As anyone who frequented The Burrow would know, it heaved like none other in the closing days of the summer holidays, and none more than it did this year. More and more non-family members came bustling through, from Aurors and Ministry personnel of every calibre to Hogwarts Professors and more.
Arthur Weasley knew this, as the patriarch of The Burrow, and an avid enjoyer of Molly's (his wife's) cooking. Arthur was a tall man, with a protruding stomach and balding head of fading red hair. He had wrinkles around his eyes, from where he'd smiled so much, and, coincidentally, he was smiling now. He found himself at the head of the crowded Kitchen table, occupied by the aforementioned people, all murmuring to each other about the state of the world and their space in it.
Alastor (Mad-Eye) Moody was in a debate with Bill, Arthur's eldest son, about the Goblins on the far end of the table; they'd gotten so loud that half the table had silenced to listen. Bill was speaking on the Goblins behalf, though not outwardly agreeing with any of their odd traditions and Moody was speaking as someone from a generation past, with little patience for those who'd scammed him one too many times. Arthur half suspected (with the way Moody spoke about Goblins) that more than one of his countless scars had been inflicted by a Goblin.
A space was free beside Arthur, for Albus Dumbledore, who was late for the meeting he'd scheduled. Dumbledore had briefly mentioned needing to speak with both Vira Black and Harry Potter—of duties as the Head Boy and Girl—but Arthur couldn't imagine it'd been a long talk, nor that he'd be running late for their meeting because of it. But here they were, a group of twenty, waiting on one.
By the time Dumbledore arrived, slipping silently into the seat beside Arthur, more than fifteen people were involved in Bill and Moody's debate—almost an even split of people arguing either side.
"Good evening, Arthur," said Dumbledore, giving Arthur a fright. He'd been so engrossed in the rather heated discussion that he'd not noticed the elder man. Dumbledore was extremely tall, with spindly arms and legs hidden behind the most egregious robes of purple and yellow. Sat on his long, crooked nose was a pair of half-moon glasses that hid his whimsical blue eyes.
"Oh! Dumbledore," said Arthur, "How have you been?"
"Fine, Arthur. My meeting with Ms Black and Mr Potter went on longer than expected."
"I thought as much. Everything go alright?"
"Yes. Both are perfect candidates for their upcoming positions."
"I'm glad to hear it."
Dumbledore hummed. It was odd to see him do so, he was not a man to beat around the bush! "I don't intend to overstep my bounds, but Mr Potter and Ms Black mentioned your son, Ronald, living with them for the moment," said Dumbledore. "I wasn't aware the situation had gotten so bad."
"It's the Malfoy boy," said Arthur. "I can't believe he's got good intentions with my son."
"Mr Potter said as much… he was rather upset with Remus' thoughts on Mr Malfoy."
"It isn't good, Albus," said Arthur. "First Percy, and now Ron with the Malfoys… If the Black girl and Potter decide to put their faith in You Know Who, it isn't looking good for us—you know the respect they command in the school. It'll be a matter of time before half of the seventh years are scarred with his mark!"
"Mr Potter and Ms Black have expressed interest in joining the Order," said Dumbledore slowly. "I cannot imagine they care all too much for those who caused the death of their parents."
"And yet they spend time with the Malfoy's and Greengrass'."
Dumbledore sighed, looking much the old man he was. "They're still kids, Arthur. We can't be putting such blankets on them."
"We've seen what children can do with the wrong influence."
"And influence goes both ways. We must have faith in them. We could very much push them to those we wish to keep them from!" Dumbledore's tone was without rebuttal. He spoke like a man who knew the world over. "They are to be my Head Boy and Girl—they are faultless in their studies and work ethic, though rather raucous during Quidditch."
Arthur smiled. He'd seen all of them on their brooms at The Burrow; both Potter and Black were brilliant, and had been a major factor to why Ron received the position as Quidditch Captain back in his fifth year. He wasn't sure how much time the three of them had spent during the summer before their fourth year on their brooms, but by the end Ron had gone from a mediocre Goalkeeper to starting in every match. "Yes, I've seen them…" he said, eventually.
"I know they're hard to read, but I assure you they have good intentions in their heart. With my guidance, they will be invaluable assets to us and to the Wizarding World once Voldemort is no more than a bad dream," Dumbledore said with a perplexing look.
Arthur didn't say a word more, merely nodding. Dumbledore knew what he was talking about and Arthur couldn't blame the man for putting both Potter and Black on such high pedestals. They were magnificent, and that's what made them so terrifying!
Dumbledore cleared his throat and stood. The noisy room quieted to a whisper. "I understand this is our first meeting as a group since before Voldemort's return. People are nervous; you have questions—"
"An understatement, Dumbledore!" Moody declared.
"—and I will attempt to placate these tonight." Dumbledore carefully took in the occupants of the room. Most were returning members except for Bill and Charlie Weasley (Arthur's two eldest sons). "Voldemort is back. He is no doubt collecting his forces and rebuilding strength as we speak. We must keep calm in these uncertain times and continue as if normal until he reveals himself—"
"He'll have an army by then," squeaked Dedalus Diggle, a mousy man who usually wore a friendly smile.
"We can't just wait!" Emmeline Vance chimed. She was a small witch, but known to have a formidable ensemble of hexes and curses in her repertoire.
"We're not going to," said Dumbledore simply. "You all must know someone who'll be interested in the lies of the Daily Prophet—Alastor, you mentioned young Nymphodora Tonks when we last spoke?"
"Aye. She's clumsy but an effective Auror," said Moody.
"More people will be more sympathetic than you think. Be observant: see who reads the paper—how they read the paper! You'll find we aren't alone. We are here because we won't bow to Voldemort. We have lived many fine years without him and will do the same once all of this is over."
"What about Longbottom?" asked Minerva McGonagall, her thick Scottish accent piercing the room. Something many of the group had been on the receiving end of whilst students at Hogwarts.
"Should he want to join, that will remain his choice."
"The boy has no choice!" said Moody. "He is Voldemort's target, unless he has a death wish he'll join."
"Mad-Eyes right, Dumbledore," Remus Lupin said, a small, scarred man that Arthur thought would, by the end of the upcoming war, look very much like Moody—should he continue to get scars as he had in his short life.
"He's too young," said McGonagall.
"He's an adult," Moody countered.
"I will speak with Mr Longbottom once he is at Hogwarts."
"I'm his Head of House, I want to be in that meeting, Dumbledore," McGonagall said.
Dumbledore nodded and a brief silence fell over the room while everyone waited for him to continue. "Mr Potter and Ms Black have expressed their interest in joining the Order," he said.
Molly bristled. "We are not to recruit children into the Order."
"They aren't children, Molly," said Remus.
"They're in school!"
"It'll be after their final year when Voldemort shows himself," Dumbledore said. "When Mr Longbottom is without the protections of Hogwarts Castle."
"Another year will make no difference," Kingsley Shacklebolt, a tall dark-skinned man, declared. "It is better to have them on our side before You Know Who's recruits can sink their claws into them."
"If they're to be inducted into this Order," Molly said, her face flushed red, "then Ron will want to join, too. And I will not see him—or any of my children—dead!"
"You'll see him dead if you push him away!" said Moody decisively. "Where is the boy? Hm! The rest of your children are here. Why not Ronald? Albus, you've been to Black's mansion—the boy is there, isn't he?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, the three of them—that is to say Ms Black, Mr Potter and Mr Weasley—along with an elf live together. Ms Greengrass seems a frequent visitor, too."
"Not one so-called adult lives in that mansion, Molly," Moody continued, turning back to Molly. "If they can look after it, they're adult enough for me!"
"They have the elf doing everything!" said Molly grumpily.
"If you had an elf, you'd have it work, too," said Moody. "Face the fact they're every bit an adult as we are."
"Remus, you know them better than us. What do you say?" Kingsley asked.
"Well… they're like James and Sirius. Every bit as talented, more so perhaps, and—yes, they've spent time with the Malfoy boy—they are very much good people. Rhea raised them well."
"I thought Potter lived with his relatives?" McGonagall asked.
"Harry hasn't been there for years," said Remus. "He spends all his time with Vira."
"Did you know about this, Albus?" McGonagall asked.
"I found out today," said Dumbledore serenely, much to the chagrin of McGonagall and Molly.
"How couldn't you know where Harry lived?" asked Molly.
"It's not my job to nitpick in all my students' affairs," said Dumbledore, unwavering in front of Molly's ire. "I was as surprised to learn of Ronald's situation as I was of Mr Potter's and I've been in frequent contact with you—something I assure you I am not with Mr Potter's relatives."
Molly quieted.
"Does anyone have questions?" Dumbledore asked, moving his focus to the entire room.
Elphias Doge, a stout man wearing a bowl hat, cleared his throat. "I don't mean to sound rude, but we'll need somewhere better than here to conduct meetings. It is far too cramped for us all, and if we're to have more recruits... well, need I say more?"
"Are you offering your own home, Elphias?" Moody asked.
"My home is too small," said Doge.
"Where do you suggest, Elphias?" Dumbledore asked.
"If Potter and Black want to join… there's always Black's mansion."
Remus laughed. "That won't happen."
"Why not, Lupin?" asked Doge.
"She's overly protective of anything Sirius gave her—Dumbledore was only let in because he's her Headmaster." Remus shook his head. "You should see the enchantments on the house… a seventh year shouldn't know how to cast them. No one should know them."
"All the more reason for it to be a safe house," said Vance.
"It's not a bad idea on paper, but none of you will be allowed in. And, if you were, you'd be under their roof—there'll be no bossing anyone about. Least of all the three of them." Remus looked directly at Molly. "You'll be thrown out—by Kreacher, the elf—before you could get more than two words out. And don't think they'll be so kind to let you back in."
A number of people descended into an uproar of shouts about the manor while Arthur sat around watching it unfold. Beside him Dumbledore did the same, smiling merrily as the whole Kitchen descended into mayhem. It was another minute before Dumbledore cared enough to stand and put a stop to the childish fights and set off an explosion of red sparks from the end of his long wand with a loud BANG!
"If I may," said Dumbledore, waiting for attention to go to him. "Remus is correct. When I was there, Ms Black only let me in after allowing me through the enchantments. I could feel the raw power behind them—as a last resort, the place would be a fortress. I doubt it'll be long before Ms Black settles on the Fidelius Charm, too—and there'll be no way in but from her word alone." Dumbledore sat back down and let people's faces go back to their normal colour.
"Black's mansion is off limits," said Moody. "We'll find somewhere else—I'll not have people's eyes coming out from their sockets because they shouted at either Black or Potter."
"You're one to know about that, Mad-Eye!" said Bill, who got clapped round the back of the head by Molly.
"Aye, I do! And so will a few of you before Voldemort is put down!" said Moody, a manic gleam in his one eye. "We're at war, and you best realise that before you go onto a battlefield!"
The room threatened to descend into shouts again but Dumbledore was quick to speak: "Moving on!" he said. "Kingsley, what has Fudge been saying?"
"Same old stuff—continue the smear campaign for both you and Longbottom. Anyone who is in cohorts with you can put their resignation in. Nothing has changed in that aspect," began Kingsley. "I've seen Lucius Malfoy with him more often, whispering in his ear all kinds of things—Umbridge, too. I've heard Yaxley and others have begun to make more… commotion in the Wizengamot. Whispers of laws to pass through; hearsay can condemn you as if you murdered a man…"
More than once Kingsley's usually smooth voice faltered, and the gravity of the situation finally hit the room. Arthur had known some of this already, Fudge had made his rounds in his department and he'd heard through the grapevine Fudge's vocal attempts to badmouth Dumbledore (and Longbottom). A sober silence fell upon them and Kingeley continued. "There's the matter of the Auror office, too," said Kingsley, "Fudge wants to downsize our department—"
Moody laughed hysterically. "Scrimgeour better be doing something about that!"
"He is trying," said Kingsley, turning to Dumbledore. "He's unhappy you got Scrimgeour's permission for us to be stationed at Hogwarts."
Dumbledore hummed. "Is there anything else? Arthur?"
Arthur looked to Dumbledore, nodding. "Yes. He's frequented around my office—I've seen more people snooping around when I'm talking with anyone—" Arthur pointed to Kingsley "—when Kingsely and I spoke last, at least two people tried to overhear what we were saying."
Kingsley laughed, deep and baritone. "They only learnt of Fred and George's latest inventions!"
Arthur smiled. "We just have to remain vigilant when speaking—I'd say we stick to speaking only when outside of Fudge's reach. Mainly in meetings like this—never in public."
"Very well," said Dumbledore, looking around the room. "We'll reconvene at the same time next week—hopefully we'll have somewhere other than here, to ensure we aren't found out."
A/N: I'd love to hear your thoughts, so please leave a review!