Notes: Since it was never clear (at least with what research I've put in) what jobs that certain members of the Order had, I went ahead and assigned them. Since Benjy Fenwick mysterious disappeared and was never found, I thought that him working in the Department of Mysteries (as an Unspeakable) seemed appropriate.
Dumbledore listed the items on the agenda, but the major objective was organizing methods in which to recruit new members. Already, too many members had enough responsibilities related to their day jobs and families. Working for the Order was like having a second job and it would be easier to work in shorter shifts if they had more hands on deck.
"One of the populations we wish to recruit are Muggleborns," Dumbledore said, sitting on the other edge of the coffee table. He steepled his fingers under his chin, peering over his half-moon spectacles. Though he was speaking to the entire group, he was looking intently at Hermione. "As of late, Muggles and Muggleborns are being targeted by Dumbledore and his Death Eaters. Torturing them has become a sport for the Dark Lord's disciples. These antics usually end in murder.
"I have surmised that it would be prudent to collect more Muggleborns as a means to keep them safe with the slight protection that comes with being a member of the Order. I have also developed plans to persuade them to become affiliated, though not active, with us so that they may retain a certain amount of protection without becoming involved in the war."
Hermione decided to speak because it felt as though all eyes were now turned toward her. "Sir, excuse me. I can't help but dislike the way you use the term 'collect'. It ascribes a certain…lack of humanity and autonomy to those of which you are speaking about. As though they were mere items or trophies to obtain. An increased number in your ranks."
Nobody said anything. Emmeline Vance and Amelia Bones shared a look with one another that questioned the young witch's bravery in challenging Dumbledore. Lily Potter stopped braiding Marlene McKinnon's hair—she looked absurd with one perfectly braided side and the other completely straight.
Dumbledore, like always, was smiling. He removed his hands from their resting position and let them lay upon his cloaked thighs. "Thank you for addressing this, Miss Granger. I trust you understand that I have no malevolent or malicious intentionality behind the words I use to speak. It is important to voice the things we take issue with and the things that unease us or hurt our feelings. After all, silence is consent; inaction is just as guilty. None of us joined the Order because we were content to be complacent about the state of our world."
Sirius cleared his throat and everyone turned their attention to him. "If you want to know who a person truly is, you must look at how they treat their inferiors and not their equals. Hermione is right. When we think about those who are 'other' than us, it must not be any different than the way we understand or value ourselves—no one is worth less than anyone else."
Dumbledore tilted his head respectfully at Sirius. "Well said, Mr. Black." It sounded as though he were addressing an answer the young wizard gave in a class.
"No one is less valuable than anyone else…except Death Eaters you mean," Frank added, wrapping his arms around himself as though hugging himself. He jaw was set in defiance, almost daring anyone in the room to challenge him.
"We must not become blinded by hatred and lose sight of our end goals," Remus offered quietly from beside his familiar. "Despicable as they are, we must never stoop to their level. There would be no difference between us. We do not want to have the same methods as the oppressors."
Frank gave his old friend an incredulous look. "And tenderly care for them until justice is served?"
"I believe it is your job, as well as several other Aurors in this room," Remus looked toward James and Sirius for help, "to catch Dark witches and wizards. Not torture them to death."
"I don't think Frank's saying he thinks we should go out vigilante style and murder whichever ones we find walking the streets," Edgar Bones said from behind the thumbnail he was nibbling thoughtfully at. He pressed his fingers to his lips, drumming them slightly, and mumbled from behind them, his free hand cradling his elbow. "It is obvious their job—their Ministry regulated job—is to catch Dark wizards and bring them to justice. I think Frank's just wanting to do something a bit more in the meantime while those who do get caught await trial and all that. Assign some kind of alternative punishment prior to trials, or demand faster trials."
"It is not the Ministry's fault that trials sometimes take ages to come around," Edgar's sister Amelia spoke up from near Fabian Prewett's legs. "Everyone is entitled to a fair and equal trial. We process these cases as fast as we can." She gave a side-glance to Emmeline Vance for support.
Emmeline took over, darling people to challenge what she said next, "If the Aurors took matters into their own hands in any way, regardless of their affiliation here, it would be considered an obstruction of justice and vigilante behavior. They would find themselves awaiting trial, as well."
"Unless you are an Auror," James said, standing and silencing the room, "you don't know what its like tracking down Dark wizards." He glanced down at Sirius and looked at Frank. "Sometimes it takes more hands than you and your partner to apprehend a Death Eater."
Sirius spoke up, "Most of the time, those that we capture are not Death Eaters at all, but are just practicing Dark enough magic that catches our attention. Sometimes when we bring them into interrogation, they have useful information that leads to the tracking and eventual capture of truly dangerous witches and wizards. Sometimes, it doesn't."
"All this talking in circles is getting us nowhere," Dumbledore decided. "I feel as though the most important task at hand is to ensure the safety of Muggles and Muggleborns. It will be a bit difficult for the Muggles, as we would be breaking the Statue of Secrecy. It is my assumption that the more Muggleborns and others that we can assemble into our ranks, the better chance that we have to protect our non-magic fellows."
"How does the Order do their recruiting?" Hermione wanted to know. All of the banter about how Aurorhood worked within the Ministry was interesting, but she couldn't think of a discreet or safe way to contact an entire group of people.
"Ordinarily we do research," Remus answered her, his eyes scanning the room. "Marlene works as a Healer at St. Mungos and she has access to records of patients. These records sometimes hold more detailed and updated information about those living in the Wizarding world. For instance. Here is how we keep track of those who have become the victims of werewolf attacks. I go in and work on recruiting." He gave a grim, yet wry smile. "Most are uninterested. They don't think we can offer enough."
No one addressed this. The room was quiet until something else was brought to attention.
"I work as an Unspeakable," Benjy raised his hand, leading all eyes to himself. "I have a pretty decent security clearance and have access to all kinds of things. You wouldn't believe them, even if I could tell you." His hair was already graying at the temples and his crowsfeet cut deep into his face. He wore the same kind of lined exhaustion as Remus. "Mainly, I have access to slightly less than interesting documents. I'm able to look at lists of witch and wizard blood-standings to determine which Muggleborns are of age that we can reach out to."
"There are a lot," Sturgis said, looking intently at Hermione.
Hermione's mug of coffee turned cold too long ago. She sipped at her drink to have something to do with her hands. She grimaced at the taste and temperature. "We need a way to reach out to many at the same time. It should be in a way that is accessible. We don't want overwhelm them. Now is a frightening time to be a Muggleborn, especially when being approached by those who have a more 'superior' blood status. You aren't sure how people are going to treat you…"
Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. She seemed to have inspired him. "So, how do we do this?"
There was another bout of silence as everyone looked at one another, as though staring into another's face would bring about the answer. To Hermione, it was like they were all in school again. Most of them weren't even twenty yet and they may as well have been in seventh year, trying to solve a difficult problem in the classroom.
"Might I suggest something sociable?" Dumbledore offered. He reached into his cloak's pocket and produced a folded up piece of paper. "A ball, perhaps?"
There were comical groans from the couch that seated Sturgis and company.
Dumbledore tapped the paper he unfolded with his wand. It produced many copies and he passed them around to each of them. It read:
Join Us for an Evening of Frivolity and Pleasure
At the Hallowe'en Masquerade Ball
Date: 31 October 1980
Time: 22:00-Midnight
Location: TBD
"Will it be safe?" Hermione asked. Just a couple of weeks away. She tried not to acknowledge that this event would be one year to the day that James and Lily would be murdered. She couldn't handle the thought and she couldn't even will herself to look over at either of them, as though their fate was entirely her fault.
"Only those who RSVP will be given the location and password to get into the ball," Dumbledore assured her. "We will check those names against the Blood-Status registry. If it looks like far too many purebloods not affiliated with us are registering, we can send them a false password and instead of obtaining admittance to the ball, it will signal to an Auror of their arrival and the intruders, or gatecrashers, will be apprehended."
"If all of us are going, it will be easy to hold down the fort in case a group of people, even Death Eaters, try to overrun us," Gideon Prewett said, breaking the silence from his end of the room again. His twin brother clapped his back in solidarity.
Severus Snape spent an entire week worrying about Regulus Black following the meeting he, Snape, had with Lucius's in his office. He'd kept eyes and ears open for any blasted bird sent along his way to relay a message. Snape hadn't heard from Regulus since the night that he came to Hogwarts, almost a month ago. He hoped to receive an owl at some point, not giving away Regulus's location, but instead signifying in some way that he was still alive.
The fact that the Dark Lord heard whispers of Regulus's presence in London meant nothing. Though the city was large, he and his legion of Death Eaters would have found him by now. Unless Lucius showing up had been a trap for Snape himself…
It had crossed Snape's mind far too many times that Lucius showing up randomly last Sunday wasn't so random at all.
He worried that Lucius's presence had been nothing more but a subtle message from the Dark Lord indicating that he knew of Snape's own betrayal—that of which seeing Regulus again and not alerting the Dark Lord immediately. Regulus could very well already be dead and Snape was being strung along, played with, before one of his brothers or sisters or perhaps the Dark Lord himself came along to kill him.
But no, Snape had to remind himself constantly whenever these thoughts penetrated his mind. He'd already proven himself to possess an overabundance of loyalty to the Dark Lord for the services he provided by holing up at Hogwarts to spy on Dumbledore. If the Dark Lord knew that Snape was feigning information and that his loyalties had truly shifted, he would have known by now and Snape would have been dead a long time ago.
To make matters worse by adding on extraneous irritations and annoyances to the castle, Potter and Black had been showing up more often.
"Overgrown hallway monitors," Snape grumbled, avoiding them at every given moment.
A Muggleborn's parents had vanished earlier in the week and they stopped by every so often to pull the fourth-year Ravenclaw out of class and question her incessantly. More than once the Aurors interrupted his class, being as disruptive as possible, banging into cauldrons and other materials upon his work desk at the front of the class. What's more, they seem to have taken a shine to Miss Granger and stayed to have lunch or dinner in the Great Hall with her, crowding the staff table. No doubt she was in cahoots with them.
Snape would glower at her in the mornings during breakfast, expecting the two Gryffindor buffoons to join her, but they never came so early. Twice, she caught him staring in her direction. She waved the Daily Prophet at him, as though it was a peace offering. He rolled his eyes before turning them back towards his old Potions text and continued scribbling upon the pages.
Hermione observed how ill he looked as of late and couldn't help but notice that this occurred shortly after their argument. Perhaps he was suffering from a lack of community or friendship. It must be dreadful to be alone in those dungeons with reprimanding and disciplining students during detention being his only interaction with other people.
She paced her rooms later that night. She despised conflict—guilt clouded her conscience anytime she thought about Snape and their last meeting. She sat at the foot of her bed and decided to write to him. If anything, she would feel better to get rid of these feelings.
Professor Snape,
I know it's been a while since we talked and I am quite aware that you probably do not wish to hear from me at all. I don't blame you. I figure that this message is nothing but a way to clear my own mind and hopefully rid myself of my frustrations about the situation. I just wanted to let you know that it was never my intention to lie to you. Well, a lot of people consider withholding or concealing information as a form of lying. I never meant to deceive you in any way is what I mean.
I would like to see you again.
There is something I wish to tell you. As you know (and I know you know, how could I not with the way you stare daggers at me every time I receive mail?), I have been absorbed by the Order of the Phoenix. I've gathered some information from the most recent meeting and would like to share it with you. What is the catch? I know you're wondering this by now. I ask of you a favor. One that I think may benefit the both of us.
I will keep my Floo channel open for you in case you would like to respond to this. As always, same time as usual.
Yours,
Hermione Granger
She performed the necessary Sealing and Transfiguration charms before taking the bird note to the fireplace and sending it a long.
She walked over to the nearest bookshelf and picked up a hefty tome before padding into her office. She stretched out on the couch by the fire and read for the rest of her Sunday.
Sleep didn't come for a long time.
Hermione woke with a start in the middle of the night with something fluttered against her nose. She found a paper bird there and unfolded it, reading:
Coming up now.
Still sleepy and dazed from her fitful nap, she wrapped her couch's throw blanket around her shoulders and sat up, watching the fireplace.
He stepped out of it moments later. His arms were wrapped around himself. He was not wearing his robes as per usual, but his black button-down is secured all the way to his neck and wrists. The shirt is tucked into his trousers: prim and proper as always. His dark hair was hiding his face, his large hooked nose being the only feature visible from behind and around the raven curtain.
"You ought to start being more alert, Miss Granger." His voice was icy and creeping quietly around the space between them. "You never know when something is waiting to come out of the shadows to surprise you."
She shivered and wrapped the throw blanket tighter around herself. "I hate to say it, but I have hardened in some ways since I was a school girl, you know. I don't quite jump at shadows."
"I doubt that. You Gryffindor are all the same: so excitable and such bleeding hearts."
"Whatever you must believe." It was tiring to be insulted for the House she was sorted into; she never said anything about he and his utter Slytherin-ness.
"I trust that you reveled in that Order meeting with Black and Potter and the rest of the gang." He said this in such a snide manner, much like a child who was not invited to a birthday party.
"They're not all awful," Hermione said, exasperated at the stupid rivalry. However, there were some people in the Order that she wasn't sure about yet. She wasn't fond of the little cliques. Remus had been the best towards her. "I happen to think Remus Lupin is of admirable and agreeable character."
"Oh, yes. Spineless Lupin." Snape drawled, stepping closer to the fire. "How is he these days?"
"Kind," Hermione shrugged. "You know, I bet you'd find that you both have more in common than you think."
Snape rolled his eyes so hard that Hermione wondered if it was painful. "Regardless, I am here to listen to what you have to say." And he truly was.
He was at his wit's end with Regulus. He thought about talking to her all week. He figured that since he had damning and secret information about her that he had nothing to lose to ask her for help. Yes, he would help her if she helped him with Regulus. and if she wanted to betray him and call him out, he could do the same thing. Essentially, they would be bound to each other by their secrets. Essentially, there was nobody else they could go to besides each other.
Hermione saw no point in beating around the bush. It was already so late and tomorrow morning was fast coming. "They wish to recruit Muggleborns as a means to protect them. They are throwing a social event to ease them into the Order or to at least persuade them to allow us to protect them in some way."
"And no doubt control," Snape mumbled under his breath. He was a firm believer that Dumbledore did not differ much from the Dark Lord, using innocent people as pawns to push his own agenda and get his way.
Hermione pretended she hadn't heard what he said. "Dumbledore is spreading the word about the event. He's set it up in some kind of Unplottable space." She told him about RSVPing and the secret location and password. She also mentioned checking names on the Blood-Status Registry.
Snape listened with an arched eyebrow, never uncrossing his arms from his chest.
"I don't think it's the safest way to do this, but I suppose it is the easiest. I'm worried the wrong people are going to hear about this and attempt to get into the party to do a whole lot more than dance."
"You wish me to tell none of the Death Eaters to go. I can't. I will not stick my neck out for you like that."
"I'm not asking for you to risk or sacrifice your life for me!" Hermione scowled at him. "I wish for you to let me know if you hear about any of them obtaining knowledge about this occurring. That way we may be able to switch locations last minute or call the whole thing off."
"When is this…party?"
"Next Saturday. I wondered," she bit her lower lip and looked at him openly, "if you would be able to come. I'm thinking that no matter the precautions we take, the Death Eaters will find a way in. I'm thinking back to the Quidditch World Cup I went to in my fourth year and how they so easily infiltrated an event that was laden with extremely high security."
"I can hardly wait." Sarcasm dripped off of each hard consonant that he pronounced meticulously, barely moving his mouth as he did so. "And what would I do at this ball? Waltz with you?"
"I want you to come tell me, or give a signal, when you think the safety of the event has been breached. I can start evacuating people or tell them to prepare to fight immediately."
He sighed deeply and did not speak for a long time. "If I do this for you…you owe me."
"Anything."
His lips curled up into a smirk. "Later." He headed towards the fireplace and took a handful of Floo powder. "See you Saturday."
