Chapter 928: Chapter 928: This Isn’t Fair!
Kyle had no idea what kind of relationship Voldemort and Harry had now, but he had noticed something rather interesting... Whenever those two got together, they always ended up doing things that defied all logic.
Take Harry, for instance. When he saw Voldemort, his first instinct wasn’t to flee with his friends, but to hide and eavesdrop. Even when he realized there was a risk of being discovered, he just kept doing his own thing, ignoring the danger entirely.
It was completely irrational, as if his curiosity and recklessness had been amplified to an extreme.
Of course, that was just Kyle’s take. When it came to Harry, behavior like this somehow didn’t seem all that out of place.
Voldemort, on the other hand, had changed in a way that was much more obvious.
The moment Harry appeared, Voldemort’s attention seemed to be instantly drawn to him—as if the two were magnets, locked onto each other with unshakable focus.
When Kyle had followed Harry and the others outside, he’d been sure for a moment that he’d been exposed. But when Voldemort walked right past him at the entrance without even glancing his way, Kyle realized he was probably safe.
It was as if Voldemort hadn’t even noticed he was there.
Which was bizarre. Kyle’s invisibility spell wasn’t particularly advanced—certainly nothing that should fool someone of Voldemort’s caliber. With just a bit of focus, a wizard like him would easily detect the traces of surrounding magic.
Yet Voldemort didn’t bother. His gaze remained locked on Harry the entire time.
And then there was the Runespoor—that snake Voldemort had been guarding like a prized possession. The moment Harry showed up, it was completely forgotten, cast aside without hesitation.
That was a tough pill to swallow.
Clearly, Kyle wasn’t one to endure such tests. As soon as Harry rescued Hermione and everyone rushed in to confront Voldemort, Kyle decisively retreated back into the secret passage. On the other end, in a different room, he found the Runespoor Voldemort had abandoned.
When Kyle arrived, it was drooling as it circled the Malfoy family.
Lucius, Draco, Narcissa... three people, and it had three heads—perfect. All it needed was a word from Voldemort, and it would be feasting in no time.
Lucius and Draco Malfoy were completely petrified, trembling and curled up on the ground, barely daring to breathe. Their faces and lips were as pale as the dusty wall beside them.
"Creak..."
A sharp noise broke the room’s eerie silence.
Someone had stepped on the wooden floor.
In the room with the snake and two people, five pairs of eyes snapped toward the source of the sound.
"Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting." Knowing he’d been discovered, Kyle ended the spell and slowly revealed himself.
He’d planned a sneak attack, but hadn’t expected the floor to creak underfoot. He wasn’t sure if Sirius had overlooked that detail or if he’d deliberately left the floor that way—as a kind of makeshift doorbell.
After all, if Harry were coming from Hogwarts, he’d definitely pass through here. A little noise could serve as a warning for Sirius.
Not that it mattered anymore.
At the sight of an unfamiliar wizard, the Runespoor instantly reared up, all three broomstick-sized heads opening their jaws wide, revealing rows of razor-sharp fangs.
Among magical creatures associated with snakes, the Runespoor is one of the more well-known species. With a danger rating of 4X, it’s second only to the Horned Serpent and the Basilisk, and is considered one of the most dangerous snake-related magical creatures a wizard might actually encounter.
After all, the Horned Serpent and Basilisk aren’t something ordinary wizards are likely to come across.
Typically, a Runespoor measures around six to seven feet in length—but the one before him was anything but typical.
From head to tail, it stretched nearly twenty feet, with a body thicker than an adult wizard’s thigh.
Runespoors of this size were extremely rare, even among 5X-rated magical creatures. As one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes, this one clearly had its own unique traits.
Kyle raised his wand.
"Stupefy!"
The twenty-foot Runespoor was blasted into the air, crashing hard against the wall behind it, then went still.
"Long time no see, Malfoys." Kyle looked down at Lucius and Draco.
"Looks like your loyalty hasn’t exactly earned you Voldemort’s favor. Seems he’d rather turn you into pet food."
"Kyle..." Draco Malfoy finally managed to speak, but fear had so overwhelmed him that he couldn’t get out a full sentence. He just kept repeating,
"You promised me... You promised me..."
"It wasn’t me—it was Professor Dumbledore..." Kyle gave him a glance.
Draco looked utterly defeated.
"Well, I did come to fulfill his promise," Kyle said with a shrug. "You’re lucky you didn’t die just now—otherwise Professor Dumbledore might’ve had to break his word."
Kyle pointed his wand forward, and the door swung open—specifically, the entrance to Hogsmeade.
The Death Eaters stationed there immediately noticed something was happening. But before they had time to react, a thick, sharp vine shot out from the wall of the nearby teahouse, piercing straight through their chests.
Then Kyle stepped out of the room.
Maybe it was because of how close Hogsmeade was to the Forbidden Forest, but the village was full of trees and vines—which worked greatly to Kyle’s advantage.
He returned a few minutes later.
"You’re free to go," Kyle said. "Oh, and one more thing..."
He looked toward Lucius, and at Narcissa, whom he was carrying on his back. "Make sure you report to the Ministry of Magic and give a full account of everything you’ve done."
"Don’t think you can get away with the same tricks you pulled more than a decade ago. If you try it, I’ll come looking for you."
Lucius Malfoy didn’t respond. He just gave Kyle a long, unreadable look, then turned and walked out.
But as soon as he stepped through the doorway, he froze.
As a Death Eater, he knew that Voldemort had left people behind to secure this area—and not just a handful. There had been at least thirty Death Eaters stationed here to help take over the shops quickly.
Now, they were all dead.
If he wasn’t mistaken, Kyle had only been gone a few minutes at most.
Lucius swallowed. If the Cruciatus Curse earlier hadn’t already emptied his stomach, he might have vomited on the spot.
"What are you waiting for?" Kyle’s voice came from behind. "Move. Voldemort could be back any second."
Lucius forced himself forward, each step feeling heavier than the last. The stench in the air made it almost impossible to breathe.
To be honest, he was no longer sure who was more terrifying—Voldemort or Kyle.
Probably still Voldemort... After all, Kyle hadn’t killed them—at least not yet. He’d even let them walk away.
"I... I’ll go to the Ministry of Magic," Lucius said hoarsely, coming to a halt.
Whatever he’d thought before, at least now—or perhaps the moment he stepped out of that room—he truly did want to atone for the mistakes he’d made.
"I’ll speak on your behalf," Kyle said with a flick of his wand and a slight smile. "After all, Draco and I are sort of friends."
Draco Malfoy flinched. At this point, he didn’t even dare lift his head.
"That snake..."
Lucius suddenly paused again and turned back. "That snake is important to the Dark Lord... to Voldemort. You’d better find a way to kill it."
"Thanks for the warning. I will," Kyle replied.
Just then, the unconscious Runespoor began to stir.
The head on the far left opened its eyes first, then immediately bit down on the other two heads.
The pain and venom quickly broke the effects of the Stunning Spell—but before the Runespoor could fully rise, three strands of Fiendfyre had already coiled around its neck.
In the next moment, the Fiendfyre tightened violently.
Its red scales blackened and charred in an instant... like a red-hot knife slicing through butter, the Fiendfyre cut clean through the Runespoor’s body.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The three snake heads hit the floor one after another.
From the severed neck, something began to ooze out—a twisted, thick, black substance.
With a flick of Kyle’s wand, the dying Fiendfyre flared back to life and leapt onto the tar-like sludge.
Fiendfyre didn’t discriminate. In the blink of an eye, it had devoured the black substance completely—nothing remained, not even ash.
As it vanished, Kyle faintly heard an almost inaudible, distant scream of agony—echoing from the fragment of Voldemort’s soul.
But that sound, too, was consumed by the flames.
Serves him right, Kyle thought. Leaving a Horcrux here to tempt me—how could I possibly resist something like that?
He shook off his wand and bent down to pick up one of the Runespoor’s heads.
But just as he stepped forward, his chest tightened with a sudden jolt—like something terrifying had fixed its gaze on him.
Well... who cares. It’s not the first time.
Kyle walked over, casually grabbed one of the snake heads off the floor, and turned back toward the secret passage behind him.
...
Meanwhile, on the grounds of Hogwarts...
The sudden change on the battlefield left everyone stunned. No one could understand how Voldemort—fine just a moment ago—had suddenly collapsed, writhing in pain as though suffering from some terrible affliction.
A surprise attack?
But who could possibly ambush Voldemort?
The Death Eaters were especially alarmed. Barty Crouch Jr. tried to approach to ask what was wrong, but he too was blocked by the magical lava.
His status as a so-called core Death Eater meant absolutely nothing at this moment.
Scrimgeour’s eyes lit up.
He didn’t know what had just happened to Voldemort, but this—this was an opportunity. A chance to strike. A chance to end him.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A jet of green light shot straight toward Voldemort.
Aurors never hesitated when it came to the Unforgivable Curses—especially against Death Eaters. From the day the war began, Death Eaters were no longer protected by the laws of the Wizarding world.
Let alone Voldemort.
But Barty Crouch Jr. was just as quick. He raised his wand and flung another Death Eater directly into the spell’s path.
A flash of green light—and the Death Eater, still unsure what was happening, dropped dead on the spot.
Voldemort slowly lifted his head from the pool of lava.
He cast a cold glance at Barty Crouch Jr., offering neither approval nor praise.
Then he raised his wand toward the newly opened passage, and from its tip erupted a Killing Curse—thicker and more forceful than Scrimgeour’s.
At the same time, he swung his free hand.
The molten lava on the ground surged, coming alive and coalescing rapidly—until a massive, fiery-red hand burst from below, grabbing the immobilized Scrimgeour in its burning grip.
"Ah!" A scream rang out across the skies above Hogwarts.
...
In the secret passage.
Kyle hadn’t even fully stepped out when a thick stream of green light—Avada Kedavra—cut across his path.
Voldemort had clearly been waiting for him.
Thankfully, Kyle had anticipated this. With a flare of fire, Fawkes spread his wings and used Apparition to whisk Kyle from the passageway straight back into Hogwarts.
A blaze of flame flickered—and Kyle appeared right in front of Voldemort.
At such close range, Voldemort immediately noticed the snake head in Kyle’s hand.
His eyes turned a deep, furious crimson as he let out a roar of rage.
"You... You dare... Unforgivable!"
Blazing with fury, Voldemort lashed his wand at Kyle again—igniting the battle once more.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Sectumsempra!"
The two spells collided in midair—and to everyone’s shock, they locked in a dead heat.
The invincible Voldemort had just met his match in a spell duel with Kyle.
No one could believe what they were seeing. Even Chris, caught in the middle of battle, rubbed his eyes, certain he must be hallucinating.
After all... this was Voldemort.
But Kyle wasn’t especially surprised.
He’d sensed it earlier—Voldemort still felt dangerous, but nowhere near as terrifying as before. In fact, he seemed noticeably weaker than he had back in the Hebrides Islands.
"Looks like taking three serious hits in a row in such a short span isn’t so easy to shrug off, is it?" Kyle said, eyeing Voldemort as he suddenly raised his empty left hand.
A stone spike shot up from the ground beneath Voldemort.
"Dual casting..."
"Wandless magic..."
Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick exclaimed at the same time, eyes wide with disbelief.
Even though it was just a basic Transfiguration spell, managing to cast another spell while in a direct magical clash was astonishing enough.
At Hogwarts, Professor Flitwick was the only one capable of pulling off something like that.
It was a classic dueling maneuver—technically difficult and of limited practical use. The thing was, wizards strong enough to manage it rarely needed it, and those too weak couldn’t rely on it to win. It only made a real difference when both duelers were evenly matched.
There was still a significant gap between Kyle and Voldemort—but that didn’t help Voldemort much when he was already injured.
The sharp stone spike pierced through the top of his foot, digging deep into his calf.
Voldemort jerked in pain—his wand hand faltered, and the magical connection broke.
The previously stable sphere of magical energy lost control and slammed straight into him.
Ding...
A clear, metallic ring echoed over the battlefield.
The blast was stopped by a small silver shield—the same defensive magic Voldemort had used at the Ministry of Magic to block Dumbledore’s attack.
Kyle was slightly disappointed, but it was within expectations.
Then, a gray beam shot in from the side.
Ding...
A matching silver shield appeared in front of Kyle—though his bore intricate rune patterns, far more refined than Voldemort’s plain one.
"You... you stole my magic!" Voldemort’s eyes seemed to burn even redder, and he hurled a barrage of dark spells at Kyle, as though they cost nothing at all.
He even felt a strange, simmering sense of grievance.
He stole my Basilisk... stole my spells... and this kind of wizard gets Dumbledore’s favor? He becomes a professor at Hogwarts?
Why not me?!
This isn’t fair!
"Hey now, don’t throw around accusations—who said I stole your magic?" Kyle called out as he fended off Voldemort’s relentless barrage. "This is authentic ancient magic, straight from Merlin himself. Has nothing to do with you, not even a Knut’s worth."
The ancient Shield Charm—he’d learned it on his seventeenth birthday from an old letter written by Merlin to his student.
So really, it had nothing to do with Voldemort at all. If anything, Kyle had just instinctively modeled the shield’s shape in a similar style while learning the spell.
"Alright, alright, if you don’t like it, I’ll switch it up," Kyle muttered under his breath.
Though he was nearly overwhelmed just trying to keep up with Voldemort’s spells, he still managed to find a brief moment to roughly transfigure the knight’s shield in front of him into a round one, and called out loudly:
"Better now?"
Voldemort gritted his teeth, looking as if he wished he could drive his wand straight through Kyle’s chest.
But in his fury, his aim began to falter. One Corrosion Curse even veered several feet to Kyle’s left—nearly shooting off into the sky.
That gave Kyle just the smallest window to catch his breath.
Still, it had to be said—Voldemort was something else.
Hit twice by Dumbledore’s spells, burned once by Fiendfyre, and now a Horcrux destroyed—his soul damaged—yet he was still this powerful.
Kyle even suspected that, if he hadn’t accidentally destroyed one of those Horcruxes in advance, Voldemort might have slaughtered everyone here despite his injuries.
No, direct confrontation wasn’t going to cut it. He needed a different tactic.
Kyle tossed another Runespoor head to momentarily distract Voldemort, and at the same time, slipped a round, unassuming object into the flurry of spells flying between them.
"Foolish child!"
Voldemort didn’t notice the trick—or perhaps he did, but simply didn’t care.
The gap in strength was too vast. Voldemort wasn’t concerned with any petty trick Kyle might pull; he didn’t think they could have any real effect.
He admitted he’d underestimated Kyle a bit. The damage to his soul, the spike through his foot, the sting of Kyle’s taunts—those had thrown him off enough to create an opening.
But that wouldn’t happen again. Confident as ever, Voldemort raised his wand to deflect Kyle’s next spell and end the fight for good.
He was done dragging this out. It was time to finish it.
With a casual wave, Voldemort used a burst of magic to swat aside whatever Kyle had tossed his way. At the same moment, green light surged at the tip of his wand.
"Avada—"
Bang!
A muffled explosion burst from the object the spell had touched—on impact, the small orb detonated.
A yellow-green spray of liquid shot out, splattering Voldemort full in the face—reeking with an absolutely revolting, sour stench.