"Harry was rescued?"
Sirius froze for a mont, then his face lit up with joy as he imdiately turned to leave.
"In that case, we need to go too! There are too many of them—if they catch up, we’re in trouble."
But as he started moving, he quickly realized that Kyle hadn’t followed. He was still standing in place.
"Hurry up! What are you waiting for?" Sirius shouted anxiously. "They’ll be here any second!"
Even as he spoke, a swirling mass of black mist appeared nearby. Sirius, alard, almost rushed back to grab Kyle and drag him away.
"Go? No way."
Kyle scoffed. "I'm not one to let things slide. They chased around for ages—if I don’t get so payback, I won’t be able to sleep tonight."
"What kind of nonsense is that?! Right now—"
"Fawkes, you handle this."
With a clear, ringing cry, Fawkes soared down. In an instant, Sirius vanished.
At the sa ti, Bellatrix and the Death Eaters closed in.
"Clap, clap, clap…" Bellatrix mockingly applauded, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "How noble—giving up your chance to escape and choosing to stay behind. I'm truly moved."
"Really?" Kyle grinned. "Well, in that case, why don’t you let go too? I promise I’ll turn around and leave imdiately—won’t stay a second longer. What do you say?"
As if he had just cracked the funniest joke in the world, the surrounding Death Eaters burst into laughter.
"Let you go?"
"Do you think you're still safe in a Hogwarts cradle?"
"We'll have plenty of fun torturing you with the Cruciatus Curse. You'll regret not running when you had the chance."
...
The Death Eaters jeered and taunted Kyle, throwing out threats—though at this point, it wasn’t even a threat anymore. It was just a warning of what was to co.
"You hear that?" Bellatrix finally stopped laughing, her sharp voice cutting through the air.
"Pity," Kyle muttered. "I already gave you a chance."
"What did you say?"
"Nothing, you must have misheard."
"Don’t try to play tricks," Bellatrix sneered. "You’re not getting away. And as for those who were taken away, we’ll get their whereabouts from you soon enough—then we’ll drag them back, one by one.”
"If you tell us now, you might suffer less. But I have a feeling you’d rather experience the Cruciatus Curse firsthand.”
"How long do you think you’ll last? I’d say ten minutes."
"I’ll take that bet. Ten minutes," Kyle said with a smirk. "Care to wager a Galleon?"
"Make it ten." Bellatrix grinned wickedly and raised her wand.
"Hold on, I have sothing to say first." Kyle lifted a hand. "Aren’t you curious where I learned that Shield Charm I used earlier?"
Bellatrix hesitated, her curiosity piqued.
"Speak!" she snapped.
"The Dark Lord taught ," Kyle said nonchalantly. "He even wanted as his successor. Give it a few years, and you’ll all be serving ."
"Shut up!"
"How dare you insult the Dark Lord?!"
"Kill him!"
The Death Eaters erupted in fury, cursing and shouting. None of them believed Kyle's words.
Bellatrix didn’t believe him either—but for a split second, she hesitated.
Because out of all the Death Eaters present, she alone knew that the Shield Charm Kyle had used was identical to the one Voldemort had once wielded.
Could it be…? No. Impossible.
Bellatrix quickly crushed the absurd thought and glared at Kyle with cold fury.
"You’re asking for death."
"I have proof," Kyle said smoothly. He pulled out a box, set it on the ground, and flipped it open.
"The Dark Lord entrusted with a token. It’s in here—you’ll understand when you see it."
"Do you think I’d fall for such an obvious lie?" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes.
"How about this?" Kyle casually tossed his wand aside. "Now I’m completely unard. It’s just , surrounded by all of you. If that’s not proof of good faith, I don’t know what is.”
"Of course, if you’re too scared, you don’t have to look. But if the Dark Lord finds out later and gets angry… well, that’s on you."
Bellatrix’s grip on her wand faltered. She was clearly torn.
The other Death Eaters exchanged uneasy glances. Maybe they didn’t believe Kyle’s claim—but none of them dared to risk Voldemort’s wrath.
What if…?
The Dark Lord's fury was not sothing anyone wanted to face.
And besides, Kyle was unard. He was just a young wizard standing alone. Why should they fear him?
All eyes turned to Bellatrix.
She hesitated, then took two cautious steps forward. But as she neared the box, an inexplicable sense of dread crept up her spine.
Her instincts scread at her to stop.
Yet the others, fixated on the box, didn't notice her hesitation.
Finally, a few Death Eaters leaned in, peering inside.
It was pitch black. Completely empty.
Just as they were about to curse Kyle for making a fool of them, one of them suddenly noticed sothing—a glint of light.
Two gems? No…
Two rare orange-colored stones.
And then—
Thud. Thud.
Without warning, the Death Eaters who had looked into the box collapsed to the ground, motionless.
"Damn it! It's a trap!" A Death Eater who had finally realized what was happening shouted. "Kill him! Now!"
"A little late for that," Kyle remarked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at them.
A massive serpent's head shot out of the suitcase—its dark green scales glead under the dim light, its razor-sharp fangs shimred with an eerie glow... and then there were its piercing, soul-stirring orange eyes.
Thud… thud…
Several Death Eaters froze mid-expression, their bodies locking up before they collapsed to the ground.
But sothing was off. Whether it was because there were too many people, spreading out the effects of the curse, or because they hadn't looked directly into the Basilisk’s eyes, far fewer fell than Kyle had expected. Most of the Death Eaters were rely clutching their heads, screaming in agony as if enduring unbearable tornt.
But that didn't really matter.
Kyle casually flicked his fingers, grabbing a fresh wand—his real wand. The one he had tossed earlier? Just an old wand he’d picked up long ago.
"Go. Leave no one behind," Kyle ordered coolly.
The Basilisk lunged forward, its fifty-foot-long body barreling into the crowd, crushing everything in its path. The Death Eaters who had been wailing in pain imdiately forgot their suffering and scattered in sheer panic.
In their desperation, so ran blindly and accidentally locked eyes with the Basilisk. But this ti, there was no one to share the curse with them. They dropped to the ground instantly.
"It's a Basilisk! Don't look into its eyes!" soone finally shouted, desperately warning the others.
Kyle raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. A Death Eater actually caring about the survival of his comrades? How unusual.
As a reward, Kyle decided to help. With a flick of his wand, he cast a Binding Curse to slow down the poor guy’s escape. Then, for good asure, he released Norbert from the suitcase.
With a deafening roar, the dragon took to the skies. Flas rained down, igniting explosions across the battlefield like bursts of fireworks.
Kyle, with a quick step, Apparated onto Norbert’s head.
He no longer cared about the fleeing Death Eaters. Instead, from above, he directed the Basilisk toward its true target—Bellatrix.
The others were just foot soldiers. She was the real prize.
Bellatrix was already running, though her instincts had saved her from an instant death, the curse’s lingering effects had slowed her considerably. It didn’t take long for the Basilisk to catch up.
"Avada Kedavra!"
She shrieked, blindly aiming a Killing Curse at Kyle, perched atop the dragon. But without daring to open her eyes, her aim was so off she might as well have been aiming at Durmstrang. Kyle didn’t even need to dodge.
"Damn it! Damn it!" Bellatrix scread hysterically. "The Dark Lord won't let you live! He'll never let you live!"
"You say that like we were ever going to live peacefully together," Kyle chuckled.
Under his command, the Basilisk slithered closer.
Bellatrix, now truly panicking, frantically cast Shield Charms, desperately trying to keep the serpent at bay.
It was useless.
The Basilisk struck. Its jaws clamped down, sinking its deadly fangs deep into her.
Bellatrix Lestrange fell silent.
Kyle was about to say sothing when a sudden wave of unease swept over him. Instinctively, he slamd the suitcase onto Norbert's head.
The massive dragon vanished in an instant.
And Kyle? He plumted.
At that exact mont, a streak of searing green light—brighter than any other Killing Curse—ripped through the air, passing right through the spot where he had been monts before.
It was so fast that Kyle hadn’t even registered its movent.
Without hesitation, he used his ring to Apparate onto the Basilisk’s back and swiftly sealed it inside the suitcase as well.
But that move cost him.
He had just lost his best opportunity to escape.
A swirl of black mist coalesced in front of him.
Voldemort stepped forward, his pale fingers wrapped around a bone-white wand, his eyes locked onto Kyle.
He was furious—but it wasn't because of Bellatrix.
His gaze was fixed on the suitcase in Kyle’s hands.
"You thief!"
Voldemort had never been this enraged before. His chest rose and fell violently as he let out a hoarse, furious roar.
"How dare you steal from the great Dark Lord!"
He recognized it. Kyle had just taken the Basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts. Back when he was a student, he had used that very creature to kill a student.
In Voldemort’s mind, the Basilisk had long been his—his personal weapon, lying in wait for the day he would return to Hogwarts and unleash it once more.
But now, not only had it been taken, it had been taken by soone else.
That was sothing he could not tolerate.
"You shaless thief, hand over that suitcase!" Voldemort slashed his hand through the air, his voice cold and venomous. "Or die!"
"That’s not going to happen."
Kyle, despite the intense anxiety clawing at him, forced himself to remain casual. "This is mine. A gift from Salazar Slytherin to his heir."
"You lie!"
Voldemort’s scarlet eyes darkened with fury. "I am Slytherin’s true descendant! You… you are nothing more than a pathetic thief!"
"Then why does the Basilisk obey my commands?" Kyle countered. "That alone speaks for itself. You’re the fake. I’m the real one.”
"Don’t forget—Riddle is a Muggle surna..."
"Crucio!"
A flash of red light struck Kyle.
The pain was indescribable. It was as if thousands of needles were stabbing into his body at once, twisting, searing, overwhelming his very senses. His consciousness blurred.
But this was exactly what Kyle had been waiting for.
Voldemort had chosen the Cruciatus Curse—a spell designed for pain rather than instant death. And in doing so, he had given Kyle just the opening he needed.
Through the agony, Kyle forced himself to act. Summoning what remained of his will, he activated the final use of Apparition from his ring.
And in the very next second, right under Voldemort’s nose—he vanished.
Voldemort’s face contorted in rage.
Realizing he had been tricked, he let out a furious roar, his wrath consuming him.
And those who remained—the surviving Death Eaters—beca the outlet for his fury.
They had evaded the Basilisk. They had escaped the dragon.
But in the end, they were slaughtered by the very Dark Lord they had sworn their loyalty to.
Not a single one survived.
Only when the last body had crumpled lifelessly to the ground did Voldemort finally lower his wand.
He stood still, silent, staring at the place where Kyle had disappeared. His expression was unreadable.
More Death Eaters arrived. Among them was Draco Malfoy.
The mont Draco took in the scene around him, his face drained of all color. His legs trembled violently—so much so that he nearly collapsed to the ground.
Fortunately, Lucius appeared just in ti, steadying him from behind.
But even Lucius’ face was grim.
Never before had the Death Eaters suffered such devastating losses.
Even Bellatrix…
Lucius’ gaze shifted. Not far away, Bellatrix lay motionless on the ground.
His throat tightened.
"Master!"
Oren approached Voldemort cautiously. "What are your orders?"
Voldemort glanced at him, his expression unreadable.
"Bellatrix was a fool," he said coldly. "She acted on her own, walked straight into the Order of the Phoenix’s trap, and was killed by Dumbledore."
For so reason, he did not reveal the truth. Instead, he placed all the bla on Dumbledore and the Order.
Oren’s eyes flickered.
He had only caught a brief glimpse earlier, but the way those Death Eaters had died…
That wasn’t Dumbledore’s work.
No.
That was sothing else entirely.
Still, he quickly buried the thought and nodded. "Yes. A foolish mistake."
"Shall we retaliate?"
Barty Crouch Jr. stepped forward eagerly. "What if we attack the Ministry again? That new Minister has been a constant thorn in our side. We could take her out in the process."
"Then why don’t you handle it?" Voldemort said. "Take care of the Aurors. Deal with Dumbledore. I’ll be waiting for good news."
Barty Crouch Jr. blanched, imdiately dropping to his knees.
"I only wish to serve you, my lord…"
Voldemort didn’t spare him a glance. Without another word, he vanished into a swirl of black mist.
Oren, anwhile, let out an amused scoff.
"Go ahead, Barty. I believe in you."
"Shut up!" Barty Crouch Jr. snapped, glaring at Oren with pure malice.
"Tsk. Not only is he stupid, but he’s got a temper too." Oren smirked, unconcerned. With a casual wave, he Disapparated as well.
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