when i met you

104

"We will need," Dumbledore said very quietly to the phoenix, "a warning."

There was a flash of fire and the phoenix had gone.

Dumbledore pottered around and fiddled with an object that emitted a smoke shaping into a serpent.

"Naturally, naturally," murmured Dumbledore apparently to himself, still observing the stream of smoke without the slightest sign of surprise. "But in essence divided?"

Dumbledore replaced the instrument on its spindly little table. The wizard called Everard had reappeared in his portrait., panting slightly.

"Dumbledore!"

"What news?" said Dumbledore at once.

"I yelled until someone came running," said the wizard, who was mopping his brow on the curtain behind him, "said I'd heard something moving downstairs—they weren't sure whether to believe me but went down to check—you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. Anyway, they carried him up a few minutes later. He doesn't look good, he's covered in blood, I ran along to Elfrida Cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left —"

Lexi should have been sitting, her knees buckled from under her as she collapsed between Harry and Ron's chairs. Her mouth was agape and she began to shake, tears brimming in her eyes upon hearing the news. Ron made a convulsive movement and Lexi brought her left hand up to grip his tightly.

"Good,' said Dumbledore. "I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive, then —"

And moments later, the silver-ringleted witch had reappeared in her picture, too; she sank, coughing, into her armchair and said, "Yes, they've taken him to St. Mungo's, Dumbledore... they carried him past my portrait... he looks bad..."

"Thank you," said Dumbledore. He looked round at Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, I need you to go and wake the other Weasley children."

"Of course..."

Professor McGonagall got up and moved swiftly to the door. Harry cast a sideways glance at Ron, who was looking terrified. Lexi had moved so she was on her knees, doing her best to reassure Ron, but she was in no better state herself.

"And Dumbledore—what about Molly?" said Professor McGonagall, pausing at the door.

"That will be a job for Fawkes when he has finished keeping a lookout for anybody approaching," said Dumbledore. "But she may already know... that excellent clock of hers..."

Dumbledore was now rummaging in a cupboard behind the three students. He emerged from it carrying a blackened old kettle, which he placed carefully on his desk. He raised his wand and murmured, "Portus!" For a moment the kettle trembled, glowing with an odd blue light; then it quivered to rest, as solidly black as ever.

Dumbledore marched over to another portrait, this time of a clever-looking wizard with a pointed beard, who had been painted wearing the Slytherin colours of green and silver and was apparently sleeping so deeply that he could not hear Dumbledore's voice when he attempted to rouse him.

"Phineas. Phineas. Phineas! Phineas! PHINEAS!"

He could not pretend any longer; he gave a theatrical jerk and opened his eyes wide.

"Did someone call?"

"I need you to visit your other portrait again, Phineas," said Dumbledore. "I've got another message."

"Visit my other portrait?" said Phineas in a reedy voice, giving a long, fake yawn. "Oh, no, Dumbledore, I am too tired tonight."

A few of the other portraits started calling out his duties to the headmaster.