When Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts, dawn was nearly breaking.
He did not use the front entrance or any of the familiar passages. Instead, he emerged directly from the fireplace in the Headmaster's office via Floo Powder. Green flames swallowed his figure, then spat him out from the fireplace on this side, stirring a faint, sigh-like breeze. "I need to raise the stakes for Tom."
Dumbledore stood before the desk piled high with silver instruments and ancient books, silver Floo Powder still clinging to his robes and glimmering faintly in the morning light. Fawkes stood on the golden perch by the door, his golden feathers glowing warmly in the dying embers of the fireplace.
He tilted his head, his black eyes fixed on Dumbledore.
Then he let out a clear cry, bright as a silver bell. It was not loud, yet it echoed through the quiet Headmaster's office, carrying an indescribably warm and peaceful strength. "Nothing happened."
Dumbledore looked at him, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly into a faint, weary smile.
"I'm back,"
he said softly, his voice hoarse but calm.
Fawkes cried out again, then spread his wings, flew from the perch, and landed on Dumbledore's shoulder. He gently rubbed his head against Dumbledore's cheek. The gesture was light and tender, carrying the closeness of old friends reunited. Dumbledore raised a hand and softly stroked his feathers. "All right, all right, no need to be so clingy," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'm fine. I'm just a little tired right now." Fawkes did not leave. He merely continued rubbing against his cheek, making low, cooing sounds.
Outside the window, the sky gradually brightened. Hogwarts' towers emerged in the morning light, their ancient stone walls dyed a warm, gentle gold. The lake shimmered with