Minerva McGonagall was the first one to arrive.
"Really, Albus," she murmured, "is this truly necessary?"
She and Dumbledore were standing on what would appear to be a rather large yacht to the passing muggle, but what was in fact a small house floating above the English Channel.
Dumbledore gave her a warm smile that did not quite reach the corners of his half-moon spectacles. "I'm afraid it is this time, Minerva. It is too much to hope for that the wizards I invited here tonight would go unnoticed if they apparated into Hogsmeade." Fawkes, who was perched on a nearby windowsill, gave a small chirp of welcome.
Minerva nodded brusquely and sat down on the plush couch in the surprisngly roomy living room. "When can we expect the others?"
Dumbledore only smiled at her as the flames in the hearth turned green and a disgruntled looking man with a monocle stepped forward.
"Good evening, Benjy," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "Tea?"
"Evening, Albus. Tea?-- yes, tea would be lovely." He peered around the room owlishly, nodding Good Evening to Minerva and settling himself beside her on the sofa while taking his conjured tea from Albus.
There was a crack a moment later as Alastor Moody appeared in the kitchen adjacent to the living room.
"Ah, Alastor, good to see you," Dumbledore remarked, motioning Alastor forward into the living room. "We are just now taking tea. May I offer you some?"
"No, that's all right, had a cup before I came," said Alastor gruffly, peering at the present company with slightly narrowed eyes. "Are you sure this floo is secure?"
"Yes, quite sure," Dumbledore replied. "I had it connected just for tonight. Of course, I understand your preference to apparate."
"Can't be too cautious," Alastor said, prodding a nearby recliner with his wand before sitting down.
Over the next few minutes Arthur Weasley, Emmeline Vance, and Gideon and Fabian Prewett stumbled with more or less grace from the fireplace. When it appeared as though everyone had arrived, sat down, and been served their favorite blend of tea, Dumbledore cleared his throat softly and all eyes turned to him.
"I wish to extend my warmest thanks to everyone for coming here tonight. I know most of you have been reading between the lines in the more recent issues of the Daily Prophet regarding the increase in attacks on muggles and muggle-born wizards. I will be blunt with you; Tom Riddle, the man now calling himself Lord Voldemort, seeks to become the next reigning Dark Lord. His group of followers, calling themselves Death Eaters, are carrying out these attacks. I fear Tom Riddle is capable of terror only previously witnessed by the last Dark Lord, Grindewald."
Dumbledore paused as the small gathering of wizards absorbed this speech. All of them had already known or guessed as much, and nodded at Dumbledore to continue.
"However dark this force may be, I believe it is still early enough to prevent it from escalating into a war. It is my goal to establish an organization of withces and wizards willing to dedicate themselves to eradicating this uprising before it becomes any stronger. The Ministry, despite its pure intentions, is unprepared to deal with this new threat, and as such cannot protect the wizarding world.
"I have asked you here tonight to become members of this organization. Many of you hold important positions in the Ministry and wizarding society. It is my wish to recruit as many people as possible to our cause and raise awareness before it is too late. However, if you join you must do so with the full understanding that your life will be in danger."
"No more danger than it would be if you didn't fight," grunted Alastor, breaking in where Dumbledore had paused. Arthur Weasley nodded his agreement.
"You're right, of course. The increase in muggle-baiting is unlike anything I've ever seen before-- it's not just pranks, it's really dangerous. I mean, you all heard about that factory explosion last week. And the Ministry won't listen to me when I tell them, it's only going to get worse."
"I'm glad you understand how seriously we must take this," Dumbledore said. "I know tonight's meeting is rather out of the way--" he gave a small chuckle--"but I felt it was prudent to provide for utmost secrecy. In future I hope to hold smaller meetings at Hogwarts, or at the designated Headquarters.
"I apologize for demanding an answer so soon, but I must know where each of you stand now; are you willing to help in the fight against Lord Voldemort?"
There was a moment of silence before the Prewett brothers spoke as one. "We are."
One by one, every wizard in attendence pronounced his willingness to join.
"Wait just a minute, Albus," said Emmeline suddenly. "What exactly is this order called?"
McGonagall arched one eyebrow at Dumbledore as she sipped her tea. Dumbledore's mustache twitched with what might have been the beginnings of a smile.
The expectant silence was quickly broken with a burst of song. All the wizards turned to stare at Fawkes, whose uplifting note resonanted in the air a few moments before fading away.
"I believe," Dumbledore said softly, his eyes twinkling, "that the Order of the Phoneix may be appropriate."