The Burrow
"Wait, why did he leave?" Ron asked worriedly. "The bloody Death Eaters are here!"
"And Riddle is attacking someone invaluable in the war effort," Morgana replied, readying herself. "Do you not think I can handle this?"
Ron looked uneasy as he drew his own wand, and both Fred and George, and Ginny had already done so.
"They will look to surround us," Morgana explained, "but I have something for them."
"What're we going to do?" Fred asked.
A ghost of a smirk twitched at the corner of Morgana's lips.
"We are going to make sure they regret coming here. I expect help will arrive soon, but until then, we are on our own. Don't worry, just do what you can," she urged, bringing her wand to bear.
A whooshing sound filled the air as the Death Eaters did indeed surround them, and Morgana reacted immediately, encircling herself and the Weasleys with a ring of green flames.
It would serve well enough to block them from view, but those within could see everything on the outside.
With a nod to herself, Morgana closed her eyes to feel the nature of the magic of the very grass beneath their feet. Making it grow much taller in length, she transfigured each blade into a vicious projectile before banishing them through the flames.
Her efforts were rewarded with a few screams from those who failed to react in time, and curses from those who were a little quicker.
Even if they had expected to meet resistance here, there was no possibility they could've been prepared for this.
"Look out!" Ron warned, casting a shield to block a spell that had been hurled towards them.
Seeing that the fire did not prevent them from attacking, the other Death Eaters followed suit, and Morgana had her work cut out for her defending the first onslaught.
Still, she'd not learned nothing from the many years around Harry and his expertise in the art of defensive magic, and using her own strength once more, she used the remaining dirt the grass had been grown in to create an impromptu barrier between them and the attackers.
"GET THEM!" a voice roared.
Morgana could only shake her head as another screamed sounded.
One of the men, a Death Eater, had gotten over jealous and had been pulled into her hungry flames.
"We're still bloody surrounded," Ron gasped.
"We are," Morgana agreed, "but let us see how they feel when they are the ones under attack."
She closed her eyes once more to feel for the flames she'd conjured before manipulating them to do her bidding.
The exclamations of surprise from the D4eath Eaters told her that she had indeed been successful in her attempt, and whilst they were momentarily distracted, she struck once more.
"What is that thing?" Ginny asked as the mound of dirt they had been cocooned within exploded outwards, showering the attackers as they did their utmost to fend off the monstrosity Morgana had created.
"A friend," she answered, watching as the golem of fire swung a searing blade at the Death Eaters.
Still, it would not be enough to fend them all off, and Morgana busied herself once more, anticipating that help would indeed arrive soon enough.
Or so Riddle's followers should hope.
It would be better for the Death Eaters to flee before she truly needed to delve into magic that haunt their very nightmares, if they were to survive what she could unleash upon them.
(Break)
The Dark Lord grinned to himself as he watched the large home closely, listening to the screams and other disturbances from the fights breaking out around him.
Still, his surroundings were none of his concern.
His focus was solely on just when Amelia Bones would no longer be able to avoid attempting to escape the smouldering ruins.
Either that, or she would perish within.
His smiled widened as another portion of the manor collapsed in on itself, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the woman would have to face him along with her niece.
The sound of a cawing bird distracted him only briefly as he continued his vigil, his wand poised and ready to strike Bones down the instant she emerged from the fire and smoke.
Soon enough, the entire property would be engulfed, and the Dark Lord waited eagerly, but patiently for that eventuality.
Waiting would only make the kill all the sweeter, after all.
"My Lord, the men and women at the Burrow are asking for assistance. They have been met with more resistance than expected," Macnair informed him as he approached.
Lord Voldemort frowned irritably.
"The Order?"
Macnair shook his head.
"The woman who was with Potter at the Ministry."
The Dark Lord's nostrils flared.
He'd seen the memories of what the woman had done to some of his followers, and he knew exactly who to send, though only if he was certain…
"And Potter?"
"Not there, my lord."
"Then send Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said with a smirk. "Let us see how she fares against her."
Macnair nodded before vanishing, and Lord Voldemort turned his attention back to the house.
He could feel the approach of impending death, and as ever, it excited him to no end. Death and suffering were the ways of the world, and he would inflict both upon it with unrestrained joy.
(Break)
Albus looked on as Bones Manor burned in the distance, the thick plumes of smoke rising into the air, and with it, the smell of impending death.
He had no doubt that Amelia was within.
She'd sent the distress call to her Aurors, and though they were arriving in drips and drabs, it would do them no good to do so.
Tom had brought enough of his followers to anticipate their sporadic arrivals, and they immediately found themselves engaged in a fight for their lives instead of being able to save the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
Even more troubling so, there seemed to be no sign of Harry, and as he waited for the arrival of the members of the Order of the Phoenix, Albus could only consider the option that he could wait no longer.
He himself had arrived less than a minute ago upon sending word to the others, and yet, it was almost too long.
"An ominous sign," he murmured unhappily as a squawking crow flew overheard.
Releasing a deep breath, he prepared himself for the inevitable confrontation before apparating once more, certain that both the members of the Order would soon follow along with Harry.
(Break)
'There are others at the Burrow. Forget Bones, I will get to her. Help Morgana and the others!'
"Shit!" Sirius cursed.
"Arthur, the children!" Molly pleaded.
Arthur nodded grimly, and without hesitation, the Weasley parents apparated away from Grimmauld Place.
"They will need help," Sirius murmured. "Albus will be with Harry, and that's where the Aurors will go."
"Then we should go to the Burrow," Remus urged.
Sirius nodded.
"We will. Kingsley, Tonks, you go to Bones. We will handle the Burrow."
The two Aurors did as they were bid, and Sirius turned towards Remus.
"It's almost like old times again," he snorted humourlessly.
Remus nodded before the two of them apparated to the Burrow, where they came upon quite the scene unfolding at the rear of the property.
An enormous construct of fire was swinging a sword at a seemingly ever-growing group of Death Eaters, and without hesitation, Remus and Sirius threw themselves into the mix, taking a spot either side of Morgana, who seemed to be conducting the violent symphony of magic.
(Break)
She coughed violently as the smoke continued to fill her lungs.
Already, she'd cast the bubblehead charm half a dozen times over herself and Susan, but the more Amelia did so, the less time it seemed to last.
Worse yet, the more she tried to dispel the flames, the stronger and hotter they grew.
She'd never seen anything like it, and Amelia suspected it was a creation of the Dark Lord himself.
It was certainly something he would take pride in, though his undeniable prowess was the furthest thing from Amelia's mind.
No, she needed to find a way out of here, but she could not leave Susan behind.
The young woman had already succumbed to the smoke and would die if she was not removed from here soon.
Amelia knew she had already waited too long for help to arrive.
Over the crackling of the fire, she could hear the ongoing violence outside of the home, and given who she knew was out there, help would not be coming for them quickly enough, if at all.
Still, she could not bring herself to leave her niece behind.
Susan would undoubtedly die, and even if Amelia was able to survive what was waiting for her outside, it would not be worth it to her.
Susan was all she had left, and she would not give Voldemort the satisfaction of killing her or allowing Amelia to live with the grief that would plague her.
Shaking her head as another of her bubblehead charms failed Amelia Bones sat next to the still form of her niece and stroked her hair.
This was not how she'd envisioned dying, but her life had never truly been what she'd imagined it as a girl.
"You're not giving up, are you?"
Amelia's eyes widened at the sight of Harry Potter standing in the doorway to the basement she and Susan had hidden, and she breathed a sigh of relief, coughing once more as she took in a lungful of smoke.
Potter did not hesitate.
Making his way towards them, he checked on Susan briefly before nodding.
"She's still alive but won't be for much longer unless we get you out of here. Riddle has protections around to prevent us leaving, but I think that is the last thing we need to do. I apologise for what I'm going to do next."
"What do you…?"
Amelia's eyes widened once more as Potter took hold of bother her and Susan.
"Best hold on, Madam Bones," he urged.
She barely had time to brace herself as she felt herself seemingly pulled into a void so tight that she could not even hear her own scream, let alone understand what had just happened.
(Break)
The Dark Lord turned sharply as he felt a familiar presence make itself known, and he scowled at the materialising Dumbledore.
Of course, the old fool would find a way around his protections, and yet, his efforts to do so would be for nothing.
The Dark Lord had already proven his superiority, but if Dumbledore was willing to die only to grant Bones an additional few minutes of living, so be it.
"You should not have come, old man!" he spat.
Dumbledore shook his head tiredly as he drew his wand.
"I think it is perhaps you that should not have come, Tom," he replied. "You see, it is no longer me that you fear, but there is a man we both know you hope does not arrive in time. I'm afraid, however, that your hopes have been for nothing."
The Dark Lord frowned as he felt another disturbance, though this one was much different to that of Dumbledore's.
He felt the very ground beneath his feet tremble, but the shield he managed to cast around himself prevented him from being pelted by the debris of the exploding house nearby.
For the briefest of seconds, he rejoiced in the death of Amelia Bones, only to feel his ire provoked by the sight of a dark blur emerging from the array of splintered wood and molten bricks.
"Potter!" he growled irritably as the mass landed some distance away.
Bones and her niece were with Potter, and the man shared a few words with the woman before stalking towards the Dark Lord.
There was no fear nor caution in his eyes, only a lust for violence that Lord Voldemort had always seen within himself.
Potter wanted this, perhaps more than anything else he'd ever desired in life, and the man had every intention of ensuring they came to blows.
The Dark Lord grinned at the prospect.
This time, he was prepared for Potter.
There would be no sneak attack nor catching him unawares.
No, this would be a fight face to face from the off, and Lord Voldemort relished the opportunity to be rid of what had evidently become his greatest foe.
Still, he had hoped to kill Bones before any interruption, but it seemed that would have to wait for another day.
Amelia Bones was no threat to him, but to his followers, she was a dangerous adversary indeed.
For now, however, the redheaded woman was put to the back of his mind as he shifted all of his focus towards the approaching Potter, who did not hesitate in unleashing a barrage of spells towards him.
It was a rather unsporting move.
There was too much History between the two of them to simply resort to immediate violence, but if that was how Potter wished for his final moments to be, that was on him.
The Dark Lord responded in kind with a barrage of his own, and the air quickly became thick with their respective magicks.
Potter was indeed quick with his spell work.
His wand was a blur as he simultaneously attacked and defended, and it gave the Dark Lord the opportunity to get an understanding of his opponent.
What he realised quickly was that Potter was not like Dumbledore.
He rarely used trickery or diversionary tactics whilst fighting. Instead, he opted to maim and kill in any way at his disposal, much like Lord Voldemort himself.
It was then the Dark Lord knew that he was not merely facing another product of the foolish headmaster, but a hardened man who had fought to be what he was now.
How?
The question of how Potter had developed such prowess was something that would continue to plague him, but in truth, it did not matter so to the Dark Lord.
Soon enough, Potter would die, and any valiant effort he put forth would only become a credit to Lord Voldemort's own excellence when he killed the young man.
Still, that would evidently be no easy feat.
Potter had been trained well, and he wielded his wand expertly, though no more so than the Dark Lord himself, who opted to see just how far Potter had truly come.
"Avada Kedavra!" he cried.
The jet of green light spewed from his wand, and he watched Potter's reaction closely.
Much to his surprise, the young man seemed unfazed by the very spell that had robbed his mother of her life in front of his infant eyes, and he simply stepped out of the path of magic, narrowing his eyes in response.
"You know, I met some very interesting people on my travels," he spoke, his voice quiet, but menacing, with something of a hint of amusement lacing his tone.
Potter even had the gall to lower his wand as they continued to circle one another, both poised and ready for the other to break the momentary lull.
"One of the people I met was your ancestor, Salazar," Potter revealed with a smirk.
The Dark Lord scoffed at the very notion, but he detected no hint of a lie from his foe.
Nonetheless, it wasn't as though such a claim could be believed.
"He thinks you are a complete and utter cunt, just like me," Potter continued in a bid to goad him. "He even asked me to pass a message on to you."
"Is that so?" the Dark Lord asked curiously, humouring the delusional man.
Potter nodded and came to a halt, his wand still resting uneasily at his side.
"You bring shame to the blood of Slytherin, and I denounce your claim to being of my line. You are no son of mine, Tom Riddle."
Were it not for the sudden feeling of discontent he felt tear through every fibre of his being, Lord Voldemort would've laughed heartily at such a weak denouncement, but he could feel the words that Potter spoke, almost as though a part of him was being denied, even to himself.
The young man continued to smirk amusedly, and Lord Voldemort felt his temper flare once more at the temerity of the young man to mock him so recklessly.
"You feel it, don't you," Potter goaded. "You can feel that same shame he feels after I told him all about you. You sicken him, Riddle, and he all but begged me to rip out your guts and end his line."
The Dark Lord's jaw had become so tight that he thought his teeth may crack from the pressure, but instead of imploding in on himself, he unleashed a guttural roar, despite the ongoing sense of unease that had filled him.
Bringing his wand to bear once more, he cast spell after spell that would cause unspeakable pain to any that fell victim to just a single one, intent on ensuring Potter suffered a most violent and horrific death.
Even then, despite the anger powering his magic, the young man proved to be an elusive target, dodging, shielding, and even deflecting the spells sent his way.
Meanwhile, the violence around them seemed to be ebbing away.
The Aurors had arrived with enough force to begin truly fighting back, and without Bellatrix to lead them in his absence, his followers were beginning to wane in their efforts.
Once again, they had failed the task, and once again, it was because of Harry Potter.
The Dark Lord snarled in anger as he signalled the retreat, though he would not do so without a final attempt at killing Potter whilst the man stood so mockingly before him.
"FIENDFYRE!" he intoned with a grin, watching as the fiery chimera spewed from the tip of his wand before he apparated away, vowing that, soon, he would make Potter regret ever returning from wherever he had been these past years.
(Break)
Albus could only look on in horror as the cursed flames tore through the grounds of Bones Manor.
Those who recognised the danger immediately fled as quickly as their legs could carry them, and those that were not so fortunate, found themselves quickly consumed by the rampaging fire.
Fortunately, only few fell victim, but without Tom here to control what he'd summoned, it would run rampant until it was stopped.
Albus raised his wand to do just that, but it was Harry that had reacted first.
He appeared in front of the chimera, blocking its path, and wielding his own wand like a whip, began attempting to tame and subdue it.
Whether he could or not was another matter.
Fiendfyre, though scarcely used, was a dangerous magic to mess with, and equally dangerous, especially when left unchecked.
Harry would have to be of a strong mind and knowledge to achieve such a feat, and as Albus looked on, he could only hope the young man was up to such a monumental task.
Already, he could see it was not so easy.
The chimera fought and fought violently, resisting Harry's efforts to keep it at bay, and just when Albus thought Harry might succeed, the fiery best lunged towards him, causing his breath to hitch in his lungs.
The smell of molten dirt, burnt grass, and even flesh filled the air, and the ground seemed to be bubbling beneath the flames.
Once more, Harry cracked his wand like a whip, repelling the Fiendfyre, and Albus continued to feel lost at what to do.
Should he intervene, it would only potentially distract Harry from the complete concentration he required, but he could not simply sit back and do nothing.
With a nod to himself, he began undoing the protections Tom had erected around the property, so those that remained trapped within were able to escape.
It would not be easy to do so, but given what Harry was currently tending to, it was nowhere near as taxing.
(Break)
Overcoming the Fiendfyre that he had not conjured was proving to be quite the task, but Harry would not yield.
If anything, he was getting the better of the battle of wills, but the fire itself was proving to be stubborn.
Still, it was not able to bypass his magic, and though it continued to fight tooth and nail to overpower him, Harry could finally feel the resolve beginning to wane.
Even so, he could feel the perspirations across his brow from the effort, but Riddle would claim no victory here today.
He may have succeeded in destroying the home of Amelia Bones, but the woman yet lived, something that would irk the man.
Bracing himself for another force of resistance from the fiendfyre, Harry held his ground, pushing back against the flames as they attempted to engulf him once more.
It proved to be something of a final push of defiance, and as it was forced to retreat once again, Harry seized the opportunity to take control of it.
The fire still fought against him, but it was no longer any match for him, and only a few moments later, Harry was able to breathe freely as it finally surrendered to him.
"Bloody hell," he grumbled irritably, his gaze sweeping around the scorched lands belonging to the Bones family.
Most had already, wisely fled, but there were a few Aurors still remaining, and even a few of Voldemort's followers who had either been killed or apprehended during the fracas.
It was Dumbledore who approached Harry, shaking his head and placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Are you well?" he asked worriedly.
Harry nodded and wiped the sweat away.
Well enough," he answered. "Bones?"
"At St Mungo's with Susan. I sent Kingsley with them. He will remain there until they leave."
Harry nodded approvingly.
"This was very sudden."
"It was," Dumbledore agreed with a frown. "According to Severus, Tom was planning an attack for tomorrow. I called the meeting of the Order to discuss that."
"But he decided to attack today, which means he did so impulsively, or he gave Snape the wrong information."
"I fear it is the latter," Albus said tiredly.
"What is his role in all of this?" Harry pressed. "You clearly trust him more than anyone can understand, but you wouldn't do so without a good enough reason."
"I trust Severus with my life, Harry. His secrets are his own, much like yours, but you will meet so few others that are willing to do what he does to see to the end of the Dark Lord."
As ever, the old man's response told him very little, but it was the sincerity in his voice that Harry had listened for.
At the very least, Dumbledore truly trusted Snape, even if Harry didn't, abd for now, that was enough.
Still, he would be speaking with the Potions Master soon enough.
"I must get to the Burrow," Harry declared, readying himself to depart. "Morgana is there, and I expect that is where Sirius and the others are. I think he was going to use the attack there as a distraction."
"I believe you are right, Harry," Albus concurred. "I will gather the members of the Order and meet you at Grimmauld Place. I expect the Ministry will arrive soon enough to join them," he added, nodding towards a group of people taking note and photos.
Spotting Rita Skeeter heading towards him, Harry took his leave of what little remained of the Bones home and returned to where he'd first departed some time ago.
(Break)
The sheer number of Death Eaters that had arrived in the intervening moments had all but made the efforts of the golem null and void. There was enough of them now to combat it, and evidently, a few among Riddle's followers had the knowledge to do so.
As such, Morgana allowed the magic to dissipate and chose instead to pick off the attackers with combinations of spells, defending herself when necessary.
Why they were so determined to burn down the lopsided home of the Weasleys, she didn't know, but they would not succeed, and many would die in the process.
"Watch out," Sirius warned, nudging Morgana aside before blocking an unfamiliar spell that had been heading towards her.
The woman who'd cast it sneered at the man and unleashed another onslaught of magic that Sirius struggled to defend himself against.
"This is between me and her, Cousin Sirius," the woman snarled. "Get out of the way, or you will die."
"Cousin," Morgana murmured, noticing the resemblance between Harry's godfather and the woman seemingly intent on murdering her.
She had seen the woman before when she and Harry had arrived at the Ministry of Magic. The still-healing burns on her face had been caused by Morgana, and evidently, she was looking for revenge.
If she wanted it, she could try, but it would not end well for her.
Nudging Sirius aside this time, Morgana immediately engaged the woman, firing a plethora of spells towards her.
She was taken by surprise by the vigour, but somehow managed to defend herself well enough from the attack.
Morgana acknowledged the defensive skill with a nod before continuing, not allowing the woman to fall into a rhythm that she was comfortable with.
Although she could defend herself suitably, it became quickly clear that she preferred to be the aggressor, something Morgana preferred herself.
Even so, her opponent was not idle in her offense and managed to sneak in a few offerings of her own between the bouts of magic traded between them.
"Crucio!"
Morgana narrowed her eyes as she stepped out of the path of the violently red spell.
She would never be caught out by such a thing, but it certainly provoked her ire.
Snapping her wand upwards, her next offering was a spell that Salazar had taught her, and judging by her opponent's reaction, she was clueless to what had been sent her way.
Instead of risking a shield, she threw herself to the ground as Morgana prepared to truly show her what she was capable of.
Allowing the magic to flow through her, she flared her nostrils in anticipation, and a grin tugged at her lips.
(Break)
"We are managing the damage caused to her lungs from the smoke, but I expect she will make a full recovery. She was lucky, Madam Bones, very lucky indeed."
Amelia nodded appreciatively.
Her own lungs were still burning from the smoke she had breathed in, but Susan was in a much worse state.
Still, she felt herself flooded with relief knowing her niece would pull through and would do so without suffering any ill-effects in the long term.
"I still can't believe that happened," she murmured.
"This is Voldemort," Shacklebolt said simply. "He has his ways of doing things that we can neither comprehend or expect."
Amelia nodded.
She'd lived through the last war, had seen for herself what the man was capable of.
Her own brother had been killed by the Dark Lord, and yet, she'd still not expected such an attack against herself and her niece.
"Why me?" she asked thoughtfully.
"Because you do not fear him, and he cannot afford to have such a person commanding the Ministry forces," Shacklebolt answered.
Amelia snorted humourlessly.
"And Potter?"
"Seems to have a knack for being in the right place at the right time."
Amelia frowned at her subordinate.
"Bullshit, Shacklebolt," she sighed irritably. "There is more to it than that."
"There is, but it is not my place to say. Albus…"
Amelia held up a hand to silence the man, and to prevent his next words inducing a headache.
She'd heard of Albus's group, and though she did not approve of vigilantism, she could not deny they had proven their worth in the Ministry of Magic the night the Dark Lord had revealed himself, and even today. Dumbledore himself had come to her assistance, even if it was Potter who'd rescued her and Susan from the burning remains of their home.
Their home.
They would need to find another now that it had been burned to the ground, along with all they'd owned.
Still, the true valuables resided in Gringotts, but it was still a significant loss to them both.
Amelia had grown up there with her own siblings, and she'd raised Susan from when she'd been only a babe in those same four walls.
She shook her head as she released another deep breath.
"I would speak with Potter when he is available."
"I will ensure the message is passed onto him."
Amelia leaned back in the chair she was occupying and eyed her Auror.
She had no doubt Shacklebolt was somehow involved with Dumbledore's group, and that was something she would get to the bottom of in good time, but for now, there was only one person she wished to discuss.
"What do you know about where he has been?" she questioned.
"Very little, Ma'am," Kingsley answered. "He arrived through the veil in the Department of Mysteries, but he has said about where he has been. He has, however, managed to convince those he was closest to that it is in fact the same boy who vanished from the lake during the Triwizard Tournament."
"So, you believe it is him?"
"I do," Kingsley said sincerely, "and his actions speak for him. He saved us the night he returned, and he saved you today, did he not?"
Amelia nodded.
"He did," she confirmed. "He destroyed the Dark Lord's magic that was keeping us within the home, and even fought him off. I've never seen anyone do it so well, not even Albus."
Kingsley nodded his agreement.
"It makes me wonder what the contents of the prophecy are. It is no secret that's what the Dark Lord retrieved from the department that night, but he didn't get away with it."
"He didn't?"
"No, Potter took it from him, but he has not discussed it with any."
"A prophecy pertaining to Potter and the Dark Lord," Amelia mused aloud. "That is an interesting development, but I doubt he will share it."
"He will not," Kingsley agreed.
"Still, I would speak with him. I owe him a debt I can never pay, but if he is intent on fighting him, I would rather we did so as allies. Speak with him, Kingsley."
"Of course, Madam Bones."
(Break)
Many of the Death Eaters had begun to flee without accomplishing what they had set out to do.
They had not even gotten close to the Burrow itself, and yet, Bellatrix and a handful of others refused to concede defeat, mostly because the woman was locked in a fierce battle with Morgana.
The two of them had been given a wide berth.
Whatever it was Morgana had begun wielding shortly into the fight was something none wished to get close to, and though Bellatrix seemed to be having some success defending herself, any fool could see that it was a matter of time before Morgana broke through.
Sirius had never seen his cousin so frantically defensive in a fight, nor her eyes widen in panic as the magic of her opponent lashed against her hastily conjured shields.
It was quite the sight to behold, and yet, Sirius know it would all be over in a matter of moments.
He and the other members of the Order may have been forced away from the Death Eaters that remained, but as Harry arrived, he did so in a place that he wasn't. Immediately, he set to work, firing curse upon curse towards the invading robed figures, only for them to quickly realise their predicament.
With Bellatrix distracted and no sign of Voldemort, they were facing Harry alone; a position that none seemed to covet.
Just as quickly as the others had, they began to flee, and Sirius's nostrils flared in irritation.
They would live to see another day, after all.
"BELLA! TIME TO LEAVE!" one of the voices roared before he too followed in the wake of those that were gone.
Rodolphus.
Sirius would recognise the voice anywhere, as did the man's wife, who realised that she had been left alone and was surrounded.
She shot a sneer towards Morgana before vanishing in a plume of black smoke, and for several moments, silence reigned.
None spoke, and only the murmured voices of Harry and Morgana were heard as the two came together.
Sirius could only shake his head.
Molly and Arthur had been fortunate.
None of their children had been injured, and the house remained standing.
Still, that did not explain how the Order had no warning about the attack, though Sirius suspected Dumbledore would have answers for them.
Even so, today had been a close call, and as he approached Harry and Morgana, the former gave him a nod of assurance.
He too had been successful in repelling whatever it was the Dark Lord had been attempting, which meant that Amelia Bones somehow yet lived.
"Bloody hell," he sighed.
The war had seemingly only just started and yet, he'd already grown tired of it.
(Break)
"Madam Bones and her niece will make a full recovery, Albus. I will remain with them until I am relieved."
Albus breathed a sigh of relief.
He would send Tonks to relieve Kingsley after he'd spoken with her, but it was Harry he needed to speak with first.
Since they'd discussed Tom and his Horcruxes, the headmaster had been sitting on much information he knew he needed to share, and the time to do so had come.
Once more, only moments prior, the young man had proven that it would be him to lead the charge against the Dark Lord, and though Tom had again been caught short in his efforts, it made him no less dangerous.
With each time the two confronted one another, the Dark Lord would learn and adapt, just as Harry would need to do.
Tom would not make the same mistake twice.
For how he long he pondered all he knew to be the truth pertaining to the two, Albus did not know, but Harry eventually arrived in the kitchen in Grimmauld Place with the Weasley children, and his wife.
"I must speak with Harry," Albus declared. "I would ask that the rest of you inform the members of the Order when they arrive that I will speak with them shortly."
The Weasleys looked towards Harry who nodded before taking his seat and pulling another out for the woman accompanying him.
"We have no secrets," he said firmly.
Albus nodded his understanding.
"What happened today was a very close call," he said tiredly.
"It was," Harry agreed. "I still think Tom attacked the Burrow as a distraction. He perhaps hoped the Weasleys would be home, but I suspect he knew they were not. I'm assuming Snape is giving Riddle information from our side too."
"Only what will not prove to be detrimental. He must play his part, Harry."
"I agree, and today, it worked well for us, but we cannot rely on it moving forward. Riddle either suspects Snape or doesn't trust him enough to share important information with him. His life is in danger either way."
"It is," Albus murmured sadly. "I will speak with Severus on the matter, but for now, there is something else we must discuss."
"The Horcruxes?"
"Yes, the Horcruxes, but many other things, Harry. I fear I have much to share with you, mostly my own theories and thoughts, but some important information along with those."
"Then we will discuss them," Harry assured him, "but first, we must discuss the meeting of the Wizengamot, and my position as Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"So, you are accepting the offer?"
"I am," Harry confirmed, and Albus deflated.
"I am pleased, Harry, truly, I am, but then that means there is another more urgent matter to add to the agenda."
"Another matter?"
"Draco Malfoy."
"Malfoy?" Harry asked with a quirked eyebrow. "What about him?"
"The fact that he has been ordered by Tom to kill me."
Harry was taken aback by the revelation before leaning forward in his chair.
"Then we must find a way to use that to our advantage," he said thoughtfully.