforts, a sudden spell from the shadows struck him square in the back, sending him sprawling with a bloodied wound.

Though he had been a legendary Auror, age was catching up with Moody. Battling two Death Eaters at once was already pushing his limits, and the odds were growing worse.

Kingsley sprang into action, leaping to Moody’s side to relieve some of the pressure. “Don’t worry about me!” Moody barked through gritted teeth, snatching up his dislodged eye and forcing it back into its socket. “Lucky it wasn’t a Killing Curse, bastards!”

Kingsley gave him a quick glance before rushing to Hermione’s side. She was standing frozen, her wide eyes locked on a Death Eater approaching from behind. Kingsley deflected the incoming spell and shouted, “Watch your back, girl! Stick to the wall if you can.”

Hermione, though overwhelmed, nodded stiffly, gripping her wand tighter.

“Well, now the whole bloody lot of them are here,” Bellatrix cackled, her gaze landing on Tonks. She raised her wand with glee. “Avada—”

“Confringo!”

Her spell was cut off mid-incantation.

“Come on, show me what you’ve got!” Sirius taunted, stepping forward with a defiant grin.

Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed, and a blinding red spell shot toward him. Sirius, anticipating the move, transformed into a black dog, dodging the curse, then shifted back to his human form.

“Is that all?” he sneered. “How disappointing.”

Bellatrix’s laughter grew shriller as she launched an onslaught of spells at him, which he deflected with equally aggressive counterattacks. Their duel turned into a dazzling display of magic, a chaotic blur of flashing lights and deafening booms.

The two seemed evenly matched, locked in a fierce standoff. But the rest of the battlefield told a different story.

The Death Eaters’ numerical advantage was taking its toll. Hermione and Ron, less experienced in combat, were soon disarmed and cornered. Moody, though stubbornly fighting, succumbed to his injuries and tumbled down a flight of stone steps, landing in a crumpled heap. A maskless Death Eater stood over him, laughing cruelly.

Antonin Dolohov pointed his wand at the fallen Auror. “Get up, you worthless relic… Crucio!”

The tide of battle was turning rapidly in the Death Eaters’ favor. Sirius, preoccupied with Bellatrix, now found himself fending off spells from multiple angles. The pressure mounted as he tried to guard against sneak attacks.

Meanwhile, Harry stood alone, inexplicably facing only a single Death Eater. His opponent seemed uninterested, casually throwing a half-hearted spell whenever Harry attempted to flee.

“Looks like we’ve won…” Bellatrix’s triumphant cackle echoed through the room, her voice dripping with malice as she toyed with Sirius, relishing her perceived victory.

“Not so sure about that,” came a faint voice from above the crowd.

Bellatrix’s head snapped upward instinctively. Standing at the top of the stairs, framed by the doorway, was a figure she hadn’t noticed before. Her grin faltered slightly as her eyes adjusted, falling not only on the person but on the creature standing beside him—a sleek, dark form with an aura of foreboding.

The sudden appearance drew everyone's attention. The room stilled, and a murmur swept through the gathering.

“Kyle?” Mr. Weasley’s voice wavered, heavy with disappointment. For a fleeting moment, he had thought it might be Dumbledore come to save them. But as the truth registered, he shouted in alarm, “Run, you’re not—”

His voice was abruptly cut off. His words died in his throat as the leopard-like creature beside Kyle stepped forward, its sleek form moving with predatory grace. Its neck arched, and then began to swell unnaturally, almost grotesquely, like an inflating blowfish.

Harry’s breath caught as he watched, unsure of what kind of creature it was. A strange, heavy quiet enveloped the room as the animal exhaled. A faint purple smoke billowed from its puffed neck, spreading rapidly outward like an ominous mist.

For a split second, the room froze. It was as though time itself had stalled, every eye wide and fixated on the creature.

Then chaos erupted.

“Damn it, why is there a Nundu in the Ministry of Magic?!” a Death Eater shrieked.

“Run!” another howled.

“Do you want to kill everyone?”

“Stop! Stop it!”

“No, stop!” Bellatrix’s manic confidence wavered as she instinctively stepped back, her voice rising with panic.

The room descended into a frenzy. Antonin Dolohov abandoned his torment of Moody, bolting for the far side of the chamber without a second glance. The other Death Eaters, trembling with fear, left Hermione and Ron lying helpless on the ground and scrambled for cover, crawling and tripping over one another in desperation. Even Bellatrix, who moments earlier had been reveling in her dominance, was retreating, her expression a mixture of rage and trepidation.

“Ron, Hermione!” Harry shouted, seeing his unconscious friends left behind. He started to move toward them, but Mr. Weasley grabbed his arm, holding him back.

“Don’t go over there! It’s Nundu venom—you’ll die!” Mr. Weasley’s voice cracked, his face pale with anguish.

Harry froze in place, staring helplessly at the spreading purple smoke that was now beginning to engulf Ron and Hermione. “But they’re still there! I have to save them!” His voice broke with desperation as he struggled against Mr. Weasley’s grip.

“It’s too late, Harry!” Mr. Weasley said, his voice trembling as he held Harry tighter, pulling him back.

The venomous smoke spread rapidly, swallowing Ron and Hermione in its deadly haze. Mr. Weasley clenched his jaw, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep Harry from breaking free. His heart twisted with agony as he watched the scene unfold.

Why was Kyle doing this? Why was he commanding a Nundu to unleash such destruction?

Mr. Weasley’s mind raced, grasping at any explanation. Was this truly Kyle? Was it someone disguised with Polyjuice Potion? But his better judgment crushed those desperate hopes. Only a handful of people could control a Nundu, and Kyle was unmistakably among them.

The Death Eaters, in their panic, cast Bubble-Head Charms on themselves.

“It’s no use…” Kyle said calmly, his voice cutting through the commotion. He raised a hand and wagged a finger as though scolding them. “The Nundu’s venom can penetrate your skin through clothing.”

His words sent a fresh wave of terror through the Death Eaters. They scattered, moving even faster, tripping over one another in their haste to escape.

Lupin, amidst the chaos, stopped suddenly. He turned his gaze upward, locking eyes with Kyle. Something in Kyle’s expression, or perhaps in the scene itself, seemed to dawn on him. His tense shoulders relaxed, and a faint sigh of relief escaped his lips.

Without another word, Lupin stood motionless, letting the purple smoke wash over him.

“Remus!” Sirius’s voice cracked with fear.

Now Mr. Weasley not only had to hold Harry but also had to free a hand to pull Sirius closer.

“Remus... let go of me. Remus isn’t here yet... I have to save him!”

“Shut up, Padfoot. Stop embarrassing yourself.”

A familiar voice came from the smoke, and Sirius blinked in confusion as he saw Lupin, unharmed.

“You... you’re okay?”

“Of course I am. Didn’t you see?” Kyle walked over, calm and composed. He pulled out his wand and gave it a casual wave. A plume of purple smoke, identical to the surrounding haze, emerged from its tip.

“I just changed the color of the smoke spell. What could possibly happen? You didn’t really think I was going to kill everyone, did you?”

“Sorry, Mr. Weasley,” Kyle added, turning toward him. “The only way I could rescue Ron and the others—who couldn’t move—was to make the Death Eaters feel a mortal threat. It was the most effective approach.”

“Huh? Oh, yes... that’s right,” Mr. Weasley mumbled, his face flushed as red as if it had been painted. “You did well. Thank you.”

“Professor Lupin...” Kyle turned his gaze back to Lupin. “When did you figure it out?”

“When you mentioned that the Nundu’s venom could enter the body through clothing,” Lupin replied evenly. “As far as I know, its venomous mist isn’t nearly as fearsome as you described. Also, the color was slightly off.”

“That was intentional—to make it more conspicuous,” Kyle said with a smile. “You really are one of Hogwarts’ most popular Defence Against the Dark Arts professors... unlike some people.”

He cast a sideways glance at Sirius, whose face was streaked with the remnants of tears. Shrugging, Kyle imitated Sirius’ earlier voice. “Remus... I have to save Remus... Aren’t you a bit distrustful of me?”

Sirius’ face turned a shade of red so deep it rivaled Mr. Weasley’s. He wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Mr. Weasley looked no less mortified.

“So, the Nundu...”

“Of course, it was fake,” Kyle said brightly. “What do you think? My Transfiguration Spell was pretty impressive, wasn’t it?”

“Remarkable,” Kingsley admitted sincerely. When he had seen the Nundu earlier, the terror that gripped him had been visceral—far too real to feel like a mere Transfiguration. That fear had compelled him to flee, just as it had the Death Eaters.

“How dare you play such a trick on us!” A furious voice snapped.

Antonin Dolohov stepped forward, trembling with rage. His eyes gleamed coldly, and behind him, the other Death Eaters glared at Kyle with equal hostility.

“Yeah,” Kyle said with a shrug. “I was just messing with you. Got a problem with that?”

A green flash streaked through the air—a Killing Curse.

But Kyle, as if he had anticipated it, casually stepped to the left. The curse missed him and hit the wall behind him.

“Thanks,” he said with a serene smile.

From the still-thickening smoke behind him, a low growl rumbled, deep and menacing. Lupin, standing closest to Kyle, caught a glimpse of two faint flashes of eerie blue light piercing through the haze.

“What do you plan to do next?” Bellatrix sneered, stepping out from the group of Death Eaters. “You don’t think you can take us all on by yourself, do you?”

Her words jolted Mr. Weasley, who suddenly remembered the gravity of their situation. Grabbing Kyle’s arm, he urged, “There are too many of them. Let’s run—”

“It’s too late,” Kyle said calmly.

The Death Eaters had already spread out, enclosing them in a tight circle within moments.

Bellatrix smiled darkly. “What’s the point of being clever and saving those pathetic losers? All you’ve done is buy them a little time. We’ll catch them again soon enough. And as for you, I’ll enjoy torturing you with the Cruciatus Curse—not just for a day, but for a whole year.”

“Gee, it’s been a while, Bella. Still the same charming personality,” Kyle said lightly, addressing her as if she were an old acquaintance. “But who said I came here alone?”

Kyle raised his hand, and the swirling smoke began to dissipate, revealing a Magical Creature resembling a leopard. Its six powerful legs supported a sleek body, and its pair of glowing, eerie blue eyes gleamed with menace.

“Transfiguration again?” one of the Death Eaters sneered. “Do you think we’ll fall for that trick—”

Before he could finish, the creature blurred into motion. It appeared in front of him in an instant, its sharp claws enlarging mid-swipe. With a bone-crunching impact and a scream, the Death Eater was flung away, landing in a motionless heap.

Harry shuddered at the sight, the scene triggering unwelcome memories. But the brutal effectiveness of the attack left no doubt in anyone’s mind—the creature before them was no Transfiguration but a living, breathing beast.

“Reducto!” Antonin Dolohov shouted, aiming his wand. “It’s just a Wampus Cat! So what?”

“Who told you I only had one?” Kyle replied with a grin.

Suddenly, a searing ball of fire shot past Kyle, and out of the flames emerged a massive dragon, its scales shimmering like molten metal as it unfurled its wings.

Some Death Eaters instinctively tore off their masks, rubbing their eyes in disbelief. A dragon? they thought. This must be a trick!

But before they could react, the ground began to quake. Emerging from the haze came an enormous three-headed dog, towering ten feet tall. Its heads were the size of tables, each one baring fangs as long as a man’s forearm, glinting with deadly intent.

Terror spread like wildfire. Several Death Eaters began trembling, their confidence evaporating at the sight of the creatures. Those fangs looked all too capable of ripping through their defenses with ease.

“Avada Kedavra!”

“Reducto!”

“Stupefy!”

Spells flew from all directions, streaking toward the creatures.

“Protect them!” Lupin shouted, stepping forward with his wand raised. He intercepted as many spells as he could, deflecting some with well-aimed counter-charms. But not all of them were stopped—several hit the Wampus Cat and the dragon, including a Killing Curse.

Yet the results weren’t what the Death Eaters had hoped. Fluffy, the massive three-headed dog, stumbled briefly but recovered with a growl, its eyes blazing with rage. It charged forward, its claws tearing into the earth as it roared.

Norbert, the dragon, was even less affected. Rising into the air, it spewed torrents of fire into the largest concentration of Death Eaters, scattering them like leaves in the wind.

Sirius, having regained his composure, joined the fray with enthusiasm. Laughing loudly, he disarmed and immobilized a Death Eater with a flick of his wand, tying them up before tossing them aside.

“Come on, don’t run now!” he taunted. “Where’s all that bravado you had earlier? Let’s see it!”

The battle swiftly turned one-sided. The presence of a Dragon and a Three-Headed Dog threw the Death Eaters into chaos.

Ordinarily, they could handle Magical Creatures with coordinated efforts, but every time they tried to focus their spells, Sirius and the others would intervene, disrupting their concentration. The strategy worked—protecting the creatures allowed them to fight back more effectively than defending themselves.

“This can’t go on,” Lucius Malfoy growled, limping over to Bellatrix. His mask was gone, burned away by the dragon’s flames, and most of his immaculately groomed hair was singed. But Malfoy didn’t care about his appearance now.

“We need to retreat!” he shouted. “At the very least, we need to lure those beasts away!”

But Bellatrix wasn’t listening. She dodged a stream of dragonfire with a roll, her focus shifting to Kyle. Her eyes narrowed, and she pointed her wand at him. Then, after a pause, her aim subtly shifted—to Harry, who was clutching the prophecy.

Harry, frozen in place, didn’t realize the danger until he was suddenly shoved aside. Something had kicked him, sending him tumbling to the ground just in time to avoid a lethal curse.

“Oh, thanks,” Harry muttered breathlessly, looking up at the Wampus Cat, which had saved him. He got to his feet, only to realize too late that the prophecy orb had slipped from his pocket during the fall. It rolled across the floor and shattered on a nearby stone step.