Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 922: The Blown-Up Bridge and the Chomping Cabbage

Aberforth was a Dumbledore, after all. Sure, back in 1899, Kyle could’ve beaten him more easily than a dog—but that had been over a hundred years ago.

Now, even if Aberforth wasn’t quite on par with his brother, he was still far stronger than most wizards. At the very least, he could hold off Voldemort.

The two clashed mid-air, their spells exploding around them in bursts of multicolored light like fireworks. Without a moment’s hesitation, Kyle turned and ran.

A few of the quicker-thinking Death Eaters around him made the same choice. As for those who reacted too slowly—well, they didn’t need to run anymore.

Unlike Professor Dumbledore, Aberforth used mostly high-powered offensive spells, occasionally throwing in a Killing Curse or two for good measure.

Voldemort needed no mention—his spells weren’t anything ordinary Death Eaters could hope to withstand.

It was only thanks to Kyle’s quick getaway that he didn’t get caught in the crossfire.

He thought back to what Aberforth had said to him just a moment ago...

“Go do what you’re supposed to do.”

Kyle scratched his head. Aberforth wasn’t like his brother—he was straightforward, blunt, and not exactly subtle. If he said something, he meant it literally.

Given the situation, the thing he was “supposed to do” probably meant dealing with the Death Eaters.

Well, that was simple enough.

Kyle opened his suitcase, fished around inside for a bit, and then yanked out a huge, furry dog head...

Moments later, a fully grown, three-headed dog—easily over ten feet tall—was dragged out, struggling, into the open.

“Smack!”

“Fluffy, quit sleeping. Time to go to work!”

Kyle gave the drowsy beast a slap, finally waking it up.

Two smaller black shapes had followed behind Fluffy. Kyle quickly snatched one of them mid-pounce and shoved it back into the suitcase.

There were students and professors around, not just Death Eaters. A Nundu? Yeah, no thanks. They wanted a victory—not mutual annihilation.

Boom, boom, boom!

A string of explosions rang out from the distance.

Kyle turned to look—one of the bridges on the north side of the school had just been blown up. It connected to a cliff on the other side, functioning, in a way, as a back entrance to Hogwarts.

Now it had been destroyed... Vicious Death Eaters. They were going to pay for that.

From Kyle’s vantage point, he could still see many Death Eaters scattered across the bridge.

But with the structure collapsing, those still on it tumbled, screaming, into the gorge below.

...Hmm. Vicious Death Eaters indeed—killing their own people?

Kyle shook his head and gave Fluffy another slap. “Go. Every last wizard in black, radiating with bad intentions—don’t let a single one get away.”

All three of Fluffy’s heads lit up with excitement, and he charged forward, growling with fresh irritation from his interrupted nap.

The massive dog moved like a charging fortress, a blur of fur and muscle. The Death Eaters nearby didn’t even think about trying to stop it—most couldn’t even look in its direction without flinching.

But Fluffy didn’t care. If they wouldn’t come to him, he’d just go to them.

The thick fur of an adult three-headed dog made ordinary spells feel like nothing more than a tickle. In seconds, the air filled with the shrieks and screams of Death Eaters caught in his path.

Kyle, a little put off by the sound, made his way toward the back of the castle—where the explosions had come from earlier.

No professors were stationed here—only a group of students. Maybe because they’d just watched a swarm of Death Eaters plummet into the ravine, their spirits were unusually high.

Dust-covered and grimy, Neville stood front and center. His face was as black as Lee Jordan’s, with only two rows of white teeth showing through the soot. Behind him stood Seamus, Justin, and...

“Ginny?” Kyle looked surprised. “Mrs. Weasley actually let you stay?”

“She didn’t,” Ginny replied proudly when she spotted him. “But I snuck back. She doesn’t exactly have the time to keep an eye on me right now.”

“Well done.” Kyle gave her a thumbs-up. “Just make sure you don’t tell her you saw me.”

“Don’t worry, I know the drill.” Ginny nodded.

“Hey, Kyle!”

“Haha! I knew you’d be here!”

Two familiar voices rang out from the crowd. Kyle looked up, and the nearby flickering firelight illuminated their faces.

“Mikel… Ryan?” Kyle was genuinely surprised this time.

He hadn’t expected to see his two roommates here—and somehow he hadn’t noticed them earlier.

“What are you doing here?”

“Helping, of course!” Mikel grinned. “Ryan’s dad works at the Ministry. He told Ryan something big was going down at Hogwarts tonight, so we came.”

“Don’t talk to me about him,” Ryan said with a scowl. “He actually wanted to run away with me. Coward. Even my mum knows this is when we’re supposed to stand and fight!”

“Maybe your mum doesn’t know how terrifying Voldemort really is,” Kyle muttered, smacking his lips. He suddenly remembered—Ryan had mentioned at the start of the year that he was a half-blood, and his dad was a wizard.

What he hadn’t expected was that his dad worked in the Ministry.

As for how Ryan had defied his father and ended up here instead of fleeing—Kyle didn’t ask.

But he was pretty sure there was a complicated, dramatic tale of “fatherly love” behind it all.

“Ah!”

A sudden scream cut short the friends’ reunion.

“Look!” a witch shrieked. “They—theyʼre coming!”

Kyle looked up and finally noticed the dense mass of Death Eaters gathering across the way.

There were so many of them, it looked like the far mountainside was covered in black moss—and this was just one portion. There were even more elsewhere… How on earth had Voldemort assembled such a massive force?

Right now, the Death Eaters were frantically building a bridge.

“Building a bridge” sounded like a laborious task—but for magic-wielding Death Eaters, it was hardly difficult.

And with so many of them working together, they quickly completed a passageway linking to the castle.

Some students tried to interfere, but the Death Eaters weren’t about to let them disrupt the process—they’d already designated a group specifically to protect the construction.

Spells from Ginny and Neville never even reached the bridge—they were blocked before they could hit.

“I’ll go!” Mikel pulled out his wand, ready to charge.

“Not yet.” Kyle stopped him, turning his gaze to the broad, flat clearing around the castle.

“Fall back. Everyone, back inside.”

“What?” Neville froze. “But they’ll storm the place!”

“It’s fine. Trust me.” Kyle’s tone was steady. “All the lower-year students have already been evacuated. Even if they get in, it won’t matter.”

He waved his hand.

And even though he’d only taught a few classes, he still had the authority of a professor.

Neville hesitated for a moment, then clenched his teeth and chose to retreat. The others followed him, heading back toward the castle.

Kyle remained at the front, calm and unmoving, watching as the Death Eaters finished their passageways, gathered in a frenzy, and began charging toward Hogwarts.

Behind him, Neville was sweating bullets, practically twitching with the urge to run back out and fight. But Kyle didn’t move, as if he couldn’t even see the swarm of Death Eaters flooding the field.

He waited.

Only when all the Death Eaters had fully crossed the bridge—and those at the front were just about to breach the castle—did Kyle slowly open his suitcase and give it a little shake.

A round, leafy ball tumbled out and bounced twice on the ground, almost playfully.

Then another. And another.

In the blink of an eye, cabbages—dozens, hundreds—began rolling out, spilling across the earth like a green tide.

“This is... a pile of cabbages,” Neville muttered, squinting as he stared at the scene, briefly suspecting the Kyle standing before him was an imposter.

The Death Eaters were literally at their doorstep, and Kyle had tossed out a mountain of cabbage? Was he planning to feed them? Wait a second...

Neville blinked rapidly. Thanks to his excellent grades in Herbology, he immediately sensed something was off about the cabbages strewn across the ground.

After all, normal wizard-grown vegetables didn’t have teeth.

“Chomping Cabbages!” Neville’s voice shot up a pitch, suddenly tight like someone had grabbed him by the throat.

Not even when the Death Eaters launched a full-scale assault had he lost his composure like this.

“This can’t be happening...” he stammered, staring at the rolling sea of cabbage spreading across the field. His knees were starting to shake.

Chomping Cabbage was a Ministry-restricted magical plant. Even just two could easily kill a fully grown wizard. In terms of danger, they ranked just below Venomous Tentacula—and were the only non-poisonous plant to make the dangerous classification list.

“This many... they can’t all be Chomping Cabbages...” Neville licked his lips, his eyes dazed.

But before he could dwell on it, the howls of screaming Death Eaters snapped him back to reality.

Bang!

Just as he leaned in for a closer look, Kyle slammed the door shut.

“What happens next is not suitable for children.”

“We’re adults...” Mikel grumbled from the crowd.

He’d caught a glimpse—those cabbages had mouths the size of dinner plates and teeth sharp enough to gleam in the light. He’d just started getting fired up, and Kyle shut the door? Unacceptable.

“Not suitable for adults either,” Kyle said, shooting him a look. “And now is not the time for this conversation. Hogwarts needs all of you—go find somewhere else to help!”

In just a few words, Kyle sent most of the students on their way.

But Mikel and Neville remained where they were.

“Hey, Kyle,” Mikel asked as he walked over, “what kind of crazy stuff did you bring out this time?”

“Chomping Cabbage,” Kyle replied. “You saw it back in first year. Don’t remember?”

“I don’t even remember what I learned in seventh year,” Mikel said with mock indignation. “And you expect me to recall something from first year?”

Still, once he learned it was just something from Herbology class, his curiosity dropped off fast. He turned and jogged after Ryan toward the tower.

“Kyle...” Neville’s voice was still shaky, the astonishment in his eyes lingering. “Are those... all Chomping Cabbages?”

“Should be,” Kyle said after thinking for a moment. “Might be a few Venomous Tentacula or Devil’s Snare mixed in, but mostly Chomping Cabbages.”

“How many do you have?”

“No idea,” Kyle said with a shrug.

He really didn’t. Ever since transferring the Chomping Cabbages from the Room of Requirement into his suitcase, he hadn’t paid much attention to them. Mostly because... well, he’d never needed to.

When Dumbledore helped expand the suitcase, he’d based it heavily on Newt Scamander’s design. The interior not only recreated full natural environments, but even featured dynamic weather—rain when it needed to rain, wind when the ecosystem called for it.

And their neighbors, the Mooncalves, had multiplied over the years, producing generous quantities of dung daily.

Whenever the wind blew, it scattered the waste down toward the lower areas where the Chomping Cabbages grew. Norbert occasionally dropped by with a fresh batch of high-grade dragon dung as well.

On top of that, Chomping Cabbages could self-seed, which meant Kyle hadn’t needed to care for them at all. Naturally, he had no idea how many there were now.

But he’d been growing them since his first year. The soil was rich, the conditions ideal, and the fertilizer top-notch. After all these years, it was safe to say—there were a lot of them.

The ones he’d just dumped out? Easily eight hundred—maybe a thousand. And Kyle had a strong feeling that wasn’t even close to all of them. If he started digging around, he could probably find plenty more.

The noise outside the door grew louder.

Kyle patted Neville on the shoulder.

“All right, no one else should be coming here for a while. Let’s head somewhere else.”

Neville’s legs were completely numb, and every time he looked at Kyle, a flicker of fear would pass through his eyes.

As someone who excelled in Herbology, he knew exactly how dangerous Chomping Cabbage was.

And that’s precisely why Kyle scared him so much.

Those Death Eaters... Neville’s thoughts flashed back to their deranged, frenzied expressions—and then, without warning, those same faces began overlapping in his memory with others.

A witch. She looked a little like Bellatrix, only younger and far less ragged than the images from the Daily Prophet.

There were people with her too...

Who were they?

The images in Neville’s mind flickered faster, like a television with bad reception. He couldn’t make out anything clearly.

“They deserved it!”

“What?”

“Nothing—nothing.” Neville quickly lowered his head. The words had just slipped out—pure instinct. Even he didn’t know why he said them.

Kyle didn’t press the issue.

“Where are you going?” Neville asked.

“To find Fred and George,” Kyle said, already heading into the castle. “They should be near one of the secret passages.”

Neville didn’t really have anywhere else to go, so he simply followed him.

They reached the front entrance just in time to run into Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushing down from the upper floors.

“Don’t worry, Ron—Fred can handle himself,” Harry was saying. “Right now we need to figure out how to kill that snake. I can feel the connection between it and Voldemort. It has to be a Horcrux!”

All three of them were injured in one way or another—Harry clutched his forehead, Hermione’s clothes were scorched, and blood streamed steadily from Ron’s arm.

“Are you all right?” Neville rushed up and pulled out a small bottle of powdered essence, handing it to Ron.

“Your arm’s still bleeding. This is Dittany.”

“Thanks, Neville,” Hermione said, taking the bottle and quickly applying it to Ron’s shoulder. He winced and hissed in pain.

“That should stop it,” Hermione said, relieved.

“I heard you mention Fred,” Kyle said as he walked over. “Where is he? What happened?”

“Oh—Kyle.” Hermione seemed to only now realize he was there. “It’s nothing serious. A Death Eater broke into the third floor, and Fred was there. He got hurt.”

“That bloody Death Eater!” Ron burst out, his anger flaring again. He struggled to get back up the stairs. “He nearly killed Fred—that bastard!”

“Nearly?” Kyle latched onto the word immediately.

“It was Cedric,” Hermione explained, trying to keep Ron from charging off. “Cedric saw the Death Eater in time and attacked. His spell forced the curse off-target.”

Cedric... Kyle paused, then suddenly let out a quiet chuckle before turning and walking back down the stairs again.

“Kyle?” Neville looked confused. “Weren’t you going to check on the Weasley twins? Hermione just said they’re on the third floor.”

“Ah, no need,” Kyle said. “Right now I’m more interested in that snake you mentioned. Can you tell me more about it?”

“It’s a snake with... three heads,” Harry said, pressing a hand to his burning scar. It had been aching for hours now.

He’d seen flashes—sometimes the barman from the Hog’s Head, other times a shattered, ruined floor. He was certain it was the snake’s point of view.

And it just so happened that Voldemort kept a massive three-headed snake near him. Harry had seen it.

“A three-headed snake...” Neville turned pale. His fear of snakes ranked just below his fear of his gran—and Snape.

“It’s nothing serious. Just a Runespoor—a type of magical beast,” Kyle said calmly. He remembered the creature too.

It had been near Voldemort when Aberforth intercepted him, but it vanished in the blink of an eye. Kyle hadn’t had the chance to track it down.

“Go on. What happened with it?”

“It must be a Horcrux,” Harry said. Worried Neville might not understand, he clarified, “It’s something really important to Voldemort. We have to destroy it.”

“No problem. Leave it to me,” said Kyle.

He’d never intended to let the Runespoor go. The only reason he hadn’t pursued it right away was because the bridge explosion had distracted him. Now he had time.

“But it’s a twenty-foot-long serpent,” Harry warned. “When it lifts its head, it’s taller than a grown wizard. We should go together.”

“That’s all?” Kyle waved a hand dismissively. “A twenty-foot Runespoor? I could handle one twice that size.”

“Trust me. I’ve got this,” Kyle said, looking at Harry. “Just tell me where the snake is... if you know.”

“Give me a moment,” Harry replied, then closed his eyes.

He was confident he could find it.

Maybe it was because he’d never been this close to Voldemort before, but ever since the Death Eaters stormed the castle, his scar had been on fire—almost like it was trying to force Voldemort’s thoughts into his mind.

It was as if they were becoming one and the same...