"What a novel experience."
"Indeed. I never imagined we'd be visiting Hogwarts in the middle of the night after we retired..."
"Mad-Eye, we don't need to keep this operation secret, do we?"
In an open space near Hogsmeade, three gray-haired old men, each missing a few bits and pieces, chatted cheerfully. They looked as relaxed as if this were an ordinary meeting.
"I'm not entirely sure," Moody said, looking at the speaker with his good eye while his Magical Eye surveyed the terrain. "But one thing's certain: this is a big job."
"All the better. Though at this hour, I'm afraid it's another job we won't be able to talk about. Isn't he here yet? Any later and we might miss our chance to act."
"Soon."
Moody looked untroubled. Dumbledore could be trusted.
In fact, Dumbledore appeared less than five minutes later.
"I hope I'm not late. Honestly, waking the Thestrals in the middle of the night was no pleasure. Hagrid had quite a time calming them down."
++++
"No, no..."
Quirrell woke with a start once again...
He couldn't remember the details of the dream. All he remembered was Snape holding him firmly at wandpoint, followed by a flash of green light.
"Get off me, you fool..."
At the rasping voice, Quirrell shrank in on himself. In his fright, he had rolled over and pressed against that dreadful...
"Master..."
He turned his head cautiously. For a long time now, he had slept on his stomach or his side. Lying on his back had never been an option.
"You fool. On your stomach... I need enough rest."
"Yes—ah!"
Bang!!!
A tremendous explosion came from the door, followed by several spells that tore through the darkness. Whoever had cast them clearly knew the room's layout: every spell swept toward the bed.