Chapter 367: Dumbledore Really Is Gone
The top of the Astronomy Tower. Regulus stood at the edge, robes plastered flat against his body.
Below, most of the castle's lights had gone out. A handful of windows still glowed, probably upper-years grinding through essays, or some professor working late.
He glanced down.
Near the castle's side entrance, several figures crept out in a crouch, hugging the wall for a stretch before breaking into a run across the lawn.
Too far to make out faces, but each had a distinctive silhouette and stride.
The one in front ran like he owned the place. James Potter. The boy managed to make running look arrogant.
Right behind him, loose-limbed and unhurried, hands shoved in his robe pockets. Sirius. He refused to take his hands out even while running.
Behind them, one who already looked exhausted. Heavy footfalls, shoulders sagging. Lupin. Hadn't even transformed yet and already looked like this.
Last, one who ran two steps, looked back, ran two more, looked back again. Head swiveling faster than his legs moved. Peter Pettigrew, like an owl on legs.