It seemed Fawkes had caught the Hogwarts headmaster mid-nap, as Dumbledore looked a bit dazed when he first landed. A cold sea breeze blew through the cavern, making him shiver, but it also cleared his head.
"Oh, Kyle, and Sirius… what's happened? Why did you summon Fawkes?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
"Horcruxes, Professor," Kyle said bluntly. "We've found Voldemort's Horcruxes."
For a brief moment, Dumbledore's composure slipped, his expression one of sheer disbelief—as if he'd just seen Snape in a tuxedo dancing with a Troll.
He'd spent years searching for clues about the Horcruxes, but had always come up empty. Now, after a single night's sleep, he was hearing that Kyle had stumbled upon them?
But before Dumbledore could process it fully, Kyle urged them on. "Time is short; I'll explain everything later," he said, nodding toward Kreacher. "Kreacher, please take us there."
Without hesitation, Kreacher scurried forward, guiding them deeper into the cave. Sirius followed closely behind, and Kyle brought up the rear, giving Dumbledore a quick summary of the events as they moved. Fawkes perched on his shoulder, gently pecking at Kyle's hair, seemingly anxious himself.
By the time they reached the heart of the cavern, Dumbledore's expression had darkened. He was deeply moved by Regulus's story: a young man, misled by pride, who sacrificed his life to atone and help destroy Voldemort's evil. It was the sort of bravery Dumbledore rarely encountered, and his admiration showed.
"He deserves every honor, even if it means using a Phoenix tail feather to bring him home just a little sooner," Kyle said quietly.
Dumbledore gave a single, respectful nod.
Fawkes finally stopped his anxious pecking as they reached a seemingly solid stone wall. Kreacher stopped in front of it, eyes bright with determination. "This is the place!" he announced, pulling a dull dinner knife from his robe.
"What are you doing with that?" Sirius asked, eyes narrowing.
"It's probably a blood requirement," Dumbledore explained, his voice edged with contempt. "It's Voldemort's way—he weakens his enemies before they even step inside. Once again, he shows he understands little of true terror."
Kreacher, uninterested in Dumbledore's words, was eager to continue. He raised the dinner knife, preparing to cut his own arm.
But Sirius moved quickly, snatching the knife from Kreacher's hand. "I'll do it," he said firmly, rolling up his sleeve. He doubted Regulus would have wanted Kreacher to harm himself, and he wouldn't allow it, either.
Just as he pressed the knife to his skin, however, Kyle's hand darted out, grabbing it from him.
Kyle casually slipped the solid silver knife into his pocket and pulled out a dark red bottle, holding it up to Sirius. "Remember, you owe me three hundred Galleons."
He popped the bottle open, and the strong, iron-rich scent of blood filled the cavern.
Dumbledore's mouth twitched with amusement as he caught on to Kyle's plan. Voldemort would never have expected someone to arrive with an entire flask of dragon's blood. This potent, highly magical substance was ideal for such an entrance.
Kyle tossed the bottle toward the stone wall. As the dragon's blood splashed against it, a dazzling white archway appeared, and the stone within the arch melted away, leaving a dark opening.
Kreacher bolted forward through the arch, eyes wide with determination, and the others followed, wands lighting up to reveal their surroundings.
They now stood on the rocky shore of a vast, black lake that stretched out endlessly before them. High above, the cavern ceiling was lost in darkness. In the lake's center, a faint greenish glow flickered eerily, like a distant will-o'-the-wisp.
Kreacher trotted along the narrow shore, his footsteps echoing against the cave walls. He stopped and began waving his hand in the air, reaching for something only he seemed to know about. After a moment's struggle—perhaps due to his short stature—he still hadn't managed to find anything.
Dumbledore, however, extended his hand and seemed to grasp the air with ease. With a soft tap of his wand, a thick copper chain rose from the lake, glinting in the dim light, and shot toward Dumbledore's outstretched fist.
The chain pulled something up from the lake's murky depths, and as Sirius watched in a mixture of fascination and horror, the ghostly bow of a small boat emerged, floating silently toward them with barely a ripple.
"What is that…?" Sirius asked, uneasy.
"I suspect Voldemort devised a way to cross the lake without disturbing the creatures he placed there, in case he needed to access his Horcrux," Dumbledore replied.
The boat bumped gently against the rocky shore, and Kreacher, eager to proceed, climbed aboard, followed immediately by Sirius and then Dumbledore. The boat was small; after two adults and a House-elf, there was barely any room left.
"Kyle, you'll stay here, with Fawkes for company," Dumbledore said kindly. "Voldemort has likely enchanted the boat to sink if it's overloaded with magic."
"Exactly," Sirius added, looking almost relieved. "Besides, it's just too small; even a regular boat couldn't hold us all."
Kyle had a feeling they were deliberately leaving him behind, but they weren't wrong. When Dumbledore boarded, the boat dipped so low that the edge was barely an inch above the lake's surface. There wasn't room for even a cat, let alone another person.
But Kyle suddenly raised an eyebrow. "Gentlemen," he said with a strange expression, "do you remember why you came here in the first place?"
"Of course—to find Regulus!" Sirius replied instantly.
"Then why take the boat?" Kyle gestured toward the lake's dark, still water. "I have a feeling Voldemort treated this water with some twisted magic. Anything pulled in would eventually become an Inferius. So, if Regulus's body is in the lake, it could be anywhere, not necessarily at the center."