The Truth Behind the Veil ✔️

The Order

   Dumbledore had called all the seventh year Gryffindors as well as those from other houses into his office on the last Friday before the spring holiday. Fawn had a pretty good, and very sinking feeling about what this was for.

  Everyone was buzzing with nervous energy, not knowing what to expect. They climbed the spiral staircase and murmured the password; lemon drop, to the stone gargoyle that guarded the office.

   "Come in," Dumbledore's voice called. The door creaked open to reveal not only the Headmaster, but also each head of house: Horace Slughorn, Pomona Sprout, Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick. Each professor nodded solemnly to the students, most looking as though they wished this meeting wasn't occurring.

  McGonagall waved her wand and twenty more seats appeared in the large room. "Have a seat, please," Dumbledore instructed.

   Feet shuffled and old wood groaned under the added weight as everyone adjusted. The Headmaster stared over his half-moon spectacles, his crystal eyes boring into each and everyone student in the room. The minutes passed and yet, he'd still said nothing.

   James' leg was bouncing and Sirius was cracking his knuckles. Lily and Peter were chewing their nails, Remus was biting his lip, Alice was glancing apprehensively around the room and Marlene was challenging Dumbledore's gaze, her deep brown eyes trying to equally pierce his own.

   Finally McGonagall cleared her throat, nodding to the Headmaster. "Albus." He smiled at her, "You're quite right Minerva. Enough suspense." He opened a drawer and pulled out a stuffed folder, letting it thud onto the table, filling the air with dust.

  Sirius coughed.

     James leaned forward, squinting at the label. "What's the Order of the Phoenix?"

   Dumbledore smiled coyly. "That, is why you are all here, Mr. Potter."

   Fawn took a shaky breath. This was the beginning of the end.

   "Great. What is it?" snapped Sirius, his patience running low.

   "The Order, Mr. Black, is a secret society that I am in charge of that aims to oppose Voldemort and his followers." A sharp intake of breath could be heard from behind.

   A Hufflepuff, Hestia Jones, raised her hand. "Like an army?"

   Dumbledore nodded. "Exactly an army, Ms. Jones."

   "You want us to join?"

   "That is why you were all called here, yes, Ms. McKinnon."

   He opened the folder, pulling a long sheet of parchment half-filled with signatures from it. "I have hand-picked, with the help of our house heads, every seventh-year student that I think would be valuable to the cause. I have been doing this for the past few years, so you may recognize some of the names already listed. If you wish to join," he continued, eyeing all of them, "you must sign your name on this sheet, and attend all meetings once you have graduated. I know this is a large decision, so, you have three months, until June seventeenth, to decide. Your first official meeting with us would commence on the first of July."

   He held out a pen. "If you are ready, please come up now."

   Professor McGonagall stood. "If I may say a few words, Albus?"

   "Well of course."

   She brought herself to her full height, her face more stern than ever. "This is not some fun club," she began. "This is an opposition to dark forces. Most of you will be asked to fight on the front lines. We will need healers," her eyes scanned over to Lily, "and people to write up reports. However, those people will be the minority.