Only This and Nothing More

Professor Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, shutting his eyes against his office. He was hoping to get good news tonight. He hoped he had not been wrong, again. He did not know where he could turn next. After years and years of searching, he felt he had exhausted all possibilities.

The back of his chair creaked as he raised a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, his glasses lying on the gleaming mahogany desk before him. A summer breeze wafted through the open window, fluttering the curtains.

There came a barely audible rustling from the right side of the room, at which Dumbledore's eyes flew open and snapped to one of the many portraits of former headmasters lining the walls. His chair was knocked backwards as he hurriedly stood and rushed to face the portrait.

An elderly man looked out from it, his face unreadable.

"We found her."