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Chapter 35: Shadows Over Hogsmeade
The night of the full moon cast an eerie glow over Hogsmeade, its cobblestone streets bathed in silvery light. Amelia Bones, a young Auror with just a few years in the department, made her way down the quiet lanes, her eyes keenly observing every shadow. Despite the tranquility, her instincts remained sharp, a testament to her training and the dangers she had already faced in her short career.
Amelia had just finished her patrol of the village, her mind replaying the mundane nature of her assignment. Hogsmeade was considered one of the safest places, especially with the looming presence of Hogwarts nearby. Yet, here she was, a rookie, tasked with guarding what seemed to be the least likely target. She sighed, the weight of her thoughts pressing down as she pushed open the door to the Hog's Head Inn.
The warm, dimly lit interior of the inn welcomed her, the familiar scent of wood and ale a small comfort. She approached the bar, nodding at Aberforth Dumbledore, the gruff but dependable barkeep. "Firewhisky, please," she requested, sliding onto a stool. Aberforth poured her drink, his gaze appraising.
"Rough night?" he asked, setting the glass in front of her.
Amelia took a sip, savoring the burn. "More like a dull one," she replied. "Assigned to Hogsmeade. Safe, quiet Hogsmeade. Makes you wonder why they bother sending an Auror at all."
Aberforth leaned on the counter, his expression unreadable. "You're still a rookie. They probably think you need the experience."
"Experience in boredom," Amelia muttered, swirling her drink. "What's the Order up to these days?" she asked, her voice low, a precaution against eavesdroppers. She was one of the few in the Ministry privy to Albus Dumbledore's secretive Order of the Phoenix, dedicated to fighting the dark forces threatening their world.
Aberforth's eyes flickered with a knowing light. "Not much," he said. "Seems like someone else is fighting the war for us."
Amelia frowned, understanding his reference. The mysterious young wizard who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, disrupting the plans of Voldemort and his followers. He had become a legend in his own right, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.
Before she could respond, her gaze drifted to a corner of the inn where a lone figure sat, half-hidden in the shadows. A young man, perhaps her age, with a calm, composed demeanor that seemed at odds with the chaotic times they lived in. His emerald eyes caught the light, their intensity drawing her in.
"Who's that?" she asked Aberforth, nodding toward the stranger.
Aberforth shook his head. "No idea. He came in a while ago, hasn't caused any trouble."
Curiosity piqued, Amelia rose from her seat, her steps measured as she approached the young man. "Mind if I join you?" she asked, her tone polite but firm.
The man looked up, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Not at all."
She slid into the seat across from him, studying his features. There was something familiar about him, though she couldn't place it. "I'm Amelia," she introduced herself, extending a hand.
"Harry," he replied, shaking her hand. His grip was firm, his gaze unwavering.
"So, Harry, what brings you to Hogsmeade?" she inquired, leaning back slightly.
"Just passing through," he said nonchalantly, taking a sip from his mug.
Amelia noted his guarded response but didn't press. Instead, she found herself talking about her own life, something she hadn't intended. There was an ease to the conversation, a sense of understanding that she hadn't expected. She told him about her parents, how they were killed by Death Eaters, and how that tragedy had changed her path. She had initially planned to join a different department in the Ministry but had instead become an Auror, determined to fight against the dark forces that had taken so much from her.
Harry listened intently, his expression thoughtful. "It takes a lot of strength to turn pain into purpose," he said quietly.
Amelia felt a warmth in his words, a connection that made her feel less alone in her struggles. "What about you?" she asked, curious. "What's your story?"
Before Harry could respond, a chilling howl pierced the night, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. Both she and Harry were on their feet in an instant, wands drawn, the atmosphere in the inn shifting from calm to tense.
"Werewolves," Amelia whispered, her eyes scanning the windows.
Harry nodded, his expression serious. "They're coming."
The two of them moved swiftly toward the door, their footsteps echoing in the sudden quiet of the inn. Outside, the village of Hogsmeade was bathed in the pale light of the full moon, the howls growing closer, more menacing.
Amelia's heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline surging through her veins. She had faced dangers before, but the presence of Harry beside her brought a strange mix of confidence and curiosity. Whoever this young man was, she sensed he was no ordinary wizard.
"Stay close," Harry said, his voice calm but commanding. "We'll protect the village together."
Amelia nodded, her grip tightening on her wand. As the shadows of the werewolves loomed closer, she steeled herself for the battle ahead, the image of her parents in her mind, their memory fueling her resolve.
The night was far from over, and in the face of the looming threat, Amelia knew she wasn't alone. With Harry by her side, she was ready to defend Hogsmeade from whatever darkness came their way.