1977 - late February - Dumbledore Manor
"Any news regarding the recruitment?" Dumbledore's question broke the silence in the room, his gaze fixed on the surrounding faces. One of the younger Aurors, Kingsley Shacklebolt, nodded his head in response. "Voldemort has made progress with the giants and werewolves. He's also increased the presence of Death Eaters during Hogsmeade weekends."
"I spotted Antonin Dolohov in Hogsmeade during the last school weekend," Gideon added.
As deputy headmistress, the well-being of her students was her priority, and the thought of Death Eaters trying to recruit children under her care made Minerva furious. "He is trying to recruit children?They're not even out of school."
"Unfortunately, yes," Fabian Prewett nodded. Fabian and his twin brother, Gideon, had joined the Auror Department straight out of Hogwarts, training under Alastor Moody. When, roughly seven years ago, Voldemort began increasing his attacks, they didn't waste any time joining Dumbledore as he created the Order of the Phoenix.
"Don't get me wrong, Minerva. I don't like what they are doing either, but it was obvious he wouldn't stop at anything to further his agenda. Getting them to join him while they are still in school allows him to place them anywhere he needs once they graduate."
"We will tighten our surveillance at Hogsmeade during school weekends. Shacklebolt will prepare a new patrol schedule by Friday," Alastor ordered.
"While this will slow their recruiting process, we need to gather more supporters for our cause."
"You stay away from my students as well, Alastor!" Minerva bristled at the newly appointed Head of the Auror Office.
"I'm not suggesting we recruit them directly to the Order. We can recruit students for the Auror Program and attend a few Defence Against the Dark Arts classes in the sixth and seventh years. It will allow us to train them before involving them with the Order," Alastor proposed with a grunt, earning a nod from his fellow Aurors.
Arthur cleared his throat, breaking the tense moment between Minerva and Alastor. "I overheard a conversation today suggesting that the newest employee of the Floo Network Authority, Euphilia Edgecombe, has been in contact with Alecto Carrow. While I cannot confirm that Edgecombe supports Voldemort, it poses an unnecessary risk. With someone on the inside, Voldemort would have access to all fireplaces registered with the Floo Network. I suggest we find another way for us to communicate."
"When did Euphilia contact Alecto?" Albus asked, leaning slightly forward in his chair. Everyone attending that night's meeting of the Order noticed the shift in his demeanour.
"I believe it was three days ago, but I'm not sure," Arthur replied with a hint of confusion. He knew it was unfortunate that the Floo could be compromised, but it didn't pose an immediate threat to any of them. The homes placed under the Fidelius Charm were not at risk, so their Headquarter would be safe for now.
"You'll have to excuse me. Please continue without me," Albus said, grabbing his dark blue cloak from behind his chair.
"Albus! What's wrong?" Minerva demanded, seeing the panic in his eyes.
"There is no time to explain. I will fill you in once I return."
"Albus!" she tried again but was waved off by the current headmaster.
Minerva was about to move closer to Albus, but a sharp crack halted all movement. The blinding white light that followed right after made the Aurors, who had jumped from their seats to protect them against the unknown intruder, shield their eyes instead.
As the light faded, they were met with a sight so horrifying that none of them were able to react to the intruder. All except for Albus. "No!" he yelled, rushing forward, his cloak forgotten behind him on the dark hardwood floor, dropping next to a battered young woman, clutching a slightly older woman tight in her arms. Everything about her looked out of place at the old manor. Glass shards stuck in her hair, and scorch marks covered her torn clothes, creating a stark contrast with the elegant surroundings of the manor.
With her arrival, the manor, usually a place of laughter, held its breath. The usual brightness had been replaced by heavy, suffocating quiet. The usually welcoming scent of the dining room was now drowned out by a metallic smell. Her dark curls were stained with blood, trickling down her neck and mingling with the crimson flow from multiple jagged gashes on her arms and torso. Her trembling hands cradled the lifeless face of the older woman, fingers gently caressing the contours of her face. The older woman's fearful eyes, frozen in a moment of horror, remained wide in her final breaths.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Μαμά. Please, you have to wake up", the young woman cried, her body rocking back and forth. The resemblance between them—sharp jaws, tilted noses—made the scene even more heartbreaking. Some Aurors lowered their wands, their eyes fixed on Albus, crouching just a few feet away from them, as if to not scare her. The worry and fear etched onto his face was something only a few had ever seen on him.
It had been a long time since Albus was in a situation that had rendered him speechless. His senses had been assaulted the second she appeared, and when realising who was sitting on the floor of his dining room, his first instinct was to scream and cry. He had to force his mind out of the shock and into action. He needed to be there for her.
"Καρδούλα μου," he whispered soothingly, the Greek endearment slipping naturally from his lips. His voice brought her attention to her surroundings. Her eyes scanned the room and the faces surrounding her, flickering in and out of focus, before settling on Albus' face. The fear on her face gave way to guilt. Her shoulders shook, a new wave of tears spilling down.
"I don't know what happened. We were eating dinner. It all happened so fast. I tried to help; I tried to protect her. I promise! I tried," she wailed, between hiccups, the grip on her mother's body tightening.
"I'm sure you did all you could," Albus choked, tears filling his eyes. He fought to maintain his composure to help calm her down.
"There were so many. I don't know how they found us. She fought so hard, but then—" Her sobs echoed through the room, the memories of what happened too painful to continue.
"It's okay, Καρδούλα μου. You're safe now," he said, while tentatively reaching out a hand to her.
"I'm sorry, Dad," she whispered, the tensions ebbing away with each passing second; the grip on her mother's body only loosened when she finally lost consciousness.
A murmur rippled through the silence, triggering a flurry of activity as Albus gently pried the lifeless body from her arms. Euphemia and Minerva rushed forward to assess the young woman's injuries.
"Fractured ribs... severe lacerations... Dark spell damage," Euphemia read out the latest information from the diagnostic spell. Minerva had begun healing minor cuts and bruises, but the more severe injuries were beyond their skill. The two experienced witches shared a concerning look.
"We should get her to St. Mungo's," Minerva suggested urgently, pressing a hand to the bloodied forehead before her. "Her fever is growing rapidly."
Euphemia nodded in agreement while tending to a nasty cut along the throat of the girl. "This is beyond my healing skills. We can only patch her up so much. The more serious injuries should be looked at by a professional healer."
The tension in the room grew heavy as Albus stepped back into the room, his face ashen, his steps slow. He had just laid the lifeless body of his daughter's mother in the guest bedroom. It had drained him of whatever strength was left in him.
"No," he said sharply. "No outsiders. We can't risk word getting out."
Minerva and Euphemia both looked up, startled. The evening had unfolded into something neither of them had ever experienced before, and seeing their trusted friend this dishevelled made their hearts churn for him.
"Albus, we can't handle this alone. She needs proper care."
"Do you think I don't know that?" He snapped, then immediately softened, his shoulders slumping. "But we can't risk it."
"What do you suggest we do then?"
"I've asked Fleamont to send word to Poppy. She should be getting here soon."
"Do we know who did this?" Euphemia asked, gently brushing a strand of bloodied hair from the pale face.
"Alastor has taken Kingsley back to the ministry. They are requesting an emergency Portkey to Greece to investigate the scene."
Albus crouched down beside his daughter, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch her cheek. Her skin was clammy, and the sight of her battered face made his heart ache in a way he hadn't felt since his sister's death. "Dad?" she whispered, barely audible as her eyes fluttered open for a moment. "I'm here, Ducky," he murmured, using a nickname from when she was a child. For a fleeting moment, a shadow of a smile tucked at her lips before she slipped back into unconsciousness.
Minerva hesitated, glancing at the hallway where the body of the older woman had been taken. She spoke quietly, almost afraid to ask. "Albus, that woman... Was she-?"
"Irene. Hermione's mother," Albus replied with a broken voice. The reminder of her loss weighed heavy on his chest, his eyes moving away from Minerva, who looked at him and Hermione with pity. The room fell silent again, except for the laboured breaths of his daughter, while they waited for Poppy to arrive.