All in Position

The sunset was orange-red, the clouds golden-yellow.

Under the setting sun, one side of the forest canopy was dyed gold and red, while the other was shrouded in shadow. The tops of the umbrella-like crowns marked the boundary between the rosy light and darkness.

At the heart of the woods, a grand funeral was underway.

Fierce light shone on Old Crabbe's weary, numb face. Like the brass busts in a flower bed, it was not the afterglow of sunset but ceaselessly flickering flames. The Snake Tree crackled as though wailing. Thousands upon thousands of fallen leaves were swept into spirals by the currents, igniting themselves into fiery whirlwinds, only to be confined by invisible magic within the Snake Tree's domain. They could do nothing but burn into ash and scatter everywhere.

Deep within the hollow, Vincent Crabbe's empty shell lay curled up, eyes closed. Flames fed by half a tree scorched him and swiftly set him alight. The Snake Scale melted into black liquid, the charred human form twisted in the fire, and the enormous canopy burned.

Firelight mingled with the glow of sunset, staining the sky.

Two figures stood upon a thick branch of a fir tree beyond the outer ring of the vine barrier. Dyed red like the tree itself, their forms were concealed. Only upon closer inspection could one make out an old and a young wizard. The old wizard's hair and beard were white, while the younger one appeared not yet of age, with delicate features as he gazed at the Snake Tree from afar.

During his first year, this Crabbe had once chased him all over the Castle. Loren still remembered that savage, violent appearance clearly. Mr. Crabbe's looks and build had not changed much now, yet there was no trace left of the arrogance