The streets of London were slick with rain, the dim glow of streetlamps reflecting off the cobblestone as Asteria White stepped off the night bus. Her boots made no sound as she moved, her sharp eyes scanning the dark alleys. London smelled different—damp stone and lingering smoke—so unlike the crisp snowy air she had grown up with. But she wasn't here for nostalgia. She was here for Gideon.

She adjusted her coat and strode forward. The city was alive in the way only war-torn places were—watchful, tense, waiting for the next explosion of violence. And tonight, it didn't take long.

A curse sizzled past her ear, striking a brick wall and leaving a charred mark. Asteria sighed, barely sparing the shadows a glance.

"That's rude," she muttered in accented English, rolling her shoulders before drawing her wand. "At least say hello first, да?"

Three figures stepped into the flickering lamplight, dark hoods concealing their faces. Death Eaters.

"Drop your wand," one of them hissed.

Asteria tilted her head, lips curving into a smirk. "You first."

They struck first—predictably—and she dodged, twisting between curses like a dancer. The alley became a battlefield, flashes of green and red illuminating her sharp features. She moved fast—too fast—her wand a blur as she sent one Death Eater crashing into the wall, another tumbling backward with a well-placed hex. The last one hesitated.

Asteria caught his gaze and slipped into his mind before he could react. It was easy. He was sloppy, untrained, his thoughts laid out before her like an open book. She saw flashes of his orders—to patrol for stragglers, to take prisoners if possible, to kill if necessary. She saw fear too.

"Run," she told him with a grin, her voice a whisper in his mind as well as his ears.

He did.

Shaking off the fight, Asteria continued forward. The Order of the Phoenix was her next stop.

✧˚ · .

The Order's headquarters was tucked away, hidden from the world, but Asteria found it without issue. She was nothing if not determined. Pushing open the door, she stepped inside, dripping rain onto the wooden floor.

The room was full—people stood around, tense and wary. Someone—a man with messy black hair and glasses—reached for his wand.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

Asteria arched a brow, unimpressed. "Oh good, introductions. I was worried about hospitality in this country."

The room tensed further, and a woman with bright red hair exchanged glances with the bespectacled man.

"You're bleeding," she pointed out.

Asteria glanced down at the gash on her arm. "Ah. Small detail. You should see the other guys."

She scanned the room, meeting wary gazes. With the slightest push, she skimmed the surface of their thoughts—suspicion, confusion, debate over whether she was a threat. She lingered for just a second too long in one mind before she felt something push back. Her gaze snapped to the corner of the room, where Albus Dumbledore watched her with mild curiosity. He knew.

A low chuckle broke the silence. Asteria shifted her gaze, meeting the stormy gray eyes of a man lounging against the wall—Sirius Black. He smirked.

"I like her already."

"That will be quite enough, Miss White," Dumbledore said smoothly. His eyes twinkled, but there was warning in them.

Asteria huffed, crossing her arms. "Old habits."

Murmurs spread through the room. The tension shifted—now it wasn't just suspicion, but recognition. They knew her name.

Dumbledore stepped forward. "Allow me to make proper introductions," he said. "This is Asteria White, a most gifted witch and a skilled Legilimens." His gaze flicked to a few members who stiffened at the mention. "She is here because she is searching for her brother, Gideon."

The murmuring grew louder. Asteria caught snippets of their thoughts—pieces of recognition, a few judgments, a couple of rather unkind remarks about her parentage.

"You've got to be bloody joking," Sirius Black announced, throwing his hands up. "A White? In the Order?"

Asteria blinked, then sighed. "Of course."

Sirius shoved off the wall, storming forward. "You didn't think to mention that before bringing her here, Dumbledore?" His voice dripped with disbelief. "Her family and mine have hated each other for centuries! But sure, let's just invite her in for tea, yeah?"

Asteria crossed her arms, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "I don't like tea."

"Brilliant," Sirius shot back sarcastically. "That makes it so much better."

Asteria smirked. "Upset that I got here first, Black?"

Sirius glared. "Upset that you're here at all."

The tension in the room thickened. Several Order members exchanged uncertain glances, while others merely watched in interest, waiting to see who would strike first.

Dumbledore, as always, remained perfectly calm. "Asteria is not her ancestors, just as you are not yours, Sirius."

Sirius scowled but didn't argue.

Dumbledore turned to the rest of the room. "Asteria has her own reasons for being here, but she may yet prove to be an invaluable ally. I trust that you will extend to her the same courtesy you would any other member of the Order."

Asteria gave the group a mock salute. "Pleasure's all mine."

Sirius made an exasperated sound, muttering something under his breath before collapsing back into his chair.

"Lily," he groaned. "If I hex her now, do I get kicked out?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Yes, Sirius."

Asteria smirked. "Shame. I'd have liked to see you try."

Sirius shot her a look. "Careful, White. I'm not above making this personal."

She sure is pretty for a White.

She smiled.

Asteria met his stare, tilting her head in challenge. "Neither am I."

Dumbledore cleared his throat lightly, a gentle but firm reminder that now was not the time.

After a long moment, Sirius scoffed and looked away. "Just... don't expect me to trust her," he muttered.

"That's alright," Asteria said smoothly. "I wasn't expecting to trust you either."

Sirius rolled his eyes and slumped back, arms crossed. "This is going to be a nightmare."

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Then let's begin."