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AUGUST 1944
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A ruined castle. The hiss of a snake. A dark-haired boy wearing glasses.
A myriad of images flashed through her mind without her being able to grasp their meaning. They collided with each others under her closed eyelids, so fast that she barely had time to memorize them.
A horribly familiar male silhouette. A medallion swinging in the void. A bone-white face whose eyes shined like rubies.
She had the impression of being trapped in the heart of the storm and, as a mere spectator, there was nothing she could do. She had to endure, powerless, the violation of her mind. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth.
A cold laugh. Hundreds of screams of horror. A flash of green light, synonymous of death.
Aliena awoke with a start, breathless. Strands of brown hair were falling in front of her eyes and her nightgown was sticking to her skin. She gasped, before realizing that it had all been just a nightmare. She sighed loudly, and ran a hand over her damp face as she heard a succession of distant cracks from outside.
Dawn was just breaking. The young woman moved towards the window, noticing the timid sunlight seeping into her bedroom through the velvet curtains. Outside, four figures in black suits and wizard's robes were walking up the central aisle. She felt a weight compressing her stomach and acid bile rising in the back of her throat. That wasn't good. She knew it. She was waiting for her parent's return - who had left for a diplomatic mission ten days earlier - not for some ministry employees. Something had happened. Something bad.
Another loud crack sounded just behind her.
"Miss ? Ministry employees are here to see you."
Toph - the house-elf of her family - slowly approached, nervously wringing her long bony-fingers.
"Miss ?" she repeated. "Ministry employees are—"
"I heard you the first time Toph," Aliena replied dryly before turning to face her. "Get them settled in the parlour, I'm coming."
The elf disappeared immediately after that and Aliena slipped on a cream bathrobe over her nightgown. She took her time leaving her room and descending the grand staircase, cracking the wooden floor beneath her bare feet as each of her step. She dreaded what was to come, but knew she couldn't escape it. Sooner or later, she'll have to face it. She forced herself to swallow back the nausea that was threatening her.
When she reached the small salon and the four men turned to her, she stopped. The Minister for Magic - Leonard Spencer-Moon - himself stood in her living room, right in front of the heart of the extinguished fireplace.
"Miss Bletchey," he greeted her solemnly - too much solemnly at her taste - almost sadly.
"Something's happened, hasn't it ? Something's happened to my parents."
All the men in the room exchanged embarrassed glances. The Minister for Magic sighed.
"I'm afraid I don't have any good news for you Miss, and believe me that I'm sorry. I would have preferred to come under other circumstances … Perhaps you should sit down," he gestured to the sofa on his left.
"I'd rather stand."
"Allow me to insist."
She finally gave in and sat down on the sofa.
"My parents … Are they … ?"
She didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't need to. The Minister for Magic confirmed her fears.
"I'm sincerely sorry miss."
She knew it. She knew it even before he opened his mouth.
"How … ?" was all she managed to say.
"Grindelwald's supporters attacked them during their visit in Leningrad. Grindelwald himself claimed responsibilities for the attack," he revealed to her. "We suspected he had them in his sight for some time, but we were far from imagining that he would really take actions and strike diplomatic agents. The international magic scene is in turmoil."
The rest of his explanation was nothing but buzzing in her ears. Her parents both worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Her mother, Aleksandra Bletchey - born Petrovna - was a Russian witch who had emigrated there after graduating. She had met her father - Gareth Bletchey - during her training as diplomatic ambassador. Her double nationality was an asset in these troubled times, even if she had always openly taken position against Grindelwald's actions. No doubt that this had something to do with the fact that her maternal family had always mixed with muggle-born members of the Russian aristocracy. They didn't care about the purity of their blood. Blood was just blood and had nothing to do with their magic power.
A heresy in the eyes of the black mage's followers. And a shame for the pure-blood magical community.
"Your parents knew the ricks."
It was the word too much.
She remembered getting up, cutting off the Minister for Magic in the middle of his speech, and going out into the garden through the french window. The grass was cold and damp beneath her feet. Aliena hadn't even taken the time to put on shoes. She had walked without looking back to the river below, then dropped to her knees on the ground. It was only then that she had left released her first tears.
She didn't know how long it had been since she'd left. Ten minutes ? An hour ? Perhaps more ? She was still sitting by the river, knees tucked up against her chest, staring with a blank face at the water. The mist had lifted, making her shivers. Then, she thought hearing footsteps behind her back, but wasn't sure ; it could just as well have been the lapping of the water.
"Miss Bletchey ?"
Aliena stiffened at the familiar voice timbre and turned abruptly. She leapt to her feet and, for a brief moment, wondered what her professor of transfiguration must think of her disheveled appearance. She was outside, wearing only a nightgown and a now-grass-covered bathrobe, while her curls were starting to frizz from the humidity in the air and her eyes were reddened. She sniffed. The next thought that crossed her mind, a much more rational one, was to wonder what he was doing here, in her garden ?
"Professor Dumbledore ? What are ..." she cleared her throat and wiped her cheeks. "What are you doing here ?"
"Professor Dippet asked me to accompany him," he replied simply. "Apparently, major security measures are going to be taken concerning you. Hogwarts is being considered to house you until the new school year starts, but personally, I don't think it's the best option for you. You mustn't be left alone in such a big place, specially at a time like this."
He held out one hand, inviting her to follow him.
"Come on, let's get you inside before you catch cold. Moreover, these matters need to be discussed with you. You are of age, you have your word to say."
They walked up the garden in silence , but Aliena stopped a few yards from the french window.
"Professor. There are rumors that only you can stop him. Grindelwald," the young woman specified.
"That only you can have the power to stop this madness but, for some reason, you refuse to act."
Dumbledore stiffed. She saw a faint gleam in his eyes, but took his silence as an invitation and continued.
"If it's true ... If you can do something, you need to do it. You must stop him before it is too late. Too many people have already died because of his quest for power. It can't go on anymore. If you do nothing, if you let him continue, then … You're no better than him and you indirectly participate in his rise."
She turned to face her professor. He was already staring at her, studying her face carefully.
"If you continue to close your eyes, I won't be the only one to lose my family. There will be many others like me. Orphans. There will be many of us. So please, if you have the power, stop him."
And on these words, she went inside.
Black waves breaking against a cliff.
Hundreds of decomposing bodies on the ground.
A handsome man whose face she couldn't recognize , nor could she remember his name.
Aliena winced and closed her eyes for a moment. She pinched the bridge of her nose and forced herself to take a deep breath. She counted to three before opening her eyes again. She was no longer only assailed by visions in her sleep, but also during the day. Deep down, she knew why. She'd know it since the beginning, but had chosen to ignore it, to forget it. Her hereditary gift of scrying had suddenly awakened to its full potential. Tormenting her mind and weakening her body, as evidenced by the large purplish circles under her eyes.
The irony was that it had chosen the day of her parents' death to appear, and the only person who could have helped her to get better, to tame it, was no more. She missed her mother, a little more every day. Her death had left a gaping hole in her heart that she wasn't sure she'd be able to fill again.
"We'll be back soon Anya, even before you have time to miss us," her mother had said, kissing her on the cheeks before she left.
Aliena fought back the tears that threatened to spill over and glanced at the stack of old newspapers on the coffee table. Her parents' murder had been front-page news for days. She took the first one in her hands. A photo of the wizard couple illustrated the article.
« THE DEADLY ATTACK OF THE BLETCHEY COUPLE CLAIMED BY GRINDELWALD. THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC IN TURMOIL »
The events were described with an almost sordid precision, accompanying by the Minister for Magic's tribute speech. And at the bottom of the page, there was a smaller photo of her, all in black, taken on the day of their funeral with a caption.
« Gareth and Aleksandra - born Petrovna - Bletchey leave behind their only seventeen-years-old daughter, Aliena Bletchey, who will returning to her final year at Hogwarts in September. »
As if that detail would interest anyone. She put down the newspaper and glanced glumly out the window.
The little cottage she'd found refuge in was rather cozy, surprisingly tastefully furnished, and offered a breathtaking view of the sea. It was a beautiful day outside, despite the wind. The sun was shining high in the sky, illuminating the water with soft green and blue nuances. Nothing to do with the dark, raging sea, whose waves were hurling themselves forcefully against the rocks in her dreams. A long shiver ran up her spine.
She had to manage her visions, to control or even annihilate them, but that wasn't easy to do while she was under the protection of several aurors. She was hardly ever alone, even at night ; they all slept in the same room. What a little privacy she had, she owed to a screen that hid her bed. It was only in the bathroom she could hope to be alone, but never for too long. If she stayed in there for more than ten minutes without giving any sign of life, worried knocks will rang out against the wooden door, threatening to knock it off its hinges.
She sighed, resigned. For the moment, there was nothing she could do. She didn't even have the necessary ingredients for the ritual. She had wanted to send a note to Toph, but had quickly abandoned the idea. She couldn't receive mail, no one was to know where she was for her own safety. And if she sent even one letter, she was sure it would be read. She couldn't take such a risk. She should take it on herself, grit her teeth and endure this ordeal until school started. She could do it. Two more weeks, she thought. Just two more weeks.
Black waves breaking against a cliff.
Hundreds of decomposing bodies on the ground.
A handsome man whose face she couldn't recognize , nor could she remember his name.
She flinched, letting out a groan, while taking her head inside her hands.
"Are you alright miss ?"
"I'm fine," Aliena replied curtly, holding up a hand to stop one of the aurors getting any closer.
"You don't seem so."
"I know sir, thank you," she snapped back.
She didn't even know their names. Sometimes, she wondered whether she was a victim or a prisoner.
She saw blurry and spots of color danced in front of her field of vision. She took it upon herself, managed to overcome the feeling of unease that made her limbs trembled and then, blinked slowly.
"I just need some rest. I'll be alright … Everything will be alright."
An invisible grip tightened her throat and a violent headache threatened to shatter her skull into a thousand pieces, as if her body knew before she did that it wasn't true.
All would not go well.
This was the beginning of her downfall, but she didn't know it yet.