Seizing The Fight

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Order of the Phoenix POV

The tension in the air was palpable as the members of the Order of the Phoenix gathered in the dining room of the Potter residence. The space, normally filled with warmth and familial comfort, was now a war room, thick with the weight of responsibility and unease. The murmur of voices ebbed and flowed like the tide, carrying with it the underlying fear that came with their mission. They were all seasoned witches and wizards, having faced dangers unimaginable to most, yet today felt different.

At the head of the table, Dumbledore sat quietly, his long fingers steepled under his chin, his sharp blue eyes scanning the room. His presence was magnetic—no one could deny the authority he commanded simply by existing in the same space. Though the chatter buzzed around him, Dumbledore's focus never wavered, as if he were already anticipating the events to unfold.

Suddenly, his voice rang out, cutting through the noise like a knife. "Quiet!"

The room fell silent in an instant, all eyes now firmly on the old wizard. Even Sirius, who had been lounging casually in his chair, straightened at Dumbledore's command. The entire Order waited with bated breath.

"Thank you," Dumbledore continued, his voice calm but weighted. "We've had new information come to light this morning regarding the Mortem Brothers."

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the group, whispers about the infamous brothers circulating once more. For months now, the Mortem Brothers had been the subject of many late-night discussions within the Order. They were young, ruthless, and dangerous. Rumors of their activities were whispered in both the magical and Muggle worlds—vigilantes who targeted dark wizards and creatures but whose methods were anything but clean.

The Ministry wanted them locked away in Azkaban for a laundry list of crimes. Their international smuggling operations alone extended across multiple continents, from Europe to Asia and even into the United States. Although they attacked those aligned with Voldemort, they were no heroes. Vigilantism, after all, was a dangerous line to walk, and the Mortem Brothers seemed to cross it with ease.

Dumbledore raised his hand again, silencing the room. "We have long known of their exploits," he said gravely. "But today, new information changes our perspective. It appears that the brothers are younger than we initially believed."

Arthur Weasley's brow furrowed, his usual joviality replaced with concern. "How young?" he asked, his voice betraying the dread that had crept into the room.

Dumbledore's face darkened as he responded. "Between fifteen and nineteen years old. We were able to confirm this through an age-revealing charm placed on a doorway they passed through. Unfortunately, the brothers are adept at avoiding magical detection, so the spell was not precise enough to give us an exact age."

A wave of shock passed through the Order.

"They're children!" someone exclaimed, the incredulity in their voice mirroring the collective thoughts of the room.

"I don't care how skilled they are—no one that young could take down seasoned Aurors," another voice said.

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, the glint in them hard as steel. "Do not let their youth deceive you. They are highly skilled, both in magic and non-magical combat. They favour Muggle methods, which makes them unpredictable to many of us. Yet they are not lacking in magical prowess. The few traces of dark magic we have found at their crime scenes were enough to show their capability. Do not mistake their restraint for weakness. They are dangerous. Extremely so."

The air grew heavy as the room absorbed the gravity of Dumbledore's words. The idea of teenagers—not much older than Harry, Ron, or Hermione—being capable of such calculated violence shook them. What had twisted these young boys into killers?

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