After dinner Harry made his way to the Headmaster's office. The stone
gargoyle guarding the entrance came into view, and Harry realized he didn't
know the password.
"Erm," he began as he got near the entrance, but to his surprise when the gargoyle saw him coming he leapt aside immediately. Harry cautiously sidled past him, murmuring thanks. He rode the moving spiral staircase, and nervously knocked at the great oak door.
"Open sesame," called Dumbledore from inside. The door opened by itself, and Harry stepped into Dumbledore's office.
The wizard himself was sitting at his desk, writing on a parchment in dark red ink. He looked up and smiled at Harry, standing in his doorway.
"Good, the gargoyle let you in. Please come in, Harry. Here, sit down."
Dumbledore conjured up a wing-backed armchair across the desk, and Harry sat, feeling apprehensive.
The scroll and quill vanished, and Dumbledore fixed Harry with his blue gaze. "Harry, I think you can guess why I asked you to come speak with me."
"The snakes," sighed Harry. "The snakes in the Forbidden Forest."
"Exactly. I've already listened what Hagrid could get out of it, and of course I keep in contact with the centaurs. But none of them understood what you did, Harry, so I want to hear from you what happened. Include everything, omit nothing, please."
So Harry recounted the events of the afternoon to Dumbledore, all that he remembered of his dialogue with the python. He was surprised and a little worried to watch Dumbledore's face getting increasingly grim. When Harry finished Dumbledore was frowning, and mumbling to himself.
"Summoned!" he muttered, seemingly having forgotten Harry's presence. "What sort of devilry could he be up to. summoned! And ready to pledge allegiance to a fifteen-year-old boy. But if he is here, then they could be."
All of a sudden he became aware of Harry, sitting in the wing-backed armchair, staring at him. His clouded brow cleared and Harry was relieved to see him smile. "Well, you don't need to listen to that. Sometimes I just get lost in my thoughts."
This reminded Harry of Dumbledore's generous birthday gift. "Oh, Professor Dumbledore, I almost forgot to thank you for the Pensieve you sent at my birthday."
"You're very welcome. Have you begun to use it yet?"
"Yes. it's rather more complicated than I realized."
"I'm sure you can master the technique with some practise. All it takes is practise, Harry, and the wrist movement, and the mind power. Once you get to my age, and you have decades of memories crammed into your head, you'll find your Pensieve indispensable."
Harry wanted to ask exactly what age Dumbledore was, but thought it would be rude, so he changed the subject. "Professor, may I ask you something? Why didn't anyone tell me about Mrs. Figg? Why didn't I know that this witch was living two blocks away, who could have told me about my being a wizard at any time? Was it to protect me, or something like that? Or just keeping it from me?"
Dumbledore looked surprised. "Why, Harry, it wasn't that anyone wanted to keep things from you, and of course it wasn't to protect you; you know Arabella Figg well enough to realize that she poses no dangers whatsoever. But at her request, no one mentioned to you that she was a witch. I believe she wanted you to figure out by yourself. And you did find out on your own, which pleased her. Arabella is quite fond of you, Harry. She wanted you to grow up on your own, to experience things for yourself."
"But- but if she had told me I was a wizard years ago, I would never have had to suffer living with my cousin Dudley and my Muggle relatives!"
"And you would have turned out to be a completely different person," returned Dumbledore gently. "If you had been cosseted and spoiled in your youth, you might not have turned out much differently than the cousin you speak of so disparagingly."
Harry let this sink in for a minute. "I suppose in the long run, it was better that I didn't know I was a wizard," he said at last grudgingly. "But I never knew Mrs. Figg was nice at all. She acted nasty for so many years."
Dumbledore chuckled. "It was an act, Harry. She may have had her own reasons for alienating you, though I don't know them. But she's been watching out for you ever since I placed you on that doorstep, years ago. She warded away dangers, she collected your fan mail-"
"I never got any fan mail," interrupted Harry.
"Exactly. She kept it, to save you from getting a swelled head. Arabella Figg has been sort of like a guardian to you through your childhood. But perhaps for modesty's sake, she never wanted you to know it."
Harry was thinking. "What kind of dangers did you mean?"
Dumbledore paused thoughtfully. "Well. I don't know."
Harry watched him. "Did someone ask you to keep it a secret?" He couldn't keep the resentment out of his voice.
Dumbledore sighed. "If you really must know. there have been fourteen separate attempts on your life this past summer."
Harry stared at him, bereft of speech.
"We didn't tell you because we didn't want you to panic."
Harry found his voice. "Panic? Who, me? I'm perfectly calm. Assassinations, you said? By who?"
"Various followers of Voldemort. Our stakeout missions actually uncovered a number of double agents, whom we had thought were loyal to our side." His voice was sad.
"But-" Harry's head was spinning. "Fourteen?"
"Five in July and nine in August."
"August? But Mrs. Figg was away all that month. How could she protect me?"
"It wasn't her personally, Harry. It was-well..." Dumbledore regarded gravely Harry for a few seconds, as if debating a grave decision. "Harry, I am going to tell you one of the best-kept secrets of the Ministry of Magic. It is with great reluctance that I reveal this secret to you. But I will tell you, because I trust you. However, this does not travel outside of these walls. Is this clear? You do not tell Ronald Weasley, you do not tell Hermione Granger. This is a confidence between you and I only. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded mutely, his brain still trying to cope with the news about the assassination attempts.
Dumbledore leaned back in his great armchair. "Harry, Voldemort is evidently not the first evil wizard in history. Evil wizards have been wreaking havoc with the world since time immemorial. They continually succeed each other. It's an inescapable cycle. The dominant evil magical influence before Lord Voldemort was a wizard, by the name of Grindelwald."
"You defeated him in 1945," said Harry, recalling the Chocolate Frogs card he had read about Albus Dumbledore.
"Yes. But that is not the secret. This story has to do with our respective associates-mine and Grindelwald's."
"Associates?" repeated Harry. "I don't understand."
"My associates were good witches and wizards who, like me, wanted to defeat Grindelwald. He, in his turn, called his group his Black Beasts. Every evil wizard has a faction of followers-but so do good wizards, generally."
"Like you," Harry said.
"Well, yes, like me. And that is the secret, Harry-the Order of the Phoenix."
"The Order of the Phoenix?"
"Yes, exactly. The Order of the Phoenix is an elite company of Britain's top Aurors, defense strategists, and experts in several fields of study. It was founded jointly by the Minister of Magic and myself in 1935, when Grindelwald began his ascent to power. The Order is part of the Dark Force Defense League, a subdivision of the Mysteries department in the Ministry of Magic."
"So the Order of the Phoenix is made of wizards who wanted to defeat Grindelwald?"
"Yes, originally. And we succeeded in 1945. But later Voldemort's Death Eaters emerged on the scene, and the Order of the Phoenix changed targets. We will be here forever to fight the new enemy, Harry. As time goes on and evil succeeds evil, some of our members may die or drop out, but there will always be new Phoenixes to replace them."
"Who are the Phoenixes? How do I know who's in the Order?"
"Watch closely now." The Headmaster held out his right hand. Harry stared at the unadorned fingers. Using the index finger and thumb of his left hand, Dumbledore touched the opposite sides of the base of his right-hand little finger and moved them clockwise. Then a line of gold appeared where his fingers slid over the skin, a gold ring that blazed almost brightly enough to hurt Harry's eyes.
Dumbledore slid it off his finger and handed it to Harry. Harry closed his fingers over the ring. It was surprisingly light in his hand and exuded a kind of inner heat. He opened his hand and exmined the ring. It was shiny and the surface was completely untarnished, save the inside, on which was etched a pattern of flames.
"A perfect circle of flames of gold," Dumbledore said. "Every member wears a ring, and it can be magically concealed from view if the need arises."
"But who are the Phoenixes?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Well, whom do you think is a member?"
Harry thought. "I've seen those rings on Professor McGonagall and Professor Figg, so they must be members. But otherwise I can't remember them on anyone else."
"I can't tell you the names of every member, because I've already told you a lot of restricted information. But I will tell you that Remus Lupin has recently been made a full-fledged Phoenix. And though Sirius Black could not receive the same acknowledgment-Cornelius Fudge would never hear of it- we consider him one of us, and he secretly takes on undercover missions for our side."
"Lupin? And Sirius?" Harry was stunned. "I never knew-they didn't tell me."
"Do you think they would jeopardize themselves like that? Harry, even I shouldn't be telling you. But I want you to be able to recognize your friends among your many foes. Friends like the teachers at this school-not all of them are in the Order or even know about it, but consider them safe." He paused. "And though they are no longer with us, I can tell you that your parents had just joined our junior ranks before they went into hiding with you."
"My parents," Harry echoed slowly.
"Yes. Lily and James Potter were two of my apprentices, preparing to become licensed Aurors."
"They were going to be Aurors?"
"They already were, to some extent. They had all the requisite skills, but they had only to pass a test to get their certification. Then they could move up to the senior echelons."
A bright idea occurred to Harry. "If they were both Phoenixes, does that mean I'm a member too?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "Try on the ring and see. It only fits members."
Harry looked at the ring. It was rather big, and he wondered how one ring could fit only members. He tried to put it on his middle finger at first, but it was too small. He jammed it on his little finger, but curiously, it wouldn't even fit there. At last he gave up and sat back.
"It shrinks," he realised in dismay, "on non-members."
Dumbledore smiled and took back the ring. He slipped it easily on his little finger. "You are not a member, Harry. Membership is not passed on from parent to child like an aristocratic title. You have to prove yourself worthy of this ring and the responsibility it symbolizes. But it's not impossible, Harry. Your parents forged a lot of progress towards this goal before they died. You too can earn yourself a place among the nation's greatest Aurors."
Suddenly there came a shout at the door. "Albus! News! Open sesame!"
The door burst open and a beautiful young witch ran in, looking agitated. She had waist-length chestnut hair and dark brown eyes. On her right hand burned the dazzling golden brilliance of the Phoenix ring, and on her left hand was a diamond engagement ring.
"Perdita?" Dumbledore said, rising to his feet.
"Albus!" gasped the witch. "Not ten minutes ago, a cat saw a rat in a broom closet."
"Minerva saw Peter Pettigrew in the Three Broomsticks Inn?" Dumbledore said excitedly.
"I was speaking in code because of him," Perdita said huffily, jerking her thumb at Harry.
"Perdita, this is Harry Potter. I've told him some things about the Order of the Phoenix. Harry, this is Perdita Clemens."
"Hello," Harry said politely.
"Yes, yes," Perdita muttered, still looking at him suspiciously. Harry felt a twinge of confusion and annoyance. Normally his name and his presence combined never failed to make an impression on magical people, and though he continuously stated that he didn't want to coast through life on the strength of his unwarranted reputation, it surprised him to find that his influence seemed to be fading.
"So you see, Harry, I'm terribly sorry," Dumbledore was saying, and Harry jumped because he hadn't been listening. "But I really must act on this new information."
"It's all right, Professor Dumbledore," Harry said hastily, jumping up. Perdita Clemens was practically bouncing off the walls in her anxiety to be rid of him. "I'll leave now."
"Harry," said Dumbledore, and Harry stopped halfway to the door. "Thank you for telling me about this afternoon. It is very valuable information. But please, if you should happen to notice anything else anomalous, come see me at once."
"Yes, Professor. Thank you for.telling me the secret. It's safe with me." And Harry went out.
"Erm," he began as he got near the entrance, but to his surprise when the gargoyle saw him coming he leapt aside immediately. Harry cautiously sidled past him, murmuring thanks. He rode the moving spiral staircase, and nervously knocked at the great oak door.
"Open sesame," called Dumbledore from inside. The door opened by itself, and Harry stepped into Dumbledore's office.
The wizard himself was sitting at his desk, writing on a parchment in dark red ink. He looked up and smiled at Harry, standing in his doorway.
"Good, the gargoyle let you in. Please come in, Harry. Here, sit down."
Dumbledore conjured up a wing-backed armchair across the desk, and Harry sat, feeling apprehensive.
The scroll and quill vanished, and Dumbledore fixed Harry with his blue gaze. "Harry, I think you can guess why I asked you to come speak with me."
"The snakes," sighed Harry. "The snakes in the Forbidden Forest."
"Exactly. I've already listened what Hagrid could get out of it, and of course I keep in contact with the centaurs. But none of them understood what you did, Harry, so I want to hear from you what happened. Include everything, omit nothing, please."
So Harry recounted the events of the afternoon to Dumbledore, all that he remembered of his dialogue with the python. He was surprised and a little worried to watch Dumbledore's face getting increasingly grim. When Harry finished Dumbledore was frowning, and mumbling to himself.
"Summoned!" he muttered, seemingly having forgotten Harry's presence. "What sort of devilry could he be up to. summoned! And ready to pledge allegiance to a fifteen-year-old boy. But if he is here, then they could be."
All of a sudden he became aware of Harry, sitting in the wing-backed armchair, staring at him. His clouded brow cleared and Harry was relieved to see him smile. "Well, you don't need to listen to that. Sometimes I just get lost in my thoughts."
This reminded Harry of Dumbledore's generous birthday gift. "Oh, Professor Dumbledore, I almost forgot to thank you for the Pensieve you sent at my birthday."
"You're very welcome. Have you begun to use it yet?"
"Yes. it's rather more complicated than I realized."
"I'm sure you can master the technique with some practise. All it takes is practise, Harry, and the wrist movement, and the mind power. Once you get to my age, and you have decades of memories crammed into your head, you'll find your Pensieve indispensable."
Harry wanted to ask exactly what age Dumbledore was, but thought it would be rude, so he changed the subject. "Professor, may I ask you something? Why didn't anyone tell me about Mrs. Figg? Why didn't I know that this witch was living two blocks away, who could have told me about my being a wizard at any time? Was it to protect me, or something like that? Or just keeping it from me?"
Dumbledore looked surprised. "Why, Harry, it wasn't that anyone wanted to keep things from you, and of course it wasn't to protect you; you know Arabella Figg well enough to realize that she poses no dangers whatsoever. But at her request, no one mentioned to you that she was a witch. I believe she wanted you to figure out by yourself. And you did find out on your own, which pleased her. Arabella is quite fond of you, Harry. She wanted you to grow up on your own, to experience things for yourself."
"But- but if she had told me I was a wizard years ago, I would never have had to suffer living with my cousin Dudley and my Muggle relatives!"
"And you would have turned out to be a completely different person," returned Dumbledore gently. "If you had been cosseted and spoiled in your youth, you might not have turned out much differently than the cousin you speak of so disparagingly."
Harry let this sink in for a minute. "I suppose in the long run, it was better that I didn't know I was a wizard," he said at last grudgingly. "But I never knew Mrs. Figg was nice at all. She acted nasty for so many years."
Dumbledore chuckled. "It was an act, Harry. She may have had her own reasons for alienating you, though I don't know them. But she's been watching out for you ever since I placed you on that doorstep, years ago. She warded away dangers, she collected your fan mail-"
"I never got any fan mail," interrupted Harry.
"Exactly. She kept it, to save you from getting a swelled head. Arabella Figg has been sort of like a guardian to you through your childhood. But perhaps for modesty's sake, she never wanted you to know it."
Harry was thinking. "What kind of dangers did you mean?"
Dumbledore paused thoughtfully. "Well. I don't know."
Harry watched him. "Did someone ask you to keep it a secret?" He couldn't keep the resentment out of his voice.
Dumbledore sighed. "If you really must know. there have been fourteen separate attempts on your life this past summer."
Harry stared at him, bereft of speech.
"We didn't tell you because we didn't want you to panic."
Harry found his voice. "Panic? Who, me? I'm perfectly calm. Assassinations, you said? By who?"
"Various followers of Voldemort. Our stakeout missions actually uncovered a number of double agents, whom we had thought were loyal to our side." His voice was sad.
"But-" Harry's head was spinning. "Fourteen?"
"Five in July and nine in August."
"August? But Mrs. Figg was away all that month. How could she protect me?"
"It wasn't her personally, Harry. It was-well..." Dumbledore regarded gravely Harry for a few seconds, as if debating a grave decision. "Harry, I am going to tell you one of the best-kept secrets of the Ministry of Magic. It is with great reluctance that I reveal this secret to you. But I will tell you, because I trust you. However, this does not travel outside of these walls. Is this clear? You do not tell Ronald Weasley, you do not tell Hermione Granger. This is a confidence between you and I only. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded mutely, his brain still trying to cope with the news about the assassination attempts.
Dumbledore leaned back in his great armchair. "Harry, Voldemort is evidently not the first evil wizard in history. Evil wizards have been wreaking havoc with the world since time immemorial. They continually succeed each other. It's an inescapable cycle. The dominant evil magical influence before Lord Voldemort was a wizard, by the name of Grindelwald."
"You defeated him in 1945," said Harry, recalling the Chocolate Frogs card he had read about Albus Dumbledore.
"Yes. But that is not the secret. This story has to do with our respective associates-mine and Grindelwald's."
"Associates?" repeated Harry. "I don't understand."
"My associates were good witches and wizards who, like me, wanted to defeat Grindelwald. He, in his turn, called his group his Black Beasts. Every evil wizard has a faction of followers-but so do good wizards, generally."
"Like you," Harry said.
"Well, yes, like me. And that is the secret, Harry-the Order of the Phoenix."
"The Order of the Phoenix?"
"Yes, exactly. The Order of the Phoenix is an elite company of Britain's top Aurors, defense strategists, and experts in several fields of study. It was founded jointly by the Minister of Magic and myself in 1935, when Grindelwald began his ascent to power. The Order is part of the Dark Force Defense League, a subdivision of the Mysteries department in the Ministry of Magic."
"So the Order of the Phoenix is made of wizards who wanted to defeat Grindelwald?"
"Yes, originally. And we succeeded in 1945. But later Voldemort's Death Eaters emerged on the scene, and the Order of the Phoenix changed targets. We will be here forever to fight the new enemy, Harry. As time goes on and evil succeeds evil, some of our members may die or drop out, but there will always be new Phoenixes to replace them."
"Who are the Phoenixes? How do I know who's in the Order?"
"Watch closely now." The Headmaster held out his right hand. Harry stared at the unadorned fingers. Using the index finger and thumb of his left hand, Dumbledore touched the opposite sides of the base of his right-hand little finger and moved them clockwise. Then a line of gold appeared where his fingers slid over the skin, a gold ring that blazed almost brightly enough to hurt Harry's eyes.
Dumbledore slid it off his finger and handed it to Harry. Harry closed his fingers over the ring. It was surprisingly light in his hand and exuded a kind of inner heat. He opened his hand and exmined the ring. It was shiny and the surface was completely untarnished, save the inside, on which was etched a pattern of flames.
"A perfect circle of flames of gold," Dumbledore said. "Every member wears a ring, and it can be magically concealed from view if the need arises."
"But who are the Phoenixes?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Well, whom do you think is a member?"
Harry thought. "I've seen those rings on Professor McGonagall and Professor Figg, so they must be members. But otherwise I can't remember them on anyone else."
"I can't tell you the names of every member, because I've already told you a lot of restricted information. But I will tell you that Remus Lupin has recently been made a full-fledged Phoenix. And though Sirius Black could not receive the same acknowledgment-Cornelius Fudge would never hear of it- we consider him one of us, and he secretly takes on undercover missions for our side."
"Lupin? And Sirius?" Harry was stunned. "I never knew-they didn't tell me."
"Do you think they would jeopardize themselves like that? Harry, even I shouldn't be telling you. But I want you to be able to recognize your friends among your many foes. Friends like the teachers at this school-not all of them are in the Order or even know about it, but consider them safe." He paused. "And though they are no longer with us, I can tell you that your parents had just joined our junior ranks before they went into hiding with you."
"My parents," Harry echoed slowly.
"Yes. Lily and James Potter were two of my apprentices, preparing to become licensed Aurors."
"They were going to be Aurors?"
"They already were, to some extent. They had all the requisite skills, but they had only to pass a test to get their certification. Then they could move up to the senior echelons."
A bright idea occurred to Harry. "If they were both Phoenixes, does that mean I'm a member too?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "Try on the ring and see. It only fits members."
Harry looked at the ring. It was rather big, and he wondered how one ring could fit only members. He tried to put it on his middle finger at first, but it was too small. He jammed it on his little finger, but curiously, it wouldn't even fit there. At last he gave up and sat back.
"It shrinks," he realised in dismay, "on non-members."
Dumbledore smiled and took back the ring. He slipped it easily on his little finger. "You are not a member, Harry. Membership is not passed on from parent to child like an aristocratic title. You have to prove yourself worthy of this ring and the responsibility it symbolizes. But it's not impossible, Harry. Your parents forged a lot of progress towards this goal before they died. You too can earn yourself a place among the nation's greatest Aurors."
Suddenly there came a shout at the door. "Albus! News! Open sesame!"
The door burst open and a beautiful young witch ran in, looking agitated. She had waist-length chestnut hair and dark brown eyes. On her right hand burned the dazzling golden brilliance of the Phoenix ring, and on her left hand was a diamond engagement ring.
"Perdita?" Dumbledore said, rising to his feet.
"Albus!" gasped the witch. "Not ten minutes ago, a cat saw a rat in a broom closet."
"Minerva saw Peter Pettigrew in the Three Broomsticks Inn?" Dumbledore said excitedly.
"I was speaking in code because of him," Perdita said huffily, jerking her thumb at Harry.
"Perdita, this is Harry Potter. I've told him some things about the Order of the Phoenix. Harry, this is Perdita Clemens."
"Hello," Harry said politely.
"Yes, yes," Perdita muttered, still looking at him suspiciously. Harry felt a twinge of confusion and annoyance. Normally his name and his presence combined never failed to make an impression on magical people, and though he continuously stated that he didn't want to coast through life on the strength of his unwarranted reputation, it surprised him to find that his influence seemed to be fading.
"So you see, Harry, I'm terribly sorry," Dumbledore was saying, and Harry jumped because he hadn't been listening. "But I really must act on this new information."
"It's all right, Professor Dumbledore," Harry said hastily, jumping up. Perdita Clemens was practically bouncing off the walls in her anxiety to be rid of him. "I'll leave now."
"Harry," said Dumbledore, and Harry stopped halfway to the door. "Thank you for telling me about this afternoon. It is very valuable information. But please, if you should happen to notice anything else anomalous, come see me at once."
"Yes, Professor. Thank you for.telling me the secret. It's safe with me." And Harry went out.
