CHAPTER 37

I stare at Dumbledore in disbelief, not understanding what he's just said. He has to be lying to me, right? Or I misheard him. Surely this can't be true. "I'm sorry, Professor, you're letting me into the Order? Even though I failed to manipulate my memories when asleep? Even though I failed to keep you confined to one specific memory?"

"Those are only two stages of Occlumency, and Professor Snape believes he can teach it to you before the term is up. He has faith in your abilities."

A smile cracks across my face. "Thank you."

He waves his wand at the chessboard, and it transforms into a silver amulet. "Take this with you, as a reminder that you are no longer Lord Voldemort's pawn." You're Dumbledore's pawn. Stop, Charlotte, don't think like that. You're no one's pawn—you're your own person. "You're a part of the Order now." He takes a brief moment to explain the board to me. Though it is no good for warning future movements, I can see what has already happened. It's connected to the Order. What the Order knows is shown on the board, such as Harry being protected by Dumbledore. Apparently, he created it when I brought chess into the conversation. He hands it over to me and shows me how to Transfigure it back into an amulet then into a chessboard again. Finally, he smiles and says, "I suggest you go rest, Miss Rodgers."

I watch the amulet closely as I leave his office, not fully believing that I'm in the Order. Officially in the Order. Officially in the Order!

Throughout the course of my life, I've cried for many reasons, from sorrow to anger to frustration to compassion . . . but tears of joy? And I strictly mean joy . . . I have not done this since I was ten, during my brief reunion with Mrs. Stoico. Seven years later, I'm walking—well, practically running—through the halls of Hogwarts with tears of joy in my eyes.

I come to a stop in front of McGonagall's classroom and wait for a few minutes for the class she's teaching to end and for the students to file out. Once they're all gone, I slide into the room. "Professor!" I call, the tears now dried up but the smile refusing to drop from my face.

She looks up, concerned. "Rodgers?"

"I did it!"

"Did what?"

I approach her desk and say as quietly as I can manage, "I'm officially a member of the Order!"

She looks mildly concerned for a split second before congratulating me, but her voice is strained.

"What's wrong?" I ask quietly. "I thought . . . I thought this was a good thing?" She glances at the door, expecting a class any minute. "Professor?"

"Do not misunderstand me, Rodgers," she begins. "I'm more thrilled for you than you can imagine, but . . ."

"But what?"

"Part of me was hoping that you would not be admitted into the Order," she confesses.

All the happiness I had felt moments before flies out of me, and I sink into one of the chairs closest to her desk. "What?" I've been striving to get this since I first learned about the Order, and now McGonagall—the one person I thought would be as happy as I am—is sitting here telling me that she never wanted me to succeed. She's been hoping that I would fail this entire time. Had it been anyone else, it would not bother me much. Had it been anyone else, I wouldn't still be here waiting for an explanation.

She looks almost sad when she says, "I don't want you in the Order because I don't want you to face He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named with this large of a secret to keep from him."

I clear my throat and glance away from her. "I understand."

"Don't mistake my apprehension for disappointment. I'm proud of you and what you have accomplished." I smile at her, my joy slowly returning. "You might not want to hear it," she says, "but Happy Birthday."

"Thanks," I mutter.

"I saw you receive letters and packages this morning."

I have a suspicion I know what she's hinting at. "Yeah, a couple of letters . . . a Skiving Snackbox. I might use that in the Transfiguration lessons with Christopher and the others." She narrows her eyes at me, and I sigh, then confess, "Bellatrix sent me a letter this morning."

McGonagall nods knowingly, as if she had expected this. "What did she say? Do you still have it?"

I shift in my seat uncomfortably, trying to think of what I can say. "I don't have it anymore." I can't say I burnt this one too—even though this one I actually did burn—because the last one was burnt as well. "It went up in flames, Professor. It . . . I don't know how she did it, but as soon as I read it, it just went up in flames."

She asks me gently, "What did it say?"

"She was talking about how . . . how she wanted to be here with me . . . and how she wishes that she could have been with me for every birthday I've ever had. She said—she's working on a way that we can spend Christmas together, but if Voldemort's plans haven't come through, I can't go to Malfoy Manor because she doesn't want me to be there when he's that upset . . . She told me that if she could, she'd write to me more often, but it's too dangerous. She wants me to be safe. She, um, she repeated some of what she said last time—about how I have to watch myself because people might want to harm me."

"She wants to spend Christmas with you?"

"It seemed sincere enough."

McGonagall looks strained. "Do you believe it's safe to be with her?"

"I don't know, Professor. I . . . I don't think she'll hurt me. I mean, she seems to be worried about me . . ." I stop and lock my gaze onto hers. "Do you think it's safe?"

"With Bellatrix Lestrange, I cannot be sure of anything." That makes sense, of course, and I know I should feel the same way and yet . . . "But if you're uncomfortable going, I'm sure we can come up with some excuse between now and then."

I smile but say, "I'm afraid that if she wants me to meet her over the Christmas holidays, I have no choice, don't you think?"

She doesn't have a chance to say anything because at that moment her next class starts filing in. I say a swift goodbye and leave her classroom, making my way down to the Slytherin Dungeon. I find Daphne sitting in the common room and rush toward her. "Daphne!" She turns toward me and stands as if trying to see why I'm in a hurry, and I throw my arms around her.

"What—what's—what happened?" she asks, embracing me.

I pull away from her, smiling broadly. "I've just received such good news!" I bring her back into my arms for a moment, celebrating for just a moment.

"Do you want to share what this news is?" she asks when we separate.

We take a seat on the sofa. "I can't!" Only a few other students are in the common room. "I'm not really supposed to talk about it, but, Daphne, I'm so happy!" I put my head on her shoulder and let myself rejoice. "I'm so fucking happy."

"We should celebrate!"

The thought is wildly appealing to me, and I move my head off her shoulder so I can see her. "How? How should we celebrate?"

She stands up and pulls me to my feet, then leads me to the sixth-year girls' dormitory and over to her trunk. "I keep a stash of sweets for when I'm down, but I think it's the perfect time to gorge ourselves on chocolate." She pulls out a worn and beaten knapsack and drops it onto her bed. "C'mon, let's feast!"

We both crawl onto her bed, Daphne leaning against the headboard and me sitting directly in front of her, our legs crossed beneath us, the knapsack of treats between us. "What about lunch?"

"Oh, please," she scoffs. "If you think I can't gorge myself on sweets and then eat real food to counterbalance it, then you don't know me at all." She brings out a Chocolate Cauldron and opens it. "Besides, it's your birthday, and if you can't be a child on your birthday, when can you be? Eat up! We're celebrating your good news and your birthday!"

I watch her skeptically as I reach into the bag and bring out a package of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. The first flavor is blueberry, and it brings a smile to my face. What did I do to deserve this time here with a friend? What did I do to deserve any sort of kindness like she is sharing with me right now? She reaches over and snatches one of the beans from my package and grimaces. "Sausage. I don't want the taste of real food right now! I want the taste of sugar and chocolate, take those away from me."

"I don't believe I offered one to you in the first place."

"Rude." She tosses a Chocolate Frog at me.

"I remember when you gave me one of these last year." I open it and catch the frog before it can get away from me. "It was right after I broke—right after Draco and I broke up. You just kind of dropped it on my bed and told me that I shouldn't let Pansy get to me. We didn't even really know each other then. Why were you being nice to me?"

She swallows her bite of candy, then clears her throat and glances away from me. She shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe I thought you were nice and wanted to be your friend? Maybe I thought you deserved—I don't know, someone who wouldn't be cruel to you after the break up? Maybe I was hoping to make friends with you and get away from Pansy once and for all." She shrugs again. "You were new and you were a Slytherin. I figured, why not reach out?"

I nod at her, unsure what kind of answer I had expected. "Well, we're friends now, so I guess it worked, yeah?"

Daphne grins at me, then viciously rips the head off her Chocolate Frog. We spend the hour and a half stuffing our faces with candy and sweets. I thought today was going to be miserable, and yet it's actually been one of my favorite days at Hogwarts. I joined the Order of the Phoenix. I've shared loads of sweets with Daphne to celebrate both my accomplishment of joining the Order and my birthday. It's quite possibly the best one I've had since I was a young child.

And it's the best way I could have ever spent the morning of my birthday. I never want it to end. I want to sit here—in this moment—forever. Never again do I want this feeling of complete elation to leave me. It needs to stay with me until I die. I want to pause time right here, where I'm sitting on Daphne's bed celebrating a magnificent moment in my life. This is how my life should have been—having fun with friends at Hogwarts while learning under some of the best witches and wizards I've ever met. This is how everything was supposed to be. I understand now why so many people love Hogwarts. It's not that bad when the weight of a terrible future is bearing down on you.

Daphne skips her Herbology class to continue eating with me, and I find myself far more grateful to her than I probably should be. Though I desperately don't want this fun to end and would do almost anything to prevent that from happening, I know that it must come to an end, both because lunch is soon and because my stomach is slowly beginning to ache from the sugar.

I fall backward onto the mattress and cover my belly with my hands. "I surrender," I groan. "I can't eat anymore."

Daphne stretches her legs out toward me. "Good, because I can't either. I might have overestimated how much I could handle right now."

I fold my arm under my head and look toward her. She's watching me closely. "So you still think you'll be able to eat loads at lunchtime?"

She exhales heavily, softly rubbing her stomach. "Well, maybe. I won't be able to eat pudding, but I'm kind of hoping some real food will soak up the sugar. I have regrets."

I laugh at her and nudge her knee with mine. She grins. "It was worth it though. I still feel like this was a pretty good decision maybe. I might regret it when I stand up, but right now it's fine."

Daphne waves her wand to send the wrappers away and to put the knapsack back into her trunk. We lie like that for another short while until I bring out my pocket watch and sit up with a pained grunt. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, I need to speak with someone. But I'll meet you at the Great Hall, yeah?" I cover my stomach with my hand and add with a frown, "For lunch."

She groans and drops her head back against the wall. "For more food. I'll meet you there."

I slide off her bed and say, "I regret it. This was a mistake."

"Good luck," she laughs as I leave the dormitory.

When I get down to the common room, I call for Dobby and ask for a glass of water. He returns in seconds, and I chug the water, hoping it might make me feel slightly better. And it does, surprisingly. A smile comes to my face now that I feel slightly less terrible. That joy in my heart returns in full force as I step out of the Slytherin Dungeon and make my way to Snape's office. From what I've seen, he usually goes back to his office before heading to lunch.

When I open his office door, I find him reaching for the doorknob, about to leave. "Professor Snape!" I greet him, grinning broadly, entering his office.

"Charlotte," he says as I close the door back.

Something takes over me. I wouldn't be in the Order if it wasn't for Snape, and in a bout of unbridled joy and thankfulness, I wrap my arms around his midsection. "Professor Dumbledore let me join!"

He pats my shoulder awkwardly.

"Thank you so much. You—without you I—I never would've stood a chance." Finally, I realize that I'm still holding him, quickly release him, and step away. "Sorry—I just—I'm so grateful to you, Professor. You changed my life."

"You put in the effort."

His expression looks almost pained, and it makes me fear that he's just as disappointed as McGonagall that I'm in the Order, but because hearing those words from him would absolutely crush me after all he did to help me join, I refuse to ask him. It's best not to know at this point. I'd rather pretend that he's happy for me and proud of me. "Did you know—did Professor Dumbledore tell you that he was going to let me in?"

"He implied it." He clears his throat and straightens a bit. "He did, however, place me in charge of your duties as a member of the Order."

I swallow. "I'm sorry I've just become something else on your plate."

He shakes his head. "Don't think of it that way. The Order is still patrolling the castle, and as you do not have class on Thursdays, I suggested to the headmaster that it might be a good idea if you help patrol the castle after curfew on Wednesdays. You will meet me outside the Slytherin Dungeon, and I will escort you to your patrolling partner for the evening."

"Every Wednesday?"

"Yes, and when you are not patrolling the castle with the Order, you will be keeping an eye on Mr. Malfoy. Now that you are a part of the Order, you are required to help the Order. You may do so by helping me learn what your cousin is trying to do. You will keep me posted on what you learn."

"That sounds fair." Another smile comes to my face. "And Professor Dumbledore thinks it's a good idea for me to be patrolling?"

"Yes."

"I can't thank you enough, Professor. Truly." I look back at the door and pull it open. "You were leaving when I interrupted you." Snape steps out of his office after me and closes the door. We start in the same direction. "Were you going to lunch?"

"It is that time of day."

I nod, not really having an answer for that. "Will we continue the lessons today? This evening, I mean?"

"No," he says. "Your mind went through a trauma earlier—I did not know that Professor Dumbledore would use his Legilimency that harshly against you. We'll let you rest until Saturday morning."

"Thank you."

He almost smiles. "Don't get too comfortable with days off, however. We have a month before the Christmas holiday to get you to the point where you can at the very least keep a skilled Legilimens from seeing any other memory than the one you want to show them while you sleep. Falsifying a convincing memory while sleeping would be beneficial to learn as well, but as long as you can get someone to stop roaming through your mind, you should be in good standing."

"And you think I can actually learn that in a month?"

"Yes. In any case, you might not even have to face the Dark Lord over Christmas. If Malfoy has not fulfilled his mission—and it does not seem that he will before then—you'll likely not have to see the Dark Lord."

"Bellatrix did tell me that she wouldn't want me to see him if Draco hasn't succeeded because she doesn't want me to see him that angry."

He cuts me a glance. "When did she say that?"

I clear my throat. "Right. Um. She sent me a letter. This morning. For my birthday."

"You failed to mention this earlier."

"Yes."

"Would you care to mention it now?"

I look around the corridor. "Perhaps later. She didn't say anything too unusual though, so you shouldn't worry too much about it." That's almost a lie. He'll surely want to know that Bellatrix wants to spend the Christmas holiday with me.

We separate once we reach the Great Hall, Snape heading to the staff table and me heading to my friends. I take a seat beside Daphne. "Professor Snape is the person you needed to talk to? Was it about your private lessons?" she asks as I sit.

"Yeah. Are you prepared to eat something yet?"

"Not really, but I'm going to figure it out."

Astoria immediately starts complaining about their History of Magic homework, and I listen with a gross sort of enjoyment since I am no longer in the class and never have to deal with it again. I basically failed the O.W.L. for that particular class, but that doesn't really matter to me.

I sit in silence for most of our lunch, not really having the energy to talk now that my stomach is slowly beginning to churn again. I can't eat anything, and honestly laughing is beginning to hurt as well. Daphne puts her head down on the table. "I hate everything," she whispers.

"What's wrong with the two of you?" Astoria asks.

"We gorged ourselves on sweets," Daphne moans. "And I'm not feeling so well."

Astoria's eyebrows raise. "What did you expect if you ate that much sugar?"

"Stop judging us," I say.

Though Daphne is tempted after lunch to skip her Muggle Studies class to lie around the dormitory with me, she decides against it because she already skipped Herbology and walks off with the rest of my friends who are all going to their classes.

With nothing left to do today, I make my way to the dorm. Perhaps I can reclaim some of the sleep I lost this morning. A few sixth- and seventh-years are scattered around the common room when I arrive, but I don't speak with them, instead going straight to the dormitory and crawling into my bed, pulling the curtain around myself and blocking out the rest of the world.

Rather than trying to go to sleep immediately, I grab the chain that from around my neck and pull out a silver amulet, then slip the necklace over my head and hold it in my hand. The amulet fits perfectly in palm. On it, etched in black, is a scene of Hogwarts, one that makes it seem as if I am in the air, looking over the castle and its grounds. I see the Forbidden Forest, the Black Lake, the castle itself, the Quidditch pitch, the courtyards. Everything inside the grounds is depicted. Dumbledore is amazing.

But I didn't take off the amulet to admire his handiwork, so I set it on my bed and wave my wand over it, watching in awe as it expands and becomes the chess board that Dumbledore had shown me. My eyes are drawn to the pawn that was used to represent me.

I know that this chessboard is not good for much, because by the time the pieces move, the knowledge is already common, but I like to see myself as part of the Order, as part Voldemort's greatest resistance. I like having a physical, visual representation of my rebellion against Voldemort. I might be his broodmare and he might someday force me to have his child, but I am still very much my own person.

The thought sparks a little joy in my chest, and I turn the board back into the amulet and drop it back over my neck, then hide it under my robes.

As I'm sliding under my blankets to rest for a short while, my eyes catch sight of a small package on the foot of my bed, and I scramble for it, snatch it up, and tear it open. Inside is a large vial of yellow liquid—the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Snape actually pulled through and brewed the potion for me. I have so much to thank him for. I was beginning to wonder if he had forgotten about it. An attached note simply says, "Do not overuse it this time."

Stifling a short laugh, I tuck the vial into my trunk and crawl under my sheets, an unfamiliar sort of peace settling over me.