The sudden mist obscured Voldemort and the Death Eaters' view, making them lose their target.
Faced with the dense fog that blanketed almost the entire mountain, Voldemort hesitated momentarily. He couldn't pinpoint Kyle's location, and casting a random spell risked injuring his own followers.
Not that he cared about their welfare, of course, but having just been resurrected, he had countless plans to set in motion. He needed them, at least for now, to handle the tasks he deemed beneath him. Letting them die here would be wasteful, especially given their incompetence over the past decade—crimes worthy of execution several times over in his eyes.
Raising his wand, Voldemort attempted to dispel the fog, but the effect was minimal.
The howling wind did thin the mist slightly, but clearing it entirely would take time. Meanwhile, Voldemort knew he had to act quickly to prevent his prey from escaping.
"Nagini!" he commanded coldly.
A massive snake, at least twelve feet long, slithered to his side, its movements swift and unimpeded by the dense mist.
"You can smell him," Voldemort hissed, his scarlet eyes gleaming. "Find the boy. Don't let him escape!"
The serpent immediately writhed off into the fog, moving with a fluid grace that defied the haze.
Voldemort returned his focus to his spellwork. The wind atop the mountain intensified, bending tree branches and forcing the Death Eaters to cling to whatever they could to keep from being swept away. Gradually, the fog began to disperse.
As the mist cleared, Voldemort's gaze snapped toward where Nagini had gone. What he saw enraged him.
Kyle stood there, not frightened as Voldemort had anticipated, but smiling. He was helping Harry to his feet, while a Niffler, absurdly, attempted to shove Harry's glasses into its pouch.
Nagini lay motionless on the ground.
And standing between them all was someone Voldemort could never mistake—or forget. Albus Dumbledore.
The old wizard stood calmly, his expression serene and unwavering.
Voldemort's wand shot up, and a jet of light surged toward Dumbledore.
Because Kyle and Harry stood behind him, Dumbledore did not move to avoid it. Instead, with a flick of his wand, he sent forth a burst of orange light. The two spells collided mid-air, resulting in a deafening explosion.
Dumbledore then swept his wand in an arc. Around them, the trees came alive, their roots tearing free from the soil. Thick branches moved like massive arms, lashing out at the Death Eaters.
Screams erupted as the Death Eaters scrambled to defend themselves, hurling spells that normally shattered stone. But these spells barely scratched the enchanted trees. One Death Eater, slower than the rest, was caught by a branch that pierced his leg, eliciting a howl of pain.
Meanwhile, the ground beneath Kyle suddenly transformed into a steep slope. Without hesitation, Kyle and Harry slid down it as though on a natural slide, retreating swiftly from the battlefield.
Just before the slide took them away, Kyle grabbed Nagini's tail, dragging the massive snake along with him.
"No! Stop!"
Voldemort's piercing shriek rang out, but Kyle paid no heed, tightening his grip on the snake.
With Dumbledore holding the field, what could Voldemort do to him?
Sure enough, as Voldemort moved to pursue them, a powerful spell forced him back.
"Out of the way, Dumbledore!"
"You know this is impossible, Tom," Dumbledore replied calmly. "So let this mark the end of your resurrection."
"So, you mean to take my life? Dumbledore... can you truly bring yourself to commit such a cruel act?"
Kyle couldn't hear the rest of the exchange.
He and Harry continued sliding uncontrollably down the steep slope conjured by Dumbledore. It felt endless, the uneven terrain peppered with sharp stones making the descent painful. By the time they finally came to a halt, Harry was in agony. His body ached all over, and he lay sprawled on the ground, groaning as he tried to find a position that didn't hurt.
Kyle, on the other hand, fared much better. He had managed to climb onto Nagini early in the descent, using the snake's massive body as a makeshift cushion. Standing up and dusting himself off, Kyle opened his suitcase, placed it on the ground, and began shoving the limp snake inside by its tail.
Midway through, something brushed against his arm, startling him. He spun around, only to find Harry standing awkwardly nearby.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, squinting at him.
"Kyle? I'm sorry..." Harry reached out blindly, his hands groping at the air. "I can't see very well. Have you seen my glasses anywhere?"
Kyle glanced at the Niffler perched on his shoulder. The mischievous creature instinctively covered its pockets with its little paws.
"No," Kyle replied evenly, shaking his head. "I think I dropped them on the way here."
In truth, the Niffler had Harry's glasses, and Kyle had no intention of returning them. Without the Niffler, Kyle wouldn't have found Harry in the fog, and Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to save either of them. In a way, the Niffler had saved Harry's life. A pair of glasses seemed like a fair price to pay.
Besides, there were things Harry didn't need to see right now. His current state of blurred vision suited Kyle just fine.
Kyle quickened his pace, shoving the rest of Nagini's body into the suitcase.
Harry squinted harder, trying to make sense of the blurry figure in front of him. All he could discern was Kyle hunched over something that vaguely resembled a large piece of wood.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked again.
"Ah, nothing. Just moving some things," Kyle replied casually.
With a final push, he stuffed the rest of Nagini inside, shut the suitcase, and stood up.
By now, they had reached a spot near the village at the base of the mountain. The view of the mountaintop was obscured, though occasional flashes of multicolored light lit up the sky above, hinting at the battle raging there.
"I thought I heard Professor Dumbledore's voice earlier," Harry said, struggling to his feet.
Now more alert, Harry spoke urgently, "Kyle, you have to tell Professor Dumbledore—Voldemort... Voldemort has come back to life. Someone used a hand, a bone... and my blood! They put it all in a cauldron and boiled it, and Voldemort... he came out of it. We have to let Professor Dumbledore know right away!"
Kyle blinked, his mind snagging on the description. Harry's recounting sounded oddly familiar... Yes, that was exactly how Hagrid made his infamous hodgepodge stew—throwing in all sorts of claws and bones before adding the main ingredient at the end.
Could it be that Voldemort had learned this method from Hagrid?
Kyle shook his head, banishing the absurd thought.
"I'm not joking!" Harry insisted, misinterpreting Kyle's silence. "Voldemort is really back. We have to hurry and tell Professor Dumbledore!"
"Relax, Harry, I believe you," Kyle reassured him. "Remember? I saw him too. And Professor Dumbledore already knows."
"He does?"
"Of course. He's up there right now, fighting Voldemort. We were sent down by him for safety."
"So that really was Professor Dumbledore?" Harry murmured, his voice tinged with wonder.
"Of course. How else do you think we managed to escape?" Kyle said.
"That's... good. That's really good," Harry muttered, relief washing over him. His legs gave out, and he sank back to the ground, too overwhelmed to stand any longer.