Chapter 604: Harry’s Decision

In the quiet of nighttime Hogsmeade, a loud cackle of schadenfreude rang out from The Hog's Head. Moments later, Dumbledore emerged, his face twisted as if he'd just downed a pint of stale Butterbeer.

"Kyle, is this really necessary?" he asked, his tone deliberate and strained. "In truth, Voldemort requires time to recuperate, and we don't need to rush solving the Ministry of Magic problem."

"I trust that, in the meantime, you'll be able to devise a more suitable plan."

"Thank you for the compliment, Professor," Kyle replied calmly. "Yes, I've already thought of an alternative plan."

Dumbledore's eyes lit up with interest. "Let's hear it."

Kyle's expression turned serious. "What about staging a Dementor uprising? A raid on the Ministry. Maybe one or two of them 'accidentally' find their way into the Minister's office for a little... chat. It could both address the Ministry's obstructionism and refocus attention on the Dementors—killing two birds with one stone."

Dumbledore turned away, his silence dragging on as they walked. Finally, he spoke, his tone measured yet laced with unease. "The Dementors won't rebel—at least not now."

"I didn't say they would definitely rebel," Kyle said with a shrug. "I'm just proposing a possibility."

Dumbledore remained quiet, deep in thought. They had walked as far as Zonko's Joke Shop before he spoke again, his voice hoarse. "Creating a false impression... I see. But I've never orchestrated anything like this before. There's no guarantee Fudge would believe it."

"It's not that difficult, Professor," Kyle reassured him with a small laugh. "Just stay in touch with a few key figures, like Madam Bones from Magical Law Enforcement or Barty Crouch. If word gets back to Fudge, it'll certainly catch his attention."

Dumbledore opened his mouth as if to protest but shook his head instead. A trace of regret flickered across his face, his thoughts seemingly far away. If he had known then what he knew now, he would have lowered his guard on that hill, no matter the cost, to end Voldemort.

The pair continued in silence until, without warning, Kyle felt a firm grip on his arm. The next moment, with a spinning sensation, he found himself standing in the foyer of 12 Grimmauld Place.

Mrs. Weasley, startled by their sudden arrival, nearly dropped the tray she was carrying. But her surprise quickly subsided when she recognized the source of the disturbance—only Dumbledore could Apparate into the Fidelius-protected house.

"You—" she began, but the loud crack of Dumbledore's departure interrupted her.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked, her brow furrowed. "He looked pale to me."

"He's probably hungry," Kyle replied. "He hasn't eaten much all day."

"Oh, By Merlin's beard! You've had such a long day?" Mrs. Weasley fussed, ushering Kyle into the kitchen. "Dumbledore should've stayed for dinner!"

"He likely had other matters to attend to," Kyle said casually.

"Well, you should eat anyway," she insisted. "Dinner will be ready soon."

Kyle nodded, feeling his own hunger catching up to him. Lunch at The Hog's Head had been edible, but barely—the undercooked potatoes still lingered unpleasantly in his memory.

The kitchen was relatively empty, but within minutes, more people began trickling in.

"Kyle!" Ron exclaimed as he entered. "When did you get back? Where were you today?"

"Hogsmeade," Kyle answered succinctly.

"What were you doing there?" Ron pressed, but before Kyle could respond, Mr. Weasley interrupted.

"Leave it, Ron," he said, patting his son on the shoulder. "If Dumbledore didn't tell you, it's not your business to ask."

"Alright, alright," Ron muttered, retreating reluctantly.

Ten minutes later, Mrs. Weasley placed a whole roast chicken and a platter of fried fish on the table. The dinner crowd was small tonight—only Tonks and Moody had joined.

Tonks looked utterly drained, her hair a dull straw color. Having pulled double shifts as an Auror, she was struggling to keep her eyes open, knowing she was scheduled for night watch again.

Sensing her exhaustion, Lupin spoke up. "Tonks, you should go to bed after dinner. I'll take your watch tonight."

"Really?" Tonks's hair brightened to a vivid red in an instant, but she hesitated. "But you were on night watch yesterday. Are you sure you'll manage two nights in a row?"

"I'll be fine," Lupin assured her. "I'll catch up on rest during the day."

"Well, if you're sure..." Tonks yawned widely, unable to hide her relief. "Thanks, Lupin. I'm really worn out these days."

"It's no trouble," Lupin replied.

...

In the days leading up to the start of term, Kyle maintained his usual routine of spending hours in the library, immersed in books and notes. It wasn't until the day before school started that his plans shifted.

"Are you leaving already?" Mrs. Weasley asked over breakfast in the kitchen. "Did Dumbledore call for you again?"

Her question caught the attention of everyone at the table, and they glanced at Kyle curiously.

"No," Kyle replied, shaking his head. "I haven't seen him recently."

"Can't you stay one more day?" she pressed. "Sirius can take you to King's Cross with the others tomorrow morning."

"I can't," Kyle said. "I came here from the Ministry, and all my holiday homework and books are still at home. School starts tomorrow—I need to get back and fetch them."

Mrs. Weasley nodded in understanding. Homework and textbooks were no small matter. "Alright, then," she said. After breakfast, she escorted Kyle out to a quiet street in front of Grimmauld Place, where Mr. Weasley was already waiting by a car.

"Hop in; I'll give you a lift back to the village," Mr. Weasley offered.

"There's no need, Mr. Weasley," Kyle replied. "I can manage on my own."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Weasley interjected firmly. "Grimmauld Place isn't exactly near St. Catchpole, and these aren't normal times. We don't know where the Death Eaters might be lurking. What if something happens on the way?"

Kyle smiled reassuringly. "They won't get the chance," he said as he opened the car door and climbed in. "By the way, please keep this a secret for me."

With a sharp crack, Kyle vanished on the spot, the sound muffled by the car.

Inside Grimmauld Place, the others had been watching from a window. For safety reasons, Mrs. Weasley had insisted they stay indoors, but their vantage point provided a perfect view of what had just happened.

"Apparition?" Ron exclaimed, stunned. "Kyle's only just starting sixth year, and he can already do that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Only if you underestimate him."

Harry nodded in agreement. "I'm pretty sure he's known how to do that for a long time."

"At least a year," Sirius added casually. "I saw him use it this time last year, and he was already quite skilled."

"Last year?" Ron's jaw dropped. "He was in fifth year then..."

"Yes," Sirius confirmed. "At your age, Kyle was already proficient in Apparition."

Noticing the crestfallen expressions on their faces, Sirius quickly added, "Of course, among your peers, you're all exceptional as well."

"No wonder Dumbledore only took him to Hogsmeade," Harry murmured. Then, an idea struck him, and he turned to Sirius with a hopeful look. "Sirius, can you teach us Apparition?"

Ron and Hermione perked up instantly, their eyes lighting up. "Yeah! Can we learn too?"

"Apparition is dangerous," Sirius cautioned. "And according to the rules, you're not supposed to start learning until your sixth year."

"Please," Harry pleaded, his eyes fixed on Sirius.

Sirius hesitated under Harry's earnest gaze, then sighed. "Alright, fine. But remember—don't tell anyone, especially Remus."

"We promise!" the trio said in unison.

"When will you teach us?" Harry asked eagerly.

"It's too late to start now," Sirius said, thinking. "How about once school begins? Either the weekend or during the Christmas holidays."

"No problem!"