The night was as thick as ink, and all was silent. Even the wind had hushed itself.
On Privet Drive, several dim streetlights stubbornly remained lit. Their light barely pierced the darkness, yet could not illuminate the shadows swallowing the houses on either side.
Now and then, strange rustling sounds made by some unknown animal drifted from the darkness, making the night even more eerie.
Pop—rustle—
A crisp sound like a finger snap suddenly shattered the silence. Immediately afterward, the soft swish of clothing came from the end of the road.
The newcomer was Professor Dumbledore. His silver-threaded hair and beard stirred gently in the night breeze, and an indescribable solemnity surrounded him.
When he reached a streetlamp, the nearly hundred-year-old man raised a hand to adjust the half-moon spectacles on his nose, then slowly looked up at the light.
A moment later, a few glistening tears had quietly gathered at the corners of his eyes.
"Oh... no... this light is too dazzling. What if a Muggle... oh, no, an ordinary person sees it..."
Without wiping them away, he let his murmurs drift into the wind. Dumbledore pulled a palm-sized device resembling a lighter from his robes. His aged thumb pressed the switch on top, and the dim light overhead seemed drawn by an invisible force, curling obediently into the device.
It had not been used for years. Apparently, it was not broken.
The old man nodded in satisfaction and raised the Deluminator over his head with his withered arm.
In an instant, centered on him, every nearby source of light seemed pulled by an invisible vortex, rushing toward the Deluminator in his palm. Within only a few breaths, sheltered by the heavy clouds, the entire Privet Drive had sunk into pitch-black darkness.
"Ah—oh!—"
In the darkness, Dumbledore nearly stumbled