Chapter 792: Dumbledore at the Hog's Head

The village of St. Catchpole was silent at night. The residents had gone to bed early, and only a few scattered lights remained on throughout the village.

In the woods not far from The Burrow, a figure suddenly appeared and crashed to the ground with a dull thud. The noise startled the resting birds, sending them scattering into the sky.

Kyle lay on the ground, gasping for breath, his body wracked with the lingering pain of the Cruciatus Curse.

Now, he finally understood what it truly felt like. Though the curse had only lasted for a brief moment, the agony—radiating from every fiber of his being—was something he would never forget.

It took a long while before he managed to regain control of himself. Bracing against a nearby tree stump, he pushed himself up and surveyed his surroundings. It didn't take him long to recognize that he was still within the boundaries of St. Catchpole.

There had been no time for planning, no destination in mind—his only thought had been to escape, to get as far away from Voldemort as possible.

In that moment of desperation, his instincts had led him to the place he knew best.

But that didn't matter now. What mattered was that he had managed to escape.

Brushing the dirt off his clothes, Kyle reached into his suitcase and pulled out a small bottle of blue potion. He downed it in one gulp before finally allowing himself to analyze what had just happened.

This wasn't the first time he had faced Voldemort directly—but it was by far the most intense. It wasn't just the fact that he knew Dumbledore wouldn't be there to intervene this time. There was something else, something more pressing.

Voldemort's spellwork had gotten faster.

Much faster than when he had first been resurrected.

Kyle wasn't sure if it was because Voldemort had grown stronger or if it was the influence of the Elder Wand… but his instincts told him it was probably the latter.

The last time, at the Ministry of Magic, it hadn't been like this. Kyle had been there, watching the entire duel between Voldemort and Dumbledore from start to finish. Back then, Voldemort's spells hadn't moved with such impossible speed—at the very least, Kyle had been able to follow them with his eyes.

There was no way he could match that now. Fighting Voldemort head-on was out of the question.

That left only one option—running.

But to ensure he could escape, he needed to make Voldemort angry enough to delay killing him. So, he had deliberately provoked him.

It was a risky move. The name "Riddle" was one of Voldemort's greatest taboos. Kyle had no way of knowing whether it would make him hesitate or simply kill him on the spot.

But if he hadn't done it, Voldemort would have most likely killed him immediately with a Killing Curse—whether to avenge Bellatrix or simply to vent his rage.

Unlike Harry, Kyle didn't have the luxury of Voldemort's so-called "favor." This was a gamble with, at best, a fifty-fifty chance.

Luckily, the plan had worked.

Blinded by fury, Voldemort had opted to torture him instead of killing him outright, and Kyle had seized that brief opening to escape.

Of course, part of the reason he had been forced into such a desperate situation was his own decision to retrieve the Basilisk first. If he had focused on preparing for battle instead, he might have been able to exchange a few spells with Voldemort before needing to flee… probably.

Though, something about it didn't sit right with him.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but after being hit by the Cruciatus Curse, Kyle had felt that Voldemort wasn't as overwhelming as he had always seemed.

Not weak—just not quite as invincible as the legends made him out to be.

Perhaps taking the Elder Wand had come at a price.

But all of that was just speculation. If given the choice again, Kyle would still make the same decision—he would run.

…

He waited a while longer, letting the effects of the Cruciatus Curse fade completely before stepping out of the woods.

Instead of heading to his house or The Burrow, he Apparated directly to Grimmauld Place.

The moment his feet hit the ground, something landed on his shoulder.

Then, a scream pierced the night.

Mrs. Weasley and Sirius rushed out of the house in a panic.

But their steps were unsteady, their faces pale.

In just a few steps, Mrs. Weasley stumbled, nearly falling as she tried twice to reach him.

"Kyle… thank goodness you're back." As she spoke, she shot a glare at Sirius.

Sirius couldn't have felt more wronged. He had never intended to leave Kyle behind—Fawkes had forcibly taken him away.

But he knew that no matter how much he explained, it wouldn't help, so he wisely chose to stay silent and stand quietly to the side.

Or maybe it was because he physically couldn't open his mouth at the moment.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley," Kyle said with a smile. "Let's go inside. It's too dangerous to stay out here."

Mrs. Weasley nodded emphatically and pulled Kyle along, ready to head back.

Once again, she veered off course, heading straight for the door marked with the number ten.

Kyle quickly grabbed her arm, and only then did they make their way to the correct house—number twelve.

Inside, there weren't many people. Aside from Mrs. Weasley and Sirius, only Harry and Ginny were there, sitting on the floor with vacant expressions. The only other person present was an old man who bore a strong resemblance to Dumbledore.

Aberforth, the owner of the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, and Dumbledore's brother.

He stared at Kyle impassively, then suddenly frowned.

"Where is that man? And why do you have his phoenix?"

His tone carried something unusual. Though he hadn't mentioned a name, Kyle knew exactly who he was referring to.

"It's a long story," Kyle hurriedly explained, fearing a misunderstanding. "Professor Dumbledore is fine, but he had something very important to do and forgot to take Fawkes with him, so I'm just looking after him for a few days."

"Do you even hear yourself? Or do you take me for a fool?" Aberforth narrowed his eyes. "That's a phoenix. No matter where that man is, it can find him. And you're saying it needs you to look after it?"

Though his expression remained unchanged, his hands clenched tightly around the back of a chair. "Tell me the truth. No need for all this nonsense."

"That is the truth, I swear," Kyle said helplessly. "The place he went… is somewhere Fawkes simply can't reach."

Aberforth stared at Kyle without blinking, as if searching for any sign of a lie.

Kyle met his gaze without hesitation. He was telling the truth. No matter how extraordinary a phoenix was, it couldn't just Apparate back in time a hundred years.

Still, he hesitated, unsure how to respond if Aberforth kept pressing for answers.

Tell him the whole truth?

Tell him Dumbledore had traveled a hundred years into the past to find Ariana?

Absolutely not. Aberforth's love for his sister was no less than Dumbledore's—if he insisted on going as well, Kyle had no second Time-Turner to offer him.

So he had no choice but to keep it from him.

Kyle was at a loss, trying to think of a believable excuse that Aberforth would accept. But no matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn't come up with a place that a phoenix couldn't reach.

Or maybe… he should just shift the blame onto Dumbledore and feign ignorance. That was probably the only way to get through this.

But to his surprise, Aberforth simply let out a cold snort and didn't press further. After confirming that Kyle wasn't lying, he returned to his usual indifferent demeanor.

Then, without another word, he strode toward the door. Just before leaving, he glanced back at Kyle.

"What a waste of time. The rest is up to you."

With that, he stepped out and Disapparated.

"…Up to me?" Kyle scratched his head. "What does that mean?"

"It means… ugh…" Sirius tried to explain, but the moment he opened his mouth, he nearly threw up. His reaction immediately triggered the others.

Ginny clamped a hand over her mouth and staggered toward the stairs.

Harry fared slightly better, but his face was pale, and he slumped weakly onto the floor.

It took Sirius a while to recover. He reached for a bottle of Firewhisky on the table and took a large swig, barely suppressing his churning stomach.

"By Merlin's beard! I've never experienced an Apparition that intense before."

Harry and Mrs. Weasley both nodded in agreement.

Harry recalled a time during Christmas break when they had visited St. Mungo's to see Sirius. Back then, Kyle had been taken there by Fawkes, and the moment he arrived, he crashed straight into a cabinet.

At the time, Harry had found it strange—he couldn't understand why Kyle had reacted so poorly to what should have been a simple Apparition.

Now, he finally understood.

Phoenix travel and wizard Apparition were two entirely different kinds of magic. When he had first been taken by Fawkes, it wasn't just that he couldn't stand—he could barely think.

It had felt as if he had been stuffed into a giant's nostril, then yanked out and flung onto a unicorn's hoof, only to be trampled for ten miles.

For a moment, he even thought facing Death Eaters in Godric's Hollow wouldn't have been so bad.

Looking back, the fact that Kyle had only crashed into a cabinet now seemed almost miraculous.

As the memories of the experience resurfaced, Harry could no longer hold it in—just like Ginny, he clamped a hand over his mouth and ran upstairs.

"Don't worry about it, they've been like that the whole time," Sirius said, taking a deep breath. "We were sent to The Hog's Head in Hogsmeade by Fawkes, and just a few minutes ago, the owner there sent us back—the one you saw earlier."

"Oh." Kyle nodded. "Are the others still there? Why haven't they come back yet?"

"Because we could barely stand, let alone Apparate back," Sirius said, gripping the Firewhisky bottle and taking another swig.

"Then the owner of The Hog's Head recognized Fawkes and gave us the address for this place—that's when we realized he was on our side," he added.

Mrs. Weasley continued, "To be on the safe side, we asked him to help bring the others back."

"Sirius and I came in the first group, Harry and Ginny were sent back just before you arrived."

Hearing this, Kyle finally understood.

Just as his subconscious led him to St. Catchpole Village when he thought of a safe place, Fawkes didn't consider the Order of the Phoenix headquarters as the safest place but instead chose The Hog's Head—where the other "Dumbledore" was.

"How is everyone holding up?" Kyle asked.

"For the most part… we're alright, I suppose," Mrs. Weasley said after a moment's thought. "Promise me, Kyle—unless we have absolutely no other choice, don't let the phoenix take us away like that again. If the Death Eaters catch up to us, we might not even be able to fight back."

"Alright," Kyle nodded.

He knew exactly what it felt like to be carried away by Fawkes during Apparition, but at the time, it had been the best option. Otherwise, given the sheer number of Death Eaters, there would have been heavy casualties.

And since Fawkes had deemed The Hog's Head a safe place, the Death Eaters wouldn't be able to find them there for a while.

"I'll go get the rest now," Kyle said, stepping outside again.

He had initially wanted Sirius to go with him, as two people would be faster, but after watching him down Firewhisky one gulp after another, he decided against it.

Forget it. In his state, attempting Apparition was just asking for trouble—it would only make things worse.

Without wasting any more time, Kyle Disapparated directly to Hogsmeade.

At this hour, all the shops were closed, except for The Hog's Head, where flickering lights still shone through the windows.

Kyle pushed open the door and stepped inside, but he didn't see anyone else. The only person in sight was an old witch slumped in the corner, seemingly asleep.

Aberforth, who had just left earlier, stood behind the counter, wiping a dirty glass with an equally filthy rag.

No wonder people said you were better off bringing your own utensils when visiting The Hog's Head.

At the same time, Aberforth noticed Kyle. The wariness in his eyes quickly shifted to disdain, and he jerked his chin toward the side.

"They're upstairs."

"Thanks." Kyle immediately ran up the stairs and, sure enough, found Fred and George at the top, leaning against the wall. They were likely standing guard.

Lupin and Hermione were tending to the unconscious Mrs. Tonks and her husband, while the others were deeper inside.

As for Nymphadora Tonks, if Kyle had guessed correctly, she was the old witch he had seen sleeping downstairs.

Fred and George exchanged a complicated look when they saw Kyle.

"Prove it's really you," Fred said. "What was the first thing we ever sold at Hogwarts?"

"A map," Kyle answered without hesitation.

"Alright, no problem." Fred nodded to the others, visibly relaxing.

"I've got a question," George said, stepping closer to Kyle. "Sirius said it was you who told the phoenix to take us away?"

"It wasn't me—it was Dumbledore," Kyle replied without missing a beat. "It's his phoenix."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, why?"

"No reason." George took a deep breath and shook his head. "That was one hell of a ride… even if it did save our lives."

"Ah, that's normal," Kyle said calmly. "You'll get used to it after a few more times."

"Not a chance—I'd rather face the Death Eaters," Fred muttered, clutching his stomach.

"We can discuss that later. Right now, we need to get out of here," Kyle said. "Get ready. I'll go get Tonks."

...

When he returned downstairs, the old witch slumped over the table had already stood up. Her face had returned to its usual Tonks appearance, though her hair was still a mess.

Kyle gestured for her to go upstairs before turning to Aberforth.

"Thanks."

"Don't bother," Aberforth said. "Just pay up. You've cost me an entire night's business—plus the cost of the Portkey. That'll be a hundred Galleons."

As he spoke, he tossed the dirty glass he had been holding. A faint blue shimmer coated its surface—it had just been turned into a Portkey.

"Or you can leave without it, in which case it'll only be fifty Galleons."

"No, a hundred is fine," Kyle said, then added curiously, "But why didn't you just use the Portkey to send them back earlier?"

"Better to lose two people than lose everyone," Aberforth said flatly, barely lifting his gaze. "Hurry up—you've only got three minutes."

"Ah... right." Kyle walked over and set a heavy pouch onto the counter.

Aberforth opened it and glanced inside. "Too much. There's at least two hundred Galleons in here."

"Consider the extra a small token of appreciation," Kyle said with a smile. "But actually, I do have a small favor to ask."

"A favor worth a hundred Galleons?" Aberforth snorted. "Let's hear it."

"Well… since you're Dumbledore's brother, could you officially promise to hand Fawkes over to me?" Kyle asked in a hushed voice. "If you do, I'll pay you an additional thousand Galleons."

Aberforth raised an eyebrow, then—without hesitation—pushed the pouch back toward Kyle.

"Don't be so quick to refuse! Two thousand… no, five thousand. Or if that's not enough, ten thousand Galleons—we can negotiate."

"Save your breath. It only listens to him—doesn't matter what I say," Aberforth said dismissively.

"I see..." Kyle thought for a moment, then pushed the pouch forward again. "Doesn't matter. Consider it a gift for a friend."

"I'll pass. I wouldn't dare accept it." Aberforth shot Kyle a wary look before flicking the pouch back into his pocket. "You're just as bad as him. Now, take your people and get out."

"By the way, the Portkey will activate in three minutes."

"Got it..." Kyle picked up the glass and turned toward the stairs, but after taking a few steps, he suddenly stopped and turned back.

"In that case, give me ten bottles of Firewhisky and ten bottles of brandy. I think they'll need them."

"Not selling."

"I'll pay five times the price. Put it on Dumbledore's tab," Kyle said casually. "He can settle it when he gets back."

This time, Aberforth didn't hesitate for even a second. Within ten seconds, he had everything packed up and ready to go.