Before the bathroom door was opened, the expressions on Kyle and Konan's faces were like this:
(*△)()
When they heard the sound of the bathroom door lock clicking, their expressions turned into this:
(°Д°)(°△ °|||)
Kyle, who had originally been "refueling the car," was so terrified that he instantly pulled the gas nozzle out of the fuel tank.
When Hermione first laid eyes on the scene inside the bathroom, her expression was like this:
(←■_■)
Immediately after, it transformed into this:
('益`)o
"You... the two of you!!!" Hermione shrieked in utter disbelief.
She had intended to fiercely berate these two shameless scoundrels, but before she could even open her mouth, Kyle clapped a hand over her lips.
Seeing this, Konan hardened her resolve. Deciding that in for a penny meant in for a pound, she dragged Hermione straight into the bathtub alongside them.
What had originally been a confrontation between two opposing armies had now turned into a three-way standoff.
The crashing sound of running water inside the bathroom grew even louder than before.
More than an hour later, Kyle lay in bed feeling somewhat dazed.
Hermione and Konan, like two lazy little cats, were curled up in his arms, fast asleep.
Kyle, however, didn't feel sleepy in the slightest.
Both of his arms were pinned down tightly. Even with a body built from years of physical training, his arms were struggling under the heavy pressure.
A numb, aching sensation continuously traveled up his arms into his brain. As time slipped by, this numbness gradually spread from where his arms were pinned down to the entirety of both limbs, before creeping into his torso and, ultimately, his entire body.
In this state of near-paralysis, it would take a miracle for him to actually fall asleep.
Not to mention that the little beaver's messy hair was occupying the vast majority of the right side of the pillow. The fine tips of her hair kept rubbing against his cheek, sending wave after wave of ticklish sensations over his skin.
This made it even harder for Kyle to fall asleep.
With both arms pinned down tightly as human pillows, he didn't even dare to twitch, let alone scratch an itch.
And so, with his eyes wide open, Kyle stared up at the ceiling with a look of complete despair, praying for the sky outside to hurry up and brighten.
Even now, Kyle could still hear the singing and strange banging noises coming from the far side of the campsite, echoing endlessly across the night sky.
He had no idea how much time had passed, but Kyle was on the verge of turning completely numb.
Whether his arms had lost all sensation or simply adapted, the numb ache slowly began to fade. The ticklish feeling on his face caused by Hermione's messy hair was also something Kyle gradually managed to overcome.
His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and Kyle finally managed to close his eyes.
Right at that moment, however, the sounds in the campsite suddenly changed.
As the singing outside ground to a halt, Kyle heard screams and the panicked sounds of people running for their lives. The clamor only grew louder as time went on.
This definitely wasn't a brawl between Quidditch fans; something else had happened.
"Muffliato," Kyle's lips moved faintly as he cast a soundproofing barrier around the room.
Magic so thick it almost condensed into a physical form replaced Kyle's arms, gently supporting the two girls' heads.
With minimal movement, he extracted his arms from their clutches and softly rested their heads back onto the pillow, his actions so gentle he was terrified of waking them.
Filled with the sheer fury of someone woken up just as he was finally drifting off to sleep, Kyle put on his clothes and stepped out of the room.
When he reached the outside, his two fathers and the old butler, Alfred, had also emerged at the entrance of the adjacent tent, all wearing their nightwear.
That's right, an adjacent tent.
When Konan had quietly slipped away from the campfire party to follow Kyle and Hermione, Alfred had already guessed what might transpire tonight.
So, he had turned around and ordered the house-elves to pitch a new tent right next to the original one. That way, they wouldn't have to return to the initial tent and wouldn't need to worry about disturbing Kyle and the girls.
Seeing Kyle's face flushed with pure fury right now...
Alfred's heart skipped a beat.
Did his business get interrupted halfway through by the commotion outside???
Standing at the very top of the gentle slope, Kyle looked toward the far side of the campsite where the initial disturbance had broken out.
People on the other side of the camp were fleeing en masse toward their location. Judging by their panic-stricken faces, they seemed to be running from something moving across the grounds toward them.
With the aid of Hawkeye, Kyle could effortlessly see what was happening on the other side of the campsite.
A massive, shadowy crowd of wizards in dark robes—wearing hoods and masks—was wantonly wreaking havoc across the camp.
Rays of light from spells flew through the air, and as they advanced, fires spread in every direction.
Wherever this group passed, it could practically be described as leaving not a single blade of grass standing.
Due to the suddenness of the attack, many wizards who were still celebrating were robbed of their lives without ever knowing what hit them.
Kyle could clearly see several lifeless bodies tossed callously around their feet.
Above their heads, four struggling figures floated in midair, their bodies contorted into various bizarre shapes by magic.
It was the camp manager and the only four Muggles in the entire campsite—the Roberts family.
Since the Quidditch World Cup had already drawn to a close, the Ministry of Magic had lowered its guard.
Coupled with the fact that it was the middle of the night, most of the Aurors had already withdrawn. As a result, when this group of Dark wizards launched their attack, there was virtually no respectable force left to organize a defense against them.
Dumbledore gazed at the chaos in the distance, the bright blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles burning with a roaring fury.
The actions of this crowd were simply beyond insane.
Just as he was about to make a move, Kyle reached out an arm to block him.
"Dad, keep the home safe," Kyle said in a calm tone, though Dumbledore could clearly hear the icy, lethal intent underneath his words. "I'll go handle these suicidal fools."
Without waiting for Dumbledore to respond, Kyle sprinted forward against the surging crowd, disappearing into the panic-stricken, fleeing mass within a few leaps.
Glancing at the silent tent next door, Dumbledore suddenly felt as though he understood why his son was so thoroughly enraged.
He couldn't help but offer a three-second silent prayer in his heart for those poor attackers.
Immediately after, Dumbledore turned his eyes toward Grindelwald, who had remained silent at his side the entire time. "Gellert..."
Before he could even finish his sentence, Grindelwald already understood what his old flame meant.
Humble Albus, seeking online assistance.
"Alfred, send someone to rescue those wizards."
After a moment's thought, Grindelwald added, "And send another person to follow Kyle and keep an eye on him."
Although he knew Kyle's strength inside out—and knew that even if the number of those small-time trash multiplied tenfold, it still wouldn't be enough for Kyle to slice through alone—Grindelwald, acting as a father, still felt a bit more at ease sending someone to watch over his son.
————
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