Call Me Nymphadora: Chapter 15, Disorder of the Phoenix (2) (Patreon)

More than one magical had a fit of accidental magic at McGonagall's proclamation. Nymphadora noted with amusement that it was mostly the old timers who couldn't control themselves.

Chunks were taken out of the furniture and walls as magic exploded around them. Hair and clothing were transformed into a variety of colours. Mundungus even looked like he shat himself and a gout of flame came out of his ass.

The Weasleys stood stock still, disbelief painted all over their faces. Bill was the only Weasley who didn't look ready to pass out, but even he was in shock.

The aurors were all silent and Mad-Eye's magical eye was fixed, staring straight at Minerva. "You might want to run that by us a little more slowly, Minerva," he rumbled. "We haven't heard anything about Albus dying. Word is that he's missing."

Minerva started to pace back and forth, nervously, "I know, I know," she said. "When the wards came under my control, I wasn't sure what to do. Such a thing only happens when the sitting Headmaster loses their life. The timing of it all, mixed with You-Know-Who's return..." she gestured with her hands, uselessly.

"I knew that the second I announced the Hogwarts wards had defaulted to me, our entire world would change. Albus was the only person keeping You-Know-Who and the Ministry in check!" Minerva grew increasingly agitated. Albus had been a fixture in her life since her Hogwarts days. Without him, she wasn't sure what to do.

Without a word, Aberforth Dumbledore stormed from the room, his face set in a frosty grimace. Nobody stopped the old man. Albus's waning star had left a near reverence of the Dumbledore name. Aberforth may not have been the same caliber as his brother, but he was still one of the most respected wizards in their society, purely because of who he was related to.

Mundungus sneaked out on behind Aberforth, though he couldn't avoid a subtle tracking charm that Nymphadora tagged him with. She used her old wand and kept the elder wand hidden away in her moleskin pouch. It wouldn't do for Moody to see Albus's very distinctive and recognizable wand in her possession while they were discussing his death.

Some of the older order members trickled out, but the majority stayed. It was very possible that this meeting would determine their future in this country. Whether they would defend their homes to their last breath or flee to the continent was completely up in the air. They remembered Voldemort's first rise to power and knew that all who stood in his way would be annihilated.

Before the meeting could be derailed by geriatric hysteria, Nymphadora interjected, her smooth voice cutting through the rising tension and fear. "Everybody, shut the fuck up," she said calmly with a smile on her face.

Everyone looked at her in shock, most unable to believe Nymphadora would speak to them that way. Molly and Minerva both gasped. She'd always shown them a decent amount of respect in the past, even after her parents' deaths. The hard glint in her eyes showed that she wasn't messing around.

The aurors were looking at her warily, and they were close enough that they could see her agitated magic sparking along her arms and between her fingers. Some of them fingered their wands, not too sure what to make of their former colleague.

Moody fixed his magic eye on her and examined her every move. He was a paranoid bastard when everything went according to his expectations, much less when confronted with a former trainee with a drastically changed personality.

Once everyone was paying attention, Nymphadora cut to the chase. She didn't want to have to deal with too much of the Order's drama. She needed a few things from them, but she no longer saw herself as their ally.

"How many of you know what you were guarding down in the Department of Mysteries this past year?" she asked, scanning the room. She was not happy with what she saw, but she wasn't surprised. None of them had a fucking clue. Pawns and servants, the lot of them.

These weren't warriors or revolutionaries. They were a collection of misfits and Dumbledore loyalists, mixed with those few who truly wanted to bring the fight to the Dark Lord. She could see that some of them might make for useful allies, but the majority were dead weight.

Not a single person spoke up and Nymphadora shook her head exasperatedly, "We were watching the entrance to the DoM for months and none of you knew a bloody thing!? Unbelievable. We really were Albus's lap dogs weren't we?" she mused.

The older crowd bristled, while Minerva and Molly looked ready to throw down at the insult. They revered the late Headmaster and followed his lead whenever he asked for their support. Anyone mentioning Albus negatively, especially so soon after his death, would earn the ire of both loyal women.

Nymphadora calmed herself and interlocked her fingers under her chin in thought. None of them knew a damn thing, or at least that's what they wanted the rest of them to think.

Nymphadora hadn't been sure what she was going to do about Harry Potter before the meeting, but as she looked around at the sheep of Albus's Order, she knew the perfect play. It would require exposing herself, slightly, and a little bit of acting.

Luckily, she'd been practicing controlling her facial expressions with her metamorph powers in the mirror. She wouldn't give anything away from how she looked or acted. It was time to start the long-con. Moody would be susipicious of her, no doubt, so she needed to be on her A-game from the beginning.

She would turn Harry Potter into the figurehead of the light. The Chosen One whose fate was foretold prior to his birth. Dumbledore wanted to avoid that at all costs. It was possible Dumbledore wanted to provide Harry with an ordinary a life, free from the ramifications of his fate for as long as possible.

It was also possible Dumbledore had other motivations for not disclosing full contents of the prophecy, but Nymphadora didn't really care at this point. The old man's schemes were cut off before they could be implemented, and his closest allies weren't aware of his end goal.

She was going to broadcast the prophecy directly across the Wizarding Wireless Network. She would give Harry and the Order no choice but to rally around their new hero. In the wake of Dumbledore's death, they had very few other choices. Nymphadora didn't regret killing Dumbledore, but his death left her with a whole host of problems and imminent changes.

Nymphadora figured it was best to dive in head first and worry about any further complications later. She was sure everything would work itself out.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

Nymphadora didn't let anyone interrupt her, making sure they all heard the full contents of the prophecy. Most of the room was filled with uncomprehending faces, but a select few, mainly Moody, the aurors, the Hogwarts professors, and Bill Weasley had looks of terrible comprehension on their faces.

Nymphadora had no doubt that the prophecy would leak to the Dark Lord because of her actions today, but truthfully that didn't really matter. The portion of the prophecy that Voldemort already knew made Harry his number one target. Knowing the rest would hardly make a difference. How was the Dark Lord to know what it was he didn't know?

It was best to let all of Magical Britain know about the prophecy, eventually. Hope was a powerful weapon that they could use against the Death Eaters. If they knew that they had a Chosen One to rally behind, Voldemort may not ever take the Ministry. The Death Eaters were outnumbered at least one hundred to one.

Now that the Order knew the contents of the prophecy, they were sure to be Harry's allies in the coming war. There was no Dumbledore to convince Harry to hunt for the horcruxes alone, not that the hunt would be necessary at all in this timeline. Nymphadora was taking care of the Dark Lord's pesky immortality. She wouldn't give anyone else the honour of chipping away at the bastard's soul, piece by piece.

She could almost feel the weight of the diadem in her pouch, and she could definitely feel it trying to take a nibble on her mind, scraping against her occlumency shields. That the dark artifact could do so through the layers of lead, metal, and magic she had encased it with was a testament to just how powerful horcruxes truly were.

"If you want to know more, ask Harry. Dumbledore told him everything, probably more than he told me," Nymphadora lied. She didn't want to deal with any of their questions. Nymphadora basked in their stunned silence for a moment before dramatically making an exit, Dumbledore-style. She knew Moody would get Harry out of that muggle hellhole where he was currently imprisoned. Dumbledore's orders be-damned, if the boy was truly the Savior then Moody would give him as much training as he possibly could.

Once Harry was within her reach, she would have the opportunity to advance her plans. All of this scheming made her feel like Dumbledore 2.0 and she felt an urge to get out of the castle before she became infected by Dumbledore's bald and beardless spirit.

"Dobby!" Nymphadora called. An instant later, the excitable elf popped through Hogwarts' wards and to his Mistress's side. He grabbed her hand and popped away, leaving no trace that they were ever there.