At 5 a.m., with the sky just beginning to lighten, Kyle was awakened by the sound of owls pecking insistently at his window.
Yawning, he sat up and rubbed his face, trying to wake himself up. It took a few minutes before the reality of the day ahead hit him—he was scheduled for questioning at the Ministry. On top of that, Diana had something planned for him at the Department of Mysteries before the official start of the workday.
Quickly, Kyle jumped out of bed, got dressed, and headed downstairs to the living room to get some breakfast.
Chris was already there, setting a plate of fried ham and bread on the table.
"I was just about to come get you," Chris said. "Want something to drink? How about Pumpkin juice?"
"Sure," Kyle replied, taking a seat and spreading raspberry jam on a slice of bread.
"No need to rush," Chris said, placing a tall glass of Pumpkin juice in front of him. "We'll Apparate to London in a bit. It'll save us plenty of time."
Kyle nodded absently, still mulling over why Diana had asked him to go to the Department of Mysteries. The question had kept him awake the previous night, and he'd only managed to fall asleep in the early hours of the morning.
Half an hour later, as the sun began to rise, the two of them left the house.
"Ready?" Chris asked, extending his arm. "Hold on tight—we're heading out."
Kyle grabbed his father's shoulder, and a second later, the familiar sensation of being squeezed through a narrow tube overwhelmed him. When he opened his eyes, they were standing in an old record store.
The shopkeeper glanced up lazily but showed no surprise at their sudden appearance.
"Chris, early start today?"
"Hi, Rudd," Chris greeted him casually. "Had to. Too many reports piling up."
"Another batch of people wanting to keep Magical Creatures?" Rudd asked knowingly. "Ever since the Triwizard Tournament, everyone's suddenly interested in keeping creatures. I bet you've been swamped."
"You've no idea," Chris sighed. "Just yesterday, I had to stop someone from keeping a Kelpie. I don't know when people will realize that not every Magical Creature is as harmless as a Puffskein."
"That lesson might take a while," Rudd chuckled before turning to Kyle. "Ah, sorry, young man, but this is the Ministry's employee entrance. Visitors need to use the front entrance across the street."
"This is my son, Kyle," Chris clarified quickly. "He's coming to the Ministry for questioning today—9 o'clock, Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"Oh… so this is Kyle?" Rudd suddenly looked more awake, his eyes lighting up with recognition. "The one who won the Triwizard Tournament?"
Kyle nodded politely, a bit taken aback by the man's enthusiasm.
"You were the youngest Champion, weren't you? Incredible work."
Rudd's expression turned thoughtful as he tapped a notebook lying on the counter. The pages flipped on their own until they landed on the most recent entry.
"Ah, yes," Rudd said, glancing at the page. "You got a warning letter about seven days ago for using a spell in the Leaky Cauldron…"
He froze mid-sentence, his voice rising incredulously. "Wait, the Leaky Cauldron?"
Rudd stared at the entry in disbelief. "By Merlin's beard! That's absurd! If you can't use spells in the Leaky Cauldron, why don't they just take our wands away?"
"Probably because no one would agree to it," Chris said dryly.
"Of course no one would agree," Rudd said with a snort, shutting the notebook. He looked back at Kyle, his expression softening. "Well, my boy, you've done nothing wrong, so there's no need to be nervous. Amelia Bones, who oversees the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, is a fair-minded witch. I'm sure she won't penalize you over something as ridiculous as this."
"Thanks," Kyle said, smiling. Rudd's reassuring demeanor was a welcome start to the morning.
"Can we head in now?" Chris asked. "Sorry, we're in a bit of a rush."
"Of course. Go ahead," Rudd said, tapping a raised section of the counter with his wand. The nearby display window slid aside, revealing a hidden passageway.
"Thanks," Chris said as he led Kyle through.
At the end of the passage was a long corridor lined with fireplaces for the Floo Network. It was still early, and all of them were extinguished.
In the middle of the corridor stood a figure, waiting for them.
"Right on time," Diana said to Chris as she approached them. "Pick him up at the Department of Mysteries at half past eight. Wait on the same floor."
"Okay," Chris replied.
"Now, come with me," Diana said, turning to Kyle.
She led him away from the fireplace corridor and into an elevator. The elevator was as empty as the corridor, its only sound the cold, mechanical voice announcing the floors as they passed.
"Remember," Diana instructed, her tone firm, "don't wander off or look around. Just follow me. And whatever you see in there, don't speak of it to anyone—not the Weasley brothers, not Kanna, not anyone."
"Okay," Kyle agreed, nodding.
As he replied, the cold voice announced:
"Department of Mysteries."
"We're here," Diana said, stepping out of the elevator. Kyle quickly followed.
He'd been here once before, but on that occasion, he had taken a left at the stairs after exiting the elevator. This time, Diana led him straight down the corridor to a simple, unmarked door at the end.
"Don't look around or wander off," Diana repeated as she pushed open the door.
Kyle stepped inside and immediately felt disoriented. The room was large and circular, its walls, floor, and ceiling all a deep black, as though the space had been washed in ink. Blue flames flickered coldly from candle branches mounted on the walls, offering no warmth, only an eerie light.
The walls were lined with identical black doors, unmarked and indistinguishable from one another. Diana barely glanced at them as she strode toward the door directly ahead.
As Kyle followed her, he felt as though he'd stepped into a labyrinth. Everything looked the same: the same dark walls, the same unmarked doors. If he hadn't been following Diana, he was sure he would have become hopelessly lost.
They walked for nearly ten minutes before Kyle finally saw something different—a massive water tank that filled an entire room. Suspended inside were shapes that occasionally resembled brains.
He recognized it immediately. Diana had used a smaller version of this tank during the interrogation of Peter Pettigrew to reveal that he was the Secret Keeper. But that one had been the size of a table; this tank was colossal by comparison.
Further ahead, they passed through a room bathed in a golden glow. As Kyle entered, he noticed a rhythmic ticking sound, like the hands of a clock striking or water dripping into an hourglass.
Then, something strange began to happen.
Kyle felt as though he were growing taller. His clothes, which had fit perfectly just moments ago, now felt tight at the shoulders, and his trousers were too short, leaving his ankles exposed. But within seconds, the sensation reversed—he shrank, and his clothes became baggy, the hems of his trousers dragging on the ground and nearly tripping him.
As they reached the door at the far end, Diana opened it, and everything returned to normal the moment Kyle stepped through.
"This is it," Diana said, stopping in her tracks.
Kyle looked around and saw they were standing in a vast, cavernous space.
The room was arranged like an amphitheater, with rows of stone benches descending steeply toward the center, much like the Quidditch World Cup stadium. They were at the very top, and from their vantage point, Kyle could see a tall stone platform in the center of the room.
On the platform stood a stone archway, ancient and weathered.
"Come on," Diana said, taking Kyle's hand.
With one step, they were suddenly on the stone platform, next to the archway.
Apparition?
No, it wasn't Apparition. Apparition had a telltale sound and sensation, and this transition had been completely silent.
What kind of magic was this? Kyle felt a spark of curiosity but didn't ask, noting Diana's serious expression.
"Come over here," she said, leading him to the middle of the arch.
The space within the stone arch rippled like the surface of a pond disturbed by a pebble. Beyond the rippling plane was a faint white mist, drifting slowly, obscuring whatever lay beyond.