A cloaked figure walked slowly down a dirt path leading to what looked to be a dingy building. Little to no light could be seen coming out of the windows and, despite the door being ajar, there was almost nothing that could be seen inside. The rickety sign above the door at least let people know the building was a tavern of sorts.

The figure walked in, startling the astonishingly large and frankly hideous barkeep, who didn’t seem to expect customers.

Looking around, the figure noticed the state of disrepair the tavern was in. The windows were so encrusted with grime that little light could permeate through it. Even the sunlight streaming through the open door did little to light up the room. The room was instead illuminated with stubs of candles sitting on the rough wooden tables that helped a little given how cloudy the day was, though it was debatable whether even the sun out in all its glory could light the inside of this tavern. The floor seemed to be a dirt floor at first glance, though as the figure stepped on it, they realized that was just the accumulation of grime over the years and a solid wooden floor was hidden underneath.

“I suppose this will do,” a slightly hoarse whisper escaped from under the figure’s hood. Taking a seat at one of the many empty tables, the figure beckoned to the barkeep.

The barkeep shuffled over to the table, a visible tremble in his step and a shiver running up and down his body.

“Uh... What can I get for you... uh, sir?” The barkeep called out in a quiet, trembling voice.

“A beer.” said the figure, their voice a little more than a whisper, but the barkeep winced as soon as they spoke. “I trust it will be cold.”

The barkeep visibly blanched at that. “I ap-apologize!” he stammered. “We do-don’t have any co-cold beers. “

The figure sighed lightly before waving their hand. “No matter. Bring me some beer in the cleanest mug you have around here.”

The barkeep promptly nodded and shuffled back behind the bar. Watching the trembling back of the man, the figure sighed.

“I didn’t even try to scare this one,” they whispered.

Not even a minute passed before the barkeep returned with a mug of beer, a cloth clutched in his other hand. Clearly he had cleaned the mug, though the rag was so dirty that cleaning anything with it would do more harm than good.

After the barkeep placed the mug in front of the figure, almost spilling it all over the table with how much his hands were trembling, he rushed back behind the counter.

The figure reached out and grabbed the mug and muttered under their breath and took a sip.

“Magic really is useful,” chuckled the figure, placing down the mug of now cold beer.

Minutes and then hours crept along as the figure enjoyed beer after beer, the alcohol having no visible effect on them. Until eventually night fell.

“Looks like it’s a dud. Doesn’t seem like anything will show up.” The figure shook their head and stood up. Leaving a few galleons on the table, the figure made their way out of the tavern, much to the relief of the barkeep.

As the figure took a step outside, a bright light flashed high in the sky, accompanied by a strange cry.

The figure paused and stared up at the sky for a moment before a delighted chuckle escaped their lips.

“Dumbledore, Dumbledore… oh, so predictable!” The figure said, a jubilant spring in their step as they took a step forward. “Just a few rumors of an abandoned newborn phoenix and you send your prized phoenix to investigate.”

The figure chuckled once more before their figure blurred and slowly disappeared, only to reappear in the air, near the source of the bright light.

“You know you won’t find anything here, right?” The figure questioned the bright light, which slowly dimmed and showed the figure of a phoenix.

Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix, turned towards the figure that was now floating in the air. A scrutinizing gaze swept over the figure with a shocking amount of intelligence hidden in its depths. The figure chuckled once more.

“You, of all, should know exactly why there could never be a newborn phoenix, let alone an abandoned one. And yet you just obey that lunatic old man and travel to the middle of nowhere to check,” mocked the figure. “What would the augurs think if they were still here? Though I suppose if they were still here, you wouldn’t be.”

An angry cry echoed through the air as Fawkes glared at the figure, wings flapping harder, ready to shoot forward. The figure shook their head before raising a hand, palm upwards, towards the phoenix.

“I’ll need that essence of yours. So, do me a favor and hand it over peacefully, please?” The figure said, though contrary to their polite phrase, a ball of some sort of energy started accumulating on their outstretched palm.

Fawkes needed no more provocation to understand and immediately shot forward, all the while, several fire balls formed in front of him and shot towards the figure.

The figure raised their other hand and waved it lightly, forming a translucent shield around them that tanked almost every fireball before dissipating.

“Tch,” the figure clicked their tongue before shooting to the side to avoid the rest of the projectiles.

The figure raised their free hand and pointed it at the approaching phoenix. Several arrow-shaped projectiles shot out, aimed accurately at where Fawkes was moving to. Fawkes erected a flame barrier, stopping the figure’s attacks.

This back and forth carried on for several minutes, all the while. The ball of energy kept forming in the figure’s hand. Just as Fawkes blocked one more volley, the figure spoke.

“There we go. This should do it.”

The figure raised the hand with the ball of energy, pointed it at Fawkes and released it. The ball whizzed through the air at speeds that would be hard to follow and within moments; it appeared in front of the phoenix.

Fawkes raised another fire shield, but unfortunately it was too little too late. The ball of energy expanded rapidly, tiny explosions could be heard inside the ball as it grew bigger and bigger. It enveloped the fire shield and Fawkes himself.

The energy ball stayed suspended in the air for half a minute, all the while, explosion after explosion took place inside. Eventually, the ball of energy dissipated and as the energy faded, the figure floated closer.

“I wish you hadn’t made it this difficult,” the figure said, looking at Fawkes, still floating in midair, barely holding on with weak flaps of his wings.

Fawkes, with his body riddled with injuries and barely staying afloat, glared at the figure until, finally, he seemed to lose consciousness and fell out of the sky.

“Finally!” The figure cheered as they flew towards the falling phoenix and just as they reached a hand out to catch the bird, a small fire appeared right above the phoenix’s head, which rapidly increased in size till it covered the entire bird.

“What the…?” The figure exclaimed. Taking their hand back, they had to retreat several feet away and could only watch helplessly as the fire enveloped the phoenix and in a bright flash, the phoenix disappeared.

The figure landed on the ground and stared at the point where Fawkes had disappeared for several minutes. They stood there without moving, but the surrounding air seemed to shift.

“Damn it!” yelled the figure and, along with their anger, the surrounding ground shattered and the air itself seemed to crack. Any rocks or trees near them got blasted far away and one stone even blew a hole in the tavern several miles away, scaring the owner of the tavern out of their wits.

“I’ll definitely get you!” said the figure through grit teeth and after one last glare at the spot Fawkes disappeared, they vanished with a pop.