Chapter 1-- New Problems, Old Friends
July 30th
A man with greasy black hair sat in the far corner of the pub sipping deeply from a frosty mug of mucky liquid and starring at the clock with his cold dark eyes. Twelve faint rings escaped the clock, barely heard over the rich laughter of the late night drinkers and the pelting curtains of rain crashing on the rusty tin roof. The man finished the venomous looking liquid then sat back, the hood of his thick black coat covering his face from wondering eyes. At the bar, two women were gossiping loudly.
"They say Fudge has gone mad. He goes on all day, smiling and whistling. He acts as if the warnings sitting right in front of his face are nothing but children's games. He won't admit the Dementors are betraying the Ministry, and last week there was word floating around that he's going to fire Dumbledore and anyone else up at the school who carries on with conversation of You-Know-Who's return."
"If that man doesn't shape up, there won't be a Hogwarts left to fire people from... the magical community is never going to be the same when He starts his attacks again. They say it's worse than before. Today, Lilia was saying how things at the Daily Prophet office..."
The man in the corner stopped listening to glance up at the clock again. He drew some coins from his pocket and let them clatter carelessly onto the table. He pulled his hood closer to his face and headed to the door. Soon the dim warm lighting and jolly chatter were behind him and he disappeared into the chill streets. ***
The glowing fire cracked merrily in the small grate, illuminating the cozy parlor room. Mangy looking cats mewed from every shadow, disturbing the two already-exhausted men.
One sat in a semi-trance twirling his thumbs nervously and humming in unison to the constant tick-tock of the grandfather clock. The rings under his eyes were wide and a sickly bluish-black color. He wasn't too old but already his brown hair was touched with gray.
The other man leaned against the wall by the mantel. He sipped cold tea and munched away on stale apple scones. His dark hair cascaded around his shoulders. It was stringy and unkempt. Tiny stubbles of grey-black hair decorated the lower part of his young face, showing that he obviously hadn't shaved in days.
Dangerous black eyes against a pale face gave him a haunting, almost immortal effect. He resembled a fangless vampire more than a human.
Three quick knocks at the door followed by a louder one broke the silence. The fire blazed up and then went out with the lights. A frail old woman emerged from the kitchen clutching a lit wand in her bony hand. The two men pulled wands from somewhere in their pockets and lit their wands as well.
The man resembling a vampire looked suddenly alive in the whitish glow. His face was no longer haunting; on the contrary, his dark features were refreshing. A half smiled crossed his face as he nodded to the others, then disappeared down a corridor. ***
"Hello Severus," The old woman greeted the cloaked figure at the door, placing a surprisingly strong hand on his shoulder and gripping it for a moment before letting him uncloak and sit.
"Arabella." He nodded to her in greeting, allowing his deep voice to chill the warm room.
The woman turned on the lights, re-lit the fire, and disappeared into the kitchen. Severus ran a hand through his greasy black hair before glancing around the room. His dark piercing eyes filled with loathing and disgust as he spotted the man with the rings under his eyes.
"Severus, you're late." The man said in an annoying enjoying-himself-too- much tone.
"I'm sorry, your highness. Do allow me to make it up to you. Perhaps a little powder for that delicate skin under your eyes? Or maybe I should retrieve your crown?" He spat. "It might do you good to wear it... it would hide that gray hair." He added, smiling wickedly.
"Tell, me, Severus, what is your secret? It surely can't be the three bottles of grease you apply every day? Oh wait... that's natural." The man sneered back.
"Remus, you'd think that maybe after one or two dozen times, the joke would get old. I suppose not though seeing as you've been using it for twenty- five years and you still get a laugh out of it. Slow and simple, dear Remus. Do me a favor and stay that way always? It suits you just fine." They stared daggers at each other, wands out and ready to curse, but at that moment, a bark bellowed through the house followed by several hisses from unnerved cats.
"Come on, Remus, your colleague is calling you. Allow me to escort you where you belong, with the dogs." Severus said coldly, starring into the man's gray-blue eyes.
"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, eh Severus?" Said Remus, nudging Severus' shoulder harshly.
They walked down a dark hall, using the glow of Remus' wand to guide them. At the end of the narrow passage, Severus unlocked a door with his wand and they proceeded down a flight of damp, echoing stairs. Across a small room, behind a few rows of storage shelves, and through a secret door behind an old wardrobe, they found themselves standing in an ancient looking cellar room. ***
Remus Lupin starred at the group around him: Severus Snape; A red-haired man and two younger looking red-heads, obviously his sons; a sharp woman with a stern face and square spectacles; the elderly woman, Arabella Figg, and a huge black dog.
As if time had flashed before them, a young woman stood in place of Arabella. The veiny arms of the elderly woman were replaced by smooth, clear skin. The sight of this silky black-auburn hair was completely opposite of the light wispy gray of Arabella's thin hair. The symbol for "Year of the Snake" was tattooed in black on her moon-pale arm. However, the lady's piercing honey-and-green eyes were identical to those of Mrs. Figg's.
Remus Lupin couldn't help but give a boyish smirk as watched Severus stare at her. It brought a flood of childhood memories. His attention was drawn from Severus' face however, when the strict women with square glasses cleared her throat.
"News, Severus?"
"All in good time, Minerva. First, where is Albus?"
"He can't attend tonight. He is with Hagrid. I suppose that leaves only one of the Order," she said, eyeing the large black dog, "To transform into regular form." ***
It had been many times this group of people had stood there through the late hours of the night and the very early hours of the morning. And it would be many more nights of the same action, for it was an ongoing procedure, and not one of warmth, nor friendliness, nor safety. These meetings were held in secret, in darkness, and always in the shadow of fear. Always there was the chance they would not make it to see another sunrise, and for some of this group, it was more than a chance.
July 30th
A man with greasy black hair sat in the far corner of the pub sipping deeply from a frosty mug of mucky liquid and starring at the clock with his cold dark eyes. Twelve faint rings escaped the clock, barely heard over the rich laughter of the late night drinkers and the pelting curtains of rain crashing on the rusty tin roof. The man finished the venomous looking liquid then sat back, the hood of his thick black coat covering his face from wondering eyes. At the bar, two women were gossiping loudly.
"They say Fudge has gone mad. He goes on all day, smiling and whistling. He acts as if the warnings sitting right in front of his face are nothing but children's games. He won't admit the Dementors are betraying the Ministry, and last week there was word floating around that he's going to fire Dumbledore and anyone else up at the school who carries on with conversation of You-Know-Who's return."
"If that man doesn't shape up, there won't be a Hogwarts left to fire people from... the magical community is never going to be the same when He starts his attacks again. They say it's worse than before. Today, Lilia was saying how things at the Daily Prophet office..."
The man in the corner stopped listening to glance up at the clock again. He drew some coins from his pocket and let them clatter carelessly onto the table. He pulled his hood closer to his face and headed to the door. Soon the dim warm lighting and jolly chatter were behind him and he disappeared into the chill streets. ***
The glowing fire cracked merrily in the small grate, illuminating the cozy parlor room. Mangy looking cats mewed from every shadow, disturbing the two already-exhausted men.
One sat in a semi-trance twirling his thumbs nervously and humming in unison to the constant tick-tock of the grandfather clock. The rings under his eyes were wide and a sickly bluish-black color. He wasn't too old but already his brown hair was touched with gray.
The other man leaned against the wall by the mantel. He sipped cold tea and munched away on stale apple scones. His dark hair cascaded around his shoulders. It was stringy and unkempt. Tiny stubbles of grey-black hair decorated the lower part of his young face, showing that he obviously hadn't shaved in days.
Dangerous black eyes against a pale face gave him a haunting, almost immortal effect. He resembled a fangless vampire more than a human.
Three quick knocks at the door followed by a louder one broke the silence. The fire blazed up and then went out with the lights. A frail old woman emerged from the kitchen clutching a lit wand in her bony hand. The two men pulled wands from somewhere in their pockets and lit their wands as well.
The man resembling a vampire looked suddenly alive in the whitish glow. His face was no longer haunting; on the contrary, his dark features were refreshing. A half smiled crossed his face as he nodded to the others, then disappeared down a corridor. ***
"Hello Severus," The old woman greeted the cloaked figure at the door, placing a surprisingly strong hand on his shoulder and gripping it for a moment before letting him uncloak and sit.
"Arabella." He nodded to her in greeting, allowing his deep voice to chill the warm room.
The woman turned on the lights, re-lit the fire, and disappeared into the kitchen. Severus ran a hand through his greasy black hair before glancing around the room. His dark piercing eyes filled with loathing and disgust as he spotted the man with the rings under his eyes.
"Severus, you're late." The man said in an annoying enjoying-himself-too- much tone.
"I'm sorry, your highness. Do allow me to make it up to you. Perhaps a little powder for that delicate skin under your eyes? Or maybe I should retrieve your crown?" He spat. "It might do you good to wear it... it would hide that gray hair." He added, smiling wickedly.
"Tell, me, Severus, what is your secret? It surely can't be the three bottles of grease you apply every day? Oh wait... that's natural." The man sneered back.
"Remus, you'd think that maybe after one or two dozen times, the joke would get old. I suppose not though seeing as you've been using it for twenty- five years and you still get a laugh out of it. Slow and simple, dear Remus. Do me a favor and stay that way always? It suits you just fine." They stared daggers at each other, wands out and ready to curse, but at that moment, a bark bellowed through the house followed by several hisses from unnerved cats.
"Come on, Remus, your colleague is calling you. Allow me to escort you where you belong, with the dogs." Severus said coldly, starring into the man's gray-blue eyes.
"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, eh Severus?" Said Remus, nudging Severus' shoulder harshly.
They walked down a dark hall, using the glow of Remus' wand to guide them. At the end of the narrow passage, Severus unlocked a door with his wand and they proceeded down a flight of damp, echoing stairs. Across a small room, behind a few rows of storage shelves, and through a secret door behind an old wardrobe, they found themselves standing in an ancient looking cellar room. ***
Remus Lupin starred at the group around him: Severus Snape; A red-haired man and two younger looking red-heads, obviously his sons; a sharp woman with a stern face and square spectacles; the elderly woman, Arabella Figg, and a huge black dog.
As if time had flashed before them, a young woman stood in place of Arabella. The veiny arms of the elderly woman were replaced by smooth, clear skin. The sight of this silky black-auburn hair was completely opposite of the light wispy gray of Arabella's thin hair. The symbol for "Year of the Snake" was tattooed in black on her moon-pale arm. However, the lady's piercing honey-and-green eyes were identical to those of Mrs. Figg's.
Remus Lupin couldn't help but give a boyish smirk as watched Severus stare at her. It brought a flood of childhood memories. His attention was drawn from Severus' face however, when the strict women with square glasses cleared her throat.
"News, Severus?"
"All in good time, Minerva. First, where is Albus?"
"He can't attend tonight. He is with Hagrid. I suppose that leaves only one of the Order," she said, eyeing the large black dog, "To transform into regular form." ***
It had been many times this group of people had stood there through the late hours of the night and the very early hours of the morning. And it would be many more nights of the same action, for it was an ongoing procedure, and not one of warmth, nor friendliness, nor safety. These meetings were held in secret, in darkness, and always in the shadow of fear. Always there was the chance they would not make it to see another sunrise, and for some of this group, it was more than a chance.