Order of the Damned || Dorian ||

Be advised there is an arson in progress in Owl Creek. Suspects at large. Dark Mark reported to muggle police. All units requested. The voice rang out across Level Two of the Ministry building before the Department Head appeared in his office doorway, barking orders. Dorian leapt to his feet, Alastor right behind him, pulling his jacket from the back of his desk chair as the pair disapparated, the dispatch announcement fading as the room swirled around them and disappeared.

The building was engulfed in flames when the Aurors arrived, but Dorian and his partner weren’t alone. There wasn’t time to consider how Atlas had managed to beat them to the crime scene – had he even been in the office with the call came in? – nor how Dorcas had managed to already be pulling children from the inferno. Dorian dashed in behind her, water gushing from the tip of his wand. Alastor took to removing the Dark Mark that hung over the burning home as a pair of Obliviators began pulling muggle onlookers away.

There wasn’t much time and already Dorian was faced with so much carnage. Sirens from a muggle fire engine could be heard blaring in the distance. Fast footed, Dorian passed the body of a man in the living room but there was no need to pause, the man’s neck had been slashed and he had clearly passed on. A trio of bodies lay in the kitchen, Dorian hesitated just long enough to check but they were all gone. He thought there might have been hope for the little girl, but when he turned her to check her pulse, he saw the life had been ripped from her body as well. “Ground floor; clear,” he shouted, having gone through the dining room and the study finding much of the same. He turned up the stairwell just before a treacherous snarl erupted from the entry hall as a beam feel from the ceiling, partially blocking the front door. The house shook and creaked under the furious crackle of the fire. They were running out of time. Dorian glanced quickly over his shoulder at the front door, now ablaze, then turned back toward the first floor. “Auror Department,” he called out as he rushed up the stairs. “Is anyone here?”

The first floor landing was filled with smoke. Dorian covered his mouth with the crook of his arm, squinting his eyes. His wand, pointed at the flames that seeped under the door of the nearest room, sprayed water in attempt to clear the hallway. Bright blue Xs hung over each of the doorways. Dorian was relieved and confused at the same time but there was no time question the speed with which Dorcas had cleared the house. “All clear?” he asked over the crackling inferno to the figure stood in the shared bathroom. “The exit is going to take a bit of teamwork,” the Auror explained, jutting his head in the direction of the stairs behind him and ultimately the front door which was blocked by a fallen beam and surrounded by flames. He could levitate the support beam that had fallen in the entryway, but the flames would need to be extinguished or at least held back if they were going to make it through the door. Disapparation was a possibility, but a risky one. Any number of things could go wrong trying to flee from the flames and they could end up splinched and on fire wherever they came out. The door was the safest option between the two of them, but the bathroom where Dorcas stood was the only remaining room not given the all-clear. Dorian wouldn’t leave any living person behind.

“Alastor and the others are working on it, outside.” He had heard a muggle firetruck earlier but knew Alastor wouldn’t allow them to contaminate the scene. There were others from the Ministry on their way, he was certain of it. Obviously they would save as much as they could, but the perpetrator had set the fire on purpose and only after he – or she, or they – had killed the residents. Fire had already destroyed evidence, how much of it was already ashes, they wouldn’t know. Dorian knew it was vital to save as much of the structure as possible for their investigation, but he did not want himself nor Dorcas to be one of the corpses recovered from the debris.

Dorian’s eyes flicked toward the door Dorcas had emerged from, assuming it to be the bathroom where the dead body had been transported post mortum. The other bodies he had come across appeared to have been killed where they laid. It was an interesting change of MO but not uncommon in these Death Eater attacks. They were often a group effort and no two dark wizards were ever quite the same. Following Dorcas’ lead, he headed down the stairs, continuing to dowse the flames as they crossed them. Coming to the front entry, Dorian switched tactics and made to levitate the fallen beam out of the way. It was a tight fit between the walls and without damaging the structure further, it took a bit of effort, but soon the path to the front door was clear.

Removing the Dark Mark that hung over the burning building was an easy enough task, though the magic took some time to dissipate, it was not a complicated task. Just a lengthy one. Thankfully, if there were anything at all to be thankful for in this situation, the attack on the safe house had occurred during the day so the glittering skull and snake hanging in the sky did not draw they eye in the same manner as the green glow that it created at night. Of course there were more muggles awake at the moment to notice the mark, so Alastor got to work immediately working to take down the tell-tale sign of a Death Eater attack.

With his first task completed, Alastor directed a few of the Obliviators to muggles he’d seen passing by that had managed to duck into a nearby home without wizard detection, then he joined the team extinguishing the fires around the outside of the building. When Dorcas and Dorian emerged they were ushered to the Healers and with the house merely more than a smolder, Alastor took advantage. “What of the families?” he asked Dorcas, positioning himself with his back to Dorian. This wasn’t Moody the Auror talking, it was Moody the Order member and the man who had been working diligently to smuggle the muggle-born families to safety. He had failed and he was furious.

Only the boy. He and Dormiens had managed to smuggle several families out of the country by way of this safe house. Many people in and then out, as quickly as they could manage without completely abandoning them in a foreign country without shelter or connections. They had saved so many from persecution but it hadn’t been enough. They hadn’t saved them all. Alastor’s large hands were clenched into fists. Only the boy. They’d had a full house; four families, children, mothers, sons. Only the boy had survived, orphaned. Alastor had promised to protect him and he had failed spectacularly. Now he was expected to take lead? Alastor cursed loudly, smashing one of his fists into a nearby tree trunk. “Alright,” he managed through gritted teeth. “I’ll handle Humbert.”

Right place at the right time, what a bunch of dragon dung. Dorian opened his mouth to reply, though admittedly more tactfully than how he might have imagined, when Alastor interjected. The taller man attempted to guide Dorian away from Dorcas as he spoke about finding the right lead for the case, but Dorian stood his ground, his eyes evaluating Dorcas as his jaw clenched. He didn’t want to believe that there might be something more nefarious than a Death Eater attack at play here. “What were you doing Owl Creek?” he questioned. Judging by her attire, she wasn’t out for a stroll in the middle of such a cold winter’s night. She would have frozen to death, unless she’d been planning to roam around a burning building for warmth.