I.

Strange, the big, important things happening all around, of which so few are aware. November ninth was just a Tuesday: a quiet, desolate Tuesday at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The corridors and halls and common rooms were still and silent. A few teachers remained, but they took their meals in their respective offices or down in the village, and so the entire castle appeared dead. To this, Emmeline Vance and Caradoc Dearborn arrived Tuesday evening. They entered through the great doors in the Entrance Halltogether by design, not coincidence, for they had, together, come to the conclusion that a visit to Hogwarts headmaster must be paid, and soon. Many years had passed since Emmeline had walked these halls, but the path returned to her almost as easily as it did to Caradoc, who had roamed the castle only months before. They moved swiftly and with purpose, Emmeline a step or two ahead of Caradoc; the fingers of her left hand pinched around the corner of a parchment envelope bearing her name. Caradoc had no letter to summon him; he was there strictly as a volunteer. They reached Dumbledores office, and Emmeline gave the password relayed to her by Minerva McGonagall. The great statue of the griffin began to turn, revealing the staircase to the Headmasters office. Emmeline hesitated; she glanced over her shoulder at her companion. I know you, Doc, she said, and it was truethey had been at Hogwarts together, prefects of the same era, though Emmeline was a year ahead. There had once been a great overlap amongst their friendsmostly before the war, when tensions between houses were somewhat lesserand in later years, Emmeline had worked alongside Doc on a number of occasions. But none of this was what she meant. She knew him, in that she knew exactly how he felt what views he had always voicedabout this war. He didnt want any part of it. You dont have to go in, you know, the witch went on. I know, Caradoc agreed. Unsatisfied: And you shouldnt, she added. Not unless youre absolutely certain. The wizard nodded. Im certain. Emmeline nodded. All right, then. Emmeline had never seen this office during Dumbledores occupation of it, but little about it surprised her. There were, of course, the permanent fixtures, like the many snoozing portraits overhead, which gave a sense of continuity, even among the changes the great red and gold bird on a perch, the whirling contraptions all around, and the man himself, robed in dark purple and seated behind that colossal desk. He reacted very little to their arrival. Minerva told you we were coming, Caradoc guesses. Dumbledore nodded. He offered them chairs, and when seated, Emmeline placed her letter on his desk. Dumbledores eyes did not so much as flicker towards the envelope, but remained fixed upon her. I got your note, she said dryly.

There must be something out of order with the post, Dumbledore replied humorously. That letter was sent months ago. Strange, agreed Emmeline. Dumbledore looked to Caradoc. And young Master Dearborn? I reckon Im ready to get my hands dirty. He leaned back in his chair. Tell me about the Order of the Phoenix.