The Thestrals' long black tails swished back and forth, their hooves gently pawing the ground as they tore at the raw meat with greedy bites.
"Let them eat their fill first," Dumbledore said gently. "This is quite a long journey, you see."
"He just had to pick these troublesome and frightful creatures," Snape muttered, arms crossed, leaning against a nearby tree trunk.
"I imagine Tycros must have told you," Dumbledore said, "that a wizard needs to know their Apparition destination very well, to visualize its precise appearance, so it's best to Apparate to places they've already been."
"I know, Professor," Snape replied. "It's just that this method is quite inefficient. Couldn't we use the Floo Network?"
But Dumbledore merely smiled at him, offering no answer.
They waited patiently. Once only clean bones remained on the ground, Dumbledore gave two soft calls.
Two Thestrals slowly approached them.
Snape took a deep breath, reached out, and gripped the mane of the Thestral coming toward him. It took considerable effort to climb onto its silky, smooth back, tucking his legs behind its wings.
The Thestral stood docilely, cooperating with his movements, unmoving save for the puffs of white breath from its nostrils.
"Ready?" Dumbledore asked. Seeing Snape nod, he spoke to the Thestral, "Lancashire, south bank of the River Ribble."
The Thestral remained motionless for a moment longer, then its wings suddenly unfurled outwards, tearing through the air with a grating sound.
Then, the Thestral slowly crouched before surging straight up into the deep violet, star-studded sky.
Snape felt the scenery below him recede at astonishing speed. He had to press himself tightly against the Thestral to avoid sliding off and becoming sustenance for the Forbidden Forest.
Twigs snapped crisply against them as they burst through the treetops, soaring into the starlit night.
"Professor!" Snape squinted in the icy currents, twisting his head to look around, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Can we really not choose another way to travel?"
His voice was torn to shreds by the wind. Dumbledore paid him no mind. The Thestral he rode swiftly overtook Snape's, his pale beard streaming elegantly in the air as he ascended towards the heavens.
This was truly not a pleasant way to travel. It made Snape wonder if he had inadvertently offended the Headmaster, or why else would he endure such hardship?
The Thestrals flew swiftly over forests, villages, and mountains. The howling cold currents sent shivers through Snape, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. But he couldn't spare a hand to cast a Shield Charm on himself, so he could only grit his teeth and endure silently.
As twilight deepened, they flew over scattered lights, bridges, and winding roads.
Finally, in the faint morning light, the Thestrals spread their wings and glided into Morecambe Bay. The boundless sea was tinged a hazy orange-red, and the Thestrals' black wings were bathed in a warm glow from the sunrise.
"Nearly there!" Snape vaguely heard Dumbledore's voice from somewhere behind him.
As the sky brightened, they landed in a lush green pasture along the river valley.
Snape slid clumsily from the Thestral's back.
"Professor, how did you know Bob Ogden had a connection with the Gaunt family?" he asked, pulling out his wand to warm himself with magic.
"Where there's contact, there's a trace," Dumbledore said calmly. "It's quite a coincidence, actually. Some time ago, when I was giving my report to the Wizengamot, I had a chat with Tiberius Ogden.
"When speaking of the stubborn factions in the wizarding world and their inevitable decline, Tiberius inadvertently mentioned that his cousin, Bob Ogden, had once gone on a mission to the Gaunt family's home. That family's glory has since vanished into history."
Dumbledore led Snape along a small path by the river. Not far along, a grove of trees appeared before them.
After a few more dozen steps, an old house, hidden in a small copse by the road, came into view, its walls covered in patchy ivy.
In the garden in front of the old house, a short, stout, bald old man was meticulously pruning flowers with a pair of gardening shears.
Hearing footsteps, he straightened up and lifted his head.
Bob Ogden wore spectacles with particularly thick lenses, which made his eyes appear as two tiny dots.
"Ah, Albus, it's you," he said, his face full of surprise. "I was wondering why Muggles couldn't get close. What brings you here, and who is this?"
"Hello, Bob," Dumbledore said cordially. "Severus Snape, one of my excellent students. Won't you invite us in for a sit? There's a small matter I'd like to inquire about."
"Of course, you're most welcome," Ogden placed his shears aside and used his wand to brush the dirt from his hands. "When you get old, you just enjoy fiddling with these flowers and plants. Come on, let's go inside."
Ogden magically directed the teapot to brew them several cups of hot tea and even brought out a plate of small pastries.
"I wonder if you still remember your time working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Dumbledore said, picking up his teacup and taking a delicate sip.
"Most of it, I suppose," Ogden looked at Dumbledore, confused. "Is there something you wish to know?"
"The Gaunt family," Dumbledore said. "Tiberius mentioned you once went to their home on a mission. Can you tell me what happened then?"
"The Gaunt family... Let me think..." Ogden tilted his head slightly, squinting in thought for a long moment. "That was many years ago, near the village of Little Hangleton... I remember, apart from the girl named Merope being somewhat better, the whole family was a bit... unhinged...
"Who was in their family?" Dumbledore picked up a lemon tart, asking quite casually.
"Old Marvolo, and his two children, Merope and Morfin," Ogden took a large gulp of tea, then frowned and asked, "Albus, you're such a busy man, why are you asking about all this?"
Ogden gently tapped the table with his knuckles, falling into deep thought.
After a few seconds, he murmured under his breath, "Parseltongue... Parseltongue..."
Immediately, Ogden's eyes widened, his body trembling slightly. He looked at Dumbledore with terror, his voice filled with fear and unease. "No... no... get out! I don't know anything!"
Dumbledore waved his wand, and the terror slowly receded from Ogden's face, replaced by a blank, confused expression, his small eyes dull and vacant.
"Ah, always the same," Dumbledore swallowed his lemon tart and sighed. "Many times, I wish everyone wasn't quite so clever."