A Tale of Two Brothers

Chapter 4

The Daily Prophet reported that a huge fire had started in the village and had killed every villager living there. It was written that the fire was so bad that even a single body could not be found, just their ashes.

It was not reported that it were the Order and Resistance members that had collected what was left of the villagers' bodies and cremated them, as a sign of respect. They knew that if left behind, Voldemort's werewolves and other dark creatures would come there for food.

The Prophet had called the village as 'Village No. 18' since there was no name given to it in any official documents, but James had seen a board with the name 'Hythe' burning at the edge of the village surrounded by a flower bed.

Everytime he let his mind wander, he saw the village burning. The people tortured. Their pets strangled. The children cut. The babies torn open. He saw his own son do all those atrocious acts without an ounce of emotion on his face.

Everybody was shaken after witnessing it. It had been weeks, but somebody still flinched when they heard loud screaming. Remus seemed more hateful of his condition. Sirius turned vicious whenever he heard anything related to the attack. Molly's fussing over her children increased tenfold. Arthur did not let any of his children out of Hogwarts, even for Order duties, if he or Molly weren't there. Hermione turned pale every time she saw a little kid anywhere. Minerva's face hadn't changed from the closed-off expression for weeks.

The Resistance members turned downright violent whenever they saw Regulus in Hogwarts.

"There were no more attacks in the past weeks. Even no prisoners were taken except by the Dark Lord himself. He obviously has figured out the reasons behind our attacks. Our spy said that his temper has been worse than ever." Regulus said. He twirled the wand in his hand, applying a warming charm on the tea lying in front of him.

James still did not want to touch the damn thing.

"Good. Good. What else does your spy say?"

Regulus was the only one who knew of the spy within Voldemort's Inner Circle. Dumbledore had entrusted only him with that information. No matter how much the Order tried to get that information out of him, Regulus refused to say anything. It was a good thing though. James knew how bad Regulus was treated by the people they worked with, and this was the only leverage he had against them. Oftentimes, James wanted to punch those people right in their faces. But it would make Moody angry, and James hated to deal with that man in such a mood. So the Marauders got their revenge on those bigots in their own way. Pranking was an art only a few of them excelled in. Luckily, his entire family was skilled in it.

The thought made him a bit cheerful, but it was washed away with Regulus' next words.

"The same. The ICW will fold if we don't act soon. Voldemort's influence is growing. Deimos' influence is growing." That name was always uttered with a controlled indifference but outright hate by Regulus. He had been very close to Harry when he was young, still innocent. Not a monster. Maybe he blamed himself too for how he turned out to be.

"That ward was just an experimental thing. After our stunt with the horcruxes, they had been working non-stop on it. Now, every Death Eater's house, their bases, their vaults, everything will be covered behind a more perfected version of them."

"Hmm." He did not know what to say. He could not think straight. Everything was just too much.

"James." He looked up at Regulus, who was looking at him with concern. "I know this is a lot for you. Moody and Shacklebolt have locked themselves in that damn strategy room. I doubt they even do anything there other than booze and cursing those Death Eaters." He kept his teacup on the table and continued, "And now, everybody's looking at you for support. For the whole Resistance, even the Order, you and Lily are the leaders after those two. But you two need to look after yourselves, James. I know Lily isn't faring any better either. But listen to me. This is not your fault. Ha- He made his decision long ago, and there was nothing we could do. Everybody tried their best. Alright? You tried your best."

James just laughed derisively and vanished the teacups. "If that was my best, maybe I am more pathetic than I thought."

"James." Regulus sighed, keeping a hand on his shoulder.

"If I had tried my best, Regulus, my son wouldn't be out there torturing and tearing open babies. Babies, Regulus. Everytime I think he can't get any more worse, he does something that makes Voldemort look better. He's the worst out of all of them, how do you think I feel about that? Sometimes I wish... I can't even say it." James covered his face and cried.

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There was no sign of emotion, no regret on his face as the last baby fell. Wordlessly, he turned towards the wailing parents and started throwing the Killing Curse at them.

Some of them even threw themselves in the line of the curse to be killed first.

James had fallen down on the ground and was crying helplessly on his best friend's shoulder, unable to look at him anymore. How could it all have gone so wrong?

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"Jason." Lily called out.

His son kept staring out in space, twitching every once in a while. This was something that happened ever since the attack on Hythe. Jason's recovery took a lot longer than they had expected. Sometimes, he thought that the attack took place only days ago.

It had been over two months now.

Lily was not much better. She felt guilty for not being there, when the whole Resistance had suffered. She started working even more than before, often taking others' work on herself too, as her form of penance. It took a toll on her health. Lily often fell unconscious from exhaustion, both physical and magical.

"Jason, wake up, darling." She shook his still form.

"Jason, we are here with you. You are safe." He joined Lily, speaking soft, comforting words to their son. The one he hadn't failed.

It took them about fifteen minutes before his eyes refocused on them.

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"Only one horcrux is left now. Nagini." Jason said, looking around at the Order members sitting in the room, telling them about his latest discovery. Finally, they had found Voldemort's last horcrux. "Killing her would not be difficult. We have Gryffindor's sword. Just one sharp swing to cut-off her head. The problem is finding her. Voldemort always has her by her side."

"Not always." Regulus said. "According to my sources, she does go out hunting in the Forest of Dean once in a while. Apparently, she has a particular liking for hunting a day before the full moon. Even the Dark Lord's apprehensions about her safety won't stop her."

"Then we'll strategize an attack accordingly." Jason said, receiving approving nods from the Order.

Hermione, Ron and Jason stood quietly in front of the unnamed graves. There had been no information about the villagers. Months had passed, but still no one came forward to recognize or name the victims.

It was probably the Ministry's doing, and there was nothing they could do about it. The situation would not be any better even if they win the war. The incident of Hythe would be too much of a mystery if the word got out in the muggle world, threatening the Statute of Secrecy. The ICW won't ever allow it, even if they turned a blind eye to their country's situation now. The victims' graves would always remain unnamed.

"It's not fair." Ron said, staring ahead.

"It isn't." Jason agreed.

"This won't be the last time they do this. They'll do it again and again. They'll do this every time we resist them. Hell, they won't even need a reason after a while." Hermione angrily kicked the crumpled Daily Prophet lying at her feet.

Jason looked at the charred ruins. The image of that night and the present kept flickering before him. He saw a flash of a kid sliding down from the burnt slide. A father ran behind his daughter, pretending to be a thief. The daughter turned around and shot a sickly green spell at him. The father fell down with a silent thud. Slowly, the girl's skin started peeling off and she wailed loudly. Her hair was suddenly on fire. Jason could smell the burning of her flesh–

"Jason." Ron was standing in front of him, staring at him with wide eyes.

The screaming stopped and all that remained was the dead silence.