Death Is Another Great Adventure

When Gavin said he wanted to follow Professor McGonagall's example, Dumbledore hurried to stop him.

"I wouldn't advise that."

He drew a feather from his sleeve.

It was longer than any phoenix feather Gavin had ever seen. Its shaft gleamed pale gold, and in the flickering candlelight of the Headmaster's Office, its vanes shaded from gold to red.

As Dumbledore held it out, Fawkes gave a low, inscrutable call from his perch.

Gavin took the feather. The moment his fingertips touched the shaft, he felt a faint warmth, as though he had picked it up from a stone left in the sun.

"Crush it, and I'll receive your message," Dumbledore said. "Wherever I am."

"Wherever you are?"

"It's faster than any other method, though it may take me a little time to return." Dumbledore nodded. "Minerva couldn't reach me last night. I'd left in such a hurry that I hadn't given her any way to contact me."

"That was my mistake. It won't happen again."

Gavin rubbed the phoenix feather between his fingers, then carefully tucked it into one of the Undetectable Extension Charm bags inside his Dragon Hide Bag, keeping it separate from everything else.

Lately, he had been reluctant to mix his belongings together.

After learning that the Diary's disappearance might have had something to do with the Flame Crest, he had drawn up rules for organizing his Dragon Hide Bag.

He had acquired two Undetectable Extension Charm bags from the fake Lockhart.

He had just fastened the bag when he looked up and saw Dumbledore draw another wand from his sleeve—

It was longer than an ordinary wand. Gavin had seen it before, on the coast of Wales.

His gaze lingered on it for less than half a second before he looked away as though nothing had