𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 ★ [Harry Potter Universe]

01. the last lestrange

Night had just set in Suffolk, England and the only sound came from the chilly November air rustling the leaves. On the edge of town, surrounded by countryside sat the quaint cottage which housed the Tonks family. Ted, his wife Andromeda, and their bright and lively daughter Nymphadora.

There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of the street, it was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the lone house on this street.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, he appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched, and its eyes narrowed.

The man was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

In one arm Albus was carrying a small wickers basket, almost as if he was going for a picnic. Dumbledore's other hand was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him.

He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest streetlamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again -- the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him.

Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward the cottage, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it. "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead, he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked only slightly ruffled.

Dumbledore moved to sit next to McGonagall on the brick wall. He sat the basket between them. "Is this her?" McGonagall asked quietly.

Dumbledore nodded and McGonagall took this as her cue to lift the lid of the basket. Inside a small baby girl, no older than one was sleeping soundly. A small head with a tuft of light, soft brown curly hair was the only part of her visible amidst an assortment of blankets. McGonagall smiled slightly, the Lestrange baby was very cute.