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Chapter 684: The Battle of the Department of Mysteries
🕑 Added 2025-04-07 11:17:24 +0000 UTCKyle struggled to put his feelings into words. He had barely been asleep for ten minutes before being abruptly woken up.
“Fred, George, you’d better have a good explanation,” he muttered, sitting up and rubbing his face in an attempt to shake off his grogginess.
It was surprising enough to see the Weasley twins in the Hufflepuff dormitory. As for Mikel and Ryan, their beds were conspicuously empty—no doubt they were still in the common room playing wizard chess, having announced their intention to pull an all-nighter.
“I know you’re about to graduate, and you don’t want to leave Hogwarts,” Kyle said with a touch of irritation, “but sacrificing your sleep to wander around doesn’t seem worth it. I’ll still be here next year.
“And more importantly,” he added, his curiosity piqued, “this is the Hufflepuff dormitory. How did you even get in here?”
“Cedric showed us in, of course,” Fred answered with a grin.
“Never mind that,” George cut in, his tone more serious. “You’ve been to the Headmaster’s Office, haven’t you?”
Kyle nodded. “Yes, why?”
“Has the Order of the Phoenix been active recently?” Fred asked in a hushed voice.
“I haven’t heard anything about that,” Kyle replied after a moment of thought. “Why are you asking?”
“That’s strange,” George murmured, sounding doubtful. “If there’s nothing going on, then why did Harry and the others leave the school?”
“Leave school? What do you mean?”
“They just disappeared—flew away into the night,” Fred explained. “We were talking about the plans for our joke shop when we looked up and saw Harry flying in the sky.”
“And Ron and Hermione,” George added.
“They were riding something, though we couldn’t see it properly,” Fred said. “Probably Thestrals, I’d guess.”
“What?” Kyle exclaimed, his drowsiness vanishing instantly.
It didn’t take long for him to piece it together. Despite Dumbledore’s clear warnings, Harry must have believed his dream about Voldemort. There was no doubt in Kyle’s mind where Harry was headed: the Ministry of Magic. He had overheard Harry mentioning it outside the Headmaster’s Office earlier.
And it was almost certainly a trap. If Harry went there, Death Eaters would either be waiting or would arrive shortly after.
“When did this happen?” Kyle asked urgently.
“About two hours ago,” Fred replied after a brief pause. “We were arguing about our shop’s opening events when it suddenly came to mind… Hey, Kyle, where are you going?”
Ignoring the twins’ bewildered expressions, Kyle jumped out of bed and bolted out of the common room.
As he dashed toward the eighth floor, he unexpectedly ran into Dumbledore, who stood near the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.
“Professor!” Kyle called out, rushing over. He quickly relayed everything Fred and George had told him.
“I already know,” Dumbledore said quietly, his face unusually pale.
“Not long ago, I received confirmation that Sirius is safe and sound. I was on my way to tell Harry, but it seems I was too late."
“I believe they must have left while I was destroying the Horcrux...”
“So what do we do now?” Kyle asked urgently. “Are we going to the Ministry of Magic?”
“I will go,” Dumbledore replied firmly. “You’ll be safest here at the school.”
“No,” Kyle said, shaking his head resolutely. “They’re heading to the Department of Mysteries. My mum works there.”
Dumbledore hesitated. He wanted to reassure Kyle, to tell him that his mother, Diana, was perfectly safe. But the words wouldn’t come.
If their roles were reversed, Dumbledore knew he wouldn’t be able to stay behind based solely on someone else’s assurances.
“It’s okay, Professor,” Kyle said quickly, his voice steady. “As long as the opponent isn’t Voldemort, those Death Eaters are no match for me.”
“The Death Eaters are not as weak as you think, Kyle,” Dumbledore replied seriously. “Many of them were once the most skilled wizards of their time, forged by the brutality of war.”
Kyle didn’t argue. Instead, he opened his suitcase, revealing its contents with a practiced motion.
Dumbledore sighed. “Er… fine.”
In just a moment, he seemed to change his mind. “Take my hand,” he said.
Kyle immediately grabbed Dumbledore’s arm. Fawkes flew in from a distance, landing gracefully on Dumbledore’s shoulder.
A familiar sensation of spinning overtook them, and the corridor with its portraits vanished. When Kyle opened his eyes, they were standing in a dark, foreboding passageway.
“Are we at the Ministry of Magic?” Kyle asked, forcing his eyes to focus and swallowing down the queasy feeling in his stomach.
“Yes,” Dumbledore replied, looking intently toward the black door at the end of the corridor. “This is the entrance to the Department of Mysteries. I don’t think we’re too late—they should still be inside.”
Kyle stepped forward quickly, but paused when he noticed Dumbledore had not followed. Instead, the headmaster stood motionless, wand drawn, his gaze fixed on the far end of the corridor.
“So, you truly are here, Tom,” Dumbledore said coldly.
From the shadows emerged a tall, thin figure in a black hood. His snake-like red eyes gleamed with malice.
“Ah, Dumbledore…” Voldemort’s voice was as chilling as ever, dripping with mockery.
Kyle felt an icy shiver down his spine but had no time to dwell on it.
Dumbledore and Voldemort raised their wands simultaneously, and the narrow passage exploded with a clash of green and red light. The walls shook, and the air seemed to crackle with magical energy.
Seizing the moment, Kyle dashed to the black door, pushed it open, and slipped inside. The door shut behind him, cutting off the sounds of the duel outside as if they had never existed.
Breathing heavily, Kyle steadied himself. Dumbledore could hold his own against Voldemort. The real threat was ahead, and he needed to focus on the Death Eaters inside the Department of Mysteries.
Unlike the eerie silence of his last visit, the space was alive with chaos—screams, explosions, and the sounds of spells clashing echoed faintly through the chambers.
As he ventured deeper, Kyle came upon the Hall of Prophecy, a vast space lined with towering shelves of glowing orbs.
In the middle of the room, Harry stood with his wand in one hand and a crystal prophecy globe in the other, facing off against a woman with wild, tangled hair.
“Where’s Sirius?” Harry demanded, his voice trembling with anger. “You’ve got him, I know it—he’s here!”
“Ho ho, the baby wakes from his nightmare and thinks it’s real,” Bellatrix Lestrange mocked in her high-pitched, grating voice. It was sharp and jarring, like glass being scraped with a saw.
“Oh, Bellatrix,” another voice drawled. Lucius Malfoy stepped forward, his tone dripping with derision. “You don’t understand Potter as I do. He has a fatal flaw—personal heroism. The Dark Lord counts on it.”
“I know Sirius is here!” Harry shouted, his voice more desperate now. “I saw you capture him!”
Lucius chuckled darkly. “Learn to distinguish between dreams and reality, Potter. Now, hand over the prophecy globe, and perhaps we’ll let you see Sirius.”
Harry didn’t move, his confidence shaken. Lucius’s words—and the smug look on his face—were convincing. Sirius wasn’t here. Dumbledore had been right all along. It was a trap, and Harry had walked straight into it.
A chill crept through Harry’s limbs as guilt overwhelmed him. His stomach felt as though it had tied itself into knots. Because of his mistake, Ron and Hermione had been dragged here, risking their lives for nothing.
“Harry…” Hermione whispered, gently tapping his shoulder. She shook her head slightly, her expression urging him not to make any rash decisions.
“Oh, how touching,” Bellatrix sneered, her manic energy crackling through the room. “Look at them—so serious, as if they think they can actually fight us.
“If you give me the prophecy,” she added mockingly, “I might consider letting you all die together.”
“Shut up!” Harry shouted, his frustration boiling over.
Bellatrix burst into laughter, the sound unhinged and grating.
“Did you hear that? He’s giving me orders!” she cackled.
Her laughter cut off abruptly, replaced by a twisted sneer. “Who gave you the nerve to give me orders?”
“Crucio!”
Harry froze, caught off guard. Fortunately, Hermione reacted swiftly, shoving him out of the way just in time to avoid the Cruciatus Curse.
“Are you mad?” Lucius barked at Bellatrix. “If you break it—”
“No one orders me but the Dark Lord!” Bellatrix snapped, her chest heaving. “Anyone who does will die!”
Her frenzied breathing slowed as she regained control, and her cruel grin returned.
“Seize his companions!” she barked. “Let’s see if the boy can stay indifferent while his friends are being tortured!”
...
"Don't even think about it!" Sirius’s voice rang out as he burst into the room, wand aimed directly at Bellatrix.
“Confringo!”
The spell hit its mark, sending Bellatrix hurtling backward into a towering shelf of prophecy balls. The impact triggered a cascade, shattering dozens of orbs, their contents spilling forth like a ghostly rain of milky-white figures. Countless murmured voices filled the room, overlapping so chaotically that no one could discern the words.
"Run!"
The shout came from two more figures bursting into the room—Moody and Mr. Weasley. Moody moved to block the advancing Death Eaters, while Mr. Weasley ushered Harry and his friends toward the nearest door.
“Mr. Weasley, what are you doing here?” Harry asked, his voice laced with shock.
“We got a message from Dumbledore and came as fast as we could,” Mr. Weasley answered quickly. “But Harry, you shouldn’t have come.”
“Arthur’s right,” Sirius said as he caught up with them. “Even if you came here to save me, I have to say it—this was far too reckless. Even if I really had been captured, the last thing I’d want is for you to risk your life, let alone bring Hermione and Ron into this.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry muttered, staring at the floor.
“We insisted on coming!” Ron interjected, trying to deflect the blame. “When Harry said no, we followed him anyway.”
“Idiots,” Moody snapped, glancing sideways at Sirius. “What have you been teaching them? Dumbledore should’ve let me take over the younger classes.”
Sirius said nothing, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“Enough,” Mr. Weasley said firmly, breaking the tension. “Run! There are nearly twenty Death Eaters here, and we don’t have enough people to hold them off. Damn it, how did they get so many?”
“But Dumbledore should be here soon,” Moody added, his magical eye whirling. “We just need to buy him some time.”
The group fled through door after door, weaving aimlessly through the labyrinthine chambers of the Department of Mysteries, the Death Eaters in relentless pursuit.
Kyle, following the sounds of chaos, arrived at the Hall of Prophecy moments later. The sight was disorienting—a graveyard of shattered prophecy balls, their remains glinting like broken stars on the floor. Most of the shelves had toppled over, their contents lost to the destruction.
“Aha! I knew someone would still be here,” came a sinister voice from the shadows.
A figure in a black hood emerged from behind one of the few intact shelves. His tone turned gleeful as he continued, “You’re another Hogwarts student, aren’t you? If we catch you, we can force Potter to hand over the prophecy he took!”
“Not a bad idea,” Kyle replied with a calm smile. Instead of panicking, he tilted his head with interest. “But I thought I heard Sirius and Moody’s voices earlier. Let me guess—you stayed behind because you were too scared to face them.”
“Lies!” the Death Eater snapped, his high-pitched voice cracking slightly. “I am the Dark Lord’s most loyal servant! Fear? Never! I outsmarted them! And now I’ve got you.”
Kyle shrugged nonchalantly. “Then I guess you’re in luck.”
“Enough!” the Death Eater barked, his wand drawn as he stepped closer. “Once I have you, Potter will have to give up the prophecy! The Dark Lord will reward me personally. Oh, the glory…”
The man’s excitement grew as he noticed Kyle standing unarmed, his hands at his sides. It blinded him to the faint movement behind him—the subtle glint of dark blue eyes watching from the shadows.
“You’d better stand still and—”
Poof!
Before the Death Eater could finish, he was violently thrown backward. A massive crystal spear, forged from shards of broken prophecy balls, had appeared out of thin air, piercing through him with a sickening crunch and pinning him to a nearby shelf.
As the dust settled, Kyle’s wand slipped into his hand from his sleeve, and the suitcase, where an orange-yellow eye blinked back at him.
“You should be at Hogwarts right now, not here,” said a familiar voice from behind him.
Kyle sighed in relief, turning to find Diana standing not far away.
“Mum,” he said, surprised but reassured. “I heard Death Eaters might come to the Department of Mysteries, and Voldemort too. I brought Dumbledore with me—he should be able to help you.”
Diana shook her head. “Do you think I need help?”
Kyle glanced nervously at the Death Eater still pinned to the shelf by the crystalline spear. “Well... should I head back now?”
“Forget it,” Diana said with a resigned sigh. “It’s even more dangerous outside the Department of Mysteries right now.”
With a flick of her wand, the crystal spear transformed into a shimmering figure that dragged the howling Death Eater into the shadows, vanishing into the darkness.
“Didn’t your father tell you?” Diana asked as she approached. “Unspeakables are absolutely safe in the Department of Mysteries. Even if Voldemort were to turn this place upside down, he wouldn’t find us.”
“Er... no, he never mentioned it,” Kyle admitted.
Diana narrowed her eyes, and for a brief moment, a cold glint flashed in them.
Kyle quickly realized he might have inadvertently implicated Chris and hurried to change the subject with a sheepish grin. “Mum, are you okay dealing with the Death Eaters?”
“Why should we care?” Diana replied indifferently.
“This place seems important,” Kyle said, gesturing toward the Hall of Prophecy, which was in utter disarray. Shattered orbs and toppled shelves littered the floor, creating a chaotic mess.
“Oh, that,” Diana said dismissively, waving her wand. Instantly, the room began to restore itself. Shelves stood upright once more, and unbroken prophecy balls reappeared, filling their original spots.
“Only those directly involved in a prophecy can retrieve the corresponding prophecy ball from the Department of Mysteries,” Diana explained. “If anyone else tries, the prophecy balls can’t be permanently destroyed. They’ll repair themselves, just like this. And even if someone breaks them, they won’t hear the actual prophecy.”
“Ah, I see,” Kyle said, nodding in understanding. It explained why the Death Eaters had caused so much destruction without anyone from the Department intervening—they simply didn’t care.
They talked for a while longer, but Diana noticed Kyle’s frequent glances toward the door on the far side of the room.
“Want to help?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Kyle admitted. “Since I’m already here, I might as well do something useful.”
“Are you sure?” Diana asked, raising an eyebrow. “There are quite a few Death Eaters here, and a Wampus Cat isn’t going to make much of a difference. Besides, I can’t assist you directly for certain... reasons.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got more than just a Wampus Cat,” Kyle said confidently as he opened his suitcase.
A shadow darted out and rubbed its massive head affectionately against Kyle’s hand.
Diana’s eyes widened slightly. “A Nundu…”
Before she could say more, a massive black dog with three heads struggled out of the suitcase.
“Fluffy?” Diana muttered, recognizing the giant Three-Headed Dog.
Kyle grinned. “I borrowed him when we passed the Forbidden Forest for a Care of Magical Creatures lesson. He’s grown a bit, hasn’t he?”
Fluffy was indeed much larger than before—one of his legs was now nearly as tall as Kyle himself.
Diana’s attention shifted to another scaly head that briefly emerged from the suitcase. It sneezed two small streams of fire before retreating back inside.
“A Norwegian Ridgeback?” Diana said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“I borrowed that too,” Kyle said with a smile. “Last time, you told me not to take on the Death Eaters directly and to use my advantages. So... I prepared.”
“Oh, and I have a Basilisk,” he added matter-of-factly. “But it can’t distinguish between friend and foe, so I didn’t let it out. Wouldn’t want to accidentally harm anyone on our side.”
Diana rubbed her forehead, sighing deeply. She had indeed advised him to use his advantages, but this level of preparation was not what she had in mind.
“What’s wrong?” Kyle asked innocently. “Isn’t this enough?”
“Put the Nundu back,” Diana said firmly, her patience thinning.
The Nundu, known for its potential to wipe out entire regions, was no safer than a Basilisk—it was far more catastrophic.
“Oh.” Kyle obediently scooped up the protesting Nundu and stuffed it back into the suitcase.
Diana’s heart skipped a beat again as she watched her son nonchalantly handle one of the most dangerous magical creatures in existence.
Finally, without another word, she pointed to a door on the right.
“Go through there,” she said, her tone exasperated. “Keep going, and you’ll find them.”
