Chapter 32

When Diana and Aaron Apparated into the underground safehouse, Orlens was bent over Anne, working furiously to treat the gaping wound in her abdomen.

The moment they saw her, covered in blood from head to toe, both of them went white.

“Anne,” Orlens said grimly, “let me remind you both, there’s a traitor in the Order of the Phoenix.” He frowned deeply, not looking up from his work. “Diana, I need your help.”

Aaron’s expression tightened. “How is she?” he asked sharply.

“She’s in critical condition,” Orlens said bluntly, handing Diana a pair of bloodstained fragments, the remains of Anne’s shattered chest armor. “Fortunately, she treated herself before arriving. Otherwise… it would’ve been far worse.”

Diana’s brows furrowed. “Uncle Orlens—”

“I’ll tell you everything in detail once I’m done patching her up and run a full scan,” the healer cut in.

Diana nodded once and turned to Aaron. “Well? Don’t just stand there. What about the Order? You think the Ministry won’t be crawling with rumors by tonight? If you don’t act now, by tomorrow it’ll be impossible to even step foot outside that office.”

Aaron exhaled sharply. “You stay with Anne. Call me the moment anything changes.”

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It was nearly midnight by the time Aaron returned.

“How’s Anne?” he demanded the second he entered, spotting Diana slumped on the sofa with a glass in hand. She drained the last of her wine and shook her head.

“I still don’t know.”

Aaron began pacing, running a hand through his hair. His nerves were raw, his movements restless. “Do you have any idea how many Death Eaters they sent?” he burst out suddenly, his voice rising.

Diana poured herself another full glass of white wine and took a heavy drink.

“Four!” Aaron shouted. Diana’s hand jerked, the glass nearly slipped from her fingers.

Aaron’s whole body trembled with fury. “If I ever find out who leaked that address—”

“How many Order members’ information was exposed this time?” Diana asked quietly.

“None! Not a single one!” Aaron slammed a fist against the back of the sofa, the sound echoing through the room. “Damn it!”

He clenched his jaw, eyes rimmed red. “Anne activated the SS-level alert and triggered the destruction of the outer headquarters. She didn’t leave anything behind.”

Silence hung between them. Diana slid a tumbler of whiskey across the table toward him.

“You spent the whole afternoon and didn’t find a trace of the traitor?”

Aaron shook his head bitterly. “No. The inner circle is holding together for now, but the outer division’s in chaos. After the SS alert, we lost most of our reliable informants. Every agent I still trust, I’ve already sent out, Kingsley, Moody…” His voice faltered. Guilt, frustration, and rage churned in his eyes. He snatched up the whiskey and swallowed deeply.

The burn of the alcohol seared his throat, grounded him for a moment. He sat down heavily, staring into the empty glass, voice rough. “Anne’s going to make it… right?”

Diana’s fingers trembled as she refilled her own glass. The memory of Anne’s blood-slicked body flashed before her eyes. She drained the drink in one go, then set the glass down with a sharp clink. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse but steady.

“If you find the traitor, Aaron, tell me first. I don’t care who it is. I’ll make sure they pay.”

Aaron fell silent, jaw tight. He nodded slowly, veins standing out along his hand gripping the glass.

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The door to the treatment room finally opened.

Orlens stepped out, his robes soaked with blood. With a flick of his wand, most of the stains vanished, though the deep fatigue etched on his face remained. His white beard quivered as he muttered another cleaning spell that barely took.

Aaron and Diana both jumped to their feet.

Orlens rubbed the few wisps of hair left on his head and sank into the nearest armchair. His eyes fell on the whiskey, but instead he asked, “Do you have tea?”

“Yes, right away.” Diana hurried into the kitchen and returned less than a minute later with a pot and three cups.

Orlens sipped slowly, letting out a deep breath before speaking. “Anne’s stable, for now. As long as she doesn’t develop a fever within the next three days, she’ll pull through.”

Neither Diana nor Aaron relaxed.

“Let me go over the injuries,” the old healer continued. “She’s covered in cuts and abrasions, those are the least of it. They’ll heal in a couple of days. Her left forearm’s shattered, non-magical fracture, but manageable with proper potion treatment and a few regrowth spells. Should recover within a week.”

He paused, then went on. “The right side of her abdomen is worse. A piercing wound, both curse damage and a metal spike. Stopping the bleeding was near impossible. Fortunately, Anne used some kind of healing potion I’ve never seen before, it neutralized most of the curse effect. The bleeding’s under control. She’ll need one or two weeks to fully recover.”

He leaned forward slightly. “But the real problem is…”

Aaron and Diana looked at him, tense.

“Two broken ribs, and the head injury.”

“Head injury? How—”

“Don’t interrupt, Aaron,” Diana snapped. “Let him finish.”

Orlens nodded approvingly. “The cut on her left cheek isn’t serious, no scar, though her eyesight will be permanently weakened. The ribs and head, however… that’s another matter.”

He set down his teacup, his tone darkening. “One of the broken ribs grazed a lung and pierced the stomach. But she drank something, something that stopped the bleeding instantly. There’s no internal pooling of blood. That’s the best we could’ve hoped for. Still, the wound carries curse energy on par with a Class-Three Dark Spell, and combined with the abdominal injury, fever is a serious risk.”

He paused again, looking thoughtful. “Tell me, has Anne ever suffered a head injury before?”

Diana and Aaron exchanged a look. Aaron answered first. “Fifth year.”

“October,” Diana added. “She hit her head and was hospitalized in the school infirmary.”

“Yes, that’s right, October. We got a letter from the school about it. Why?” Aaron asked, anxiety creeping back into his voice.

Orlens stroked his beard, thinking. “You might not know this about her, but Anne’s constitution is unusually weak.”

“What do you mean?” they both asked at once.

“That’s what I just confirmed,” Orlens explained. “One of the main reasons I retired early was to study magical physiology. Generally, wizards have stronger bodies than Muggles, rarely fall ill, and live longer, on average.”

Aaron and Diana both stiffened, uneasy.

“To put it simply,” the healer continued, “if a perfectly healthy Muggle’s constitution scores a hundred points, the average Muggle might be around eighty. Wizards, however, typically score between one-twenty and one-fifty. But Anne… she’s only around eighty-five.”

Aaron frowned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning she’s more sensitive to cold and heat, gets sick more easily, tires faster—”

“—and sleep in late?” Aaron blurted without thinking.

Diana shot him a glare, but Orlens chuckled softly. “That too. But otherwise, there’s not much difference.”

“Then what about her head?” Aaron asked.

Orlens’s face grew serious again. “Though there’s no visible trauma, I suspect she may have suffered another concussion, or possibly a deeper magical strain to the brain.”

“What will that mean for her?” Diana asked quietly.

“For now, I can’t say. Magical neurology is a field even the Department of Mysteries barely understands. But for her sake—” He looked at Diana, eyes steady. “I want to relocate my entire research base from India to London. Permanently. I have some case studies that might help if anything develops.”

Diana’s voice softened. “Of course, Uncle Orlens. Thank you.”

He stood, resting a hand on her shoulder. “No need to thank me. Every one of us old Rolands has a soft spot for that girl. She’s got the same fire your father once had. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she one day led the family further than he ever did. I never thought I’d live to see it.”

He straightened his robes. “Now, both of you should go. Get some rest. I’ll watch over Anne tonight. If anything happens, I’ll call immediately. And the two of you, be careful. The situation’s turning grim.”

Aaron hesitated at the door. “Can I… see her?”

Diana looked at Orlens, her expression mirroring Aaron’s plea.