Harry Potter: The Last Heiress of The White Family

August 1981 – The Hawk's Head Inn

The inn was quiet that night. Nestled in the secluded Hawks' village, The Hawk's Head Inn was rarely busy even in daylight—but now, long past twilight, it was nearly deserted. Shadows danced across the worn stone walls, lit only by flickering candles and the dim hearth's glow.

At the center table sat Albus Dumbledore, his silver beard catching the low light, his brow deeply furrowed. His blue eyes, usually twinkling with mirth or mystery, were dark with concern. Before him lay a folded map of Britain, scattered with pins and marks—their last known locations, the fallen, the missing.

The door creaked open.

Boots echoed on the floorboards as figures entered, cloaked and silent. One by one, members of the Order of the Phoenix filed in. Some were veterans—those who had once stood with Dumbledore against Grindelwald decades ago. Age sat heavily on their shoulders. Others were young, faces barely past their school years. Among them were Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lily and James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew.

The atmosphere was solemn as they gathered, no one needing to be told what this meeting was about.

Dumbledore stood slowly. "We have suffered losses," he began, his voice steady but low. "Edgar Bones… his wife… his children. They were attacked last night. None survived."

A hush fell. James Potter's jaw clenched. Lily closed her eyes, her hand tightening around James's.

"And Caradoc Dearborn," Dumbledore continued. "He had been missing for weeks. We found his body near Godric's Hollow."

Gasps rippled through the room. Dumbledore's expression hardened. "We are losing good people. Friends. Brothers and sisters."

Lily leaned forward, her voice trembling. "Professor… what are we to do? Every week the Order grows smaller. They're picking us off."

Dumbledore gave a weary sigh. "I said this when the Order was formed, and I will say it again now: if the burden becomes too much—if you fear for your family—no one will think less of you for stepping back."

"No," James said at once, firm and unyielding. "We fight for the future. For our children. I refuse to let my son grow up in a world ruled by fear."

Lily looked at him with pride and pressed her hand into his. Dumbledore offered a rare smile.

"How is Harry?" he asked gently.

Lily brightened. "He just turned one. His godfather"—she shot a glance at Sirius—"bought him a toy broom. He's flying it around the living room now, bumping into furniture."

James chuckled. "My mum's with him tonight. Watching over him."

"Good," Dumbledore said. "Keep him close. There are dark forces moving faster than we'd hoped. The Ministry's investigations… they're slow. And the Death Eaters are still in the shadows."

The door burst open again. This time, it was Alastor Moody. His wooden leg thudded against the floor with every step, and his magical eye spun in all directions before locking on Dumbledore.

"I've news," he grunted.

Dumbledore straightened. "Go on."

Moody's face was grim. "Fabian and Gideon Prewett. Dead. Ambushed by Dolohov and a squad of masked bastards. Fought like lions, but… too many."

A soft cry came from Alice Longbottom. "No…"

"Molly's received their bodies," Moody added. "She's… she's not taking it well."

Dumbledore's voice was quiet but full of resolve. "We'll visit her. She should not mourn alone."

As the group began to stand, Lily, James, Sirius, and the Longbottoms stayed behind. Dumbledore lingered too.

He turned to Alice and Lily, his tone more private now. "Both your boys were born to those who defied him thrice. Be vigilant. The prophecy looms heavier every day."

Alice nodded. "My mother-in-law is always with Neville. She never leaves his side when Frank and I are out. He's safe."

Dumbledore turned to James. "And you've made Peter your Secret Keeper?"

"Yes," James confirmed. "No one would ever suspect him. Everyone thinks it's Sirius."

Sirius laughed. "Exactly. Let them think that. I'll be on the front lines. Let them come for me—I'll make sure they regret it."

Dumbledore gave Sirius a knowing look. "And your family? Orion? Walburga? Regulus?"

Sirius's smile faded. "My parents are loyal to the Dark Lord's cause, no doubt. My cousin Bellatrix? A fanatical Death Eater if I've ever seen one. Narcissa married into the Malfoys—enough said. Only Andromeda has any sense, but she's estranged. As for Regulus…"

James snorted. "That fool barely graduated. Probably already kissed the Dark Lord's robes."

Dumbledore's expression sobered. "There's little we can do without proof. We must be careful."

He gestured toward the door. "Go. Offer Molly your condolences. I'll join you after I speak with Alastor."

The younger group left. Sirius paused at the door, giving Dumbledore a brief nod before vanishing into the night.

Once alone, Dumbledore turned to Moody. "What's the Ministry saying now?"

"They've authorized lethal force," Moody said. "Avada Kedavra's fair game if it means survival. We're hitting back harder now."

"And the Minister?"

"Millicent Bagnold's trying. She's launched investigations into the old bloodlines—those we know are loyal to Dark lord . But the Malfoys, Yaxleys, Lestranges, and the Blacks… they're refusing cooperation. Even the White and Rosier families are obstructing."

"Of course," Dumbledore muttered. "The families who still believe in blood purity… they're the rot beneath the surface."

"She might ask you to intervene," Moody added. "Montgomery Court is being pressured."

"I'll consider it." Dumbledore folded his arms, gaze distant. "We've no choice but to act."

They headed for the door. But just as Dumbledore reached the threshold, he paused. A strange stillness prickled the air.

"Go ahead, Alastor," he said softly. "I'll follow soon. There's… someone I need to speak to."

Moody looked around, suspicious. "Be vigilant , Dumbledore. Trust no one."

With that, he disappeared into the night.

Dumbledore stood alone in the quiet.

"You know we shouldn't meet here," he said without turning. "Too many eyes."

A voice, young and trembling, answered from the shadows behind him.

"You promised you'd protect her why was she here again?."

Dumbledore turned slowly, his expression unreadable. "And what of him? What is Dark Lord planning now?"

"I don't know," the figure whispered. "But someone from your side is leaking information. There's a spy in the Order."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "I suspected as much. Several missions have been compromised."

"I'm only doing this for her," the voice said desperately. "We had a deal—I pass you information, you keep her safe."

Dumbledore's face softened slightly. "She is safe. For now. I'll do what I can."

There was no reply. The shadows shifted, and the figure disappeared into the night.

Dumbledore stood still a moment longer, then closed his eyes and Apparated away.