Pierre, The Golden Cloud

Gray April

It was a rainy day in April. Beautiful, but sad. The sky cried with all it's might, and it's roars spooked everyone in the Ancient Runes classroom. I, alone, took this class. Dippet didn't let me help Dumbledore, so I took Ancient Runes with Ravenclaw on my divination period. Professor Bathsheeda Babbling left us to traduce a whole tale from a book. Don't worry, it's 'The Tales of Beedle The Bard'. Everyone's familiar with it, so it helped us traducing it to english. I was midway traducing 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune', my favorite, when Madam Pomfrey entered the classroom. "Excuse me, miss Babbling, may I have a word?" She said as she flexed her index finger. Professor Babbling walked quickly towards Pomfrey. I stared at the scene. Neither seemed to be happy. I saw the way Babbling gasped and placed her hand over her chest, and then to her lips as Pomfrey told her something. All of sudden, Pomfrey turned towards us, and pointed at me. Miss Babbling nodded. She walked away from Pomfrey looking sad. She glanced at me, and then called me. I stood up, and walked to her. "Is everything okay?" I said softly. Her eyes were watery. "Mr. Pierre, would you accompany Madam Pomfrey? She's in need of you." She said with a thick Russian accent. I looked at Pomfrey. Her eyes were tired and sad. I nodded, and followed Pomfrey. "Is everything okay?" I said as we walked down the Hospital Wing's entrance. She looked at me sadly. She presses her lips into a thin line, and opened the door. "Come on dear." She said pushing me softly. When I entered, I saw Albus sitting in front of a bed. He looked at me, and then at the person in bed. Dippet was there too. "Come boy... I'm afraid we have some bad news." Dippet said stretching his hand to me. I walked slowly towards them. The air was cold, and smelled familiar. It's like you could smell a sad melody. When I reached to them, Dippet looked down steadily. When he opened his mouth to talk, tears flew down his wrinkled cheeks. "It pains me to tell you that... Well..." He turned his face towards the bed. I looked at him confused as I turned my face towards the patient. Her blond hair rested on her shoulder. Her skin was pale. Like a sad snowflake. Her chest, nor her eyes, not even her lips moved. "Pierre... Sarah's been killed."