Dumbledore at the Hog's Head Inn

Ottery St. Catchpole was quiet at night. People had gone to bed early, and only a handful of 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, startling the birds perched nearby into flight.

Kyle lay on the ground, gasping for air as he endured the immense pain left by the Cruciatus Curse.

Now he finally knew what the Cruciatus Curse felt like. Though it had lasted only an instant, the pain surging endlessly from every corner of his body was indeed something one would never forget for the rest of their life.

It took quite a while before Kyle finally recovered. Supporting himself against a nearby tree stump, he stood up and surveyed his surroundings, quickly recognizing that he was within Ottery St. Catchpole.

He had not had time to think earlier, nor had he had any destination in mind. He had only wanted to leave that place as quickly as possible—to get as far away from Voldemort as he could.

In that situation, the place that instinctively came to mind was the one he knew best, and so he ended up here.

But none of that mattered. No matter what, he had successfully escaped Voldemort at last.

Kyle brushed the dirt from his clothes, dug a bottle of blue potion out of his case, and drank it in one gulp before beginning to analyze what had just happened.

This was not the first time he had faced Voldemort directly, but it had been the most stressful. Apart from knowing that Dumbledore would not be there to help this time, there was another reason: Voldemort's spells had become faster.

Far faster than they had been just after his resurrection.

Kyle did