Reaching out, wand in hand, he gestured to the solid gold statue marking the entrance to his quarters. The idol, wings spread and beak open, spun and sank as a brick wall descended behind it. Any witch or wizard who’d been summoned but had not yet arrived, was out of time. Placing a hand on his chest in his signature style, Dumbledore slid his wand into one of the many pockets of his elaborate robe.