Hi, guys. I hope you all had a great Christmas. I'm sorry I didn't post over the holidays, but I've been away in Switzerland and the only Wi-Fi signal was a lie. Anyway, Happy 2012!
Chapter 8
Resolutions and Regrets
The Writer scrunched up another piece of paper, the ink staining her hand. Making lists of what to cut back on for the New Year was hard – half of it she knew full well she wouldn't keep to. Mixing this with writing was probably one of the worst ideas she'd ever had.
Another ball of paper ended up in the waste paper basket. Christmas had been a good break away, but getting back into routine was slow-going. Snape had been away as well, or, that's what she presumed, as he hadn't replied to the note she sent by owl.
Turing to look out of the window, she noticed a black dot in the sky – could it be? The first new volunteer of 2012 was on their way now? She barely had time to plan anything, but that didn't matter – she'd make do.
The owl landed on the windowsill, handed her the letter in its beak, demanded an owl nut as a reward and then took off again.
"Straight to the point, as always..." she muttered as she watched the bird fly away, absentmindedly opening up the piece of paper as she did so.
"Writer,
I apologise for my absence over the holidays, but the Dark Lord required the Death Eaters at Malfoy Manor. Nothing came of the plan, as usual, apart from a large amount of the place almost being burned to the ground, Lucius and Narcissa had a shouting match they later referred to as a 'discussion' and Bellatrix lost her eyebrows. The least said the better, in other words.
Getting onto the point, the next volunteer is on his way – he believes he's recruiting you into the Order. Ask a few questions, look interested, even if he's boring you off the face of this Earth.
And another thing – he's fascinated by Muggles. If possible, keep any expensive technology out of reach. He'll most likely try to take it apart to see how it works.
Severus"
"'Fascinated by Muggles..." the Writer read, grinning, "well, there's only one person that could be."
The Writer removed her video camera from the shelf closest the door and shut it away in a cupboard. Satisfied with no expensive, breakable technology present, she poured herself a mug of tea, refilled and switched on the kettle, sat back and waited for her visitor.
She didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later, she opened the door to see Arthur Weasley stood outside. Letting him in, she pulled out the chair at her desk, offering it to him.
"Well, what made you want to join the Order in the first place?" he asked.
"I want to fight for what is good," she told him simply, before feigning surprise, "oh, I didn't offer you a drink, I'm sorry. Let me make you some tea, it's bitterly cold out there."
The kettle clicked off and the Writer rose to make it – with the usual Veritaserum for good measure. She was going to have to replace the vial soon.
"Thanks," Arthur sipped his tea. Then he looked down and noticed the bin full of bits of paper, "what's that?"
The Writer glanced at her old notes, "My attempts at New Year's Resolutions."
"I've heard of that. It's a Muggle thing, isn't it? They try to think up a promise of sorts to keep throughout the year. I hear few people manage it."
"That sounds about right. I never really think about it," the Writer replied.
Arthur gulped his tea, "I made a 'Resolution' last year. I decided I was going to make more Muggle friends, so I did."
The Writer leaned forward a little, not wanting to appear too eager, "How did that turn out?"
"Well...we have a lot of fun, but they mainly get me drunk, so a lot of the time I can't remember things I did – I'm sure the memory is back there somewhere, though. They showed me this 'video' of me driving this vehicle – what was it called? – oh, yes, a 'golf cart'. They had a 'video' of me driving this 'golf cart' down a long Muggle road...what do Muggles call it...? Oh, yes, the M25!"
The Writer spat her tea back into the mug, slapping her hand on the desk. Arthur continued, undisturbed by her behaviour, but also possibly because he was unable to stop himself.
"They also take me to all sorts of clubs, as well. But that's when I have a drink too many and wake up on the sofa at home. Molly isn't the least sympathetic, either..."
The Writer got up, sneaking her wand into her pocket as she did so, in the pretence that she was going to make another cup of tea. When she was behind him, out of sight, she pointed the wand at him.
"Obliviate," she muttered.
Informing him that he'd "come looking for someone but got the wrong office", the Writer helped Arthur on his way, before settling down behind her desk.
"The New Year's in and I'm back in business!"
