Spring 1981
Dearest Sirius,
I've only been back at school for two weeks but I feel the sting of your absence more acutely than before. I guess that's what I get for twisting your wand to kiss me. It's a bit like if you'd never tasted treacle tart because you lived in some sort of desolate wasteland entirely devoid of treacle tart. Except you went on holiday to the land of treacle tart and now that you're back home you feel a terrible void in the pit of your stomach where the treacle tart should be. I hope you enjoy that metaphor because now I find myself not only unkissed but hungry as well.
This reminds me, I have not yet told you of my most recent scrape with your very favorite person, Argus Filch. You have noted before that the key to a Hufflepuff having a good time is the kitchens. I was proving you right by enlisting the elves to bake gillyweed brownies, both for the personal enjoyment of myself and my dorm mates, and for attempting to share with unsuspecting professors. Sounds like a good use of a Saturday, right? It would have been if not for one serious flaw in my plans. The Hogwarts Elves are happy to prepare whatever I ask for and with whatever ingredients I provide, but they are the absolute worst at keeping it under wraps. So of course when Filch was lurking about, looking for fun to ruin, he smelled something suspicious in the kitchens and when he inquired of course those big eared baked good providing twits up and told him it was for me.
Luckily I get to serve my detention with Professor Sprout. She wasn't even mad that I nicked her gillyweed. And I don't mind helping her tend to her plants. The only real downside is the 6th year Ravenclaw who serves detention with me. Gilderoy Lockhart. He's in detention for carving out his own name in 20 foot letters on the Quidditch pitch and then sending up an image of his own face into the sky. That tells you just about all there is to know about Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart. Nonetheless, it's a distraction from how much I miss you.
Do you think it would warrant sneaking into Hogwarts as Padfoot just to satisfy my overwhelming desire to kiss you again (and again and again…)? If you don't I may get into even more trouble and I'll break your record for most detentions in a single term. I know you hate to be shown up.
I love you more than is rational or good for my health.
-Your Devoted Duck, otherwise known as
Marlene Elfrida McKinnon
Dearest Duckling-
Your last letter shows a reckless disregard for the rules. I can't even pretend I'm not impressed. And a little turned on.
I'm terribly sorry that you found yourself thwarted by the most Esteemed and Noble Caretaker, His Royal Filchness. Perhaps he would have benefited from your gillyweed brownies most of all, if you'd been generous enough to share with the likes of him. I wonder if argus Filch has ever had a fun time in his life.
Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart of Ravenclaw House sounds like a lively character. At least you haven't been stuck with someone boring? Though I can imagine hearing him drone on about his own reflection would get tedious after the hilarity of it wore off. Is this the same poncey kid who sent himself 800 valentine's back in my 7th Year? The name sounds familiar and I can imagine that kid progressing to gimmicks involving his own face in the sky.
Though I am loathe to be the cause of your expulsion, I find it impossible to say no to my little duck, I think I can probably manage to meet you by the willow like before, This coming Thursday after curfew. This time with less brewing difficult potions and more kissing. Use the map.
I love you more than Filch loves his cat,
-Your Sirius
Lord Voldemort extends his hand to all those of magical blood. Our most noble lord would prefer that this year be the start of a reign of wizard-kind over lesser beings. For this to be achieved, we must stop the needless spilling of Magical blood. For this reason, The Dark Lord is willing to embrace any wizard who swears loyalty to Him now. You will be forgiven for all past indiscretions and all former quarrels will be forgotten. If any wizard is unwilling to take this most gracious offer then the consequences will be dire for not only them, but for their entire family, from eldest maiden aunt to newborn babe. It is our most sincere wish that this year will be the start of a new era. We look forward to your vows of allegiance in the week to come.
The group gathered round the Potter's dining table was substantial enough to make the room feel small, even though it was maybe a third or less of our numbers. Rumors of a spy had been growing for weeks and every meeting no matter how big or small involved everyone looking around and wondering if the spy was there. Distrust permeated The Order like the brewing of a corrosive poison.
It was worth noting that all four Marauders were present. That hadn't happened since the New Year. Things between Sirius and Remus had been uncomfortable. Sirius felt the sting of distrust from his friend. It was an old wound. He was used to not being trusted. It was part of being a Black. Some part of him felt it was penance. The punishment he endured for the mistakes he'd made while he crawled out of the deep hole his family had left him in. Some of those mistakes directly involved Remus. Maybe he deserved that distrust. It still hurt.
He didn't operate on an entirely rational level, and knew it. He felt like a horrible hypocrite, because he had his own doubts, or at least lingering questions, about Remus's missions with the werewolves. Trust was hard to come by these days.
Also present while Dumbledore read out Voldemort's edict, was the Longbottom couple, who Sirius didn't know well enough to trust or suspect.
The young couple, who were both aurors but also parents of a very young son, looked petrified with fear all the time, but kept the particulars of their suspicions and fears close to their chests, because really, it could be anyone.
Arthur Weasley was there with his younger brother-in-laws, the Prewetts, none of whom rang suspicious to Sirius in any way. There wasn't a wizard on earth who loved Muggles more than Arthur Weasley. Popular opinion held that he was a little bit of a nutter but almost certainly not a spy.
Mad-Eye Moody and his protégé Edgar Bones were in attendance and Sirius would have parted with his own eyeball sooner than suspect either of them were working as hard as they did for both the Aurors and the Order just to turn around and spy for Voldemort. For one thing there's only so much time in the day.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius could see Minerva McGonagall and her tartan robes. She always seemed to understand what he was thinking. It had been deeply irritating when he was in school. It was a comfort now, to know that someone who actually knew what she was doing in this world had his back a bit. She'd been the first person to give him the benefit of the doubt and welcome him into Gryffindor House, while everyone looked on in shock. For Sirius, you didn't get more trustworthy than Minerva McGonagall.
Three McKinnon siblings rounded out their numbers, with only Elaine and Marlene missing due to school and childcare respectively. Sirius's personal feelings about them as a family clouded his judgement there and he knew it. He couldn't bear the thought of any of them betraying The Order. So he wouldn't think of it. Instead he would think of how big of an idiot Lucius Malfoy was. Loudly. And in colorful language.
"Can you believe this tripe? This wanker, Lucius Malfoy, thinks he's so brilliant and all powerful because Voldemort lets him write his letters. You know he's married to a cousin of mine? So by his own logic, he'll need to off himself because I'm telling the Dark Lord to go get fucked."
"It doesn't make a ton of sense, but since when does evil make sense?" Remus sounded more despondent than angry. Sirius preferred angry. Anger at least had hope of getting something done.
James, at least, seemed as angry as Sirius was, even if he wasn't the one throwing around expletives. They could count on James. Sirius could trust James.
Then there was Peter over on the opposite end of the table looking like he might be sick at any moment. His reaction would always be fear. It was just how he operated. But at least Sirius felt could trust in that. Peter Pettigrew would continue to be a rather unimpressive and cowardly soldier, but surely, no one that cowardly could have it in them to spy.
"Whether the logic is sound or not, we have to draw up a response, and that's why we're here. It's important that we stand together and defy him. The whole lot of us signing one letter of refusal will serve our purpose a lot better than you, Sirius Black, personally issuing an insult at the most dangerous Dark Wizard alive."
Dumbledore must have had some sort of subtle magic that he used to make his voice very loud and attention-grabbing. Or maybe he just took elocution lessons or something. Sirius hadn't asked about the particulars but he knew for sure that his voice didn't do that.
"I suppose that's fair. He really should go get fucked though."
"Isn't he fucking your cousin, mate?" Peter mumbled under his breath.
Sirius rolled his eyes, but was secretly a little glad someone had managed to keep a bit of their sense of humor through all this.
"That's enough! Draw up your bloody letter and we'll sign it and carry on. He can't have expected any of us to turn coat at this point, so it was a purely political move. Probably at Malfoy's behest. He's the politician amongst the cronies. Albus, will you be writing the letter or am I going to have to do it myself?"
Mad-Eye Moody had clearly not been to elocution lessons. He was, however, abjectly terrifying. Nearly everyone present felt very grateful at that moment that he was on their side. The guy could have put someone in St. Mungos for a week with just a look.
A politician, he was not. But Mad-Eye knew that as well as any of us and was only threatening to write the letter so Dumbledore would get things moving. It was quite effective.
"I will not be authoring our response myself and neither shall you Alastor. Edgar? You're the most senior member here from an old wizarding family. I trust you remember how to work a quill. Get to work."
Dumbledore had James bring Edgar Bones a quill and paper in short order. If Edgar had any thoughts or feelings about Dumbledore's order, he kept it to himself. He started drafting the collective response of The Order of the Phoenix to the edict issued by Voldemort.
While he was doing so, Peter got even twitchier than was usual for him (which was no small feat) and mumbled something about his watch going off and his mother as he left the meeting before it's finish.
Sirius has personally encountered old lady Pettigrew and found it unsurprising that Peter feared her. She was only a little softer around the edges than Mad-Eye.
The rest just sort of waited around while Edgar concentrated on putting the right words together on parchment.
Looking around at everyone, in that moment, Sirius noticed how tired everyone looked. Most of this group were still in their 20s, but no one had even a drop of youthful energy left in them.
Remus, in particular, looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Sirius wondered what he'd been doing at night and why he hadn't confided in his friends. But he caught himself going down that road and tried to keep his thoughts from turning on one of his oldest friends.
After everyone present signed the scroll, Dumbledore took it to collect the signatures that he thought were vital to drive the point home. He'd find Dorcas Meadows and Hestia Jones. Andromeda Tonks if possible. The names that all Voldemort's followers would recognize as purebloods thumbing their noses at their edict.
Dearest Sirius,
Your last letter sounded really bleak. I'm sorry that I'm not there to bear the brunt of this war with you. I wish I'd left school early. I know it sounds nonsensical, because I've always gotten high marks, but I feel like it's all so pointless when the world looks like it does. What does it matter if I get a transfiguration NEWT when we're on the brink of a full on death eater takeover? I've come this far though and it's only a few more months.
Which reminds me, I'll have Easter week off as per usual and I wondered if I could come stay with you? I'd much prefer it that way. Staying at school is an option of course, and I could stay with my mum and dad. I just thought after last holiday it would be nice to have some time together where we aren't interrupted by my various family members every 5 minutes. We weren't really alone together at any point during that visit. Was that intentional? You'll let me know what you think about my staying with you. I'm only about a meter and a half tall, thus I don't take up much space. The only thing is that my hair has been known to attack.
Carolyn is still waxing lyrical about Mr. F. Prewett, despite your generously arranging for the pair to be at the same place at the same time. Now she refuses to shut up about how shiny his hair is up close. It is rather shiny. Much shinier than her fervent admirer, Barty Crouch Jr. His hair is not shiny in the least. He's actually sort of creepy. I know his dad is the head of MLE and all, but he seems to be coming unhinged. He should probably join a drama troupe or something and get the attention that he clearly craves. Whatever he does, I hope it involves staying away from my friend. I put my best effort into dissuading his continued pestering just recently. This effort earned me a week of detentions.
Sometimes I think Professor McGonagall gives me detention just because she enjoys my company. I wish she would just ask me to tea or something. I'm feeling very persecuted. I've never once been caught in a broom cupboard tryst or the like (because you didn't know that I existed when you were in school. Tragic). I've hardly ever blown anything up. Yet I've gotten 4 separate weeks of detentions with Professor McGonagall for various offenses this year. Then another 2 with Sprout. All I did this time was make Crouch grow bright pink hair out of his ears and nose if he got within 3 meters of Carolyn. Which inevitably he did. It was actually a fun bit of magic and I think McGonagall was secretly a little impressed. She asked after you yesterday. She said that you probably could benefit from a Hufflepuff in your life. I decided to take that as a compliment. She clearly has a soft spot for you. It's sweet and all but could you please tell your other girlfriend to stop giving me these unjust detentions?
I miss you. If you were here I'd drag you to a broom cupboard and earn a 7th week of detentions.
I love you more than Gilderoy Lockhart loves Gilderoy Lockhart,
-Your Marlene
Dearest Duckling-
As far as your Easter holiday is concerned, you know that I'd never say no. I've already started a countdown that caused james to make a face. He's probably just jealous because his life is consumed with changing nappies and being a responsible adult and I get to be young and in love.
I've spoken to Minerva about her subjecting you to All these detentions. You appear to be correct that she's enjoying your time together. She says we are well matched and she approves but that if we should ever have a child that she's retiring from the teaching profession.
Would our hypothetical offspring be a puppy or a duckling? Perhaps something in between? Would that be a niffler? That sounds about right. Nifflers can really cause a ruckus and perhaps Minerva would be right to avoid being subjected to that. Of course this is all assuming that you'd even want to have my nifflers. (That's a sentence I never envisioned myself writing.)
On a graver note, I heard just yesterday about the disappearance of Gawain's Fiancée and I felt sick. Edgar is clearly doing all he can, but it angers me that magical Law Enforcement refuses to devote any resources to investigating the disappearance of a squib. I told Gawain that I was willing to help in any way that I could. You might remind him that I genuinely mean that. I'm not above going on a mission that was not expressly assigned by Dumbledore. Your family is the biggest lot of Badgers I've ever encountered and i love them. Even Gawain.
I need to get back to work, James is giving me a look.
I love you and miss you to an undignified degree,
Sirius