A Slytherin Story

3. The old man

PREVIOUSLY:

Vernon switched off the television as it was getting late and went to an uneasy sleep.

A FEW HOURS LATER

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's(Minerva) tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen in Privet Drive. He 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. He was busy searching 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 had 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 street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again – the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Deluminator until the only lights left in the whole street were two tiny dots in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him.

 If anyone looked out of their window now, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Deluminator back inside his cloak and set off down the street towards number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat.

"Fancy seeing you here professor McGonagall. Dumbledore said. 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 distinctly ruffled.

 "How did you know it was me?" she asked. "My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly." he said ."You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day, " said Professor McGonagall. "All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." said Dumbledore. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right, " she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no – even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living room window.

 "I heard it. Flocks of owls ... shooting stars ...Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent – I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense." 'You can't blame them,' said Dumbledore gently." we've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years." he continued.

"I know that,"  said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

McGonagall looked sharply at Dumbledore as if expecting him to tell her something, since he didn't she continued "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared, at last, the Muggles found out about us all. Is he gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?" "A what?" "A sherbet lemon. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of." "No, thank you, " said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for sherbet lemons. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone –"