Amelia Bones was dead.
Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was dead.
A glass slipped from Anne's hand and shattered on the stone floor, spilling orange juice everywhere.
She shoved back her chair and jumped to her feet, panic rising in her chest. "Gooka? Where's Diana? Why didn't she come down for breakfast today?"
Gooka, who had just finished vanishing the broken glass, immediately responded to her flustered question. "Mistress did not return home last night…"
"What?" The Daily Prophet in Anne's hand crumpled under her tightening grip.
Stay calm. Anne told herself. Something this serious happened at the Ministry, Diana probably just had to work through the night. She's fine. She must be fine.
Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Gooka, is there any way I can contact her now?"
"If you're truly worried, young mistress, you could use the fireplace in the castle to reach the Ministry's main entrance hall."
"Okay, let's, "
But before Anne could finish her sentence, a swirl of emerald green flames erupted in the kitchen fireplace. Diana stepped out of the flames, her face drawn with exhaustion.
She hadn't even found her footing when Anne rushed over and wrapped her in a tight hug.
Diana smiled faintly and reached up to ruffle Anne's hair. It was rare for Anne to hug her like this, she could count the times on one hand. "What's the matter, sweetheart?"
Anne let go and held up the crumpled newspaper. "I was worried about you, Diana. Didn't the Ministry send out all the Aurors to hunt down the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who? How could the head of an entire department be…?"
Diana let out a long, weary sigh. "The entire Ministry is shaken. But you know as well as I do, if the Dark Lord and his followers were easy to find, they wouldn't be so terrifying."
She glanced at the breakfast table, where Anne had barely touched her food, then back at her. "You haven't eaten? That's not like you…"
Anne gently guided Diana to a seat. Gooka, ever efficient, conjured a fresh breakfast for her.
"It's not too late now," Anne said, sitting down beside her. She had been too shocked by the news that morning to even think about food. She had never expected that a senior official at the Ministry could be targeted like this.
"Have the Dementors been acting up again lately?" Anne asked cautiously. The Daily Prophet hadn't said anything, but she'd seen troubling headlines in The Times and The Telegraph. Muggle London had been experiencing strange incidents, and it had been unseasonably dark and gloomy for nearly ten days. That alone was suspicious.
Diana sighed again. "Yes, their activity has increased. They've been gathering around the outskirts of London, multiplying, and forming a thick mist. And we're already short on manpower, so a group of Aurors had to be reassigned there."
"But Diana, doesn't the Ministry have contingency plans for something like this? Bones was killed in her own home. Doesn't the Ministry provide security for its high-ranking officials?"
"The Ministry itself is well-protected by Aurors, but private residences are another matter. Most wizards don't like having others intruding into their personal space. And if the Dark Lord acted personally this time… well, even a few Aurors might not have been enough."
Anne frowned. If that was true, then her current understanding of Voldemort's power wasn't sufficient, she'd have to adjust her assessment upward. They were in the open; he operated from the shadows.
Sensing Anne's growing concern, Diana changed the subject. "Sweetheart, you're heading to China in a few days, right? How's the preparation going?"
"It's nearly done. I've finished reviewing all the documents, and I've got a solid grasp of the trade situation in India. I feel confident about the tasks ahead," Anne replied. "The reports are already organized and on your desk."
Diana smiled. "You've never let me down."
Grinning, Anne put down her knife and fork, walked around behind Diana, and started massaging her shoulders. "Of course not, just look at whose daughter I am."
After Diana had finished breakfast, Anne insisted she go upstairs to catch up on sleep. Once Diana's bedroom door closed behind her, Anne's relaxed expression faded.
The death of Amelia Bones was a wake-up call. Diana wasn't necessarily safe. They had entered a deeply dangerous period.
But Voldemort wasn't impulsive. During the last battle at the Ministry, many of his top followers had been captured and sent to Azkaban by Dumbledore himself. So why would he risk personally killing Bones? His magical power was immense, but clearly, he wasn't ready for a head-on confrontation with the Ministry, not with Dumbledore still around.
Speaking of Dumbledore, he had mentioned investigating something last time they spoke. What had come of that? What were his plans for dealing with Voldemort now? And how would she factor into those plans?
As Anne was pondering this, Gooka reappeared, holding a letter in both hands. "Young mistress, Momo brought you this letter…"
Momo?
Anne accepted it. The envelope was addressed simply to Anne Roland-Reeve.
"Thanks, Gooka." As he vanished, Anne opened the envelope and unfolded the parchment inside. Neat, flowing English cursive filled the page.
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Dear Anne,
If it's convenient for you, I plan to arrive just outside the Roland Manor at 2 p.m. today. I would be most grateful if you could have a house-elf escort me in, after all, it would be rather impolite to stroll uninvited through an ancient wizarding family's magical estate.
As for the matter we last discussed, I've made some progress. We'll speak more in person.
Yours most sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
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Speaking of the devil, Anne thought.
At exactly 2 p.m., Dumbledore Apparated just outside the magical boundary of the Roland Manor. Anne and Gooka Apparated out to meet him.
A tall, thin man stood beneath a tree, his long silver hair and beard flowing down to his waist. Perched on his hooked nose were his signature half-moon spectacles, and he wore a black traveling cloak and pointed wizard hat. He was standing near a fork in the concrete road. On one side stood a stone boundary marker, engraved with the words: Private Property – Do Not Enter.
"Ah, Anne. Good afternoon," Dumbledore greeted her warmly. "I hope I haven't disturbed your summer holiday."
"You hope," Anne said dryly, shrugging. "But I was mentally prepared for something like this."
Dumbledore's gaze lingered on the stone marker as if it were a rare gem. Then he said casually, "This place is quite fascinating."
"Took you long enough to notice." Anne shot a glance at the marker as well. "Impressive observation, Professor. Alright then, Albus Dumbledore, welcome to the Roland Manor."
As if her words had unlocked a hidden mechanism, the family crest of the Rolands shimmered faintly across the stone.
Dumbledore stepped forward, crossing into the estate's protected territory.
"A true honor," he said, the blue in his eyes twinkling beneath his glasses.
Anne introduced Gooka to Dumbledore, and the three made their way up the path toward the castle. Dumbledore commented on the scenery as though he were merely a guest enjoying a pleasant tour.
Only once they entered Anne's study and the door was shut behind them did the atmosphere change.
"Professor?" Anne asked immediately, her eyes fixed on Dumbledore's hand as he poured himself some tea. The skin was blackened, shriveled, like it had been charred down to the bone.
"I could say it's a long story," Dumbledore replied calmly, lifting the teacup to his lips, "but I think I'll explain after I've had this delightful tea."
Anne frowned but didn't press further. She sat down opposite him and took a sip from her own cup.
Dumbledore glanced around the room. "A magnificent study. I daresay, if I'd had a room like this in my youth, I would've been quite overjoyed."
Anne followed his gaze and nodded. "I love my life here."
His eyes came to rest on the grand piano in the corner. "If I'm not mistaken, that's a piano, correct? Often called the king of instruments. Invented by a clever Italian Muggle, if memory serves?"
Raising her eyebrows in surprise, Anne said, "I thought you only knew everything about the wizarding world, Professor."
"I read Muggle newspapers too," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "And I've attended several symphony concerts. You know, great music can be the most powerful comfort."
Anne chuckled, relaxing into her seat. "True. A good piece of music can turn your whole day around."
"I wonder…" Dumbledore said, eyes fixed on the piano. "Might I have the pleasure of hearing you play?"
Anne didn't refuse. She nodded, stood, and walked over to the piano. "Anything in particular you want to hear?"
"Play whatever you like," he said, pouring himself another cup of tea.
"Alright then…" Anne tilted her head thoughtfully for a moment, then her eyes lit up. She placed her hands on the keys, first note, second note. The melody began light and energetic, but gradually accelerated. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, dancing so fast that it became hard to tell whether she was hitting black keys or white.
When the piece ended, Anne exhaled deeply. It had been a while since she'd played something that fast.
Dumbledore applauded. "Marvelous. Such bold, powerful energy. What's the piece called?"
"Croatian Rhapsody," Anne replied. "Released in 2003 by a pianist from Croatia. It's meant to depict the country's resilience and revival after the devastation of war."
Dumbledore, ever composed, nodded. "That explains it. Still, I felt there was a note of hope in it, rising from the ashes."
"Everyone hears something different in music," Anne said lightly, turning to face him. "Now then, Professor… are you ready to tell me what brings you here? Now, of all times?"
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