Snape's Visitor

A few minutes earlier, many miles from the Magical Research Association.

The mist that had once drifted outside the Prime Minister's window now floated above a filthy river.

The river twisted and wound, its banks overgrown with weeds and piled with rubbish.

A huge chimney, a relic left behind by an abandoned mill, loomed high above, grim and ominous.

There was no sound anywhere, except for the black river water whimpering. There was no sign of life either, except for a lean fox slipping furtively down the bank, hopefully sniffing at the wrappers of fish and chips deep in the weeds.

Then, with a soft pop, a tall, hooded figure appeared out of nowhere by the river.

The fox froze, its alert eyes fixed on the strange new figure.

The figure seemed to be getting its bearings. After a moment, it set off in long, brisk strides, its long cloak swishing over the grass.

Another pop sounded, louder than the first, and another hooded figure materialized.

"Wait!"

The fox was practically flattened beneath the low bushes now. Hearing that hoarse cry, it was even more terrified.

It shot out of its hiding place and ran up the bank.

A flash of green light, a shriek, and the fox collapsed to the ground, dead.

"Only a fox," said a woman's disdainful voice from beneath the hood. "I thought it was an Auror—Cissy, wait!"

But the person she was chasing had merely paused to look at the flash. Now she was climbing up the bank where the fox had fallen.

"Cissy—Narcissa—listen to me—"

The second woman caught up with the first and seized her arm, but she shook her off.

"Go back, Bella!"

"You have to listen to me!"

"I've heard enough already. My mind is made up, so stay out of