A/N: nothing much to say, here's chapter 5…

"You wanted to talk to me… um… Professor?"

Dumbledore sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. It wasn't going to be easy for her to learn that for 15 whole years, her life had been one big lie…

"First of all, Tammara, I think that this belongs to you…" he said, picking up the fat marmalade, black-socked cat which had walked into the room.

Tammara took the purring ball of fur into her arms. "Everyone… this is Meowiana…" Tammara announced to the room, holding up one fat, friendly pussy-cat.

"Oh, she's gorgeous!" Hermione gushed. "May I hold her?"

"Sure…" Tammara passed Meowiana over to Hermione, and the cat contentedly went to sleep in the girl's arms.

"How old is she?"

"Three years old, I got her for my thirteenth birthday… you should have seen her, she looked like an orange and black ball of fairy floss… all fuzz, for goodness' sake… cutest thing in the world…"

"Aaaaw… sweet!!! Hey, I got my cat, Crookshanks, when I was thirteen too!"

"Really?"

"Yup… and he's orange, or marmalade, as some people say too… strange coincidence, isn't it…"

"You said it…"

"But anyway, there was this time…"

Dumbledore cleared his throat… it would be better to get it over and done with…

"Excuse me, girls…"

Both girls started, apparently, they were caught up in talking and had forgotten the other people in the room.

"Sorry, professor…" Hermione said sheepishly.

"Now, Tammara, May I ask, no matter how incredulous you might become, that you refrain from throwing things at people…" his eyes twinkled a luminous pale blue.

"I- I won't…" she said, wondering whether they were playing a trick on her. She looked back, confusedly, at the people in the living room. When she looked at Dumbledore, she grew scared, for his eyes no longer smiled, and his countenance was sad. He sighed and began.

"It all started 18 years ago, Tammara, on the 16th of January. Do you know what happened on that day?"

"N-no, I have no idea…"

"That was your parents' wedding day."

"No, Jeanne and Mark were married on--"

"Not the Blairs, Tammara… your real parents, Anne and Scott Andrews."

Tammara jumped and her eyes grew large. She had never told anyone that she was adopted. Only Mark and Jeanne knew…

"How-- who-- but-- I-- I never--" she stuttered, looking around from one face to the next in abject fear.

"Tammara, Tammara… calm down…" Dumbledore soothed. "Let me resume, and you will understand…"

"But-- how did you know?"

"I know because I knew your parents, both sets of parents. They were in the Order, as I was, and still am, may I add."

"The Order?! Is that some kind of cult or something?"

"No, my dear, it is an alliance."

"That's what they always say!" she shot back sardonically.

"No, let me tell you. This is the truth, I swear it on my life, and on that of everyone in this room."

Tammara didn't answer. She was wondering where all of this was leading.

"Look, Tammara, this will explain it."

Dumbledore handed her a sealed envelope, which bore a crest, stamped in wax, at the back. She flipped it over, unopened, and read:

"Tammara Andrews Blair, the white armchair, the living room, 23 Princeton Drive, Surrey, England."

"What the--? How'd you--?"

"You can do it too, you know…" Hermione broke in. "It's only the simplest of spells…"

"What the heck is this? Some kind of sorcery?! And what do you mean, You can do it too?"

Dumbledore sighed.

"Don't you get it, Tammara?" he paused.

"You're a witch…"

Everyone in the room fell quiet for a while, then Tammara broke the silence.

"Excuse me?! You're nice!" she, insulted, said sarcastically. (A/N: usually, when you're called a witch, it means that you are mean or that you're ugly… or both… that's what Tammara thought.)

The teenagers laughed. She turned and gave them looks of pure hatred so Harry hastily explained.

"Not that kind of witch… this kind…"

Then he turned to Hermione, who put a still-sleeping Meowiana on the couch and stood up.

"Would you do the honours, Hermione?"

She looked to Dumbledore, who nodded.

Tammara watched in fearful fascination as Hermione took a slender piece of wood out of her pocket, and pointed it at the sleeping cat.

With a swishing movement, a flick of her wrist, and a whisper, the cat sailed gently through the air and landed next to Tammara, who clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle a shriek.

"But-- you-- how-- I--" she stuttered, looking back and forth from Hermione to Meowiana and back again.

"Standard Book of Spells, chapter 4." Hermione murmured with a smile.

"What?!"

"It's a textbook title. 'Standard Book of Spells, Year 1' by Miranda… something or other… I can never remember authors' names…"

The boys sniggered and Hermione shot them a death glare. They shut up and cleared their throats.

Tammara was now over her initial fright, and she found that she was rather interested in hearing what they had to say.

"Ok, so I'm a witch…" she said, deciding to play along in what she was sure was only a game.

"What does this 'Order' thing, or anything else for that matter, have to do with me?"

Dumbledore sighed.

"One night, in July 1988, a prophecy was made."

"Surely, you don't believe in that nonsense!" both girls cut in at the same time, and then cleared their throats sheepishly, apologising.

Dumbledore smiled at both of them.

"no… this prophecy is true, Tammara. And, Hermione, one would think you believe in prophesies now, especially after that little adventure earlier this year at the Ministry…"

"Oh, yeah…" Hermione said, blushing scarlet.

"So, anyway Tammara, like I was saying…"

A/N: CLIFFIE!!! LOL. Really sorry guys, but I believe that cliffies are useful once in a while… please keep up the great reviews… here's a deal… no reviews, no updates… Deal?

Hahaha… Love ya guys!!!

TaMi