Unanswered Questions
The air in the meeting room was tense, thick with the weight of unanswered questions. The long oak table in the center of the room held an assortment of figures, each bearing a mixture of worry, suspicion, and grim determination. The portraits of former headmasters looked on, whispering softly to one another as they observed the gathering.
At the head of the table sat Albus Dumbledore, his hands steepled under his chin, blue eyes lacking their usual twinkle. Beside him was Minerva McGonagall, lips pursed tightly, a deep furrow etched into her brow. To Dumbledore’s left, Severus Snape leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression a perfect blend of irritation and boredom. Further down the table were Molly Weasley, her hands fidgeting anxiously, and Mad-Eye Moody, who sat like a coiled spring, his magical eye swiveling in every direction. A few other Order members, including Kingsley Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley, were present as well.
“We have a missing child,” Dumbledore began, his voice calm but carrying a note of urgency. “A child who, I remind you, carries the blood protection Lily Potter gifted him.”
Molly Weasley gasped audibly, her hand flying to her mouth. “How could this happen, Albus? He was supposed to be safe there!”
“I warned you about those Muggles,” Snape drawled, his dark eyes glittering with disdain. “A family like that would hardly protect the boy if he so much as—”
“That’s enough, Severus,” McGonagall interrupted sharply, her eyes flashing. “Now is not the time to bicker over Harry’s placement. We need to focus on finding him.”
Dumbledore raised a hand to calm the room. “Minerva is correct. However, we must not dismiss the events that led to his disappearance. The attack on the neighboring house—”
“Cannibalism,” Moody growled, cutting in. “Savage, inhuman. This has dark magic written all over it.”
“It might not be magic,” Kingsley countered, his deep voice steady. “The Muggle police found no signs of it, no trace of anything other than brutality. It could be some... beast.”
Dumbledore frowned. “We cannot rule out the possibility of Voldemort’s forces seeking revenge. He has followers scattered across England, many of whom would relish the chance to harm Harry.”
“Then why not attack the Dursleys directly?” McGonagall questioned. “Why this... gruesome display?”
“Perhaps it’s a message,” Snape suggested coldly. “A warning to Potter—and to us.”
Molly shivered. “But why would they take Harry? If this is Voldemort’s doing—”
“I believe,” Dumbledore interrupted, “that this may not be Voldemort himself. But a rogue faction... or something darker still. Harry was the target. That much is certain.”
The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over the group.
“What do the Muggles think?” Arthur asked, his voice hesitant. “Surely they’ve noticed something strange.”
“They’ve no clue,” Moody said with a grim chuckle. “They’re scurrying about like headless chickens, as usual. Petunia Dursley called them, of course. Claimed Harry’s run off. But they’ve no idea what they’re dealing with.”
Arthur looked troubled. “We’ll need to tread carefully, then. If the Muggles get too involved—”
“They won’t,” Dumbledore assured him. “I’ve already taken measures to ensure the Obliviators are ready if necessary. For now, we must focus on finding Harry. Time is of the essence.”
Snape’s lip curled. “And how, exactly, do you propose we do that? The boy could be anywhere. If dark magic is involved, it may be impossible to trace him.”
“I will try to locate him myself,” Dumbledore replied, his tone firm. “But I will need all of you to stay vigilant. Severus, keep your ear to the ground with the Death Eaters. If this is Voldemort’s doing, we need to know.”
Snape inclined his head slightly, though his expression remained unreadable.
“Minerva, coordinate with Hagrid to search the nearby areas. The Forbidden Forest may hold clues we’ve overlooked.”
McGonagall nodded curtly. “And the Order?”
Dumbledore’s gaze swept the room. “All of you, spread out. Check for any signs of unusual activity. If there are whispers of dark magic, beasts, or rogue wizards, I want to know immediately.”
Moody grunted. “And what if it’s a trap? Potter’s disappearance could be bait.”
Dumbledore’s expression darkened. “Then we will spring the trap carefully, Mad-Eye. But Harry is out there, somewhere, and we cannot afford to fail him.”
As the meeting adjourned, Dumbledore remained seated, lost in thought. His mind churned with possibilities, each darker than the last. The cannibalism, the strange attack, Harry’s sudden disappearance—it all pointed to a shadow creeping across the wizarding world, one they might not fully understand until it was too late.
For Harry, wherever he was, the clock was ticking.