Inside the warded circle, I examine his Christmas presents before the school wakes. They are not trapped.

The children leave for parents, homes. He remains; so must I.

He is using that blasted cloak, Albus!

Tracking is not impossible, no.

I am a shadow of the fifth floor corridor. He is inside -- with Erised.

What does adored, famous Potter see?

Nearly dawn. My wand flicks -- Crack! He stumbles away with red eyes. I hurry to Albus, who gently offers sweets and riddles.

He returns with Weasley. Albus chuckles, pours tea.

The next night, Albus enters. I wait outside, another shadow.