Chapter 39

CALM BEFORE THE STORM

I spent the following days exploring the castle of Durmstrang. Many of the classrooms had an unnerving atmosphere, making it hard to imagine the castle being such a merry place for its students as Hogwarts was for its own. In the dungeons there were massive laboratories that were used mainly by the staff. I examined the magical engines I had found with curiosity and wondered whether they had something to do with Necromancy, a magical art so Dark that even the Russian People's Commissariat for Magic had an apprehensive approach towards it. (But of course it was possible it just wanted to monopolise the use of it.)

Karkaroff was working in the library where he chose the books we would take with us. Many were written in a language that was some kind of an offshoot from Church Slavonic. It was the lingua franca of most of the Slavic wizarding nations, and Karkaroff began to teach it to me along with the Cyrillic script. With the use of Legilimency it was a very effective process, and the fact that magical vocabulary was similar in most languages was of much help.

We considered Durmstrang too dangerous a place to stay overnight. Karkaroff returned each evening to one of his hideouts, and I put up my tent in certain tranquil places; there was no reason to stick together, especially when the Death Eaters were seeking only one of us from those parts. While out of Durmstrang, I gathered magical herbs that did not grow in Britain. I also used the Summoning Charm to forage so many cloudberries that my stomach eventually began to ache from gobbling them. But even though life in the northern paradise was delightful, my curiosity itched: I would rather have used the time to investigate the secrets for which Durmstrang had its secretive policy.

I would have wanted to continue sneaking around the castle and hiss at everything with Parseltongue just in case, but Karkaroff was very insistent that we departed as quickly as possible. I had to admit that he was right, because both Voldemort and the Russian officials might turn up at any moment. And so, after just a few days we left with my trunk absolutely full of books and other artefacts, my pockets full of herbs and my stomach full of cloudberries. It was already August, and much might have happened in Britain.

While I had been away, Dobby had purchased a new home for me. It was formerly a Muggle house in a rural part of southern England, but a couple of wizards had renovated it thoroughly to match the standards of a wealthy wizard. Since I had become more experienced in Apparating, there was no reason for me to have a house in Diagon Alley anymore; my previous home had been primarily a status symbol as a means to make an impression on the pure-blood aristocracy, but now that the British high society was no longer a safe place for me because many of its members had rejoined Voldemort, the status symbol had become useless.

I sent Karkaroff to plan a teaching and training programme for me. I myself began to find out if anything important had happened during my tour, starting with my mail that Dobby had received and kept safe. My NEWT results, something that I had totally forgotten to expect, were a row of twelve Outstandings. I nodded without feeling anything in particular and proceeded to open the three letters that Harry had written to me.

In the first one he complained about Dumbledore's new safety precautions which meant that he was not allowed to visit Diagon Alley or any other part of wizarding world with the help of Dobby. In the second one he seemed even angrier and asked if I could do anything about his situation. Then he had remembered that I had left for my post-graduation tour and wrote in the third letter that he would try to endure his infuriating isolation in Little Whinging.

The pile of unread Daily Prophets was disheartening, but (probably thanks to by Outstanding Divination skills) I had expected it and told Dobby to read them through and mark all interesting articles and announcements. However, Dobby's understanding of what counted as interesting was weird to say the least; for example, he had marked things like announcements of flea markets. But among them was something that was, on second thought, somewhat interesting and even suspicious. A collector named Wulfric was willing to pay ridiculous amounts of gold for old signet rings. This announcement had Dobby's words written next to it: Master Tom has a ring!

There was nothing on the front pages of the Prophets about Death Eater attacks or reports of gatherings by Dark creatures. It was as if wizarding Britain was in a state of coma; the feeling of an approaching storm that I had felt the previous summer had become even more palpable. It was like a suffocating heat wave that was coming to an end as a massive black cloud was about to cover the sky.

Something was going on, even if the public was unaware of it. I wanted to find a better source of information than the Daily Prophet, and after a short deliberation I decided to visit the Weasleys. I did not actually know Mr and Mrs Weasley, I had never even spoken to them, but they knew I was a friend of their four youngest children. No doubt they would welcome me to The Burrow, especially if Harry was already there after the necessary month of refreshing the blood wards of Privet Drive.

It turned out that I was able to Apparate to Ottery St Catchpole despite never having been there before; either it was enough that I had experienced the place many times while using Legilimency on Harry, Ginny and Ron, or maybe it was because I had been there for a while as a diary. Unfortunately, the visit was short and fruitless: The Burrow was surrounded by fresh and powerful wards, but the house seemed empty. At first I thought it might have been just an illusion, but most likely it was not. The road to the house was overgrown with grass; a few branches had fallen on it, but no one had been there to pick them up. Also my Infrared Seeing Charm offered no new information, such as warm air coming through the boundary of the wards above the house, indicating a fireplace being used. And why would the Weasleys pretend not being home if they wanted to avoid intruders?

Well, the Weasleys were not my only possible source of information. I wrote a letter to Remus and asked him to meet me.

Remus and I decided to meet in Diagon Alley the next day, but it had to be a secret meeting by two agents during wartime. I had fun designing myself an inconspicuous disguise: I assumed the appearance of a short, slightly overweight man with almost no shoulders or chin, but with round spectacles and a tidy hair with a side parting. As I looked into the mirror, I thought I looked like a timid, spineless accountant. No one would want to look at me twice – except perhaps some very Slytherin people who knew that spies and assassins would want to look like timid, spineless accountants. Luckily, such people were rare and they were unlikely to spend time in Diagon Alley watching other people.

There was a remarkably grey wizard sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. His hair and beard were grey, his wrinkled skin had become grey and he wore grey robes. He was reading The Quibbler; not something most people wanted to be seen doing. I sat down at the same table with him and stuttered,

"Excuse me, sir… I've lost my ledger. Have you happened to seen one?"

The grey wizard eyed me suspiciously.

"What was the first thing I gave you?"

"Chocolate for Dementor exposure," I answered without hesitation.

"Correct," probably-Remus said.

"Why did you think I would fit in Gryffindor?" I asked.

"You think it's unfair that people disturb Boggarts for educational purposes," certainly-Remus said.

"Correct."

We both nodded in confirmation, and Remus cast the Anti-Eavesdropping Charm.

"You seem to have moved," he said and looked over my shoulder. The house I used to live in was some distance down the alley. I had not dared even to peek in, because the house might be booby-trapped by Voldemort. "A clever decision. Many people are planning to do so."

"Yes, I tried to visit the Weasleys, but they were not home."

Remus shifted on his seat uncomfortably, unaware of how much such a gesture could tell to an observant Slytherin, and changed the subject.

"How was your tour? Where did you travel to, anyway?"

"It was extremely refreshing, both literally and figuratively. I'm now quite familiar with the arctic wilderness of north-western Russia."

"Why did you travel there? Was it – er – inspiring?"

"Well, it certainly inspired me to craft the Gnat and Mosquito Repelling Charm. I had to give it a very large range, because having those bugs buzzing around you is unbearable even if they can't actually reach you and suck you dry. I learned it the hard way that the Supersensory Charm under those conditions is almost suicide."

"I'm sure it is," Remus chuckled.

"What have you been doing? Are there any news concerning the war that's coming?"

"Ah – well, I've been doing this and that… preparations, of course…" he babbled while obviously weighing on how much to tell me.

"Please, be open with me," I snorted. "It's not like I don't know that Dumbledore has reconstituted the Order of the Phoenix. He did speak about it in my presence, after all. You're obviously a member, because Dumbledore tasked you with guarding Harry after the third task. I expect you to tell me everything."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not authorised to do so. Surely you know how these things are done. I can't just tell you everything because you already know much. I'll have to ask Dumbledore."

"All right, ask him. I'm a little bit insulted that he hasn't already invited me to join the Order. Why hasn't he?"

"First of all, you were in Russia."

"He could've written to me."

"We're careful with what we write in letters. They can be intercepted."

I got the feeling he was offering these excuses so that he would not need to tell me the real reason.

"All right, what can you tell me? What've you been doing?"

"It's obvious you would be able to guess correctly," Remus said. "I've been in contact with other werewolves. Dumbledore doesn't want them to support Voldemort as they did last time."

"They're certainly thrilled about the fact that Dumbledore offers them the hand of friendship now, after wasting over thirteen years worth of opportunities," I commented dryly, making Remus wince. "A true friend wouldn't be concerned about your rights and well-being only when you're being given other offers of friendship."

"You know," Remus said quite sadly, "I'd call that good thinking… if I hadn't grown absolutely tired listening to it." He sighed heavily. "So far I've achieved very little for that very reason. Once in a while I've been guarding Harry in Little Whinging. Moody thought it was a waste of effort, but then – can you believe it – Harry was attacked by two rogue Dementors!"

"So, it's begun," I muttered darkly. "Good thing you taught him the Patronus." I was still as helpless against Dementors as always, and the thought that they would roam free was what concerned me the most about Voldemort's return.

"In the end, Harry had to defend himself, because Mundungus Fletcher had left his guard duty. Now he's not in danger anymore, because he has been relocated to a safe place. However, he's got to visit the Ministry for a hearing for breaking the underage sorcery law and the Statute of Secrecy. Another thing that I've been up to is investigating the case of Sirius Black."

"Did Dumbledore give you that mission?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Ordering someone to investigate the crimes of an old friend who had turned traitor was in terribly poor taste.

"No, it's actually my own choice. You see, something doesn't add up. I've been thinking about all the strange things Sirius has done after escaping from Azkaban, and I've begun to think he might be innocent."

"What? Have you forgotten the part where he attacked Harry's dormitory in the middle of the night and almost stabbed him to death?"

"No, but I've been thinking that what you said wasn't the case at all. It was Ron's bed he targeted – and that's where Peter was. Sirius continued his attack, but fled immediately after Peter turned into a rat and ran. What if Sirius was not after Harry, but Peter?"

"You mean Black wanted to kill Pettigrew for being a Death Eater?"

"Yes. If Sirius was one too, why didn't he go to the graveyard in June? Harry told me about Voldemort's speech to the Death Eaters, and he didn't even mention Sirius."

"But Black was still the one who betrayed Harry's parents… unless you think he wasn't the actual Secret Keeper?"

"I've pondered everything Sirius has done after Lily and James were killed, and his being innocent explains his actions much better than his being a traitor," Remus said emphatically. "I'm not saying I'm sure about this, but I think it's worth trying to contact him and give him the opportunity to tell his side of the story."

To me this theory sounded a bit far-fetched, wishful thinking of a man who had lost all his friends, but, admittedly, I had a habit of not seeing the good in people. Some innocents were judged unfairly (Black had not been judged at all, just sent to Azkaban without a trial); there was always the possibility that my preconception was wrong. Draco Malfoy, for example, had turned out to be a more decent fellow than I had thought at first, had he not?

"Well, good luck with that," I said. "Someone cast the Portkey Charm on the Triwizard Cup in the maze, but we never found out who or how. I thought it was unlikely that Black had done it because of the strict safety measures. I'm sure it wasn't Karkaroff. That leaves Snape or some yet unknown agent pulling the strings."

Remus nodded. "Moody is working with that investigation. He's quite frazzled, you know. We don't have enough people to do what we need to be done, but we can't be too trusting."

"I'm willing to join and do my part. You should go to Dumbledore and inform him. Once I'm a member, you can tell me more."

"All right. He's really busy, but I'll let you know when he's got the time to meet you."

"Good, do it right away. I can't be at ease when I know something important is going on, but I don't know exactly what."

After glancing around we dispelled the Anti-Eavesdropping Charm and spoke a few generic pleasantries before parting ways like two strangers who had just been talking about some nonsense printed in The Quibbler.

The next morning Dobby handed me a slip of parchment containing the words: Same place, same time today. I disguised myself as the pathetic accountant again and Apparated to Diagon Alley.

Enjoying Florean Fortesque's ice creams was the familiar grey wizard and his friend, a teenage boy with messy black hair, green eyes, round spectacles and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead – far too obvious a bait for by-passing Death Eaters. They were laughing together as they drew all kinds of nasty things in a ledger. Acting incensed, I approached them.

"I'm gonna get fired for that!" I cried, almost weeping.

The familiar-looking boy turned his eyes on me. The disguise was perfect except for a twinkle in the eyes very characteristic for someone who was not Harry Potter. He had most likely deliberately left that one thing not disguised.

"What was the first thing we talked about?" he asked.

The existence of the wizarding world, then the things I had stolen from the other orphans and hidden in the cupboard that you set on FIRE.

"The replacement of Peregrine Derrick as a Slytherin prefect," I said aloud. "What did I give you for Christmas in 1993?"

"Socks," Dumbledore said, beaming. "I have never thanked you properly, Mr Accountant, but it was a spectacular present!"

"Thanks. I take you've confirmed the identity of Mr Grey?"

"Yes, I have. Please, sit down and enjoy."

Dumbledore beckoned Mr Fortesque to bring a luxurious ice cream to me. Luckily, I had realised a possible reason Dumbledore had wanted to meet me in that very place, and I had taken a dose of the antidote to Veritaserum. If I was meeting a recruit wanting to join my paramilitary organisation, I would make him speak honestly.

Once the Anti-Eavesdropping Charm was put in place again, Dumbledore looked at me intently.

"So, Tom, Remus told me you want to ask me for something."

"I'm willing to join the Order of the Phoenix," I said. "I ask for you to accept me in."

"Why do you want to join?"

"Wizarding Britain is heading towards another civil war. I told you after the third task that I'd like this conflict to be settled as quickly as possible and with as few casualties as possible. I'm a capable fighting wizard and I don't want to be one of those who complain about what should be done but are too cowardly to do it themselves."

Dumbledore raised his (or, rather, Harry's) eyebrows. "No ideological reasons?"

"Ideology is overrated," I said, shrugging. "Besides, I think maintaining peace is a goal too important to be jeopardised with ideological disputes. We shouldn't imply that your opposing party is not welcome to join our campaign for the Gre… uh… common good."

"Well said!" Dumbledore commented. "The Order is badly in need of new members, especially people with your talents and connections. However, our situation is worse than you might think."

He glanced at Remus who was silently enjoying his ice cream.

"We were too trustful during the last war," Dumbledore admitted. "We needed more people to fight against Voldemort, but we allowed Black and Pettigrew into our ranks, which proved disastrous. This time we have learned from that mistake, and we are more cautious. But still… it pains me to say this, but it seems likely we have someone spying for Voldemort among us."

"Snape!" I interrupted.

"Alastor suspects him as well, but Severus has my fullest confidence, as I already told you," Dumbledore said.

That's exactly what makes him the perfect spy, I wanted to say, but kept quiet. There was nothing I could do to change the mind of this old fool.

"Severus has put himself into a terrible danger by returning to Voldemort and pretending to be one of his Death Eaters. I have given him some seemingly important pieces of information to give to Voldemort so that he would consider him useful, but Severus has been far more useful to us."

Is it so inconceivable to think that he would spill a few more secrets than you allow him?

"However, somehow Voldemort knows more about what is happening inside the Order than he should."

Gee, I wonder why!

"He has been surprisingly distant with Severus, even after having been given one genuinely important secret that I was initially very unwilling to let him know. I have deliberated this matter with Severus, and it seems likely that Voldemort is playing with us. He has a spy within the Order, one who gives him much more important information than Severus, but he allows Severus to be among the other Death Eaters as a show. He does not want us to realise there is a real spy among us."

You know, sometimes things are as simple as they seem to be.

"Alastor is very worried about the situation and would not like us to accept anyone into our ranks before the spy is found. Considering this is our situation, you must understand why I have not been active with recruiting you – or many new people in general."

"Surely you can trust me," I said. "No one in their right mind could consider me a more likely Death Eater than Snape."

"Well, Tom, the fact is that we know so very little about you," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling with an unsettling gleam. "You moved to Britain just two years ago and were very quickly one of Harry's closest friends. I do not know your previous school – I did not even know such a school existed – and I do not know your parents or any other family. You are good friends also with some children of Death Eaters, and a year ago you were a celebrated member of the high society where Lucius Malfoy, Theodore Nott and Robert Jugson are prominent members. I do not judge anyone evil because of things like these, but Alastor is different. I cannot deny it that if I had been as cautious during the last war as he is, the betrayals of Black and Pettigrew might never have happened. That is why I am now much more willing to listen to Alastor's advice, even when it seems too paranoid. Maybe I am just unable to see the signs of danger – but even I am aware of it that it is wise to know someone very thoroughly indeed before accepting him into a secret society that deals with issues of life and death."

Dumbledore was far too close to asking about my background, and I decided to play my trump card.

"I saved Harry from the graveyard. Even if I was a Death Eater sympathiser, there's no way Voldemort would welcome me into his ranks. He'd be more likely to cast the Cruciatus Curse on me. I've already chosen my side in this war, and whether I like it or not, there's no turning back."

"Yes, and that is the reason I am allowing you to join the moment you ask," Dumbledore said graciously. "But still, Alastor is not happy with this. Knowing him, he has considered the possibility that everything you have done has been just a show to gain our trust."

I blinked. Perhaps it really was a possibility worth considering for someone who did not know what I knew about my own actions. I could have used the Imperius Curse on Krum and the Portkey Charm on the Triwizard Cup in the maze without anyone noticing. Moody had been scanning the Quidditch stadium for Sirius Black and he had surely been watching Snape, making it almost impossible for anyone to tamper with the cup. The only other even slightly feasible possibility was that Moody had done it himself, but it was ridiculous. Fighting against Dark wizards was his whole life. He was the last person to join their cause, not to mention one of those Voldemort would never allow joining.

"Uh… somehow I think this kind of mistrust is just what Voldemort wants to create among his enemies," I said. "If I was up to no good, I would've abducted Harry last summer. It's not like I needed to wait for the third task. Or, if I had turned evil sometime during the school year, I could have come up with a simpler plan. I could've said to Harry that we should sneak out of Hogwarts to honour the mischievous memory of his father, and then I would've abducted him."

"That is what I argued with Alastor," Dumbledore said, smiling. "It did not convince him. But do not take it personally. Nothing convinces him. I am sure he studies my actions with suspicion as well."

"So, am I a member now? Is there a formal procedure for a recruit?"

"I do not care about theatrics," Dumbledore said. "You are a member. Now we must introduce you to our Headquarters; consider it a formal procedure, if you will. The Headquarters is being protected by the Fidelius Charm, and I am the Secret Keeper. This is the secret that I want you to know from now on: the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found in Greenane Castle, County Tipperary, Ireland."

"What is the place?" I asked.

"It is an old, unused building that the Ministry inherited from a hermit two hundred years ago," Dumbledore said. "It had not been used in a long time and I purchased it from the Ministry during the last war. It was not as storage back then, but I made it our new Headquarters since the original one had been destroyed shortly before the end of the last war."

"Thanks to Peter, I guess," Remus said, grimacing.

"Now that we have finished our ice creams, it is time to visit the place," Dumbledore said, stood up, paid our ice creams to Mr Fortesque and then offered his arm to me. Allowing Dumbledore to Side-Along-Apparate me to a place I did not know felt like a very bad idea, but I fought down my instinct that Dumbledore equalled calamity; after all, I had asked for membership in the Order. I grabbed his arm, and in a whirlwind of Apparition we disappeared from Diagon Alley.

Posted on the 3rd of April, 2021.