Chapter 941: Chapter 941: Mad-Eye’s New Home
After leaving the Great Hall, Kyle didn’t head anywhere else—he went straight back to his wooden cabin beside the Forbidden Forest.
He’d just come through a night of fighting, hadn’t even had an hour of rest, and had been running around again from the early morning until evening, dealing with all kinds of trivial matters. He was already beyond exhausted.
Back at the cabin, he didn’t even bother changing his clothes before collapsing onto the bed and falling into a deep sleep.
But not everyone wanted to let him sleep—especially those scheming wizards.
They came from all sorts of backgrounds and professions. During the battle between Hogwarts and the Death Eaters, they’d been nowhere to be seen, but now that the war was over, they were suddenly crawling out of the woodwork, wandering through the castle and fussing over the injured with exaggerated concern.
As the one who had fought Voldemort head-on, Kyle had naturally become a key target. But until now, he’d been too busy for them to find an opportunity to approach him alone.
Now, though, things were starting to quiet down.
So, with their various ulterior motives, these people made their way to the cabin, eager to get close to Kyle as soon as possible.
Most of them were stopped by the alchemical mist etched into the cabin door.
But a few managed to get through.
Seeing the others spinning in circles outside, they were quietly thrilled.
That smugness didn’t last long, though—a pair of glowing purple eyes lit up inside the dark cabin.
In the next moment, they turned around stiffly and joined the crowd wandering in circles, only to be chased off by Hagrid, who came over after hearing the commotion.
...
When Kyle finally woke up, it was nearly noon the next day.
The moment he stepped outside, he saw Hagrid working in the pumpkin patch.
The Death Eaters had destroyed it completely, and he’d only just planted new seeds the night before.
Next to the patch was someone talking nonstop.
It was a wizard Kyle didn’t recognize. Judging by the annoyed expression on Hagrid’s face, he clearly wasn’t a welcome guest.
Before Kyle could say a word, the man spotted him—or perhaps, he’d been watching Kyle’s cabin from the corner of his eye the whole time while chatting with Hagrid.
"Oh, isn’t that Kyle?"
He strolled over enthusiastically, wearing a broad, beaming smile.
For some reason, Kyle was suddenly reminded of a former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor... Gilderoy Lockhart. He, too, always had that same toothy, picture-perfect smile plastered on his face.
But unlike this man, Lockhart’s smile at least looked more natural.
"Don’t recognize me, do you?" the man said, catching Kyle’s puzzled expression and speaking with a practiced familiarity. "Chris and I go way back. Fudge used to talk about you all the time—everyone was jealous he’d found such a brilliant assistant."
Kyle raised an eyebrow.
There was no doubt the man was from the Ministry of Magic, though it wasn’t clear which department.
But he was painfully fake. Kyle couldn’t believe Chris would be friends with someone so insincere.
"I—"
"Oh!"
Kyle had barely opened his mouth when the man suddenly shrieked like he’d been stepped on by a three-headed dog, jumping in place.
His cry was loud enough that even Hagrid, some distance away, paused and looked over.
The sudden outburst startled Kyle. In a flash, images of last night’s duel with Voldemort surged in his mind, and his instincts kicked in—he drew his wand.
Bang! A muffled thud followed.
The man was blasted backward, crashing headfirst into the pumpkin patch.
"My mixed fertilizer!" Hagrid’s voice trembled with distress. "You idiot! I worked so hard to get that from Pomona—and you wasted the whole bucket!"
He bent over, frantically trying to salvage what he could, but from where Kyle stood, it was hard to see what exactly he was doing.
Still, from what he’d just heard, Kyle could piece together the gist.
Sorry, sorry... Kyle thought silently, not sure if the apology was meant for Hagrid or the unfortunate wizard he’d sent flying.
"Ha! Useless idiot!" came a cold scoff from behind him. "The Ministry’s full of trash like that. No wonder the Death Eaters replaced half of them without breaking a sweat."
The voice was familiar.
Kyle turned around—and exclaimed in shock, "Mad-Eye... you’re alive!"
And just like that, he understood why the man had screamed.
If he worked for the Ministry, of course he’d know Alastor Moody. But as far as anyone knew, the legendary Auror had long been dead—he might have even attended his funeral.
Seeing someone believed to be dead suddenly appear would’ve been terrifying for anyone. Someone with a weaker constitution might have fainted on the spot.
Unfortunately, his startled reaction had frightened Kyle too—who responded by instinctively blasting him with a spell.
In a way, he was lucky. Because Kyle had just woken up, he’d instinctively chosen the least harmful of his familiar spells: the Knockback Jinx.
Had he been a bit less fortunate, it might have been one of the more destructive ones instead.
"Long time no see, Kyle." Alastor Moody tapped his magical eye with a finger and asked, "Who told you I was dead?"
"No one," Kyle shrugged. "But someone saw the body of the dead leader of the wandering wizards—the one you were impersonating... What was his name again, Lex?"
"Lennis," Moody corrected him. "You don’t even remember your opponent’s name? That’s not very professional of you."
"It’s not important," Kyle waved it off. "I’m just a regular Ancient Runes professor, not an Auror. Why would I need to remember every opponent’s name? Besides, he’s dead now."
He sighed suddenly. "When I first heard the news, I thought it was you. But when I couldn’t find you and no one saw you, I figured you must’ve been taken away with the other dead Death Eaters by the Ministry."
"That obviously wasn’t me—it was the real Lennis," Moody said calmly. "Lennis incited the wandering wizards to betray the Death Eaters and dealt them a fatal blow from behind. It’s not surprising he was killed in retaliation."
"Oh, Merlin!"
At that moment, Kyle felt the ground tremble slightly.
Hagrid came sprinting over from the pumpkin patch, holding a wooden spoon. Even from a distance, a pungent stench carried on the air.
"Is that Mad-Eye?"
"By Merlin’s beard, is it really you? They all said you were dead!"
"Hello, Rubeus," said Moody. "Yes, it’s really me."
He made no attempt to conceal the truth and, with just a few words, convinced Hagrid that he had faked his death in order to carry out a secret mission for Dumbledore.
"Don’t tell anyone else," Moody warned. "My mission’s not over yet."
"Don’t worry," Hagrid said, thumping his chest. "My lips are sealed. I won’t breathe a word."
Kyle looked at him, hesitated for a moment, and sighed quietly.
Hmm... Harry and the others probably won’t care much about the wandering wizards or Moody. If no one asks him directly, Hagrid really might not spill anything... hopefully.
After a quick greeting, Hagrid agreed to keep watch outside while Moody followed Kyle into the wooden cabin, picking up where they’d left off.
"You killed Lennis, didn’t you?" Kyle asked.
"I did," Moody replied. "If someone had looked into it carefully, they would’ve noticed that Lennis had been acting out of character for a while. To win over his followers and betray the Death Eaters, he made far too many promises—most of which were impossible to keep... So the Death Eaters killed him."
"It really was them?"
"It was."
"What about the remaining wandering wizards?"
"Some died, but not many," Moody said with a sigh. "I’d hoped to get them to take the Death Eaters down with them, but I overestimated Lennis’s influence."
"The thing is, wandering wizards are fundamentally different from Death Eaters. They don’t have a cause—they only follow Galleons."
"Lennis managed to tempt them into betrayal with empty promises, but he couldn’t keep them going. Once they sensed real danger, they scattered immediately."
"I only had time to send out the Death Eaters’ attack route before the battle, and during the chaos, I took care of a few who were trying to sneak into the castle from the Forbidden Forest side."
"Isn’t that enough?" Kyle looked at him.
Wandering wizards might not have been elite fighters, but they were still stronger than most of the cannon-fodder Death Eaters. Anyone paired with them had to be at least somewhat capable.
If they’d managed to breach the castle, the casualties would’ve been far worse.
What Alastor Moody had done on his own was already remarkable.
"I just feel like I could’ve done more." Moody tapped his magical eye again.
Only then did Kyle notice the motion. He frowned slightly. "Wait, isn’t that thing supposed to be buried in a grave...? Don’t tell me you dug it out."
"Of course not. This is a different one—a spare I tried making myself," Moody said. His tone grew more irritable. "But the materials were crap. It keeps jamming... Damn it, stuck again."
He jabbed at the eye, which gave off a harsh creaking noise.
Kyle leaned in and noticed that the blue eye in Moody’s socket had none of the vitality of the original. It was stiff and lifeless—more like a polished stone sphere than a proper magical artifact.
Clearly, the material wasn’t the only issue. The craftsmanship also left a lot to be desired.
And Kyle seriously doubted that someone like Moody, an Auror famous for his brute strength, had any real talent in alchemy.
Odds were, he really had just carved it out of a rock...
"Forget your magic eye for a moment," Kyle said, unable to bear the creaking sound any longer. He deliberately changed the subject. "What are you planning to do next? I happen to know someone at The Daily Prophet—I could arrange a solo interview for you."
He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Something like ’The Hero Who Walked Alone in the Shadows.’ Then you could make a public return."
But to his surprise, Moody turned him down.
"No. I don’t think that’s necessary."
"I know you’re not fond of the people at The Daily Prophet, but if you show up like this, you’ll scare people—like that guy just now... Who was he, anyway?"
"Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Director of the Office for Magical Emergencies," Moody replied. "I don’t know him well, just that he used to be one of Cornelius Fudge’s people."
"Oh, alright," Kyle said casually, then turned back to Moody. "How about this—there’s no need for you to come forward at all. Just tell me what’s happened during this time, and I’ll take care of the rest."
"You’re misunderstanding. I meant that I prefer things as they are now." Moody glanced out the window at the distant silhouette of Hogwarts Castle.
"I’ve played the hero plenty of times. One more or less doesn’t matter. And this way, I avoid a whole lot of trouble."
"You mean... you’re not going to clarify that you’re still alive?"
"Exactly." Moody nodded. "That’s why I came to you. I figure, if Alastor Moody is dead, then there’s no point pretending he came back."
"Besides, I’m getting a bit too old for this. Retiring like this suits me just fine."
As he spoke, Moody pulled back the collar of his cloak, revealing a long scar near his neck.
He had plenty of scars, but this one was new—still bleeding. Yet Moody seemed unfazed and casually closed his collar again.
"I’ve nearly died several times," he said, his tone so calm it was as if he were talking about someone else.
"My wand’s broken too." He pulled out a fractured wand, the core exposed at the break.
"Honestly, this isn’t a bad way to retire."
"I still think you should reconsider," Kyle said.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want Mad-Eye to retire—he just couldn’t ignore Moody’s notoriously paranoid nature.
Up until now, the Ministry had averaged eight visits to his home per week to deal with issues including, but not limited to, magical explosions damaging trash bins, chimneys, pipes, or street lamps... treating traumatized Muggle neighbors, and modifying their memories.
Alastor Moody, with his chronic suspicion, was practically a walking catastrophe. Wherever he lived, trouble followed.
Though troublesome, the Ministry had long since grown used to helping this legendary Auror navigate the difficulties of daily life.
But what if something like that happened again?
Kyle seriously doubted Moody could change his ways.
If some unsuspecting Ministry employee came knocking and found Alastor Moody—supposedly long dead—standing in front of them... that would cause serious complications, and it wouldn’t be easy to explain.
"I know what you’re thinking," Moody said, glancing up at Kyle with a gravelly voice.
"I’m saying this for your own good," Kyle shrugged. "As long as you keep up those paranoid habits, you won’t be able to keep this a secret."
"I’ve thought about it. Someone like me doesn’t belong in a quiet neighborhood. That kind of life just isn’t suited to me."
"You’ve got a point," Kyle admitted, then suggested, "How about St. Catchpole? If you really want to retire this way, just move there."
"There are some Muggles in the village, but they live on the other side. You could stay with us."
"I appreciate that you’re willing to take in someone as troublesome as me," Moody said, "but I don’t want to go."
"Why not?" Kyle asked, puzzled.
"Because I found someplace even better—a retirement haven that feels tailor-made for me."
Moody suddenly grinned, his scarred face contorting into something almost frightening.
"Huh? Where?"
"Cornwall. The Wandering Wizard’s Dock." Moody’s gaze grew distant and dreamy. "I’ve realized I’m in love with that place. That familiar feeling... that’s where I should retire."
"Hold on," Kyle interrupted. "I get how you feel, but Lennis is dead. How are you planning to go back?"
"There are still plenty of wandering wizards left." Moody seemed resolute. As he spoke, he stood and made his way toward the door.
"The wandering wizards have always undermined the stability of the British magical world—and it’s one of the biggest hotbeds of dark artifacts."
"I’ll send you some information from time to time. Don’t worry about the details. You don’t need to help me... or rather, don’t get in my way."
"What if you end up in danger?" Kyle asked.
"Then it’ll definitely be because you did something," Moody said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Kyle’s mouth twitched slightly. He didn’t know what to say to that.
"The runes on your door are pretty decent," Moody said as they stepped outside. He turned to glance at the wooden door. "Just not deadly enough."
"This is Hogwarts," Kyle replied helplessly.
But by then, Moody was already gone.
It wasn’t Apparition—Apparition was forbidden at Hogwarts—but he had vanished all the same, just as mysteriously as when he’d arrived. Kyle had no idea how he did it.