Chapter Seven
Dumbledore surveyed the wreckage around him. Everything was black. There was nothing left but black. He felt a wave of sadness pass over him as he saw what might be small, blackened bones. "Who could do such a thing?" he muttered to himself, sweeping his greying brown hair out of the rubble.
"Mr, er, Professor Dumbledore, sir?" a young ministry wizard asked nervously. "Did you know the, er, deceased?"
"Yes, I knew her father. Said I would keep an eye on her. When I heard about…" Dumbledore waved his hand over the wreckage.
"Um, sir, any help would be much appreciated." The wizard looked young.
"I don't know who would want to hurt Miss Triffen."
"Well the statue, what's left of it, managed to tell us that a handsome man, with" another wizard came up and began flicking through a notebook, "dark hair, pale skin, and, but this can't be right, red eyes came by. Apparently said he was some kind of Lord."
Dumbledore frowned at this. "A Lord?" he repeated, to himself more than anyone.
"Does that sound familiar to you sir?"
Dumbledore studied the ground. "I suppose we'll never know if anything was taken."
"You suspect thieves?"
"No. Not exactly" Dumbledore frowned "Well gentlemen I really must be going. I have classes to teach."
"Of course sir," the young wizard jumped out of his way as Dumbledore strode off.
The other wizard muttered something and followed.
"You're holding something back?" he said defiantly to Dumbledore's back.
"It may be something, but I have no evidence. Maybe one day it will be something." Dumbledore said turning to face the ministry wizard.
"Sir, Professor Dumbledore. I think this was deliberate murder, which means there's a very dangerous man out there." The wizard looked at Dumbledore determinedly. "And if you know something about that then you must tell me. For the woman and elves that died here if for nothing else."
Dumbledore was quiet for a moment.
"What's your name?" He asked, the wizard's face was familiar, but he could not quite remember the name.
"Moody. Alastor Moody."
Dumbledore nodded, "Not know Mr Moody. Alastor. Soon. Now is a time for mourning."
Alastor Moody nodded solemnly and turned back to the ruins.
Dumbledore walked out into the surrounding fields to disapparate. He felt cold. Felicity Triffen had been powerful, only an extremely powerful wizard could have killed her. Dumbledore knew all wizards who fell into that category, but there was one who might…Dumbledore shook his head, pushing the thought away. Yet he could not suppress the sense of dread that flooded through him as he saw the blackened spot on the horizon.