Chapter 20
Fiendfyre
Lyra entered her apartment, the weight of the day's events pressing down on her. She felt an overwhelming need to cleanse herself of the day's turmoil, so she headed straight for the shower. As the warm water cascaded over her, she scrubbed away the stress and disgust, replaying the events that had unfolded. It was clear to her that she needed to strengthen the protective wards on her doors and remain ever more vigilant.
Emerging from the shower, Lyra changed into comfortable Muggle attire – a pair of jeans, a loose white shirt, and a light denim jacket. Her stomach rumbled, and she raided the fridge for some leftover pasta from the previous day. With practiced ease, she located her small hipflask, tapped it with her wand to refill its contents, and took a moment to steady herself.
With a twist of her ring, Lyra conjured an elemental fire portal, summoning Tessra Jones. A minute later, Tessra appeared, her concerned gaze fixed on Lyra.
"You look terrible." Tessra remarked sympathetically.
"I had a terrible day..." Lyra sighed, her frustration evident.
"You won't believe it, Tess. Someone actually spat on me today, and I couldn't do a thing about it. If I were back in America, I'd have hexed the bastard in a heartbeat." She went on to recount the troubling events involving Aries Shorthorn and Sarah.
"Your niece does seem to be quite a handful. Serves you right I suppose!" Tessra chuckled at Lyra's exasperation.
She then shifted to a more serious tone.
"There's been discussion within the 27 about the need to bolster America's defenses. You know, Lyra, the coven's primary purpose is to protect and defend our country from dark forces. The resurgence of Voldemort in England is sending alarm bells ringing. We receive reports daily about potential uprisings he's trying to incite in America. It's a slow process, but it's happening. Last time he rose to power, we managed to keep his influence in check, and we intend to do the same now. We've convinced the president to reach out to the British Prime Minister, offering support to root out this darkness. However, as you can see, it's been a fruitless endeavor. Our goal is to keep these malevolent forces out of our system, which is why the 27 have decided to provide support to groups ready to combat this threat across Europe."
"And the president is on board with this? The coven has always stayed clear of politics. Why the change?" Lyra questioned cautiously.
"We don't answer to MACUSA. Their laws don't bind us, Lyra. They haven't for over a century. Often, these so-called presidents are mere puppets seeking validation from their voter base. I'm not saying Reggie is like that; he's proven to be an exceptional leader. There are forces at play to help him convince the Prime Minister, whether sooner or later. But we can't afford to wait for him to see reason." Tessra fixed her with a warning look.
"What do you need me to do?" Lyra inquired.
Tessra's gaze turned grave.
"You will be our source of information and, if possible, an emissary from our side. I need you to gather intel on the Dark Lord's movements. I know he's keeping a low profile, amassing his followers. But if we don't act now and avoid the mistakes of the British Ministry, the world will plunge into dire straits. I won't stand for any American wizards or witches losing their lives because the British were too hesitant to act proactively."
"This won't be easy, Tess." Lyra said considering the proposition as she ran her hand through her open hair.
"I know, Lyra. But when has steering the course of the world towards good ever been easy? The Book of Destiny has laid out this path for you, and it aligns with the pressing need of our time. Your life's journey has been leading you to this moment. None of us can truly control the course of our destiny." Tessra replied knowingly.
Lyra, though understanding the gravity of her role, couldn't help but voice her inner turmoil.
"I don't deny that, Tess. But it seems like everyone else, at least, gets a choice."
"I assume you've already laid the groundwork to provide me with some direction?" Lyra inquired, her fingers deftly conjuring a flame to light her cigarette.
Tessra's eyes bore a serious intensity as she continued.
"In England's last war against Voldemort, a courageous group of witches and wizards stood firmly in opposition. They fought with unwavering determination, Lyra. There are whispers of this group rebuilding their forces. I've will be in touch with their leader and will be extending our support with your involvement in their missions. They go by the name 'The Order of the Phoenix,' and their efforts are being spearheaded by..."
Before Tessra could reveal more, a sudden, urgent pounding on the door jolted them both into action. Lyra swiftly extinguished her half-smoked cigarette, her wand appearing in her hand like second nature.
Tessra concluded with resolve.
"We will continue our conversation soon. Until then..." She bowed her head and gracefully vanished through the fire portal, leaving it to close behind her.
Lyra's gaze remained fixed on the door, her heart pounding with apprehension. The relentless thumping continued, and she raised her wand defensively. She couldn't shake the feeling that the door was on the verge of being blown off its hinges, heralding the arrival of a horde of masked intruders seeking retribution for the events of the afternoon.
Lyra was prepared, her experience and instincts honed for moments like this. However, Burst, had other ideas. She flew towards the door and landed at its base, rubbing her head against it. This unexpected behavior indicated that whoever stood on the other side was known to Burst, possibly even liked by her. And Burst wasn't fond of most people.
Approaching the door cautiously, Lyra noticed the pounding gradually subsiding, as if the person outside had relented. Then came a voice, small and helpless, but one Lyra recognized all too well.
"Lyra...are you there?"
The voice was Sarah's, and it left Lyra stunned. She swiftly lowered the protective wards and swung open the door. Sarah collapsed onto the floor. For a moment, Lyra was disoriented, not sure what had happened. Why was Sarah here? Was she hurt? More worryingly, had she been followed?
Lyra quickly helped Sarah up and into the safety of her apartment, sealing the door behind them with renewed wards. Burst did her best to offer comfort to the distressed girl, while Lyra hurried to fetch a glass of water.
"What happened?" Lyra asked, her concern evident.
"Zeus...he...he..." Sarah's voice trembled through her tears.
"What did he do?" Lyra pressed, her teeth clenched.
"He hates me!" Sarah exclaimed.
"What?" Lyra raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
"He hates me, Lyra!" Sarah cried, her anguish evident.
Sarah went on to share the details of Zeus's reaction when he found out about Aries and Sarah's involvement. Lyra's jaw tightened, and her temples throbbed with frustration. She needed coffee urgently, and she suspected Sarah could use a cup as well. Knowing there was none at home, she considered the risk of her thoughts. But then she reckless pushed them away. Besides, she remembered she had given some of the healers a day off tomorrow to lay low. Lyra grabbed her jacket, wand, hip flask, and other essentials she never ventured without.
"Come on, let's get some fresh air." Lyra suggested, pulling Sarah up by her jacket. The girl complied, following Lyra without question.
As they ventured onto the Muggle street, Lyra questioned her own judgment again. It wasn't the safest time to be out, especially in the park. However, the cart outside, was the only open at this hour, and the only one that sold strong, robust coffee. It was the kind of brew that could jolt your brain awake, especially when mixed with a bit of Fire Whiskey.
Lyra purchased two cups and they settled on an empty bench, one tucked away from prying eyes. She had made sure they weren't followed. She handed a cup to Sarah, who sighed and took a deep sip, her tears subsiding for the moment as she attempted to calm down.
Lyra, not exactly known for her expertise on love, struggled with what to say. Her own love-life had been complicated and tainted with darkness, involving a toxic long-term relationship that ended in a storm of fire, followed by a string of meaningless hook-ups drowned in alcohol and drugs.
"Men can be stupid, Sarah." Lyra finally offered awkwardly, her fingers fidgeting around her cup. She didn't want to delve into this conversation, as it stirred up painful memories.
"But Zeus isn't stupid..." Sarah defended him, her eyes pleading for understanding. Lyra scoffed. Her niece was in love, but she needed to learn that love, came with compromise, pain, and intense suffering too.
"He has every right to be angry with me. I just wish he hadn't said those hurtful things. My dad was right, you know, even though I denied it at first. I did stay in London for Zeus. I wanted to be his support because he has no one else. I just wanted him to find some happiness. Is that so wrong?"
"You're fostering guilt that you shouldn't even have in the first place, Sarah! What you've done for Aries Shorthorn, not many young healers would have the balls to attempt. Not even the senior healers at that hospital were willing to take that risk. Why are you defending Zeus when he's acting like a complete asshole?" Lyra's patience wore thin as she retorted.
"I...I love him, Lyra. It's not so easy to give up on that." Sarah replied, her gaze fixed on her aunt, who avoided eye contact.
"But now, he won't even look at me. And... and...as I find myself falling in love with London too, I don't want to leave, Lyra! Please, don't make me leave!" Sarah pleaded, her crestfallen expression revealing her inner turmoil.
"I won't force you to leave, Sarah. You're old enough to make your own decisions, even if you need guidance from time to time. You've got me for that, kid, now and always." Lyra reassured her.
She then withdrew her arm from around Sarah and retrieved her hip flask, pouring more than half of its contents into her coffee. Sarah rolled her eyes at her aunt's antics. She wished Lyra would take better care of herself instead of using alcohol and cigarettes to numb her emotions.
"Can I stay with you for a few days?" Sarah asked softly as they sipped their coffee. Lyra instantly nodded with a warm smile. She took another gulp and finished her coffee. She now refilled her cup from the flask, with just the firewhiskey.
"Lyra!" Sarah scolded, shaking her head at her aunt's indulgence.
Lyra only raised her eyebrows playfully and smirked.
As they sat in the secluded spot, Sarah noticed dark smoke beginning to form behind Lyra. Panic surged through her, and she pointed her wand behind her aunt.
"Lyra!" She yelled.
Lyra swiftly turned, her wand materializing into her hand through her jacket sleeve. From the dark smoke emerged four men in robes and silver masks.
Lyra positioned herself protectively in front of Sarah, her wand aimed at the ominous figures.
"What do you want?" She demanded, her voice resolute.
"Our request is simple. Come with us quietly. The Dark Lord requires your presence." One of the Death Eaters stated, their wands pointed ominously at Lyra.
"I'll come, but let the girl go!" Lyra sneered defiantly. The Death Eaters responded with scoffs and smirks.
"You are in no position to make any requests, Lyra Marks. The Dark Lord has requested both of you—yourself and your wretched niece!" Snarled another Death Eater.
"I don't answer to blackmail. Perhaps you should ask your Dark Lord to send me a letter instead, considering he's such a fan!" Lyra retorted with biting sarcasm, provoking the men further.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way!" Growled one of them.
"Then perhaps you should have asked nicely to begin with, ass-wipe!" Lyra snapped back. Her wand moved with precision, sending a stunner hurtling toward one of the Death Eaters, who was thrown off his feet.
A duel ignited in the darkened park, a frantic exchange of spells between the four Death Eaters and the two women. Though Lyra had faced multiple adversaries before, these men were exceptionally skilled and coordinated. They posed a formidable challenge. Lyra found herself struggling to defend both herself and Sarah simultaneously. Spells were unleashed in every direction, some hitting their mark, others going astray, but the Death Eaters seemed relentless. Each time one fell, they quickly rose to their feet, as if bolstered by some form of strengthening potion.
After a grueling ten minutes, Lyra had managed to incapacitate two of the Death Eaters, but the other two were unrelenting. They were skilled and relentless in their assault. It became clear that Lyra couldn't continue defending herself and Sarah effectively. Spells filled the air, some landing on Lyra, but many hitting the Death Eaters as well. However, their numbers proved overwhelming.
Inevitably, during the fierce duel, while she fought one Death Eater, the other managed to reach Sarah, his wand pressing against her throat.
Lyra froze, her heart pounded and her body tensed up with fear. Even a spell from the other side was deflected with a simple flick of her wand.
"Yeah, I've got you now, haven't I?! Not so smart, are you, Marks? Put your fucking wand down and walk over to me slowly, bitch!" He sneered menacingly. His battered face bore evidence of the blows Lyra had landed earlier, and the other Death Eater stood beside him, wand aimed limply at Lyra.
Lyra looked at them, her face devoid of emotion. She slowly raised her hands and, with deliberate care, lowered her wand to the ground.
"The fucking cup too!" The Death Eater barked.
Lyra glanced at her hand, then back at the Death Eaters.
"May I finish it first?" She asked, with a hint of sarcasm.
They offered no reply. Taking their silence as consent, Lyra brought the cup to her lips, taking a deep sip that left the strong Fire Whiskey burning in her mouth. She twisted her ring and threw the cup to the ground.
"Now, walk over here, nice and easy! Morris, get the fucking portkey ready, you idiot!" The Death Eater ordered his partner.
Lyra began to walk toward the two Death Eaters, her eyes locked onto Sarah's. She had to make this work. She had never used her Legilimency skills to transmit a message before, and she didn't know the potential side effects of such dark magic. But she had no other options; this was their only way out. She knew what she was about to attempt was risky, but she needed Sarah out of harm's way. As she approached her niece, she focused intensely on their connection.
"Sarah! Listen to me..."
"Lyra...what the hell...how are you in my...in my head!"
"When I blink. RUN!"
Minerva felt an overwhelming tension in the air as they stood outside the address that should have led them to Sarah. However, there was no response when they knocked on the door. Frustration gnawed at them, and they were left wondering where else to search for the missing girl.
Suddenly, Lupin's keen eyes spotted something in the sky, and he urgently pointed upward. They observed a series of lights emanating from a desolate-looking muggle park nearby. Without hesitation, they rushed towards the source, knowing that only magic, specifically wand-work, could produce such brilliant lights.
Upon reaching the park, Kingsley, issued a hushed command for the group to stay put. They couldn't afford to intervene and risk alerting the Death Eaters, who might snatch Sarah away before Lyra could act.
"Kingsley, she's put her wand down! We can't just stand here!" Tonks hissed, her anxiety growing.
"What is she doing?" Remus mumbled in confusion as he watched Lyra finish her coffee.
"No...No...Don't walk up to them!" Minerva whispered urgently, her eyes locked onto the unfolding scene. They all watched in a state of agonizing anticipation, hoping against hope that Lyra wouldn't simply surrender. She was supposed to be a formidable witch, rumored to rival Dumbledore's powers. Why was she giving up so easily?
Unable to bear the suspense any longer, Minerva made a swift decision. She transformed into her animagus form, hoping to catch the Death Eaters off guard. However, what unfolded next left her, as well as her fellow onlookers, utterly flabbergasted. Minerva's shock was a potent mixture of horror, astonishment, and disbelief. The others emerged from their concealed positions, their faces mirroring a profound sense of awe.
"All she did was twist her ring!" Kingsley marveled aloud, his gaze locked on the astounding spectacle unfolding before them.
Lyra moved purposefully towards the Death Eaters, her steps measured and confident. Gentle breeze rustled the trees in the park, creating an eerie contrast to the impending confrontation.
However, she suddenly paused. Lyra stopped dead in her tracks, her gaze fixed solely on her niece. There was a single, prolonged stare, an unspoken communication, and then she blinked.
In that split second, Sarah seized the opportunity. She swiftly kicked one of the Death Eaters in the shin, causing him to release his grip on her. With remarkable agility, she ducked and sprinted away, following Lyra's unspoken command. A brilliant burst of light engulfed the park, forcing Sarah to shield her eyes from the blinding radiance. Her vision struggled against the fiery storm that raged toward her former location.
In that moment, something extraordinary happened. Lyra expelled the alcohol from her mouth, igniting it into a roaring inferno that took the shape of a colossal Phoenix. This blazing bird unfurled its fiery wings menacingly, and the two remaining Death Eaters found themselves overwhelmed by the searing heat. Sarah seized her opportunity and slipped away from the danger zone, snatching up Lyra's wand in the process. However, she soon realized that it wasn't needed. Lyra was commanding the fiendfyre with her bare hands, her very flesh aflame, channeling the Phoenix's destructive power.
The ferocious bird bore down upon the Death Eaters, who fled in panic, desperately attempting to activate the portkey. But Lyra displayed no mercy; her face was etched with ruthless determination. The flaming Phoenix pursued the Death Eaters relentlessly, and the tormenting screams of agony pierced the air as the flames consumed them.
"Lyra...Lyra...stop!" Sarah cried out, horrified by the men's excruciating suffering. Yet, Lyra remained unyielding, her intent clear—to ensure these Death Eaters met a fate far worse than anything the Dark Lord could offer.
Suddenly, the fiery Phoenix descended to the ground, crashing with a cacophonous roar, its embers scattered across the stone walkway of the park and faded into oblivion. Sarah's attention swiftly shifted back to her aunt, who stood motionless, her chest heaving with rapid breaths. A knife, stained crimson with her own blood, dangled from Lyra's hand.
Wide-eyed, Lyra turned to face one of the Death Eaters who had regained consciousness. He wasted no time in disapparating, accompanied by the other three who were barely clinging to life. Their faces conveyed sheer terror even from under their masks, as they vanished from the scene.
Lyra's strength waned, and she collapsed to her knees. Sarah watched in shock, unsure of how to react. Her aunt rummaged in her pocket and placed something in her mouth before her vision blurred, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Panicked and desperate, Sarah checked for a pulse, relief washing over her when she found one. She looked around, hoping that Burst, might sense her master's distress and come to their aid. But the majestic bird was nowhere in sight.
A group of lit wands approached them, and Sarah, gripped her wand with determination, prepared to defend her unconscious aunt.
"Sarah...lower your wand..." Came Minerva's calm and reassuring voice. Recognizing the familiar tone, Sarah slowly lowered her wand, her guard still up but no longer in attack mode. The group quickly moved to gather Lyra into Kingsley's arms, and within moments, they all apparated to the safety of Grimmauld Place.
"What happened?" Snape inquired urgently as Kingsley carefully laid an unconscious Lyra Marks on the bed.
"She was stabbed in the back with this knife!" Sarah replied swiftly, displaying the weapon.
"It's poisoned..." Snape noted as he examined the blade. Hastily, he reached into his satchel and retrieved a bezoar, opening Lyra's mouth. The scent of Fire Whiskey wafted out, and he found a partially dissolved bezoar beneath her tongue.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Lyra Marks had the presence of mind to place a bezoar under her tongue before collapsing, which had likely prevented her from succumbing to the poison. Snape wondered if she had encountered a similar situation before. Not many people carried a bezoar or a Wiggenweld potion with them at all times, as she did. His thoughts wandered to her professional life as an auror and a healer, and he speculated that she might have witnessed far worse scenarios, as the newspapers often exaggerated her heroic exploits.
Swiftly, Snape administered a blood-replenishing potion and a drop of the Draught of Living Death to ensure a painless night's rest for her.
"She's safe. She knew the knife was laced with poison. She's already taken a bezoar." He informed the concerned group.
"I'll tend to her wounds. Ms. Lincolns, I'll need you to assist me. The rest of you may leave." Snape commanded before stepping outside the room.
Everyone except Minerva obeyed his orders. She stood there, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of shock and concern. Sarah began the necessary process, undressing her aunt and treating her stab wound. She skillfully applied a healing salve and used her wand to bandage Lyra's back and chest before magically re-fastening her shirt buttons. Then she called Snape back into the room.
"We will monitor her through the night. I'll start work on those burns on her hands as well..." Snape explained, and Sarah nodded in acknowledgment. Snape took a seat, checking Lyra's pulse, which appeared to have stabilized. He hoped she would wake up feeling better in the morning. As he applied healing salve to her burned hands, he noticed traces of her ring's elements still lingering on her fingers.
Severus glanced at Minerva, who had remained in the room, her eyes moist with unshed tears. He knew of the awkward relationship between her and Lyra, especially since last year, but he hadn't realized the depth of their connection.
"Minerva, why are you crying?" He asked gently, concern in his voice. Her response snapped her out of her emotional trance, and she quickly composed herself.
"I...I'm just exhausted." She replied, brushing off his concern. Snape shook his head, excusing himself to fetch a cup of tea.
"Don't worry, Aunt Minerva. Lyra will be fine. She usually is..." Sarah said with a loving smile, patting Lyra's head.
Downstairs, in an emergency meeting with only a few Order members present, Kingsley, Lupin, Tonks, Dumbledore, Sirius, and Moody discussed the night's events. Snape, who had entered the kitchen, stood on the fringes, listening intently.
"It was like nothing I've ever seen, Albus..." Kingsley began, his voice still trembling from the earlier events. Lupin picked up the narrative.
"When we arrived at the scene, it seemed as though Marks already had things under control. She single-handedly incapacitated two Death Eaters. Her skill and composure were remarkable. But then, one of the Death Eaters grabbed Sarah, and he demanded that Marks put down her wand. The moment she saw Sarah threatened, something shifted in her, Albus. It was as if she had been playing nice until then. In a matter of minutes, she conjured a Fiendfyre Phoenix, which could have killed those two men had she not been stabbed in the back. But that's not the most shocking part, Albus..." Remus trailed off.
"What is it, Remus?" Sirius prompted him.
"She...she spat something out, though I'm not sure what..." Remus mused aloud.
"Fire Whiskey..." Snape interjected from the corner of the room, surprising the group with his knowledge.
"It was on her breath when I was about to administer a bezoar. It seems she was already aware of the poison on the knife and had taken one before arriving here. Otherwise, she would be as good as dead by now." Snape explained, rolling his eyes as if what they had witnessed was not particularly impressive. Tonks, however, added her own revelation.
"She took a large sip of coffee, Remus! She drank from the cup!" Tonks exclaimed with excitement, as though Remus had overlooked a crucial detail.
"You need fuel to start Fiendfyre..." Moody grumbled darkly. He wore an unreadable expression, consumed by an unspoken dread. He understood why Dumbledore was hesitant, but he still believed Dumbledore was being unreasonable.
"But Professor Dumbledore, that's not all..." Tonks continued, and all eyes turned to her.
"She did all of that without her wand!" Tonks concluded. Moody raised an eyebrow at her statement.
The room fell into silence. They had never witnessed such powerful wandless magic before, despite its undeniably dark nature.
"She had the Ring of Fire. It's a magical conduit. I could see traces of sulfur and phosphorus all over her burned hands." Snape added, his tone justified his apathy towards their surprise, as if what they had seen was not particularly unique. After all, as a former Death Eater, he had likely witnessed such powerful dark magic regularly.
"Could you, for once in your life, just shut up, Snivellus?! You're ruining everything!" Sirius snapped at Snape, annoyed by his pessimism.
Moody abruptly rose from his seat, an expression of extreme annoyance etched across his weathered face.
Minerva, looking visibly shaken, entered the kitchen to join the group. Albus's concerned gaze immediately shifted to her. He rose from his chair and crossed the room.
"Minerva, are you alright?" His voice gentle as he inquired.
She appeared on the verge of fainting. As she tried to move away, she stumbled slightly. Albus instinctively gathered her into his arms, steadying her. Their eyes locked, and they stood in there frozen for a few moments. A blush tinged Minerva's cheeks, and in the background, Sirius couldn't help but snigger. Quickly, she extricated herself from Albus's arms.
"I'm fine!" She muttered curtly.
Moody suddenly slammed his hands on the table, jolting everyone in the room. His frustration rising.
"This has gone on long enough, Albus! Tomorrow, when Lyra Marks wakes up, you will either speak to her about joining the Order, or I..." Moody began.
"We are not going over this again, Alastor!" Dumbledore thundered in response.
"You're being a stubborn fool, Albus! After tonight's events, it's clear that she is willing to fight for our cause. The Death Eaters have given her a reason to. She knows they will come for her. We can offer her protection, and no Death Eater will dare approach her if they know she's under your protection!" Moody argued, trying to persuade Dumbledore.
The room fell silent, but then Dumbledore burst into laughter.
"You think, Alastor, after hearing what they said...didn't you hear Severus? She doesn't need our help! Do you think she requires our protection? Lyra Marks is strong enough to protect the lot of us!" Albus chuckled, effectively silencing Moody.
"We don't know much about this woman, Alastor. We can't trust her blindly. We've offered her shelter tonight out of courtesy for Sarah, but she will be gone by tomorrow." Albus declared firmly.
"What's there to know, Dumbledore? She's a member of the 27 Coven. Isn't Tessra Jones herself offering support? Don't you think Marks will be her obvious choice?" Moody snapped, his frustration evident as Dumbledore sighed wearily.
"What do you fear, Albus? There's something clearly bothering you. Spit it out!" Moody added, his impatience evident. Albus grew grave, eager to bring this repetitive conversation to an end.
"I fear, my dear Alastor, that the last man who could produce a Fiendfyre like that took everything from me, everything! And he's rotting in Nurmengard as we speak! So, I fear a similar madness from her!" Dumbledore argued passionately.
"You can't…you can't possibly think she's Grindelwald's…" Alastor said in disbelief.
"Why not? Why not! Grindelwald was wreaking havoc on the world at the time of her birth, so why not? Where else could she have learned such dark magic? You think...you think the 27 teach their members dark magic like that?" Albus snarled in response.
He felt Minerva stiffen behind him but chose to ignore her reaction to his accusation, attributing it to the familial affection he knew she had for the woman.
"Whoever's blood she may have running through her veins, Albus, it's like you always say: Innocent until proven guilty." Said Alastor adamantly.
Albus, looking weary, conceded the argument. He had no more to add, especially since Moody had turned his own words against him.
"Tomorrow...you will give up your stubbornness, Albus. You will provide her with a compelling reason to join the Order, or you and I both know we'll be answering to a very displeased Tessra Jones!" Moody declared as he left the room, muttering under his breath.
"Who's Tessra Jones?" Sirius whispered, prompting Remus to provide more details about the woman and the 27.
"Well, if she exists, why are we struggling to survive?" Sirius asked irritably.
"Why can't they simply bring their forces of good and put an end to all of this?" He continued, shaking his head.
"Because, Sirius, it's not their war. It's ours!" Dumbledore replied darkly. Sirius fell silent.
"And it seems that, for some reason, it will soon be Lyra Marks' as well..." Albus whispered, shaking his head, ending the discussion.
AN/- Thanks for reading. Do let me know what you thought :)