Disclaimer: As previously stated.

Believing the Unbelievable

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Kingsley paced his tiny office quickly, in a state of nervous agitation. The sunken eyes of Sirius Black followed him from every centimeter of space on the wall.

It was easy to imagine his picture in a similar location, plastered up on a wall like a common criminal, hanging from the walls of Rufus' office. Kingsley Shacklebolt, notorious follower of Albus Dumbledore. He may not be a follower of Voldemort, but the decision he was about to make was just as dangerous, and just as much of a betrayal to his people.

Yet he needed to follow his heart.

Seizing a scrap of parchment off of his desk, he scribbled a note.

I want in. I believe you.

-KS

Heart rate rising rapidly, he conjured a small fire on his desk and tossed a pinch of Floo powder into the flames, causing them to transform into dancing green tongues. He fed the note to the fire, whispering "Albus Dumbledore" before it disappeared.

His fate was sealed with the final lick of the flames.

Head in hands and heart still pounding, he considered the events of the past few days that had led him to send the note.

Cornelius setting out for the Third Task. His delayed return to the Ministry, raving about Dumbledore and dead men who could not return to life. The cold, hard look of a man toeing the line of crazy as he told Kingsley what had occurred. The short mission he commissioned to Kingsley, of returning to Hogwarts and interviewing Dumbledore in search of motives.

His quivering voices as he told the Auror that he must not believe the man, no matter what he said.

Dumbledore's elaborately woven tale. And he, Kingsley, filled with shock and disgust, yet an unbelievable belief.

Perhaps the old professor had seen it in his eyes; had known that, as unlikely as the story was, the younger man's conviction and will to fight were strong.

He has invited him to the Order of the Phoenix, a secret organization of his creating. The namesake of the group, a magnificent bird of red plumage, stared at Kingsley as he considered. He could sense the old man's fear, the fear that he had made the wrong choice in inviting a Ministry employee.

Kingsley had stood to leave in a brisk manner, stating that he needed time to consider.

Many pairs of eyes followed him out the door as the paintings on the walls spoke in hushed tones.

And in the present, he sat at his desk, the decision to stand by his boss' adversary ringing in his mind as he waited.

A small fire suddenly erupted and disappeared on his desk, leaving in its wake a new piece of parchment and a red feather. The slanted handwriting carried a surprising message.

If you truly "want in," it is not I that must be believed. It is Harry who told and witnessed these horrid events, and it is Harry you must believe.

As for me, I must be trusted.

-AD

Feeling as though he was standing before a martial congregation, he signed onto the same piece of parchment, "I do."

The paper returned one more time, bearing another potent response.

Harry is the best hope we have; never forget that. You must believe him, no matter what the press speaks against him.

More information to follow.

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix.

Kingsley sighed, wondering if he would be better off focusing his energies on finding the notorious Sirius Black, and battling evil on smaller grounds.

"Although surely, a chase for one would lead to the other," he murmured to the pictures on the walls.

Now his hope rested in the hands of the boy who had lived once again.