Cleaning up the mess left behind by Tom Riddle's latest attack was an incredibly tedious affair.
There were students and parents to soothe, public statements to be made declaring that the true culprit behind the opening of the Chamber of Secrets had been caught, and the task of clearing Hagrid's name...
However, all of that was for the professors to handle. It didn't have much to do with Kyle and his crew.
After finishing his "looting" of the Hydra's remains, Kyle hurried toward the Hospital Wing with the Weasley twins in tow. He hadn't forgotten that a certain "Old Bat" was currently lying there like a corpse. As for the twins, their hearts were set on their sister, Ginny.
Arriving at the entrance of the infirmary, Kyle saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sitting by Ginny's bedside, speaking to her with visible emotion. Kyle's gaze drifted past them toward a bed deeper in the room.
The "Old Bat" was lying there all alone. His only companions were the other Petrified students, making his side of the room seem profoundly lonely compared to the crowd around Ginny.
At that moment, Kyle found himself pulled into a tight double-embrace by the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley showered him with non-stop thanks. Kyle, slightly overwhelmed by their burning gratitude, could only manage a smile that was awkward yet polite.
Fortunately, the arrival of Madam Pomfrey came as a timely rescue.
"Madam Pomfrey, how is Professor Snape?" Kyle asked.
The Weasleys looked over as well, their expressions turning sheepish. Snape's arm had been struck by a Dark Arts curse specifically because of Ginny. In the heat of their emotional reunion, they had momentarily left Snape out in the cold.
Madam Pomfrey's expression turned solemn. After a few seconds of silence, she spoke softly. "We managed to save Severus's arm, but... it may never regain normal function again."
Despite having suspected as much, Mrs. Weasley still felt a pang of guilt.
Kyle stood silently by Snape's bed, looking down at the sleeping, exhausted professor. He was already mentally cycling through potential "cures." Generally speaking, a minor issue like an arm losing function due to Dark Magic erosion could be solved by simply lopping it off and attaching a new one.
Given the magical capabilities of this world, cloning a new arm from scratch was child's play. And if cloning didn't work, there was always the Winter Soldier route.
A mechanical arm forged from Mithril, a "Weasley Industries" original, perhaps even featuring a built-in "Ex-Wife" missile.
So, all they had to do was cut off the useless arm and graft on a brand-new one. He just wasn't sure if Snape would be willing to endure the axe.
Forget it, Kyle thought. Worst comes to worst, I'll just have Dumbledore tie him down. Whether Snape wants it or not, that arm is coming off.
A mischievous, slightly wicked grin tugged at the corners of Kyle's mouth. Soon enough, he'd have Snape "wash his neck"—no, wash his arm—and get ready.
For the students of Hogwarts, tonight was destined to be unforgettable.
First, a student had been snatched away into the Chamber of Secrets, followed by an uprising of creatures from the Forbidden Forest. Then, Professor McGonagall had cast Piertotum Locomotor. When the students saw those fully armed stone sentinels marching, they thought the sky was falling.
Just how dire did things have to be for McGonagall to activate Hogwarts' final defenses?
Under McGonagall's mobilization order, the other three members of "The Father's Woes" (excluding Kyle) had stepped up. Using Transfiguration, they had rapidly dug a trench in front of the Hogwarts castle gates.
Following that, the twins had initiated a carpet-bombing air raid, while Cedric Diggory stood behind the trenches, remotely controlling weapons.
The "Tailed Beast King" fired by the Hydra, the barrier that suddenly flickered to life in the sky...
After this battle, the reputation of the four members of "The Father's Woes" skyrocketed. The students' admiration for them had reached a level bordering on fanaticism.
When the other three members of the group reunited with Kyle at the entrance of the Great Hall, the buzzing chatter of the students vanished instantly. After a brief, heavy silence, the Hall erupted into a deafening roar of cheers.
Up in the Headmaster's Office, Kyle and Dumbledore could hear the waves of celebration echoing from below.
Dumbledore had just finished contacting the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry had confirmed they would return Hagrid first thing tomorrow morning and take Gilderoy Lockhart, the true villain behind this incident, into custody for trial.
Kyle sat in the chair opposite the desk, tilting his head as he looked at his "old man."
"Two professor positions just opened up at once. What's your plan, old man?"
Dumbledore, who had been basking in the joy of a resolved crisis, felt his smile vanish instantly. He rubbed his temples, looking quite the victim of a headache.
"Madam Pomfrey can cover Potions for a while, but as for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor... I truly don't have a good candidate in mind."
Kyle noticed a piece of parchment on the desk. Curious, he picked it up and realized it was a recruitment advertisement for the DADA position.
"Uh... are you planning to hire from the outside again?"
Because of the notorious danger associated with the job, the number of wizards willing to take the position was practically zero. They had finally found a "hero" brave enough to challenge Voldemort's curse, only to find out he was an idiot with zero teaching ability.
Take the poor soul possessed by the Dark Lord, for example, or that "vivid peacock" who did nothing but write novels. Kyle could already foresee that the professor for the next school year would likely be another useless hack.
Dumbledore sighed helplessly. "It can't be helped..."
Suddenly, Dumbledore paused. He realized there was someone perfectly suited for the job sitting right in front of him. Who was better qualified to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts than this little "Dark Lord" named Grindelwald?
Dumbledore arched an eyebrow. "How would you like to be a substitute professor for a while?"
Kyle pointed at himself in disbelief. "Me? A professor?"
Dumbledore smiled. "A substitute professor."
Is there a difference? Kyle scratched the back of his head.
How did a second-year student suddenly stumble into a professorship?
A person's destiny depends on their own struggle, but one must also consider the progress of history.
Kyle felt like standing up and reciting two lines of poetry on the spot to express that he wasn't being humble—Dumbledore really should find someone more qualified.
But on second thought, this seemed like a decent option.
He didn't actually need to teach the students how to "face" the Dark Arts or how to break enemy curses. The performance of the Weasley twins in tonight's Battle of Hogwarts proved that the path of combining magic with technology was immensely promising.
Even a Squib like Filch could easily defeat Acromantulas and Werewolves using weapons from Weasley (read: Stark) Industries.
Therefore, Kyle only needed to teach them how to operate the weapons manufactured by Weasley Industries. If every Hogwarts student could master firearms and pull the trigger decisively when facing an enemy, wouldn't that be far more effective than learning "Defense Against the Dark Arts"?
Besides, Voldemort still had several Horcruxes scattered about. His return was only a matter of time. Once he was resurrected, he would inevitably start another Wizarding War.
And when that time came, when Voldemort finally reassembled his followers, he would discover...
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