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MINISTRY october, 1980
"𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗗𝗬, 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟 𝗜𝗦 𝗚𝗢𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗡?" A disturbance at the centre-point of the Ministry building caught her attention when she was working in her office, when she ran out and saw Alastor Moody guiding everybody to positions, alarm bells rang in her mind and she wielded her hand.
Moody grabbed her by the bicep, tugging her away into a less crowded corridor, "cover up, now, there's been an attack."
"An attack—? Merlin, how bad is it?" She asked, pulling out a purple scarf from her purse.
"Pretty terrible, hurry up, Bridget, they'll recognise you," he pointed a stern finger in her face before moving away to the crowded area, trying to get people to safety and shouting orders left and right.
A dark-purple scarf was wrapped around her head, and over her mouth as she shot countless hexes towards Death Eaters in her way. Shadows emerged everywhere, and curses were flying around.
"Are Order members here?" She asked Moody after finding him, fighting side-by-side as they shot spells in rhythm.
"We've got Chasseur, Meadowes and Black on their way, and a lot of other Aurors; this was not a calculated attack, I think we've got the upper hand."
Most casual workers made their way out, and some laid on the ground injured. What the hell was Voldemort thinking—? Attacking the Ministry? Aurors lined up, starting to attack the Death Eaters. Scarlet managed to recognise Yaxley, Rosier and Goyle. Truly, it seemed like the death eaters were losing due to how unbalanced they were. Rosier seemed to be the only skilled duellist.
In the midst of everything, a violent curse hit her back, and she knew a gash of ugly wound would scar her skin once again. It hurt, like a knife piercing through her flesh. She turned around and shot a spell, the attacker fell to the ground. She was bleeding, and paid not attention to it.
