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Chapter 706: Memory Charm and the Lost Wand
🕑 Added 2025-04-18 11:07:26 +0000 UTCLondon.
St. Mungo’s.
Cedric's injuries were not serious. A young Healer hurried into the ward, pressed Cedric’s leg with quick precision, snapped it back into place, and skillfully wrapped a bandage around it twice.
“All right, drink a bottle of magical potion later, and the bones will grow back by tomorrow.”
With that, the Healer rushed out of the room. The entire process had taken less than a minute. By this time, Kyle had just unwrapped a Chocolate Frog.
“I told you there was no need to come to St. Mungo’s,” Cedric said helplessly.
“It’s better to be safe than sorry,” said Mr. Diggory, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Leave the task of hunting Dementors to the Aurors in the future. You should stay at the Ministry.”
“Dad, I’ll be fine,” Cedric replied. “I only got hurt this time because I was inexperienced.”
“Catching Dementors is primarily the responsibility of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, not the Aurors.”
“Then I’ll go,” Mr. Diggory insisted, making it clear Cedric was not to take any more risks.
When he’d received Cedric’s distress signal, it had felt as though the world had collapsed around him. He had nearly fainted in his office.
“But...” Cedric tried to protest.
“Just listen to Mr. Diggory,” Kyle interjected. “Dementors are becoming increasingly rare, and there’s no point in us trying to catch them anymore."
“And weren’t you thinking of taking some time off? This is the perfect chance. How about a week instead of three days? You can rest and recover properly.”
“That’s wonderful!” Mr. Diggory said, visibly relieved. “Thank you so much, Kyle. And this time, it’s also thanks to you that Cedric was saved...”
“It’s nothing,” Kyle replied. “After all, we were acting together.”
“No,” Cedric said, shaking his head. “Seven days is too long. The Ministry is already short-staffed. Let’s stick to three days.”
“That was before,” Kyle countered. “Don’t forget, the Dementor issue has been resolved now.” He waved a hand dismissively and stood up. “It’s settled then.”
Kyle waited briefly to see if Cedric would argue further, but when he didn’t, Kyle gave a polite farewell to Mr. Diggory and left St. Mungo’s.
...
When Kyle returned to the Ministry, someone was already waiting for him.
“How did it go? Were you hurt?” Chris asked.
“No,” Kyle replied simply.
“That’s good,” Chris said, leading him toward the lift. “Come on, I’ll take you to the Auror's office.”
As the target of this recent attack by Death Eaters, Kyle knew he’d have to give a full report.
Once they reached the second floor, they stepped out of the lift and walked down a corridor plastered with wanted posters.
“The Minister takes this attack very seriously. We must find and capture the escaped Death Eater, no matter what!”
Before they even reached the door, Kyle could hear Scrimgeour’s voice, sharp and full of anger.
“And tell everyone to be on high alert. If the Death Eaters show up again, we must capture them… Are we Aurors really no better than Kyle, who is barely seventeen?”
At that moment, there was a knock at the door.
Chris pushed it open and led Kyle inside.
The Auror office was a chaotic yet fascinating space. Portraits covered nearly every inch of the walls, more than in the hallway outside. Desks and cabinets overflowed with piles of documents, while other areas were crammed with strange and magical items.
Kyle’s gaze caught on a large mirror next to Scrimgeour, showing the reflections of several people who weren’t present in the room. On the windowsill sat a Sneakoscope the size of a Bludger, quietly spinning.
“You’re here, Chris,” Scrimgeour said in a calmer tone.
“We didn’t interrupt anything, did we?” Chris asked.
“No,” Scrimgeour replied with a wave of his hand. The Aurors in the room quickly filed out.
“I think this is the first time you’ve been here,” Scrimgeour said, turning to Kyle. “Just give a brief account of what happened—it won’t take long. Oh, sit down. Your father and I are good friends. Make yourself at home.”
“Okay,” Kyle said, finding a sofa with fewer documents and sitting down.
“So…” Scrimgeour pulled out a piece of parchment. “How many Death Eaters were there this time?”
“Two,” Kyle answered without hesitation.
Scrimgeour nodded, marking the parchment. “Do you know who they were? Names or distinguishing characteristics?”
“I don’t know about the one who was captured,” Kyle said, “but the witch who escaped—I think her last name is Carrow.”
“Carrow… a witch?” Scrimgeour mused. “It must be Alecto Carrow. She and her brother, Amycus Carrow, were suspected Death Eaters seventeen years ago. At the time, they claimed they were under the Imperius Curse. Because there wasn’t enough evidence, they escaped trial.”
“That wasn’t uncommon back then,” Chris added, addressing Kyle. “You-Know-Who’s sudden downfall, combined with the chaos at the Ministry, made it impossible to arrest every pure-blood wizard. Many slipped through the cracks.”
“Yeah… but not anymore,” Scrimgeour said firmly. “Now, what happened after that? How did you defeat them?”
Kyle had anticipated this question. Of course, he couldn’t reveal the truth, but he’d already crafted a convincing explanation.
He altered the story, substituting the dragon with advanced fire magic supposedly taught to him by Dumbledore.
Scrimgeour didn’t doubt him. After all, Dumbledore’s high regard for Kyle was well known, and it wasn’t hard to believe he’d taught the boy some powerful magic.
However, Scrimgeour noted that the traces at the scene didn’t match the kind of fire magic Kyle had used during the Triwizard Tournament, which had left a distinct path on the ground. Clearly, it was something else.
After Kyle finished recounting his story, Scrimgeour reviewed the notes on the parchment and asked several more detailed questions. Kyle answered them all flawlessly.
“Sorry,” Scrimgeour said, looking up at Kyle after half an hour, his gaze shifting between Kyle and the three full sheets of parchment in front of him. “Since the Death Eater has lost a portion of their memory, we’re relying solely on your account of what happened.”
As he spoke, his eyes flickered briefly with suspicion.
“The Death Eater did it himself,” Kyle replied calmly. “When I was chasing him, I saw him use a Memory Charm on himself. You’ll know for sure if you find his wand.”
“We’ve been looking,” Scrimgeour said.
Chris frowned. “Rufus, you don’t think Kyle hid the wand, do you?”
“That’s all right,” Kyle said, pulling out his own wand and holding it out. “I’m willing to submit to a wand inspection.”
“No, don’t get me wrong,” Scrimgeour said quickly, a small smile forming on his face. “Those Death Eaters were trying to kill Kyle. There’s no reason for him to do something like that, is there?"
“I suspect the Death Eaters were trying to hide something. We’ve encountered this situation before—Dark Wizards using Memory Charms on themselves or destroying their wands before capture to cover up their crimes and avoid prosecution.”
“In that case, wouldn’t the Ministry have no way to act against them?” Kyle asked.
“For the Ministry, examining a wand is a key part of the trial process—it can reveal exactly which spells were cast. But it’s not the only way,” Scrimgeour explained. “The process just becomes a bit more complicated, since their actions don’t vanish with the wand. And they can’t erase everything—they can’t use the Memory Charm on everyone. There’s always evidence left behind.”
“Wait...” Chris suddenly perked up, an idea forming. “If a Death Eater uses a Memory Charm on themselves, couldn’t we use that to find their headquarters or accomplices?”
Scrimgeour hesitated for a moment, his expression guarded, but he finally said in a low voice, “I wasn’t supposed to tell you this, but… fortunately, the Death Eater had significant memories in that area. A single Memory Charm wasn’t enough to erase them all.”
“So you found something?” Chris pressed.
“Yes,” Scrimgeour admitted. “Using some special methods, we discovered from the Death Eater that he had been in an alley in Wiltshire with five other Death Eaters.”
“Do you need any help?” Chris asked, his tone turning serious.
“Thanks, Chris,” Scrimgeour said with a sigh. “But when I led a team of Aurors there half an hour ago, the Death Eaters were already gone."
“Apparently, they’d heard about their comrade’s capture and fled in advance.”
“That’s a real shame,” Chris said, shaking his head.
“Never mind,” Scrimgeour replied firmly. “We’ll catch them eventually.”
Knock, knock, knock!
Several Aurors hurried in at the sound of the door.
Chris rose from his chair. “Rufus, if there’s nothing else…”
“The questions have been answered,” Scrimgeour said, waving them off. “Go ahead. And Kyle, if you’re ever interested, you’d be welcome in the Auror office.”
“Okay,” Kyle said with a nod.
With that, Kyle and Chris left the room and made their way back to the elevator, heading down to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.
...
“That was close.”
As the office door clicked shut behind them, Chris turned to Kyle with a knowing look.
“If I’m not mistaken, you used the Memory Charm, didn’t you?”
“Why do you say that?” Kyle asked, his expression neutral.
“Do you think so little of me that I wouldn’t recognize a dragon’s fire?” Chris raised an eyebrow.
Kyle chuckled. “Hehe, there was no choice. In that situation, you definitely need some help.”
“I’m not blaming you,” Chris said, “and I’ve already covered for you. I told Scrimgeour the traces at the scene were from a type of magical fire.”
“And he believed you?”
“I think so,” Chris replied. “Different types of dragons produce different flames. The Norwegian Ridgeback, for instance, relies more on its physical strength for hunting, so its fire is slightly weaker than that of other dragons."
“Scrimgeour has never seen the flames of a Norwegian Ridgeback, so of course he didn’t suspect anything.”
“Thank you,” Kyle said, letting out a sigh of relief. “I didn’t have a choice. Even though I’m confident I could outrun the situation with the speed of a Firebolt, Cedric was still there, and I couldn’t just leave him behind.”
“I understand,” Chris said, waving a hand dismissively. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have volunteered to cover for you. But you’re being reckless. What if Scrimgeour really had inspected your wand?”
“He won’t,” Kyle said confidently. “Even though I’m not particularly fond of the Senior Assistant to the Minister for Magic position, I have to admit that it can be very convenient sometimes."
“And even if Scrimgeour didn’t care about that and insisted on inspecting my wand, it wouldn’t matter. I don’t need a wand for my Memory Charm.”
“Casting a Memory Charm without a wand?” Chris asked, visibly surprised.
“Yes,” Kyle replied. “I’m just not very skilled at it, so the process might be a bit… rough.”
Chris frowned. The Memory Charm was an advanced piece of magic, and casting it wandlessly was risky. Even Dumbledore wouldn’t typically cast a Memory Charm without a wand.
Then again, a Death Eater? That’s fine.
Kyle didn’t go anywhere else after that and ended up spending a long time in Chris’s office. By the time he stepped out, the sky had already darkened into evening.
“There’s a lot of work piling up today, so I might not be home for a while,” Chris said as he walked Kyle to the elevator. “Go straight to 12 Grimmauld Place. Molly heard you were back and has prepared a big birthday dinner for you and Harry."
“Your mother will be there too. Oh, and don’t mention the Death Eater attack. She doesn’t know yet.”
“Are you sure she doesn’t know?” Kyle asked skeptically.
Chris hesitated, then said, “Anyway, just pretend she doesn’t know.”
“Okay,” Kyle agreed, but added, “but just so we’re clear, if she asks why I’m hiding it, I’ll definitely blame it on you.”
Chris stared at him in disbelief.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m scared too,” Kyle said with a shrug.
The elevator doors slid shut before Chris could reply.
Since the Ministry wasn’t yet closed, the lifts weren’t crowded. Kyle quickly found himself in the bustling main hall.
As usual, the hall was filled with witches and wizards going about their business.
“Kyle, when did you get back?” a passing wizard called out cheerfully.
“This afternoon, Professor Tofty,” Kyle replied, recognizing the elderly man from the Wizarding Examinations Authority who had overseen his OWL exams in Charms, Astronomy, and History of Magic.
“Oh, Kyle?” came another familiar voice.
It was Lupin, striding toward him. For once, Lupin was dressed in a well-fitted navy-blue robe, a far cry from the patched and faded one he usually wore.
He reached Kyle quickly.
“Thank you. I’ve heard from Sirius...” Lupin said, his tone carrying a hint of excitement. “I never thought I’d ever have the chance to work in the Ministry of Magic—let alone as an Auror.”
“You’re welcome, Professor Lupin,” Kyle replied with a smile. He then noticed someone standing behind Lupin, wrapped tightly in a cloak. Curious, he asked, “What are you doing?”
“Oh, just another impostor,” Lupin said calmly. “Caught him in Knockturn Alley. He used Polyjuice Potion to disguise himself and tried to pass off some rags under a Freezing Charm as valuable items to claim Galleons.”
“According to protocol, I need to take him to the holding cell.”
The holding cell was part of the makeshift Azkaban established by the Ministry of Magic. It housed captured dark wizards, fraudsters, and others attempting to deceive with magical forgeries.
“How many fake items did he have?” Kyle asked.
“Thirty,” Lupin replied.
“Three thousand Galleons...” Kyle said, glancing at the wizard. “Quite an appetite.”
“That’s why he’ll be staying there for thirty days—with the Dementors,” Lupin remarked.
At the mention of Dementors, the previously calm wizard began to thrash and struggle.
“Let go of me! Let go of me!” he shouted desperately. “I won’t go! I don’t want to be locked up with Dementors!”
“You don’t get a choice,” Lupin said, flicking his wand. Ropes floated into the air and coiled around the man, binding him tightly.
“Please,” the man begged, his voice trembling. “I’ll pay anything—just don’t lock me up with a Dementor!”
“Unless you’d like to purchase one of the fake items you were trying to sell,” Lupin said dryly, giving him a pointed look. “One per day. The terms are clear; I don’t need to explain further.”
“But you didn’t say there were Dementors there!” the man wailed.
The other people in the hall, clearly accustomed to scenes like this, barely gave him a glance before returning to their own business.
“Oh, didn’t anyone in Knockturn Alley tell you?” Lupin asked, his tone light. “The Dementors are captured and imprisoned there as well. Strange, considering how many people in Knockturn Alley seem to know you.”
The man fell silent for a moment, then erupted in fury, shouting, “Damn it! Those bastards, scum, filthy idiots—”
Lupin, entirely unbothered, tightened his grip on the ropes and began dragging the man away.
“Kyle, I’ll see you later,” Lupin said over his shoulder.
“See you later,” Kyle replied, waving after him.
