It is said that in a state of extreme anger, a person's potential can be unleashed to its maximum, allowing them to punch through a thirty-meter-thick steel plate.
Whether Tom Hiddleston, fueled by the flames of vengeance, could punch through a thirty-meter-thick steel plate—we have no way of knowing.
But the anger allowed him to endure some kind of extreme pain, and that was a fact that undeniably happened right in front of several people.
In the face of Kyle's deliberately enhanced Thousand Years of Death with lightning, Tom Hiddleston surprisingly did not leap forward several meters like a toad the way Malfoy had. Instead, he forcibly held it in, turned his head, and gave Kyle a bone-drilling, heart-piercing glare.
In that instant when he turned, Snape seized the opportunity of his distraction, charged forward fiercely, and landed a heavy punch precisely on Tom's face.
This heavy punch of his successfully knocked the wand out of Tom's hand.
The two twisted together like street thugs in a brawl.
Kyle, caught off guard by a Cruciatus Curse, felt as if every bone in his body was on fire. Collapsing to the ground, he writhed in pain, wanting to scream, but only hoarse growls escaped his throat.
"Kyle! Kyle! Are you okay?" The twin brothers rushed over.
Kyle squeezed out a sentence with all the strength in his body: "Go help Professor Snape!"
A hint of hesitation appeared on their faces, but they still charged toward the two who were tangled up not far away.
They could still tell which was more important.
The effects of the Cruciatus Curse were not long-lasting, and its torment on Kyle soon ended.
Kyle struggled to roll over and get up. At this moment, he was drenched in sweat, as if he'd been pulled out of the water.
The brawl in the distance was about to reach a conclusion.
Kyle's eyes were filled with rage. That Cruciatus Curse from Tom just now had truly enraged him.
Perhaps from spending all day in the sunless underground brewing potions, Snape's physique was as frail as that of a complete shut-in who never exercised and only ever held a controller. In the hand-to-hand combat where fists met flesh, he was no match for Tom at all.
After kicking Snape away, the freed Tom scrambled and rolled toward his wand that had fallen not far away.
George and Fred were ultimately a step too slow.
After successfully grabbing the wand, the first thing Tom did was hit each of them with an Impediment Jinx, knocking them back before flipping to his feet.
At this moment, he had lost the calm and composure from earlier. His exquisite wizard robes were covered in mud and fallen leaves from the fight.
Tom roared in furious exasperation: "Enough! I am a wizard! Without wands in your hands, there's no way you can..."
A soft stream of water whipped around his legs. Tom looked down. "Aqua Eructo..."
Before he could even spit out the last syllable, his entire body was lifted into the air.
Boil Release: Unrivaled Strength!
Magic power surged massively into Kyle's arms, allowing him to unleash the kind of monstrous strength he had accidentally displayed in Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Tom, his legs bound by the water whip, was yanked back and forth and slammed violently like a rag doll by the berserk Kyle.
Snape stared at Kyle with a face full of shock, his horrified expression as if he were looking at a humanoid troll.
Was Dumbledore trying to get him killed?
Making him teach a troll?
If Dumbledore wanted to replace the Potions professor, he could just say it straight!
After the fifth violent slam, Tom Hiddleston was embedded in the mud with a dazed expression, meaningless groans escaping his mouth.
He spat!
Kyle disdainfully spat into the pit. "What a weak wizard."
It was all over.
A ball of fire suddenly appeared in the air. The moment he saw the flames, Kyle immediately let out a sigh of relief.
That was Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes.
As expected, in the next second, Dumbledore and Fawkes materialized in the flames.
Scanning the surrounding environment, Dumbledore pressed his lips together tightly, his eyes filled with deep anger and lingering fear.
He had never imagined that such an attack could happen at Hogwarts, right under his nose.
More than ninety years ago, he had lost a loved one. This time, no matter what, he could not lose Kyle.
Dumbledore strode forward quickly and checked Kyle's injuries.
"That hurts, doesn't it?" Dumbledore's tone was full of concern.
Kyle shook his head. "It's nothing serious, Professor. You should check on Professor Snape and Hagrid first."
Hagrid, who had fallen unconscious, was still lying there, occasionally letting out a few unconscious grunts. Beside him, Snape was bruised and swollen, clearly having taken quite a few wild punches.
As for George and Fred, they were the best protected—just some bruises from crashing into Tom's Impediment Jinx, with no other injuries.
Half an hour later, in the Hogwarts hospital wing, only Kyle and Dumbledore remained.
Snape and Hagrid—one with only superficial bruises from fists, the other thick-skinned and quick to recover—were simply treated by Madam Pomfrey and sent on their way.
George and Fred hadn't sustained much damage either; they had already returned to the common room by now.
As for Professor Tom, who had been violently slammed back and forth five times with monstrous strength by Kyle, nearly having all his bones shattered, he was given cursory treatment by Madam Pomfrey to ensure he wouldn't die, then locked up.
The Aurors from the Ministry of Magic would arrive later to take Tom Hiddleston away.
The only one who needed to spend the night in the hospital wing was Kyle, and Dumbledore stayed to keep him company.
Dumbledore could never have imagined that the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor he had hired had such a grudge with Snape, and that this grudge even involved Kyle.
Fortunately, Tom's target from beginning to end had only been Snape and Bellatrix. He hadn't gone mad enough to kill the young wizards outright.
Seeing Kyle still lively and jumping around, the old man's grave expression eased a little.
But when his gaze landed on Kyle's bandaged hands, Dumbledore let out a slightly pained sigh, his expression on his face becoming complicated again.
He had just heard everything that happened tonight from Hagrid and Snape.
Earlier that day, when he saw Kyle fiddling with some strange magic by the Black Lake, he had thought that this child, who had inherited Grindelwald's excellent genes, simply had magical talent far above that of ordinary wizards.
But from the combat experience Kyle had shown tonight, Dumbledore suddenly realized that the things Kyle had gone through during his five years wandering the streets of New York might far exceed his imagination.
Using a flashbang to turn the werewolves' keen senses into their weakness...
Turning the ground into spikes—honestly, this Transfiguration spell wasn't all that advanced...
But paired with the perfect timing, it precisely took down a werewolf...
Using lightning to stimulate the body and burst out with unimaginable astonishing speed, killing the werewolf sneaking up on George in one strike...
Severe burns on his arms yet continuing to fight without changing expression, instantly thinking of surrounding himself with flames in that urgent battle to isolate the werewolves until reinforcements arrived...
Enduring the torture of the Cruciatus Curse and still getting up to counterattack, exploding with massive strength to slam the opponent half to death...
After learning from Snape and Hagrid about Kyle's stunning performance tonight, Dumbledore realized that the fight between Kyle and those Muggles at the docks that night might not have been as simple as he had imagined.
Dumbledore knew full well that Muggles, in the face of wizards, were absolutely not as frail as most wizards believed.
In front of Muggles with guns, even adult wizards could capsize in the gutter, let alone an eleven-year-old child like Kyle.
It was hard to imagine how dire the situation had been for Kyle when he left the orphanage at age six, with his magic only just awakening.
Just how much hardship had Kyle endured in those five years of growth...
Dumbledore really didn't dare to think about it any further.
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