Chapter 789: Chaos

To be honest, Kyle's mood had changed drastically since the afternoon when they had danced.

The relaxed feeling had vanished, replaced by nervous tension. Even when Fred and George pulled him onto the stage, he hastily made an excuse and slipped away again.

The situation had changed too suddenly. Before, he hadn't been worried about what would happen if Voldemort showed up—after all, they had Dumbledore. Even if he wasn't physically present, Kyle believed he would still arrive in time.

But now, things were different. Ever since that moment in Bathilda's house, when the dappled sunlight gradually faded, Kyle's anxiety had reached an entirely new and unprecedented height.

The sun set, and night fell...

Fred and George were the first to light the bonfire. The invited band played with enthusiasm, and the flickering flames cast a glow on everyone's faces, pushing the atmosphere to another peak.

Kyle sat in an open space not far away, looking tired. For the first time, he felt that Fred and George's decision was somewhat irresponsible.

It would have been much better if the ball had simply ended there, with everyone going home. That way, at least they'd be safer. Why insist on lighting a bonfire and keeping the celebration going?

Isn't that just adding unnecessary risk? He sighed quietly.

At that moment, he suddenly felt a weight on his left shoulder, followed by a warm sensation. Turning his head, he saw a phoenix gently pecking at his ear.

"Fawkes?" Kyle blinked in surprise. "Why are you still here?"

But he quickly realized the reason. Fawkes hadn't wanted to enter Bathilda's filthy, cluttered house, filled with all kinds of strange odors, so Dumbledore had left him outside to keep watch.

And the moment Kyle got his hands on the Time-Turner, he had been so eager to use it that he hadn't even thought about moving to a safer location first.

Which meant that when he traveled back in time, Fawkes had still been outside—he hadn't come along with him.

For a brief moment, all the negative emotions left behind by Dumbledore's departure simply disappeared from Kyle's mind.

With a phoenix here, who cares about Dumbledore?

He reached out, running his fingers through the warm, soft feathers around Fawkes' neck, and spoke in a calm, soothing voice:

"Dumbledore… he doesn't want you anymore."

"Ow!" Fawkes pecked at Kyle's finger, making him suck in a sharp breath from the sudden pain.

"I'm not lying, it's true," Kyle said, rubbing his finger. "If you don't believe me, try sensing him. Can you still find Dumbledore's location?"

Fawkes continued pecking at him, but this time, Kyle was ready and easily dodged.

Not that it mattered—Fawkes wasn't being serious about it. The phoenix let out a soft chirp before lazily settling back onto Kyle's shoulder, looking a little bored.

"You already knew…" Kyle muttered, narrowing his eyes. He hadn't expected Fawkes to be aware of Dumbledore's plan in advance. They must have discussed it beforehand.

That realization also meant his plan had already half-failed before it even started. He had been hoping to take advantage of Dumbledore's absence to coax—or rather, steal—Fawkes away.

"I have to say, what he did this time was really unfair," Kyle continued, stroking the phoenix's feathers. "It wouldn't have taken you long to reach him, right?"

This time, Fawkes didn't peck him again. Instead, the bird hopped from his shoulder to his lap, tucked its head under its wing, and curled up as if preparing to sleep.

Kyle wasn't discouraged. He just sat there, chattering away behind Fawkes' back, slandering Dumbledore without restraint.

After all, Dumbledore couldn't hear him, nor could he refute anything. Kyle could say whatever he wanted. As long as he could trick—well, persuade—the phoenix to stay, that would be a major win.

As for what would happen when Dumbledore returned? Compared to having Fawkes, that was a minor issue. Who cared?

"Kyle, why are you here again? Hermione's been looking for you everywhere."

At that moment, Cedric, Hermione, and Harry approached from a distance.

"That's odd… how did your owl find this place—" Hermione began, but then abruptly stopped as her gaze landed on the bird in Kyle's lap. "Wait, that's not an owl. That's a phoenix!"

"That's Dumbledore's phoenix, isn't it?" Harry said. He had seen Fawkes many times before and knew the bird was particularly close to Kyle. In fact, aside from Dumbledore himself, Kyle was probably the only other person Fawkes willingly approached.

But Hermione and Ron didn't know that. Though they had seen Fawkes before, it had always been from a distance. This was the first time they were seeing the phoenix up close.

"He's incredible…" Ron said enviously.

He could already imagine it—if he had a phoenix perched on his shoulder, he'd definitely be the most eye-catching person in any crowd.

Hermione was just as excited. She gazed at the sleeping phoenix, then cautiously reached out a hand, eager to touch its beautiful golden-red feathers.

But Fawkes must have sensed something. In the next instant, the phoenix suddenly opened its eyes, flapped its wings, and hopped onto Kyle's shoulder before curling up to sleep again.

The silent rejection left Hermione looking a little disappointed.

"Fawkes doesn't like being disturbed while he's napping—just like you wouldn't appreciate someone yanking the covers off you while you're sleeping," Kyle explained.

"By the way, Cedric said you were looking for me?"

"That's right," Hermione quickly collected herself. "Cedric told me you're starting work at the Ministry tomorrow, and I have a few suggestions."

"What kind of suggestions?"

"About rebuilding the Ministry of Magic," Hermione said seriously. "I think the Ministry's destruction actually presents a great opportunity. We—no, I should say you—can implement some changes to eliminate the outdated and overly bureaucratic processes of the past."

"Go on," Kyle said, intrigued.

He really was heading to the Ministry tomorrow, and finding something to do wouldn't be a bad idea. Everyone else was busy, and being the only one with nothing to do felt a little off.

"First, the communication system," Hermione began, clearing her throat. "Harry told me that messages within the Ministry are sent via enchanted paper airplanes, which then have to travel by elevator."

"That's right," Kyle nodded. "Originally, they used owls, but they switched to this method because it was cleaner."

"But even with this system, the fastest delivery time is still about a minute. If the office is on a higher floor, it takes even longer—it's incredibly inefficient," Hermione argued. "If the Ministry used Muggle telephones, this problem could be solved entirely."

"Oh, here we go again," Ron muttered under his breath, turning his head away. "I've told her a million times, there's no way the Ministry is going to install Muggle telephones."

No one responded to him.

Kyle nodded. "Anything else?"

"The Office for House-Elf Relocation and the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee," Hermione continued. "From what I've seen, both of these departments are practically useless. They don't seem to be fulfilling their intended functions, and the Ministry should take them more seriously."

"Also, there are plenty of issues with the Education Decrees. The way Hogwarts operates is outdated—it needs reform."

Hermione spoke passionately, listing one idea after another. Harry and Ron stood behind her in silence, unable to get a word in. Aside from making a slight noise when she mentioned Hogwarts' education system, they mostly just stood there, resembling decorative mascots.

It wasn't until half an hour later that Hermione finally paused. She pulled out a bottle of Pumpkin Fizz she had prepared in advance and took a long drink.

Kyle took a moment to process everything she had just said… Hermione had certainly shared a lot of ideas, but not all of them were practical.

For example, her points about the Office for House-Elf Relocation and the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee sounded reasonable on the surface, but they were mostly based on her assumptions.

In reality, Hermione had never actually visited either of these departments, and she had no idea just how overwhelmed the staff were—especially the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.

Nowadays, it was nearly impossible for wizards to avoid interacting with Muggles. Even in places like St. Catchpole, wizards and Muggles lived side by side.

Over time, this naturally led to occasional conflicts or misunderstandings.

Magic could solve many of these issues—Memory Charms and Confundus Charms were common tools—but not everyone resorted to them.

After all, according to the latest Wizarding Law, wizards were strictly prohibited from harming Muggles. If a spell went wrong and a Muggle was injured, the Ministry's Hit Wizards would arrive immediately to investigate, and the offending wizard would face consequences.

Of course, in most cases, the punishment wasn't severe enough to warrant a trip to Azkaban. But penalties were unavoidable—typically a fine, ranging from 30 to 100 Galleons, depending on the severity of the incident.

And since both the Memory Charm and Confundus Charm were considered advanced spells, many wizards—especially those who had struggled in school or lacked confidence in their magic—preferred to report these issues to the Ministry and let professionals handle them.

That was precisely the role of the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.

The department was far from useless. In fact, it was staffed by two highly experienced employees—one with thirty years of experience, the other with fifty. Both were absolute veterans in the field.

The problem was that no one wanted to work in this department. Despite lowering job requirements to the bare minimum, there were never any applicants.

Aside from the low salary, the sheer workload was enough to drive people away. These two employees spent nearly every day traveling between villages and towns, handling an endless stream of trivial disputes between wizards and Muggles.

If there was a ranking for the most exhausting jobs in the Ministry, this department would definitely be in the top three—if not number one.

So Hermione's claim that they were ineffective? That was simply because she hadn't seen their work firsthand.

And in the current state of the wizarding world, even if certain departments did have inefficiencies, fixing them wasn't a priority.

Right now, the Ministry's top concern was dealing with the remaining Death Eaters. Everything else would have to wait until the situation stabilized.

That said, Hermione had brought up some valid points—like the Ministry's outdated communication system. The enchanted paper airplane method was indeed inefficient.

Kyle considered the alternatives. Installing telephones in the Ministry probably wasn't feasible, but creating a magical communication device similar to the enchanted coins used in Dumbledore's Army? That might work.

Or perhaps modifying telephones with Alchemy, replacing the wiring with magical runes to allow for seamless magical communication. That was another possibility.

Maybe Fred and George could help develop something.

Just as he was deep in thought, a sudden commotion broke out in the distance. Panicked screams mixed with shouts, and the music came to an abrupt stop.

"What, is the party over?" Harry instinctively turned his head.

But the moment he saw the scene on the dance floor, he froze in place.

The Tonks couple, who had just left not long ago, were lying on the ground, barely conscious. Behind them stood a group of cloaked and masked figures.

Death Eaters! Harry would never forget that sight.

"Bloody hell, how did they find this place?!" Ron shouted in horror.

"The Fidelius Charm has a range limit—it's possible we unknowingly moved beyond it," Cedric said, still managing to keep his composure. "And then there's the Tonks couple. If the Death Eaters were tracking them, they would have been able to pinpoint a general location."

"What do we do now?" Ron turned to Harry. "They're obviously here for you. We need to run!"

He grabbed Harry's arm, trying to pull him away, but to his surprise, Harry didn't budge—he stood rooted to the spot as if he'd been hit by an Incarcerous Spell.

Just then, a streak of light shot over their heads—a spell from the Death Eaters.

"What are you waiting for, Harry?!" Ron shouted desperately. "Move! Or it'll be too late!"

"Don't panic," Cedric said. "They haven't found us yet."

"No, but they will soon," Kyle said as he stood up. Fawkes, perched on his shoulder, opened his eyes.

"They can break through the Fidelius Charm's protection?" Ron asked.

"It's not about that," Kyle said, frowning.

"My dear niece, we came all this way to attend your wedding. Why don't you come out and greet us?" A shrill voice rang out from the Death Eaters. "Come now, don't keep your guests waiting."

One of them removed her mask, revealing a familiar, deranged face—one that bore a slight resemblance to Mrs. Tonks but was also entirely different.

When no one responded, she suddenly smiled. With a slight flick of her wrist, she pointed her wand at the motionless Tonks couple on the ground.

"Well, since you won't come out to greet us… Crucio—"

"Stop!"

With a sharp cry, Tonks stepped beyond the protection of the Fidelius Charm and into view of the Death Eaters, with Lupin close behind her.

"Well, well, Nymphadora Tonks, my dear niece," Bellatrix sneered as her cold gaze swept over them. "I thought it was shameful enough when my sister married a Mudblood. But for her daughter to take up with a filthy werewolf… disgraceful."

"This has nothing to do with you, Bellatrix," Tonks said firmly. "You are not welcome here. Leave. Now."

"You're telling me to leave?" Bellatrix suddenly let out a crazed laugh. "Did you hear that, everyone? She wants me gone—hahahaha—Crucio!"

A jet of light shot from her wand, hitting Mr. Tonks. His body immediately curled up, convulsing violently as he let out a muffled groan of pain.

"Stop!"

"Stupefy!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Tonks and Lupin fired off spells, forcing Bellatrix to shift her aim, but their attack only enraged the other Death Eaters. One by one, they drew their wands, and in an instant, the battle erupted.

The band that had been playing moments ago had no idea how to react. They abandoned their instruments and scattered in all directions, some Disapparating the moment they escaped the protective enchantments.

Meanwhile, the rest of the partygoers charged toward the Death Eaters.

Sirius was the first to spring into action, casting a Shield Charm to block the first wave of incoming spells for Lupin and Tonks.

Mrs. Weasley, after hurriedly shoving Ginny into the house for safety, joined the fray without hesitation.

"We have to help them," Harry said, taking off at a run.

"Wait!" Hermione grabbed him, blocking his path. "They're here for you. We need to get out of here first!"

"I can't do that!" Harry's eyes were blazing. "I can't just leave—I won't!"

Hermione's gaze flicked to the house in the distance. She understood what he meant, but logic screamed at her not to let Harry rush headfirst into danger.

"No, you have to leave with me," she said, gripping his arm and pulling him toward the opposite direction.

The Fidelius Charm prevented Apparition within its protected area—they had to move beyond its range first.

Ron hesitated for a moment, then firmly sided with Hermione.

"Let me go!" Harry struggled. "Dumbledore is here too—why are we running? Let go of me!"

His outburst came at exactly the right moment—just as the words left his mouth, the grip on his arm loosened slightly.

"Yeah… Dumbledore's here," Ron blurted out. He quickly glanced around. "But where is he? I swear I just saw him…"