In the abandoned barn, Dumbledore—now missing parts of his memory—and Kyle, who had decided to stay behind, reached a preliminary agreement to work together.
They had decided to give it a try and see if they could save Ariana.
"We still have a bit of time," Dumbledore said. "We can talk over what to do."
"No rush." Kyle pushed open the barn door and stepped outside.
His sudden action startled Dumbledore. "Get back here—what are you doing?"
Having studied Time-Turners, Dumbledore's first instinct after returning to the past was to hide. He didn't want any contact with people outside his intended targets and aimed to keep his presence as low-profile as possible.
That was also why he'd prioritized securing the barn... It was an ideal hiding spot, and he didn't want any unexpected changes to derail his plans.
He didn't want Kyle exposing himself either.
Dumbledore tried to pull Kyle back, but he was too weak. After using magic so frequently earlier, his legs gave out the moment he stood, and he collapsed back into the chair.
"To get something to eat, of course."
Kyle turned around and said matter-of-factly, "I've been working all night—I'm starving. Even if we're trying to save someone, we should eat first, right? Come on, Professor. The food around here's nothing special, but it'll at least fill us up."
"I'll stay here," Dumbledore shook his head. "I don't want to be recognized—it could interfere with what we need to do. Just go and come back quickly."
"Recognized?" Kyle raised an eyebrow and waved his hand, conjuring a large mirror in front of Dumbledore. "Professor, you don't actually think anyone would recognize you looking like this, do you?"
Dumbledore looked up instinctively.
Staring back at him was a tired, weathered face. His hair and beard had gone gray, and even his once-bright blue eyes had lost their shine.
"I promise, no one would guess you're Dumbledore," Kyle said confidently. "You look nothing like that spirited young man. Even if you told someone you're the same person, they wouldn't believe you."
"You're right," Dumbledore replied with a bitter smile, shaking his head. He didn't argue further and, with Kyle's help, left the barn.
The two of them followed the path to the bar.
It was still early morning, so there weren't many patrons yet. Kyle led Dumbledore to his usual spot at the bar and ordered two breakfasts.
Calling it breakfast was generous—it was just two rock-hard pieces of bread that could probably be used to hammer nails, along with a cup of pumpkin juice. Not even a slice of fried ham.
But it was cheap—only one Knut.
Honestly, Kyle hadn't spent a Knut on his own in years. He'd nearly forgotten it was still considered legal tender.
"Make do with it. There's nothing else here. Or you could get a boiled potato."
Kyle casually broke the bread into pieces and soaked them in his pumpkin juice. Then, lowering his voice as the owner looked away, he added, "But I'd advise against it. Old Brown doesn't wash the potatoes, and they're not even cooked the same day. Tastes like biting into a muddy rock."
"No, this is fine," Dumbledore replied absently.
He didn't really care what he was eating. Truthfully, even if someone had placed a perfectly grilled steak in front of him, he wouldn't have tasted a thing.
"We should probably hurry—they'll be back soon."
"No need to rush. We've got plenty of time." Kyle waved it off and continued soaking his bread at a leisurely pace. "Actually, I already have an idea that might work."
"You've come up with something already?" Dumbledore asked, surprised.
"Not just now," Kyle said, shaking his head. "I saw Ariana a few days ago—up in the attic. That's when the idea first came to me."
At the sound of Ariana's name, Dumbledore visibly tensed and instinctively glanced around.
"Relax, Professor. No one can hear us," Kyle said with a grin.
He'd noticed that Dumbledore always seemed to lose his usual composure whenever Ariana was involved.
"So... you want to save her too?" Now that no one seemed to be paying attention, Dumbledore looked more at ease.
"I'd say the thought's been on my mind," Kyle explained. "Logically speaking, you coming back with me was the best choice at the time. But I also figured—even if you hadn't lost those memories—there's no way you'd have just walked away without doing anything… That guilt has been eating at you for a hundred years."
"Was I really that obvious?" Dumbledore asked, unable to help himself. "I always thought I was good at hiding how I felt."
"I was just guessing," Kyle replied. "But later on, you always seemed to enjoy knitting wool socks. That kind of thing usually symbolizes family."
"Is that so?" Dumbledore fell silent for a moment. "Though I really did wish someone would give me a pair of wool socks for Christmas. But no one ever did... People always gave me books—and most of them I'd already read."
"Don't worry, that'll keep happening for years to come," Kyle sighed.
Not just Dumbledore—he got the same treatment. Around seventy percent of Kyle's Christmas gifts were books. At this rate, he figured he could probably open his own private library in a few more years.
"So, what's your plan?" Dumbledore took the initiative to shift the conversation. "How are we going to save Ariana?"
"Saving Ariana isn't the hard part. We could knock her out with a Stunning Spell beforehand, or just come up with some excuse to take her away," Kyle said. "The tricky part is how to fool Dumbledore… and by that, I mean the younger Dumbledore."
"I understand."
"That's why I've decided to use this." Kyle pulled out a small vial of potion and a long strand of reddish-brown hair.
"Polyjuice Potion."
"Exactly." Kyle nodded. "Before they get back, you take Ariana away. I'll drink the Polyjuice Potion and take her place…"
"No."
Dumbledore rejected the idea before Kyle had even finished speaking.
"Why not?" Kyle asked. "It's the simplest solution."
"I have a feeling it won't work," Dumbledore said after a moment of silence. "You should know by now—I've come back more than once."
Kyle nodded.
"Unlike the last few times, your appearance has caused fragments of memories I'd lost to resurface. I vaguely recall having tried this exact plan before," Dumbledore said. "Taking Ariana away in advance, then impersonating her here."
"And how did that turn out?" Kyle asked.
"I don't remember," Dumbledore replied with some anguish. "But I can guess—if Ariana woke up and found herself in an unfamiliar place, she'd completely fall apart emotionally. And if that happened, the outcome wouldn't change."
"You mean… her Obscurus?"
"Exactly." Dumbledore gripped his pumpkin juice tightly. "Her emotions are the fuse that sets off the Obscurus inside her. Ariana has to stay here."
Kyle frowned, saying nothing.
He had indeed overlooked the Obscurus. Ariana had always been kept at home. Her world consisted only of her family—or more precisely… Aberforth.
Even a normal person would panic upon waking up somewhere unfamiliar, let alone someone with the emotional volatility of an Obscurial.
"There's one other way. But it's risky." Kyle narrowed his eyes slightly.
"What is it?"
"Telling Ariana the truth…"
"That's absolutely out of the question!"
Dumbledore shot to his feet, immediately drawing the attention of everyone nearby.
He quickly sat back down and lowered his voice. "You should know—the first rule of using a Time-Turner is that you must never reveal information about the future."
"Then we find a way around that rule."
"That's not something that can be changed."
"No, there's still a way." Kyle glanced at the empty seat to his left.
If it were evening, Corder would usually be sitting there, but since it was morning, he was probably still brewing potions.
"Professor, do you remember Corder?"
"Corder Potter?" Dumbledore asked, puzzled. "Why bring him up all of a sudden?"
"I've got an idea." Kyle suddenly stood up. "Come with me."
He left two Knuts on the bar and dashed out of the pub without looking back.
Seeing this, Dumbledore quickly and clumsily followed after him.
Kyle ran along the path south of Godric's Hollow, and before long, a red two-story cottage came into view.
The ground floor had been converted into a shop, with a hand-painted wooden sign hanging above the door:
Potter's Potions
Corder had just finished serving a customer. When he looked up, he spotted Kyle running toward him.
"Well, this is a rare guest," he said in mild surprise. "Looking for any potions? I've got Doxycide, Elixir to Induce Euphoria, Pepperup Potion—everything you need. And since you bought me a drink last time, I'll give you a generous discount."
Kyle glanced over the shelves. The potions were all fairly standard, with the Elixir to Induce Euphoria being the most expensive of the lot.
"I'll take everything," Kyle said, placing a handful of Galleons on the counter. "Everything on the shelves, everything in stock—I want it all."
Corder glanced at the pile of Galleons, then looked up at Kyle and chuckled.
"I know you've got money, but you didn't have to show up first thing in the morning just to tease me… No way around it now—you owe me the finest Brandy tonight, or I'm cutting you off."
"I'm serious. I'm really buying," Kyle said.
"Alright, enough joking," Corder said, waving his hand dismissively as he prepared to shoo Kyle away.
But then he caught sight of Kyle's expression—and the hand he'd started to raise froze in midair.
"Give me one good reason," Corder said. "Don't take me for a fool—you don't look like someone who needs run-of-the-mill potions."
"Alright, nothing gets past you." Kyle didn't bother beating around the bush. "I want to borrow something from you."
"See? You should've just said so," Corder let out a sigh of relief. "All this drama just to borrow something? You've been buying me drinks for over half a month—if you finally ask for something, how could I say no? Come on, put those Galleons away... So? What do you want to borrow?"
"The Cloak of Invisibility," Kyle said.
Corder froze for a second, but quickly recovered, forcing a chuckle.
"Come on, don't joke around. The Cloak of Invisibility is rare. Even the Dumbledores—richest family in Godric's Hollow—probably don't have one. How could I possibly..."
"Ignotus Peverell," Kyle said calmly.
Corder's voice cut off abruptly.
He stared blankly at Kyle, then silently walked over and shut the shop door with a stony expression.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Who's that?"
"The youngest of the three brothers in The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Potter is a descendant of his."
Corder's expression darkened even further.
"All because of a surname?" he said coldly. "Potter's not exactly uncommon."
"And what if you add in the southern highlands?" Kyle went on. "There've always been rumors that Ignotus's descendants settled there. Combine that with your surname, and the answer becomes obvious."
"Who said that?"
"Grindelwald," Kyle replied. "That's the reason he disappeared this time."
"Ha..." Corder suddenly drew his wand and pointed it straight at Kyle. "So you believe that legend too? You're after the Deathly Hallows?
"Oh, right, I almost forgot—you're one of those wizards obsessed with magical history. Of course you'd believe it. No wonder you've stayed in this village for so long. You only got close to me for that Cloak of Invisibility, didn't you?"
"You've got it wrong. That was never my intention."
"And you think I'd believe you? Liar!" Corder said, voice rising with emotion.
Kyle didn't offer a defense. He just slowly raised his hand, and with a subtle flick of his fingers—
Corder's wand flew from his grasp and spun into Kyle's hand.
"A wandless Disarming Charm…" Corder's voice was hoarse, and his legs nearly gave out beneath him.
He was sure now—if the man in front of him wanted to kill him, it would be as easy as breathing. Especially since he was now unarmed.
But in the next moment, Kyle calmly placed the wand back on the counter and stepped back two paces.
"Believe me now?" Kyle said. "I didn't come for your Cloak. If I had, there'd be nothing you could do to stop me."
With another flick of his hand, the metal shelf beside Corder began to twist violently, collapsing in on itself until it was a crumpled ball of warped iron.
Corder stared at the heap, the screeching of twisting metal still ringing in his ears. He swallowed hard.
"Alright. I believe you."
"I get why you're wary. You don't have to force yourself," Kyle said. "That cloak is a legendary artifact—there are plenty of people who'd kill to get their hands on it. If it weren't an emergency, I wouldn't be asking to borrow it."
"You're in trouble?" Corder glanced again at the mangled iron beside him… and made his decision.
"Someone chasing you? You want to use the cloak to hide?"
"Not me. Someone else," Kyle said after a moment. "It's about whether a little girl lives or dies."
"She important to you?"
"You could say that. I came to Godric's Hollow for her."
"Someone from the valley?" Corder asked, confused. "Who is it?"
"I can't tell you. And I'd rather you not ask." Kyle shook his head.
"Fine, keep your secrets." Corder held out his hand. "Hand it over."
"What…?"
"The Galleons. You said you wanted to buy all my stock, didn't you?" Corder said, completely serious. "I've decided to raise the price tenfold. Twenty Galleons. If you're willing to pay, I'll lend you the Cloak of Invisibility."
"You're agreeing?"
"What else can I do?" Corder muttered, annoyed. "My bones aren't as tough as those shelves. Come on, stop wasting time. Before I change my mind."
"No problem." Kyle quickly placed a pouch on the table. "Here—fifty Galleons."
"No need. Just twenty. I'm not taking more than that." Corder counted out twenty coins, tossed the pouch back to Kyle, and headed into the back room.
A few minutes later...
"It's fine, Patina—just a difficult customer. Go on back, I've got this."
As Corder spoke, he stepped out again—this time with a dust-covered box in his hands.
"Here, take it. The thing you wanted." He shut his eyes, put on a theatrically pained expression, took a deep breath, and shoved the box toward Kyle.
"Cut it out, Corder," Kyle said, unable to hold back. "I'm just borrowing it, not stealing it. I'll return it to you."
"You say that now," Corder snorted. "But even if you don't give it back, what am I supposed to do? Track it down? Damn that loudmouth Grindelwald…"
Kyle sighed. Honestly, his earlier approach hadn't been particularly convincing. But it was already nine o'clock, and he still had to find Ariana—he didn't have time to explain everything properly to Corder.
"Fine. I'll trade you mine, alright?" Kyle took out another Cloak of Invisibility and handed it to Corder, who looked completely baffled.
"Wait—if you already have one, why borrow mine?"
"They're not the same," Kyle said, shaking his head. "Mine's just a regular invisibility cloak. Yours is one of the legendary Hallows—the kind that can evade even Death itself."
"So I'm still getting the short end of the stick." Corder pouted and muttered under his breath.
Swapping a common item for a limited-edition artifact? No matter how you sliced it, it didn't seem like a fair deal.
"Then I'll throw in a bottle of good wine. That should make it even." Kyle pulled out a plain-looking glass bottle.
"Pfft, just mead." Corder gave it a dismissive glance. "That's hardly—"
He didn't even finish the sentence. Kyle had already uncorked the bottle, and a rich, intoxicating aroma filled the entire room in an instant.
Immediately, Corder was like a fish flung onto dry land—gasping as if trying to inhale every last drop of the fragrant air around him.
In a blur of motion, he rushed over to Kyle and slammed the cork back into the bottle.
"I want two bottles—no, three!" Corder's eyes gleamed with fervor as he stared at him.
"You greedy bastard." Kyle laughed and pulled out two more bottles of mead.
He'd originally set them aside before lending Hufflepuff's Cup to Fred and George—never thought they'd come in handy now.
Corder snatched the bottles from Kyle's hands and jabbed a finger toward the door.
"Alright, take your damn cloak and get out of my house."