The large, circular office was darkened, lit dimly by the light of the moon resting high up in the night's sky. Small noises and little puffs of smoke and steam were being emitted from a few of the peculiar objects that were carefully placed in the different cabinets lining the walls. The loud sound of snoring filled the giant room which seemed to originate from several of the paintings that were hanging on the walls. Among these different noises there was also a small cooing sound which you would not immediately notice if you entered into the room. Quiet, peaceful - it seemed extremely out of place.
The creature, from which the soothing sound originated from, was a large red and golden coloured bird that was resting with its head under its wing, seated upon a large perch which was situated behind the magnificent, oaken door. This bird was not just any ordinary bird, it was a phoenix. They are magical creatures and highly intelligent animals that can carry extremely heavy loads and also possess tears of immense healing powers. Not only that but, once they die, they can be reborn from their ashes. Phoenix's are creatures that have fascinated witches and wizards for centuries and the occupant of this office was no different.
Without any warnings the bird suddenly snapped its head upright and opened its small beady eyes. For a split second the bird looked around the room, narrowing his eyes as though searching for something significant that had had the audacity to disappear. In the next instant, the bird rushed onto his feet and spread out his large, magnificent wings then took off suddenly through the window and into the night as though his life depended on it.
The wind was rushing past his feathery form as he pushed his wings to the limit, trying to urge his body to go faster than was possible. The stars and the sky turned into nothing other than a black blur. Quickly, spotting his quarry, he dove down heading towards the top of the moonlit tower. Yet, it was too late. Looking down at the scene unfolding before him he saw a flash of green light and a body fell to the ground.
A huge sadness filled his body, grief overtaking him. This cannot be happening, he thought to himself. He needed his master, his caregiver, his friend. There was nobody in this world that could compare to his master's magnificence. He had no idea that a sadness this deep could even be felt and, in that moment, it had consumed his entire being. He landed on top of the tower from which his master had just fallen, succumbing to the grief he now felt. The Potter boy was clutching his masters body, tears streaming down his cheeks. A lump filled his throat as his own tears began to fall, wanting above everything to heal his fallen master. Yet, that could never happen. He could not raise the dead.
Soon the grounds were cleared and Fawkes knew what he must do. Taking off in flight he began to sing a beautiful song in memory of his old friend. His wings were spread widely as he gathered the strength to continue one last lap of the castle and its grounds, though the flight he normally would love held no pleasure for him. Upon singing the last note of his lament he knew that it was time.
Albus Dumbledore had left the world forever and so should he.