Kyle sotis wondered if there was so kind of magical power associated with the position of Minister of Magic.
He had started seeing a bit of Cornelius Fudge in Alia Bones, the decisive and energetic minister.
Though it was only a little bit, she was definitely different from before.
However, Kyle was still willing to help her.
After all, in the previous decisive battle, Alia Bones hadn’t hidden behind and given orders. She was always at the front, fighting on the front lines.
This was the quality that a qualified Minister of Magic should have. In comparison, any minor changes in her personality seed less important.
So, Kyle cooperated and completed the visit, hoping to help Alia restore so of her reputation...
Kyle wasn’t sure if it would work. He wasn’t Dumbledore; he didn’t have that kind of influence.
But at least Kyle was certain of one thing: with his help, Alia shouldn’t be imdiately ousted from office.
This buffer period would give her enough ti to make a lot of progress.
What happened afterward, however, had little to do with Kyle.
Only Dumbledore could change most people's perceptions of the Minister of Magic with a single sentence. Kyle didn’t have that kind of pull yet, but securing so ti for her was already a victory.
Later, Kyle visited the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures but couldn't find Chris. According to Cedric, Chris had been dealing with the Dentor issue since noon.
“Dentors?” Kyle sat in the director's office chair, confused. “Those creatures are causing trouble again? Haven’t they learned their lesson yet?”
A few years ago, when the Dentors had rebelled, they had been wiped out once. Kyle and Cedric had killed nearly a hundred of them.
Afterward, Sirius had offered a large reward, sparking a wave of Dentor hunting.
Moreover, Dumbledore and Newt had also caused trouble for them, leading to a sharp decline in their numbers.
Now, there were probably fewer than 50 left, huddled miserably in the old Azkaban.
Yes, the old site.
Since the Dentor rebellion and the mass escape of the Death Eaters, Azkaban had lost its original function.
The Ministry of Magic had grown too wary to imprison prisoners there anymore, and Azkaban had gradually beco a re relic.
Kyle was also puzzled. Were those Dentors really so forgetful?
“No, it’s not what you think,” Cedric shook his head and explained. “The remaining Dentors are quite obedient, but their numbers have suddenly surged... from 39 to 239.”
“What’s going on?” Kyle asked, surprised.
“All I know is that the new Dentors suddenly appeared on the island of Azkaban,” Cedric said.
“According to the Minister, Dentors are the embodint of all evil, and as long as dark magic and dark wizards exist, they can’t be completely wiped out.”
“Then why did he go there?”
“He must have gone to negotiate,” Cedric lowered his voice. “I heard... just heard, that the Minister suggested rebuilding Azkaban.”
“Dad wants to rebuild Azkaban?” Kyle muttered under his breath, quickly realizing Chris's intentions.
It was still because of the Dentors.
Since these creatures couldn’t be destroyed, the best solution was to contain them and keep them far from other people.
Azkaban seed like the best option.
Firstly, it was so remote that almost no one would venture there. Secondly, while the Dentors would be guarding the prisoners, they could also solve the food problem, preventing riots over hunger—killing two birds with one stone.
Well... actually, this was the only viable option. Apart from rebuilding Azkaban, Kyle couldn’t think of anywhere else to house so many Dentors.
Although it was possible to kill them one by one, there were too many uncertainties, and Dentors didn’t appear alone. It was impossible to station dozens of wizards on Azkaban Island.
The Patronus Charm was a powerful spell that only a select few Aurors knew. Sending dozens of them to a deserted place at once was simply unrealistic.
“Has the Ministry agreed?” Kyle asked.
“Not yet,” Cedric replied. “A lot of people are against the Director’s proposal. They think Dentors are unreliable and are suggesting we follow the French model—using alchemical constructs to guard the prisoners.”
“Are they insane?” Kyle blinked. “Alchemical constructs capable of containing hundreds of Dark wizards… Do they even know how much that would cost? Or are they finally ready to open their vaults and make a generous donation to the Ministry?”
Kyle had never been to the French wizarding prison, but he’d heard about it.
It was considered the most secure prison outside of Azkaban. Every part of the facility—including the walls and floors—was said to be part of a massive alchemical construct. Rumor had it that Nicolas Flal himself contributed to its design.
Kyle wasn’t sure if that part was true, and he’d never bothered to ask. But one thing was certain: the French prison had overtaken Azkaban by far.
Naturally, such a colossal alchemical creation didn’t co cheap—the cost was astronomical.
Given the current financial state of the British Ministry of Magic, there was no way they could afford sothing like that. They probably couldn’t even afford to alchemize a single floor tile.
Co to think of it, rebuilding Azkaban was probably the most affordable option.
“What does the Minister think?” Kyle asked as he stood up and headed out of the office.
He had a feeling he might be able to help.
If he went to Alia Bones now, she’d probably give him enough courtesy to hear him out.
“Minister Bones is likely inclined to support the Director,” Cedric said, walking alongside him. “She’s just a bit hesitant because of the last mass prison break.”
“That’s why the Director went to Azkaban Island—to try and resolve that issue.”
Hearing this, Kyle realized there wasn’t much he needed to do.
Minister Bones and Chris were already on the sa page. What remained was addressing the risk of another Dentor rebellion and convincing the others.
That shouldn’t be too hard… After all, rebuilding Azkaban was the only plan that didn’t require additional funding.
The two stepped into the lift and rode it up to the grand, gold-adorned atrium.
“Are you coming back to Hogwarts with ?” Kyle asked, turning to Cedric. “Fred, George, and I have organized a very interesting recitation club. You might like it.”
“Uh?” Cedric froze for a second, trying to make sense of what Kyle was saying.
The war had just ended. Most people at Hogwarts probably hadn’t recovered from the emotional whiplash of victory and loss. A recitation club at a ti like this…
Was it ant to honor the fallen?
But… sothing that aningful and uplifting didn’t really sound like Fred and George. And, to be fair, it didn’t sound like Kyle either.
Cedric knew the three of them too well. He’d trust them with his life in a crisis.
But outside of danger? He wouldn’t dare turn his back on them.
In other words, now that the war was over, those three might be the biggest threat Hogwarts had.
No matter how he tried, Cedric just couldn’t picture them in a choir.
“I’ll stay at the Departnt,” Cedric said, shaking his head and turning down Kyle’s invitation.
With half the staff gone, the remaining employees were being pushed to the brink just to keep the magical world running.
Cedric was no exception. Since his return, he’d taken on three roles. Besides his regular duties, he had to keep an eye on smugglers trying to exploit the situation, and occasionally fill in with the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to wipe Muggle mories.
Escorting Kyle out had just been a chance to catch his breath.
Cedric did want to go to Hogwarts, to be with friends. But he couldn’t—not when there was work to be done. Soone had to hold the line, or the British wizarding world would fall apart.
Of course, that didn’t an things were easier at Hogwarts. There, they might have to face a returning Voldemort.
Everyone had their part to play.
Seeing Cedric shake his head, Kyle didn’t press the matter. He returned to Hogwarts via the Floo Network.
To make it easier for families of the fallen to arrive—and to allow for quick evacuation in case of danger—the school had set up a temporary Floo connection in Professor McGonagall’s office fireplace.
However, since it hadn’t been used in a while, Kyle stirred up quite a bit of dust as he erged.
“It’s you, Kyle.” Professor Flitwick, who was stationed there, gave a wave of his wand and instantly cleaned the area around him.
“How did it go? All done?
“I heard a lot of people want Bones removed over the Ministry’s infiltration. She sent you there for that, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Kyle said. “But I chose to support her. Once the detailed reports of the war are published and people see that she was fighting the Death Eaters the whole ti, it should help restore so of her support.”
“The school can help too,” Professor Flitwick said. “Minerva and I have discussed it. Bones is a good Minister. At the very least, she won’t hold us back until Voldemort is completely defeated.”
“Then maybe Professor McGonagall should et with Minister Bones more often,” Kyle suggested.
“I rember Professor Dumbledore did sothing similar. It helped Fudge—who wasn’t exactly popular—hang on to his position.”
“But Minerva isn’t Albus,” Flitwick said with a sigh.
“But she is the Headmistress of Hogwarts,” Kyle said with a smile.
“That’s true.”
Just then, the fireplace behind them rustled with another burst of flas.
Kyle knew soone else was arriving, so he turned and left the office.
“Ah, look at this—this rotting, moldy, maggot-infested piece of cheese looks just like Voldemort’s head!”
Kyle had just stepped out of the office when a loud, clear voice rang down the hallway. It sounded like soone had dug up an ancient piece of cheese that had been festering in a corner for years.
Another voice followed imdiately after—equally serious, equally loud.
“Don’t insult Voldemort like that. His head doesn’t look like cheese at all. I think Voldemort’s head looks more like a House-elf’s butt.”
Wow. Every sentence had to include “Voldemort”... Kyle instantly understood—these had to be recruits Fred and George had found.
And judging by the comntary, especially the part about comparing Voldemort to a House-elf, Fred clearly knew how to get under soone’s skin.
Good thing they were still at Hogwarts. Anywhere else, Kyle wasn’t sure Voldemort wouldn’t co storming in to kill them on the spot.
As Kyle continued walking, he quickly realized it wasn’t just those two.
Apparently, while he had been away at the Ministry, Fred and George had recruited an entire group of like-minded participants.
Now, as he walked through the Hogwarts corridors, he could hear Voldemort’s na echoing from every direction—never kindly.
So of it was unmistakably Fred-and-George-style banter. Others had added their own flair, but it was just as brutal.
Kyle sincerely hoped Voldemort would just disable the passive effects of the na magic. Otherwise, at this rate, the man might drop dead from sheer rage.
Even Kyle—who considered himself fairly even-tempered—found so of the lines maddening. For soone as violent and thin-skinned as Voldemort? It was practically psychological warfare.
...
Kyle returned to the Great Hall, where he finally spotted Kanna.
She was helping Madam Pomfrey treat the injured.
There were too many patients, and even with Slughorn assisting, there still wasn’t enough Blood-Replenishing Potion or antidote to go around. When Kanna learned of it, she volunteered to help.
She had brewed plenty of those potions before—both healing and detoxifying—and now she was so practiced she could manage five separate cauldrons at once. Slughorn, watching her, was stunned.
He could only handle three, and even then only if they were brewing the sa potion.
Not convinced, he checked the potions she was making.
They weren’t top-tier, but they’d easily earn an “Outstanding” on a N.E.W.T. exam, and they fully t Madam Pomfrey’s standards—which, given the circumstances, was more than enough.
Right now, efficiency clearly mattered more than perfection.
When Kanna saw Kyle, she gave a quick wave before hurrying off with Madam Pomfrey to tend to more patients.
Kyle also spotted Fred and George.
They were still seated in the corner of the Great Hall, brainstorming new lines.
Nearby sat Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
Because “The Chosen One” hadn’t exactly lived up to the title in this war, Harry was surrounded by a noticeable chill.
Not that Harry seed to mind. In fact, he almost looked relieved.
At the mont, he was rubbing his forehead and excitedly talking to Ron, while Hermione sat beside them, flipping through a massive book. Every so often she glanced up at Harry, her face full of confusion.
“You’re saying... there was a fragnt of Voldemort’s soul inside you?”
“And the Dentor sucked it out...?”
“That’s impossible!”
Hermione flipped frantically through The Soul’s Spellwork: Unlocking the Mind, trying to find sothing—anything—to make sense of this.
Harry was alive. How could he possibly be a Horcrux?
And as for the Dentors—Hermione simply couldn’t believe those creatures would be so kindhearted as to remove only Voldemort’s soul fragnt and leave Harry’s intact.
It made no sense.
It was like a wizard breaking into a Gringotts vault, ignoring all the piles of Galleons, and walking out with a chipped Knut. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ N0v3l.Fiɾe
These were Dentors. Compassionate? Impossible.
And Harry’s explanation—that the Dentor didn’t hurt him because it was under Kyle’s control—only made her more skeptical.
Hermione had never heard of anyone controlling Dentors. Even the guards at Azkaban had only ever managed basic communication—not actual command. They certainly didn’t treat them like trained Kneazles.
In fact, no wizard had ever successfully commanded Dentors. There wasn’t a single docunted case—outside of Voldemort’s recent assault on Hogwarts.
But even that wasn’t true control. Voldemort had simply unleashed them. Everything they did afterward was driven by their primal instinct to feed on joy.
Hermione closed the book and set it aside, then grabbed another one:
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
She flipped quickly to the section with the illustration of a Dentor.
The text was very clear: if you encounter a Dentor and can’t cast the Patronus Charm, your only option is to run. There was no third thod. No loophole.
Even the renowned Newt Scamander hadn’t found a way to control them. So how could anyone else?
And once she thought about Kyle again, Hermione couldn’t help recalling how he had stunned her out of nowhere at the Screaming Ice Cream Shop.
That only added to her frustration.
Swish... swish... Hermione flipped the pages louder and louder, while Harry and Ron’s voices gradually died down.
Kyle listened for a while, then quietly turned and left the Great Hall without interrupting.
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