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.