- c h a p t e r - f o r t y -

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September

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Sir, I'm gonna be honest, I have no idea why I'm here. All I know is that it concerns the Seer–Carla–and my mum."

Violet was sitting in front of Dumbledore's desk, fiddling with her hands.

She had been called without warning to the headmaster's office. Now that he was staring at her through his half-moon classes–a curious twinkle gleaming–she was eager to return to her friends in the Great Hall.

He stood gracefully–his robes swishing around him–and asked, "What do you know about the logistics of war? Muggle or Wizarding? Or how about secret societies? Do you believe in them?"

She stared hard at him, a brow slowly rising, "I think they all have their ups and downs. And yes, I do believe in secret societies. The wizarding world is basically one itself." Violet held her breath briefly before saying, "Sir, are you recruiting me for something?"

Dumbledore tilted his head at her, "Is this your acceptance of my invitation?"

She frowned deeply–suspicion rising from within her, "How am I to know what I'm signing up for if you haven't told me?"

He pointed at her, chuckling slightly, "Your suspicion is the whole reason why you are here. We need more people to ask the same questions as you are. People who can ask questions subtly and while keeping themselves pulled together." He grinned at her as if she were his child. "My instincts about you were right–you finished that test quicker than most of my adult recruits in the last few weeks."

That was a test? Violet thought to herself.

Violet stared at him in total confusion, "Sir, I still don't under–"

"Back to the subject of your mother. Dear girl, I doubt you were aware of this, but your mother was part of the same little army that I want you to join."

She blinked, Army? Her mother had been part of a secret wizarding army?

Violet shook her head, "But my mother was a–"

Dumbledore nodded, "Squib, yes, she was." At Violet's concerned expression, he continued, "I knew your mother as a child. She helped us quite a lot in the First Wizarding World."

Violet stared at him, her mouth agape–repeating, "But my mother was a Squib. And everywhere we went, anyone who knew her didn't like her because of it."

Dumbledore sighed–twisting a ring on his hand, "And that was their loss. But because of their hatred–your mother was able to get us extraordinary information and saved many lives."

Violet's head spun at the new information about her mum as she asked, "What did she do?"

Dumbledore sighed slightly–carefully watching her, "She was a spy. Or a mole. Whatever you prefer to call it."

The teenager stared at him–dumbfounded, "What?"

The headmaster nodded, "I cannot go into details though because–you have not accepted my invitation."

She swallowed thickly, "But you still haven't told me what this invitation would include? What would I be signing up for? What would I be doing?"

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