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Chapter 696: A Coincidence, Harry Almost Got Beaten Up
🕑 Added 2025-04-13 12:35:23 +0000 UTCNewt stayed with the tribe of Giants for quite some time before heading to the largest cave with the new Gorg and a few other Giants. Once he reached the cave, he was out of sight from Kyle and the rest of the group. Concerned about upsetting the Giants by following him uninvited, and trusting Newt’s judgment, they stayed back, watching from a distance.
When Newt returned, it was already late at night.
“All sorted...” he said with a smile. “The Gurg confirmed what I suspected. He was disgusted by Golgomath's earlier decisions, so the Giants will not side with the Death Eaters in this war. Of course, they won’t join the Order of the Phoenix either. They’ve chosen to remain neutral and avoid involvement altogether.”
“You see? Exactly as I said,” Kyle remarked confidently, glancing at Hagrid and Maxime.
“Spot on, Kyle,” Hagrid admitted, unable to hide his surprise. “But how did you know?”
“I just guessed,” Kyle replied with a shrug. “It wasn’t difficult. If you look closely, the most powerful Giants who fought for Golgomath are injured—seriously so, in many cases. The stronger they are, the more severe their wounds."
“Given these circumstances, they’ll want to recover, not jump into another conflict. Unless they’ve completely lost the will to live, the new Gurg would naturally choose to keep them out of any war and maintain their seclusion.”
“Well said, Kyle,” Newt agreed with a nod. “As long as the Giants aren’t siding with the Death Eaters, that’s already the best outcome for us.”
He gazed up at the night sky before turning to Hagrid and Maxime. “Once things settle, we should head back. If the Giants show signs of any trouble or if the Death Eaters attempt to approach them again, be sure to contact me immediately.”
“Don’t worry; leave it to us,” Hagrid assured him, thumping his chest.
“Aren’t you coming back with us?” Kyle asked.
“No,” Hagrid replied. “Dumbledore asked us to keep an eye on the Giants, so Olympe and I will stay a bit longer. But...”
Hagrid hesitated, looking slightly bashful. “Can I see Norbert again? Just once?”
He had been longing to see Norbert but had refrained from mentioning it, prioritizing other duties first. Now, he couldn’t hold back any longer.
Kyle thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Not yet, Hagrid. Wait until the start of the school year. Norbert’s still in a foul mood after that incident with the Hungarian Horntail, and if he sees you now, it might cause delays.”
“Alright then,” Hagrid replied, though his eyes couldn’t help but stray toward the suitcase Kyle was holding. He reluctantly nodded. “But you’ve got to promise I can see him when school starts. He’s grown into such a fine lad, hasn’t he?”
“Fine?” Maxime’s expression shifted. She remembered Hagrid using similar words to describe her appearance once. Was he comparing her to a Dragon in his mind?
The thought soured her mood instantly. Without a word, she moved a few steps away from Hagrid, her face stiff with displeasure.
No one else seemed to notice her reaction, though.
Meanwhile, Newt picked up a tree branch, tapped it with his wand, and continued his work.
“Portus!”
A golden light shimmered from the branch in Newt’s hands. It throbbed violently for a moment, but soon settled into stillness.
“That should do it,” Newt said, examining the branch before extending it toward Kyle.
Kyle, however, didn’t reach for it immediately. Instead, he eyed Newt suspiciously. “Should do it? What do you mean by that? This thing isn’t going to drop me into some bizarre place, is it?”
“Of course not,” Newt replied calmly. “I’ve made Portkeys before. It’s just that I’ve been conned so many times while making them in the past, the Ministry always managed to track me down."
“The moment I appeared somewhere, the Aurors would show up first, so I haven’t used this magic in about fifty years.”
Kyle sighed deeply.
Fifty years without practice... The thought only heightened his hesitation as he stared at the branch. “Why don’t we just let Lupin come pick us up like last time?”
“Don’t worry; I’m confident it’ll work fine,” Newt assured him. “Besides, the Order of the Phoenix members are already busy enough. It’s best not to bother them over something as trivial as this. Come on now, you’ve only got five minutes.”
Reluctantly, and bolstered by Newt’s reassurances, Kyle finally mustered the courage to grab hold of the branch.
“Safe travels!” Maxime called, giving a small wave.
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Kyle was yanked off the ground by an irresistible force, vanishing in an instant.
“My Norbert...” Hagrid muttered longingly, his gaze lingering on the empty space where Kyle had stood. Then he turned to Maxime and said, “Olympe, you head to bed. I’ll keep watch for any movement from the Giants.”
“There’s no need,” Maxime replied coldly. Her tone was as stiff as her expression. “You were on watch yesterday. I’ll do it. Maybe you’ll even see your Dragon again in your dreams.”
“Huh?” Hagrid scratched his head, bewildered by her sudden shift in demeanor. Just moments ago, she’d seemed perfectly fine.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, lowering his voice.
“I’m fine,” Maxime said tersely, not turning to face him.
...
Meanwhile, in a small village somewhere in England...
After a nerve-wracking journey, Kyle finally felt solid ground beneath his feet. He immediately released Newt’s hand and surveyed his surroundings.
They appeared to be in a quiet village. Rows of houses lined the streets, and a pub sign was just barely visible in the distance. Thankfully, it wasn’t some desolate wasteland.
“I told you it would be fine,” Newt said cheerfully, though he frowned as he glanced around. “But... this doesn’t look like St. Catchpole Village.”
Kyle’s voice rose slightly. “St. Catchpole Village? That’s where the Portkey was supposed to take us?”
“Of course,” Newt replied. “I made a deal with Chris that I’d get you home safely when this was over.”
Kyle exhaled a deep sigh. Why did I trust him?
“But don’t worry,” Newt added, trying to sound reassuring. “I’m pretty sure we’re still in England.”
“Why’s that?” Kyle asked warily.
“Because of this,” Newt said, pointing at the faint black mist lingering in the air. “This kind of thing only happens in England.”
“The famous Big Smoke City of London,” Kyle muttered, a small chuckle escaping him. He doubted Newt was familiar with the nickname, which was popular among Muggles but rarely known to wizards.
“What Big Smoke?” Newt asked, blinking in confusion. “I’m not talking about London. I’m talking about Dementors. They’re only found in Britain, and this fog is a sign of their presence.”
“Dementors?” Kyle’s amusement vanished, replaced by alarm. “I thought the Dementors that escaped Azkaban were already dealt with?”
“That’s true,” Newt replied, “but the rest of them have joined the Death Eaters. On the day your holiday began, there was another mass breakout from Azkaban—this time, even more escaped."
“You-Know-Who promised the Dementors free reign to feed, taking the souls of anyone they wanted. Naturally, nearly all of them sided with the Death Eaters.”
Kyle’s jaw tightened. “So, what do we do about it?”
“Nothing,” Newt said with a resigned sigh. “This time, the Dementors aren’t clustered together—they’ve scattered across the country. It’s impossible to eliminate them all at once.”
“Then we’ll take them down one by one,” Kyle said decisively, narrowing his eyes. “If we keep moving, we’ll eventually get rid of them all.”
“That’s Dumbledore’s strategy too,” Newt replied. “Unfortunately, it’s slow-going. And most wizards can’t kill Dementors.”
“What about the Patronus Charm?” Kyle asked.
Newt shook his head. “A Patronus repels Dementors but can’t destroy them. Prolonged contact with a Patronus could harm a Dementor, but they’re not stupid—they’ll flee long before that happens."
“Most Patronuses are ordinary; they don’t have the speed or strength to chase down a Dementor. The charm works as a deterrent, but only a Patronus like Dumbledore’s—his Phoenix—can easily catch Dementors and tear them apart.”
Kyle arched an eyebrow. “My Patronus can do that too.”
Though his Patronus wasn’t a Phoenix, it had a similar capability. He’d confirmed during a previous encounter that his jellyfish Patronus could immobilize multiple Dementors simultaneously, making it even more efficient in group attacks.
“Oh, right,” Newt said, a spark of realization in his eyes. “Your Patronus is... an octopus?”
“It’s a jellyfish,” Kyle corrected, a touch exasperated. Newt had taught him the Patronus Charm back at the Romanian Dragon Reserve—how could he mix that up?
“Sorry,” Newt said with a sheepish smile. “I’m not very familiar with common animals. Can you show me again?”
Kyle drew his wand and summoned his Patronus. A silvery-white jellyfish materialized before them, its luminous tendrils trailing gracefully. The thick gray fog in the air dissipated almost instantly.
“I wanted to say this last time—it’s really beautiful,” Newt said, his eyes fixed on the jellyfish’s delicate, flowing tentacles.
Kyle nodded.
“Yes,” Newt added, studying the creature. “The tentacles are subtle enough that Dementors wouldn’t see them as a threat until it’s too late.”
“Oh, I should have thought of this earlier. You’d be better suited to stay here and deal with the Dementors than to accompany me to the Giants.”
“It’s not too late,” Kyle replied simply.
“No, it’s not too late,” Newt agreed. “But first, I need to get you home. Take my hand, Kyle."
“I don’t know exactly where we are, but as long as we’re still in England, we can Apparate.”
“That’s fine—I can Apparate too,” Kyle said.
“But you haven’t passed the exam yet,” Newt reminded him. “This year’s Apparition test was postponed to July 30th, wasn’t it?”
Kyle wanted to point out that he could Apparate perfectly well, exam or no exam. After all, Fudge wouldn’t penalize him.
Before he could respond, though, he faintly heard someone calling his name.
At first, Kyle thought he was imagining things. But the next moment...
“Kyle...”
This time, the voice was clear. Someone was calling his name.
Great, he thought wryly. Middle of the night, remote village, don’t even know where I am—and now someone’s calling me. This couldn’t get creepier.
Even Kyle, who could calmly share a cup of tea with a ghost, felt a chill run down his spine. Instinctively, he drew his wand, aiming it toward the sound.
“Whoever you are, show yourself!”
A dozen red-gold flames flared to life around him, crackling ominously.
The Firestorm Charm’s presence instantly steadied him. No matter what—or who—was out there, Kyle trusted the magic to remind them that scaring people at midnight was a very bad idea.
“Oh, calm down,” said a familiar voice.
A flash of light momentarily blinded Kyle, and a figure materialized before him.
“Professor Dumbledore?” Kyle asked, though his tone betrayed doubt.
“It’s me,” Dumbledore replied with a small nod. His gaze shifted to Kyle’s wand, and he added, “Though I don’t recall teaching you that charm for use on friends.”
Well, that confirmed it—the man before him was indeed Dumbledore.
Kyle canceled the runes at the tip of his wand, then glanced over Dumbledore’s shoulder. A vague figure was stumbling toward them in the distance.
“That’s Harry,” Dumbledore explained. “Because you’re standing in the moonlight, he recognized you from afar.”
Kyle stared, trying to make sense of the situation. Why is Dumbledore here? Could it be that the Ministry had detected the Portkey and sent him to intervene? That didn’t add up—Dumbledore didn’t need Portkeys.
“Professor, why are you here?” Kyle finally asked.
“I think the better question is, why are you here?” Dumbledore replied. “Shouldn’t you be addressing the Giant situation? Instead, I find you standing in the middle of Budleigh Babberton in the dead of night.”
“Babberton?” Kyle glanced uneasily at Newt. “Well... that’s a little complicated. Let’s just say that, ideally, we’d actually be in St. Catchpole Village right now.”
Dumbledore turned his gaze to Newt, who was currently staring at the sky as though it held the answers to life’s mysteries.
A moment later, Dumbledore seemed to piece something together. “My apologies,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I should have let Fawkes accompany you.”
Kyle’s mouth opened, but he stopped himself. Compared to their current predicament, being carried by a Phoenix didn’t sound so bad.
Just then, Harry came running up, panting heavily.
“Kyle, it is you!” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with both relief and excitement. “I knew I wasn’t mistaken. Did you hear me calling your name just now?”
“So, you were the one shouting my name?” Kyle’s expression turned slightly incredulous.
“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “Why?”
“Oh, nothing,” Kyle said with a faint smile. “Just some advice: in the future, try not to shout someone’s name at midnight in a deserted place like this.”
“Why not?” Harry asked, puzzled.
“Because people are asleep,” Kyle replied dryly. “And if you make noise like that, someone might decide to beat you up.”
Harry laughed sheepishly. “I was just excited, that’s all. By the way, why are you here? Did Professor Dumbledore bring you too?”
“No,” Kyle replied, hesitating for a moment before shaking his head. “It’s a long story. Let’s just call it a coincidence.”
He then turned to Dumbledore. “Professor, we’ll head back now.”
“Oh, there’s no need to rush,” Dumbledore said with a warm smile. “Since we’ve met, why don’t we go together? I was going to invite you to join us anyway, so this works out perfectly.”
Dumbledore’s attention shifted briefly to Newt, who was still engrossed in the night sky.
But before anyone could say another word, Newt suddenly vanished, leaving behind only a crisp, echoing sound in the silent village.
“Well... okay,” Kyle said reluctantly.
Dumbledore glanced at him with a knowing smile and winked. “Remember, keep it a secret. It’s no surprise after all this time that he’s a bit... off with certain spells.”
“I understand,” Kyle replied with a nod.
“Good.” Dumbledore turned back toward the village. “Come along. I think we’re almost there.”
“Professor, where exactly are we going?” Kyle asked as they walked.
“I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve explained this in recent years,” Dumbledore said with a sigh, “but it seems there’s no avoiding it. Tonks insisted on transferring back to the Auror Office, which leaves us once again short of professors."
“We’re here to persuade an old colleague, long retired, to return to Hogwarts.”
“But what can I do to help?” Harry asked curiously.
“I think you’ll be very helpful indeed,” Dumbledore replied with a smile. “And Kyle as well. With the two of you, I suspect our chances of success will be significantly higher... now, turn left.”
Kyle, already suspecting who they were going to see, kept quiet. Harry, however, had more questions.
“But Professor, why can’t we just Apparate straight to the old professor’s house?”
“Because,” Dumbledore explained, “that would be as impolite as kicking down someone’s front door. Most wizards’ homes, like Hogwarts, are warded against unwanted Apparitions.”
Kyle, feeling bored, decided to ask a random question. “Professor, didn’t Director Sykes of St. Mungo’s once say she’d consider retiring to Hogwarts? Why not invite her instead?”
“If Sykes were willing to join us, I’d gladly hand over my position as Headmaster,” Dumbledore replied with a wistful sigh. “But alas, she changed her mind. After obtaining those rare potion ingredients, I doubt she’ll consider retiring anytime soon.”
Kyle immediately fell silent.
He hadn’t expected his idle question to backfire so spectacularly. After all, he had donated those potion ingredients—Basilisk scales and blood—to St. Mungo’s. It had been a good deed! He certainly didn’t want to take the blame for Sykes’s decision to stay put.
Fortunately, Harry didn’t notice anything amiss and instead turned to Kyle for conversation.
“I heard you went traveling?”
“Traveling? Who told you that?”
“Ron,” Harry said. “Fred and George visited your house, and your dad told them you’d gone on a trip with Mr. Scamander. They told Ron.”
“I thought you weren’t coming back until the holidays ended.”
“Ah, it wasn’t that much fun, so I came back early,” Kyle said with a shrug.
“Where did you go?”
“Romania, I think.”
“A dragon reserve?”
“No, somewhere else. Mr. Scamander took me there.”
“That must have been fascinating,” Harry said, a touch enviously. “Hermione told me Mr. Scamander is the greatest Magizoologist of our time.”
“It was okay,” Kyle replied thoughtfully. “Actually, it was kind of interesting. We got to witness a tribe choosing a new leader, which doesn’t happen often.”
Dumbledore looked intrigued. “And the new leader? Is he someone agreeable?”
“Sort of,” Kyle said. “At least he and Mr. Scamander got along well.”
Dumbledore nodded. “And the tribe? What of them?”
“After such a big celebration, they’re in a period of rest now,” Kyle explained. “They’re no longer welcoming visitors.”
“I see,” Dumbledore said with a faint smile and didn’t press further.
“What a shame,” Harry said, turning to Kyle with a wistful look. The idea of witnessing a tribe’s leader being chosen, followed by a grand celebration, sounded thrilling.
Harry couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. Kyle seemed free to travel, see the world, and experience fascinating events. Meanwhile, Harry was stuck at Privet Drive, unable to go anywhere.
But his mood brightened quickly. Dumbledore had promised to take him to 12 Grimmauld Place once this task was done. The thought of seeing Sirius again filled Harry with happiness.
This time, he vowed to make sure he had a proper room—not a cupboard under the stairs or a cramped attic storage space.
As the thought settled in, Harry realized a trip to Romania didn’t seem quite so enviable after all.
