AN ENTRY FOR THE IWSC FINALS

In reading order, this story comes after Hemlockconium's and before Arasulgil's.


Beauxbatons 3rd year

Theme: unexpected disappearances and appearances/discoveries

Linking: the assembling of the first-war Order of the Phoenix, shared prompt (first wizarding war), same original character names (Prewett parents), reference to the McKinnons (Hemlockconium's story) and location of first meeting (at Fabian's and Gideon's house; YouHaveNoIdeaWhatImCapableOf's story)

Prompts: comedy (main), first wizarding war, "What's a broomstick doing all the way out here?"

WC 3155


Author's Note

Dedalus Diggle is perhaps one of the most interesting and contradictory cameo characters in the series. The portrayal of him as a tiny, excitable man in a purple top hat, with a pocket-watch which shouts at him to hurry up, and who "never had any sense", according to McGonagall, is quite comedic. Yet he survived the first wizarding war apparently unscathed and was chosen as a member of the Advance Guard to escort Harry to Grimmauld Place, which implies he was a good wizard, a talented duellist, and a skilled flyer. I decided to use both comedy and tragedy in my reconciliation of these contradictions.

According to Sirius in OotP, mysterious disappearances were a frequent occurrence during the first wizarding war period. I chose to use the tragic disappearance of Diggle's parents as a key motivator for him to seek to join the Order, and comedic disappearances to provide contrast and create a character arc for Diggle as he struggled to make his disappearances themselves disappear, enabling him to shine as the talented wizard that had always lurked behind his mishaps and convince Dumbledore to allow him to join the Order.

Beta thanks to Hemlockconium and DaughterOfTheOneTrueKing


Assembling the First-War Order of the Phoenix

Part 5: Dedalus Diggle

Dedalus Diggle came rushing out of his parents' home in alarm, calling, "Mother! Father! Where are you?"

The villagers of Rolvenden looked out of their windows in some amusement. That fellow and his 'disappearings'!

"Don't tell me, Dedalus," chortled his neighbour, Brodor Maer, who was watering his garden. "You were cooking dinner and managed to disappear two people instead of conjure up a leg of mutton?"

"I wasn't doing anything, Brodor," said Dedalus worriedly. "I've just arrived home from visiting a friend and they're not here. There are vegetables partly peeled, the kettle has boiled dry and the fire is almost out. Something's not right. They wouldn't have gone anywhere leaving the kitchen like that."

Brodor sobered immediately. "I'm sorry, Dedalus; I didn't realise. It's just that we're so used to your disappearings, you know."

Dedalus hastily brushed aside his friend's apology. "I know. It doesn't matter. Brodor, did you see anything? Hear anything?"

Brodor thought for a moment. "Now that you mention it, there were a couple of strangers about. They were – " He stopped. "Er, Dedalus, did you read the Daily Prophet this morning?"

Dedalus looked puzzled. "No, I was in a hurry. Why?"

His friend hesitated. "Do you still have the paper around?"

Dedalus nodded and went indoors. Brodor put down his watering can and followed Dedalus into the living room. He took the paper Dedalus offered him, opened it to the third page and pointed to an article headed:

BE ON YOUR GUARD!

Attention, all members of the magical community! Several more reports of mysterious disappearances have come to light in recent days. In a communication made to the Ministry last night, a wizard styling himself Lord Voldemort has claimed responsibility for the disappearances, stating that he intends to wage a campaign seeking the purification of magical blood and eventual assumption of wizarding power and abolition of the Statute of Secrecy.

A Ministry spokesperson has distanced the Ministry from Lord Voldemort's aims. "Lord Voldemort is not authorised by the Ministry, nor does the Ministry agree with his policies. The Ministry and the Wizengamot are working to address the threat, and we urge anyone with information about...er...You-Know-Who's whereabouts to contact us. Full confidentiality is guaranteed.

In the meantime, we advise all witches and wizards to take precautions. Keep your wand on your person at all times, and do not open your door to strangers. Any disappearances or other unexplained events should be reported to the Ministry immediately."

Dedalus read the article with growing consternation.

"Goodness gracious!" he exclaimed as he finished. "Do you think that's what happened? And who is this Vol…er…Voldemort person, anyway?"

Brodor shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I've never heard of him before. But it's possible, isn't it? Your parents are both half-bloods, and according to the Ministry this Voldemort character wants to get rid of them. Anyway, you should report it."

He went over to the writing desk in the corner and brought Dedalus a piece of parchment, ink and a quill. Dedalus obediently scribbled a note and fastened it to his owl's leg. He opened the window and watched as the owl soared out and headed north-west.

"And now," he said with determination, "I'm going to visit Dumbledore. I'll bet he's already got plans for dealing with this Voldemort person, and I'm going to be part of them. I'll see you in a day or two, Brodor."

He turned on the spot, but the only thing that disappeared was the vase of flowers on the table. Brodor collapsed with laughter.

"Dedalus," he said through his chuckles, "if the Ministry wants to get rid of Lord Voldemort, all they have to do is put you and him in the same room together and get you to cast a few spells."

Dedalus looked sheepish. "I don't seem to get any better, do I?" He sighed. "Ah well, if at first you don't succeed…"

He turned on the spot again, and this time Disapparated successfully. Brodor laughed again as he saw that Dedalus's broomstick had also vanished. Somewhere, he thought, a very surprised wizard is probably exclaiming, "What's a broomstick doing all the way out here?"

He shook his head solemnly.

"I don't envy Dumbledore at all," he murmured.

Albus Dumbledore looked doubtfully at Dedalus. He remembered his former pupil well, for his progress through Hogwarts had been punctuated by a series of mishaps and disasters. Dumbledore, like the Rolvenden villagers, could point to a string of disappearances that Dedalus had caused during his attempts at Charms. The disappeared things always reappeared after a time, although their absence had often been decidedly awkward. Dedalus's account of his parents' disappearance, however, definitely indicated Lord Voldemort's agency.

Dumbledore hesitated, wondering how best to decline Dedalus's eager offer of service.

"I'm sorry, Dedalus," he said kindly, "I appreciate your offer, but I need people who are both quick and accurate with their wands. It is inevitable that many will have to confront Lord Voldemort directly, and he is a highly skilled wizard. Even such accomplished wizards and witches as the McKinnons and the Prewetts might well fall to his wand."

Dedalus's face fell. "But I'm terribly keen, sir – doesn't that count for anything?"

Dumbledore hastened to reassure him. "Of course it does, Dedalus. I am simply concerned that your mishaps will put both you and other members of the group at greater risk. Besides," he added with a chuckle, "I should hate to lose a warrior or two in the midst of a battle because you made them disappear."

Dedalus giggled reluctantly. "I disappeared a vase of flowers when I was trying to Apparate here," he confessed.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "I simply cannot have such an accident-prone wizard in the group. You are talented and skilled, but those qualities are far outweighed by your constant mishaps."

Dedalus looked at him pleadingly, but Dumbledore's expression remained firm.

"Sir, couldn't you possibly give me a trial?" Dedalus begged. "I'll do anything. And I promise I'll stop disappearing things, really I will."

Dumbledore considered the suggestion thoughtfully.

"Perhaps that would be a way forward. But," he warned, "if you fail the trial I shall have to refuse you."

"Oh yes, yes – I quite understand that," burst out Dedalus. "Of course. But I won't fail, I promise. I'll try awfully hard. Thank you terribly much, sir."

Dumbledore smiled at him. "Good. Perhaps your strong desire to conquer this failing will be the key to success. It always seemed to me that you were so accustomed to the mishaps that you never really tried to overcome them."

Dedalus was startled. "Perhaps you're right, sir. Everyone always laughed and said 'It's just Dedalus', so I came to think that that was just how I am."

"Exactly so," Dumbledore affirmed. "But as I said before, you are talented and skilled; were it not so, you would never have passed your O.W.L.s despite the mishaps which occurred during your examinations."

Dedalus giggled reminiscently. "I never did understand how the examiner marked me on my Care of Magical Creatures when I'd disappeared the Niffler I had to look after."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I seem to remember him telling me that since the Niffler had vanished so completely, he couldn't say that you hadn't cared for it appropriately, but that you had certainly left everything very tidy."

He returned to the earlier subject.

"I am going to send you on a short trial mission, Dedalus. I am looking for a suitable place to use as headquarters for the group, and I think this could be a very good opportunity for you to prove yourself."

Dedalus nodded eagerly. "Yes, of course. What sort of place do you need?"

"Most importantly, it must have good potential for establishing secure boundaries. That means it cannot be a place with many people passing through it, nor a place which has been used for Dark wizardry in the past. It must be conveniently situated, and not in a location where frequent comings and goings would be remarked upon. And, of course, if it is occupied then the occupants must be in sympathy with our aims – or better yet, already members of the group."

Dedalus checked off the points on his fingers. "Secure boundaries. No Dark wizardry in the past. Conveniently situated. Not so quiet that visitors would be noticed. Supportive or group member occupants. Is that right?"

"Perfectly correct, Dedalus." Dumbledore smiled approvingly. "I shall give you a week – that, I think, should be enough time to complete the mission. I wish you every success."

Dedalus rose to his feet.

"I shall do my best, sir," he said earnestly. "I'll come back in a week's time."

As Dedalus closed the door behind him, Dumbledore looked thoughtful. He was still unsure whether he had done the right thing in giving Dedalus any hope. Ah well, he thought, I can but wait and see.

Dedalus hesitated for a few minutes outside the massive iron gates of Hogwarts. He was proud that Dumbledore had entrusted him with a task, and desperately wanted to succeed, but he had no idea where to begin. The indistinct whispering of the trees as the wind stirred them echoed his jumbled thoughts.

As he recalled Dumbledore's criteria, however, his mind cleared. If Lord Voldemort was against half-bloods – and presumably Muggle-borns as well – then his supporters would lie among the pure-bloods. Dedalus decided to begin his search in the mixed villages – Godric's Hollow, Tinworth, Upper Flagley and Ottery St Catchpole. He knew no-one in Upper Flagley, so he concentrated on the other three. Godric's Hollow, in the West Country, was more conveniently situated than either Devon or Cornwall, and he knew two people there – Bathilda Bagshot and Milton Wright, descendant of the famed Golden Snitch inventor. Milton had been in his year at Hogwarts, and Dedalus knew him to be both trustworthy and a keen supporter of Dumbledore; he decided to begin there.

He jumped in alarm as a voice suddenly shouted "Hurry up!", but it was only his pocket-watch. He giggled at its appositeness and turned on the spot to Disapparate. Nothing happened, and he groaned with dismay as a sudden coldness around his ears told him his hat had disappeared. He concentrated hard, turned on the spot again, and sighed with relief as the customary squeezing sensation signalled his success.

He arrived outside the Wrights' house a few moments later and rang the doorbell eagerly. Milton opened it and beamed in welcome.

"Dedalus, good to see you! It's been a long time. Come in, come in!"

Dedalus followed his friend into the sitting room. "I'm sorry, Milton, but I can't stay long. I have a task to fulfil, and I'm hoping you might be able to help. But if you can't, I'll have to keep moving."

Milton looked at him enquiringly. "What is it, Dedalus?"

Dedalus knew he had to be discreet, since Milton was not a member of Dumbledore's group. He chose his words carefully.

"I need to find a place for some friends to meet together. It's a secret, though, so it has to be somewhere that a gathering of people wouldn't be noticed. Also, we want to set protections around the meetings. Could we use your house, please?"

Milton gasped at this extraordinary request.

"What on earth – ? No, wait…before I ask that – would it even be safe? I mean, I'd hate you to disappear a whole lot of my household goods." He laughed heartily at his own joke, and Dedalus blushed.

"That's the other part of my task," he admitted. "I need to overcome my disappearings. I don't know how, though."

Milton shook his head. "Nor do I. You've disappeared things ever since I've known you, and I can't see you stopping now."

Dedalus's heart sank. He could sense that Milton wasn't keen on offering his house, and his friend's pessimism was discouraging.

"Oh well, never mind," he sighed. "I'll keep trying. Do you think it would be worth asking Bathilda?"

Milton shook his head. "I don't recommend it. Everyone in the village thinks she's getting very peculiar in her old age. She's been saying the strangest things about Dumbledore – something about him having been into the Dark Arts, and having fought with his brother at a funeral. It sounds like utter tosh to me."

Dedalus listened to this in astonishment. It certainly sounded as if Bathilda wouldn't be willing to cooperate. He sighed again.

"Very well. Thanks, Milton; I'd better be off. You'll excuse me rushing away so soon, won't you?"

Milton ushered his friend out, relieved that Dedalus had accepted his refusal so readily. Really, he thought, who on earth would choose to have Disappearing Dedalus as a regular visitor? Not he, thank you very much!

Dedalus shivered as the cold air whipped around his hatless head. He pulled a large purple-spotted handkerchief from his pocket and tied it firmly over his hair as he pondered where to go next. Ottery St Catchpole was a little closer, but he decided to head to Tinworth first. He had a healthy respect for the redoubtable Muriel Prewett, and shuddered at what she would say if he consulted younger members of the family before asking her.

He was about to Disapparate, but he stopped abruptly.

"I must do it right," he thought.

He concentrated fiercely again and turned on the spot. The usual squeezing sensation compressed his ribs for a minute or two before his feet hit solid ground again. He was standing on the pavement outside Shell Cottage and, as far as he could tell, nothing had disappeared. He gave a little skip of satisfaction before walking up the front path and knocking on the door.

Muriel opened it suddenly, looked at him sternly for a moment, and then barked, "Dedalus Diggle. What do you want?"

He repeated the request he had made to Milton Wright, stammering a little under Muriel's forbidding stare.

She did not answer for a moment, and then said abruptly, "You'd better come in."

He stepped into the cottage's cosy living room and meekly took the seat his hostess pointed to. She squeezed herself into the chair opposite and frowned at him.

"Now, what's all this about, Dedalus? The truth, mind. I can tell when someone's hedging, and I'll have none of it. If you want my house for something, I want to know exactly what it's for."

Dedalus gulped, but there was no help for it. He would have to tell her more.

"Professor Dumbledore is getting together an army to fight this Lord Voldemort person, and they need a meeting place," he explained briefly.

"Humph," was Miss Prewett's answer. "And why my place, may I ask?"

"Well, because – it…it fits all the criteria," stammered Dedalus. "It can be made secure, it hasn't had Dark wizards living here, and it's not so quiet that frequent visitors would be noticed."

"I should have said you can't get much quieter than Shell Cottage," disputed Muriel. "Besides, it's a bit out of the way. Isn't there anywhere closer to London?"

"I did think of Fabian and Gideon's place," admitted Dedalus, "but – "

"But you thought you'd better talk to me first," interrupted Muriel shrewdly. "And quite right, too! But really, their place is a much better choice, and I'm sure Ignatius and Johanna would allow the boys to have the meetings there. Send them an owl from here, and I'll add my bit as well."

Dedalus assented meekly, but with inward delight. If Muriel commanded it, the Prewett brothers would almost certainly agree.

Muriel sighed exasperatedly. "The ink is upstairs, and so is my quill and all the parchment. Dedalus, you've got your wand handy – summon them for me, would you?"

"Accio writing materials," said Dedalus obediently, with a wave of his wand.

Muriel gave a sudden squawk. "The mantelpiece just disappeared!"

Dedalus looked in horror. Sure enough, the polished mantelpiece no longer surmounted the fireplace, which now looked extremely bare.

"Dedalus Diggle – where – is – my – mantelpiece?" Muriel spoke with terrifying emphasis.

Dedalus almost squeaked his answer. "I d-disappeared it."

"You what?"

"I disappeared it," repeated Dedalus. "I'm sorry. I keep disappearing things; I can't help it."

"Of course you can help it!" Muriel was uncompromising. "You're neither a fool nor an idiot, despite what some may think. All it takes is figuring out why you do it, and fixing it."

"I've no idea why," said Dedalus helplessly. "I've always done it."

Muriel had no patience with such feebleness. "Then it's about time you stopped," she snapped. "You can't go around disappearing everyone's belongings willy-nilly – and I certainly won't recommend you to Fabian and Gideon if that's the sort of thing you do."

"You needn't worry," groaned Dedalus. "If I can't stop, Dumbledore won't have me in the group anyway."

"I don't blame him!" But Muriel softened a little. "Tell me, did you ever do a good disappearance as a child?"

Dedalus giggled reminiscently. "We-ell, there was something I thought was good. Mother was insisting I eat my dinner, and I didn't want to. I sort of willed it away and it disappeared, and she praised me for having eaten it."

"There you are, then!" exclaimed Muriel triumphantly. "That's it! You disappeared something and you were told you were a good boy. That made you think disappearing things was good, and it's been affecting your spell-casting ever since."

Dedalus looked at her in amazement. "You know, I think you're right!" he cried delightedly. "Perhaps now I know what caused it, I won't do it any more."

"Try something now," commanded Muriel. "Go on – summon the teapot out from the kitchen."

"Accio teapot," said Dedalus hopefully. A moment later Muriel's best teapot floated through the doorway and came to rest on the coffee table. They looked around the room, but nothing had vanished.

"It worked!" said Dedalus excitedly. He jumped out of his chair and bobbed happily around the room. "It really worked! Muriel, you're a darling."

He made as if to hug her, but her stern look stopped him.

"None of that, Dedalus," she said admonishingly. "You could do with working on that flibbertigibbertiness too, if you ask me."

Dedalus could not be quenched even by Muriel's severity. "I'm fixed, I'm fixed! I'm not Disappearing Dedalus any more. And I can join Dumbledore's team and maybe get Mother and Father back. Hooray!"

He waved his wand wildly and a shower of shooting stars flew across the room.

"DEDALUS!" thundered Muriel. "Stop that AT ONCE!"

Dedalus sobered a little. He couldn't afford to upset Muriel now, just when she'd agreed to arrange for the Order to use Fabian and Gideon's house as a meeting-place. But oh! – he was so grateful to her for having solved the problem of his disappearings. He had found out something about himself, found a place for Dumbledore's group, and taken one step closer to finding his parents, all at the same time.