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Survivors of the Long War have united, ever stronger and increasingly vigilant.
The Dark Lord will perish, and those who died standing in his way will be avenged.
The fallen are remembered, and the Order endures.

-Author Unknown


It was nearly two o'clock in the morning in the magical village of Hogsmeade. Christmas was fast approaching, and the air was electric with anxiety. This was not due to the impending holiday, but rather the impending sense of doom. The Death Eaters had been wreaking havoc all over London, and Hogsmeade knew their time was coming. Flakes of snow floated toward the ground, peacefully landing on those flakes which fell before them. All around the street and sidewalks were tiny paw prints of animals scurrying about, the only things which disturbed the fresh coat of snow. Lanterns flickered in the slight breeze, casting their glow onto the nearby shops. They lit up the pathways for any passerby, though nobody was out and about at the early hours of the morning, especially in those dark times. The villagers slept in their homes, not knowing what the next day would bring. With all the things one read in the paper around that time, nobody wanted to be outside at night. People went missing, were found dead in the streets, or were badly injured, and nobody in Hogsmeade risked leaving their houses. Nobody, that is, except the strange people who lived in the little house behind the Hogs Head Pub.

The house had gone up very quickly following the Battle at Hogwarts the previous June. The villagers disliked the house immediately, calling it bad news. For the first few weeks, there was a constant stream of traffic in and out of the house. Nobody got a good look at who the people were, though young Jamie Whitaker swore up and down that she saw a motorcycle land there the first night the house appeared. This was complete poppycock, of course, but an innocent child's imagination seemed a silly thing to silence considering the very real dangers that hung around everyday life. All of the children used to love playing "Taunt the House," a game in which they would all see who could get closest to the house. They decided to stop one day when a rather giant, hairy man came out of the house, and ran around to the back yard. The children scattered in many directions, screaming at the top of their lungs, when a loud rumbling emanated from behind the house.

The lights of the house were always on, save this very night. At precisely two o'clock, the windows went dark. Nobody was watching, as they all lay asleep in their beds. The door opened, and a tall figure stepped out onto the landing. The figure was bundled up in a winter cloak and hood, one outstretched hand held out a wand, the tip aglow. The figure seemed to be looking for something. Moments passed, and finally the person turned toward the house and beckoned with the other hand. The door opened once more, and a smaller figure came out of the house. The two people looked like complete opposites. The larger wore all black, and made sure nobody could see their face. The second person wore a bright yellow winter hat, with a colorful puff on the top. She wore a light blue winter coat, and her mittens matched the yellow of her hat. She wore pink snow pants, and light blue boots. Protruding from her hat was a mane of long, blonde hair. Her blue eyes could probably be spotted from Hogwarts.

She walked up to the tall, dark figure, and stopped next to him. She looked around the street, also looking for something, until her eyes met those of the tall person next to her. She did a double take, and then locked her eyes on her companion's face. She put her hands out, and raised her eyebrows, silently asking why she was being stared at.

"What are you wearing?" The taller person said in a raspy whisper.

She looked down, and then back up. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Luna, we're supposed to be on a covert mission here!"

"So?" She retorted innocently.

"So I look ridiculous next to you."

She giggled as the other person pulled back the hood, revealing himself to anyone who might see them.

"How can you still be so cheerful?" He said, completely exasperated.

She leaned in and gave him a hug, "Isn't there enough sadness in the world, Neville?"

He shook his head, and grabbed her hand. He looked away from her, but only so she wouldn't see him smile. When he looked back at her, his face was sullen once more. They were running late, and it marked the first time a meeting wasn't in their home.

"Go on," he said, putting his hood back up, "get changed, and be quick about it."

As he watched her run back to the house, Neville felt a presence behind him. He readied his wand, and spun quickly, preparing to shout a curse. Instead, he dropped his wand arm and gasped audibly. His eyes grew to the size of Dobby's, and he staggered backwards a few steps. His throat went dry immediately, and he felt a surge of joy he hadn't felt in years. Finally, his mouth caught up to his thoughts, and he spoke.

"You...you're alive?"