"Albus, aren't you going to say a proper goodbye to the castle?" McGonagall rose, walked around the desk to the door, and pulled it open. A draft from the corridor rushed in, making the hem of her robes flap sharply.
She did not look back. She simply stood there, waiting for Dumbledore to follow.
Dumbledore watched her back for several seconds, then rose and followed. The footsteps of the two old people echoed through the corridor, one steady, the other slightly dragging, like two rivers flowing at different rhythms, running side by side one last time before joining the same twilight.
The spiral staircase leading to the Headmaster's Office was still there. The Waterspout Gargoyle was still there. Dumbledore said, "Cockroach Cluster," and the gargoyle hopped aside, revealing the spiral stairs behind it. McGonagall went up first, with Dumbledore following behind. The office door stood open, and there were no lights inside. Fawkes stood upon his perch, his golden eyes shining in the darkness like two tiny stars that would never go out. When he saw Dumbledore enter, he gave a low cry, like a sigh.
Dumbledore walked to the desk, took a small picture frame wrapped in old cloth from a drawer, and tucked it into an inner pocket of his robes. Then he removed the deep-purple robe covered in stars from the coat stand and draped it over his arm. He did not pack anything else—the books, the silverware, the dusty magical instruments piled in the corner. They remained where they were, as though waiting for a master who would never return.
McGonagall stood in the doorway, watching Dumbledore do these things.
Her eyes reddened again, but this time she held back her tears.
Dumbledore picked up a small leather suitcase containing several changes of clothes and walked