Beyond Hogwarts cont; Chapter Thirty-One

-=Beyond Hogwarts, cont.; Chapter Thirty-One=-

“I personally blame this worrying on a mass attack of paranoia,” Lily said bluntly, as soon as they had Apparated to their house. “It doesn’t sound too healthy.”
   “Nope; I think they’re honestly worried,” James said carelessly, dropping his cloak onto a hook. “Not that we really need to worry too much at this point in time.”
   Lily eyed him suspiciously. “Have you been making secret treaties with Tom’s supplier of Bad-Temper injections or blackmailing Severus?”
   James burst out laughing. “That is actually not a bad idea. I was really referring to the fact that we don’t have a kid. You know what he said—he won’t kill us till I can see my kid die by his hands. Somewhat over the top, don’t you think?”
   “This, talking about a person whose mission in life is to take over the world.”
   “Yeah,” James grinned. “I feel like I’m in a comic book. SuperJamesandLily, to the rescuuuuue!”
   “You know me…” Lily laughed. “Have you told Slenka about the next meeting?”
   “I have not. I figured you would be the kind one and save her the mental anguish of having to prepare food for thirty people in about five minutes.”
   Lily sighed, standing up. “I’ll tell her.”
   She flitted upstairs, drew out a drawer of her vanity, and pulled out a flat, square package wrapped in purple wrapping paper with small green stars. Taking the back staircase to the kitchen, she knocked on Slenka’s door. The house-elf had been given a walk-in closet with a window in it, and it had been outfitted with a small four-poster bed just the elf’s size, with dark green curtains, a lamp, a bracket of candles, a small washtub, a mirror, a towel, a hanger, and a little rug. Slenka was sitting up in bed, reading one of Lily’s old History of Magic schoolbooks, tucked under a blanket that matched her bedcurtains.
   “Slenka!” Lily whispered, shutting the door behind her. “Is it all right if I come in?”
   Slenka immediately squirmed out of bed, shutting the book and placing it very respectfully on her pillow. “What would Miss like? Has Miss had a good time at the house of the Weasleys? Is there something Slenka can do for miss?”
   “I’ve got a present for you,” Lily smiled, holding out the package. “We’re holding another meeting tomorrow—the large group of people that were here a few weeks ago—and I thought you might want this.”
   With wide, green, surprised eyes, Slenka carefully tore the paper off of the present and sat, enthralled, as a large book dropped into her lap. The cover was embossed with a detailed picture of a dinner table set for a feast and the golden words: Cooking of Hard-To-Find Dishes from 191 Countries”.
   Slenka had a funny yen for cooking all sorts of difficult dishes, something Lily had found out when the elf had tried to make a dish for dinner that was described in her third-year Study of Ancient Runes book. Lily had passed by Flourish and Blotts that day after eating lunch at a Greek café, seen the cookbook, and snapped it up immediately.
   “I thought you might like that for tomorrow. They’ll be here at eleven; is that all right?”
   Burrowing herself into Lily’s arms, Slenka nodded sweetly. “Yes, miss. Dinner will be ready.” She drew back seriously. “Slenka thanks miss much for the present.”
   “You’re welcome,” Lily smiled, dropping a kiss on top of the elf’s forehead. “I’m going to bed. Sleep well!”
   A happy little elf waved goodnight clumsily, as it was clutching the new book with both hands. She was a heart-warming little servant, Lily mused, casting a glance at the short figure in a light blue nightgown with the large eyes and ears.
   “Slenka’s wonderfully sweet,” she murmured, once in a pair of James’ pajamas. “We’re rather lucky, aren’t we?”
   “Yeah,” James mumbled, already half asleep. “I absolutely agree. Quite so.”
   Interested, Lily propped herself up on her elbow. “I have green teeth.”
   “Mmm.”
   “I slipped last weekend and broke five ribs.”
   “Good.”
   “I’ve been arrested by the Ministry of Magic for setting Narcissa Malfoy on fire.”
   “Great.”
   “I am pregnant with a bookshelf.”
   James turned over sleepily. “Mmm-hm.”
   “I will be eloping in four days with Igor Karkaroff, and Severus is going to be our best man.”
   “Umm-hmm…wonderful…”
   Biting back a laugh, Lily pulled the covers over her shoulders and closed her eyes; she was asleep in seconds.
   The next day flew by, and Lily was home first at seven o’clock. James was going to be working about three more hours overtime, and the job of getting ready for the meeting was entrusted to her. She gave Slenka permission to cook whatever she liked and offered her own services in the kitchen, so before long, the two were laughing at Lily’s mishap that occurred when she was sifting a bowl of flour,baking powder, and salt, and Vera, as cool as a refrigerated cat, jumped into the bowl, just underneath the sifter, causing Lily to start and knock the bowl, complete with cat, onto the floor.
   “Vera!” Lily groaned, picking up the now wholly white cat, who was clawing at her own eyes. “Honestly!”
   “Would miss like Slenka to give cat a bath?” Slenka inquired, nose wiggling rapidly. “Slenka will make sure that cat does not flood the bathroom this time.”
   Vera had, as a matter of fact, managed to distract Slenka so badly that the entire second downstairs bathroom was swimming in two inches of water before the elf jumped down from the commode with a fighting cat in her arms. Peter had not been much help, either; he had stopped by to visit, heard Slenka’s squeals, and immediately opened the door, ignoring the squeaks of: “Don’t open! Don’t open!” His shoes were instantly soaked in the small river that flowed over the carpet, and only after a few minutes of staring around in shock at the commotion did he restore a spirit of dryness to the hallway and bathroom. Vera, without the soap having touched her once, escaped into the garden.
   “We might not have time for that; it’s past eight o’clock,” Lily sighed. “Open the back door, please. Vera, out!”
   A streak of white, shedding clumps of flour and fur, bolted out of the door and into the garden, sending a cluster of bluebirds into a chaotic frenzy. With a flick of her wand, Lily dumped the flour mixture into the trash and dipped the measuring cup into the bag of flour for the second time, clucking at the white pawprints all over the kitchen floor, which Slenka was wiping up.
   Together, the two concocted a mixture of foods that were all about the size of two human fingers. The flour mixture turned out to be a heap of cookies, and a large mound of meat became roasted bits of chicken on wooden sticks. There were quite a few small cakes, which Lily and Slenka cut into slices and placed on napkins, and there were two platters of what was generally termed “rabbit food” by the male population.
   With the help of Sirius and Remus, who arrived an hour early, Lily moved the sideboard from the dining-room into the large living room, covered it with a cloth, and formed it into a sort of mini buffet table, placing plates and forks at one end of the array of food.
   “It will be gone in about twenty minutes,” Sirius prophesied, “but it looks nice. What are you doing for drinks?”
   “Drinks?” Lily asked. “There should be a crate of butterbeer in the pantry.”
   Slenka coughed slightly.
   “Oh, no,” Lily moaned as Slenka held up the shards of a completely smashed butterbeer bottle. “Don’t tell me the rest of them look like that.”
   “There are ten good bottles left, miss. The rest were broken when Mr. Peter and master were looking for something to eat and slipped on Slenka’s mop in the kitchen. Master said that master would tell miss.”
   Lily sighed. “And he hasn’t. Sirius, would you please…”
   “Right-o!” Sirius snapped to attention, speaking about as quickly as humanly possible. “I will pillage, plunder, rifle, and loot the premises of every restaurant, store, supplier, and rich idiot, and, when I come across more than thirty bottles of the desired inhalation, I will report back without delay inclusive of bottles, settling all matters secular and spiritual.”
   “Wouldn’t a simple ‘yes’ have done the trick?” Remus asked, trying severely not to laugh.
   “Nope,” Sirius grinned. “I am Sirius Black the Mighty and Comical.” With which he Disapparated, and both Lily and Remus finally burst into laughter.
   “I have an idea,” Lily said, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. “Let’s make him a badge.”
   Thirty minutes later, when Sirius Apparated triumphantly into the entrance hall with three rather heavy cases of butterbeer, he was greeted with whoops and a badge which Lily pinned to his shirt. It read, in fancy lettering, Sirius Black the Mighty and Comical, and whenever the word ‘Mighty’ was pressed, the badge would roar triumphantly. Whenever anyone pressed the word ‘Comical’, a string of endless laughter broke out, high-pitched and sounding quite like laughing, hyperventilating hyenas.
   Sirius was delighted, and spent the next few minutes sneaking up behind unsuspecting people like Elphias Doge and letting off a loud, lifelike roar. Elphias jumped so high into the air that his hat fell off and he squashed it when landing on his rump, causing everyone in the room to laugh even if against their wills, and Sirius immediately took the opportunity presented by that moment to accentuate the laughter by pressing the part of the badge marked ‘Comical’.
   Everyone, Lily noticed, was dressed far less formally that they were at the last meeting; no one had quite known what to expect, then, so they had put on semi-dressy robes and tried to make themselves look neat, as if they had been going to a party. The members of the Order had one and all decided that this meeting was more of a gathering among friends than anything else, even if it was called for something of dire importance, and most of them were either in very plain robes or in Muggle jeans and T-shirts. Benjy Fenwick actually wore pajamas underneath a pair of black robes, printed all over with small trains that chugged all around the material, crashing into seams and emitting smoke, which disappeared from the cloth after a few seconds.
   James Apparated into the house at five minutes to eleven, excitement written all over his face with a permanent, large-tipped marker. He found Lily easily; she was pouring butterbeer into a mug for Caradoc Dearborn and laughing at Sirius’ badge, which was holding a roaring contest with itself, the word ‘Mighty’ having split itself in half.
   “Lily!” he hissed quietly, “guess what?”
   “What is it?” Lily asked, interested. “What happened-is it something at the Ministry?”
   “I’ve found out why Albus called this meeting. The Ministry’s planning a field attack on the Death Eaters!”
   “And he wants us to help?” Lily was suddenly very excited. “Do you mean-“
   She fell silent as Albus Apparated into the room, holding a scroll tied shut with ribbon in one hand. The congretation immediately fell silent as soon as they beheld the elderly wizard in the familiar half-moon glasses.
   “Attention, please. I see you are all here-very good. To begin with, I have enlisted another member of the Order of the Phoenix-my brother, as a matter of fact: Aberforth Dumbledore. He has a useful connection with the International Traveling Regulation Squad, a subdepartment of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. This may prove to be of use to us in the future, in the event that we may need to prove the entering or exiting of some people to this country, and in the event that some of us will travel abroad and do not want to cause comments. I vouch for his loyalty to the Order.”
   Albus paused and picked up a glass of butterbeer, coughed, and continued. “Aberforth will be present at the next meeting. However, I have brought a list of our members with me today, one I will ask you to memorize, and which will then be destroyed for safety.”
   “I have a thumbtack,” James offered. “We can hang it on the wall just over the food table.”
   Albus nodded and passed the list to James, who carefully stuck it just at eye level over the sideboard. It read, in scarlet ink:

Members of The Order of the Phoenix

1. Acutus, Anne
2. Black, Sirius
3. Bones, Edgar
4. Dearborn, Caradoc
5. Diggle, Dedalus
6. Doge, Elphias
7. Dumbledore, Aberforth
8. Dumbledore, Albus
9. Fenwick, Benjy
10. Longbottom, Eva
11. Longbottom, Frank
12. Lupin, Remus
13. McGonagall, Minerva
14. McKinnon, Marlene
15. Meadows, Dorcas
16. Medius, Eliante
17. Milton, Amanda
18. Moody, Alastor
19. Pettigrew, Peter
20. Podmore, Sturgis
21. Potter, James
22. Potter, Lily
23. Prewett, Fabian
24. Prewett, Gideon
25. Shacklebolt, Kingsley

   “I have called you together for two specific reasons,” Albus continued, tearing the group’s gaze away from the list. “In the first place, our Minister of Magic is making plans for retirement, as he has informed the members of the Wizengamot recently, in order for us to appoint the nominee for the next Minister, which is one of the lesser-known duties of the Wizengamot.”
   “Terrified scumbag,” Alastor hissed very audibly. Albus purposely overlooked this and continued.
   “This presents a problem of great importance; the Ministry and the magical community relies on the Minister for support and stability. I may have to ask you to stand guard at various places in the Ministry during the few weeks that the new Minister needs to become fully aware of the situation that he or she will be handling.”
   “Albus, who’re you planning to nominate?” the red-headed witch with the blueish-grey eyes asked, voicing the question that was in everyone’s mind.
   Taking off his glasses, the elderly wizard wiped them on his robes, held them up to the light, and put them back on, surveying her intently. “We have two people whose merits are equally balanced. One is a wizard by the name of Zacharias Marjoribanks who currently is the head of the production of a new Muggle Protection Act. He has been a loyal Ministry employee for over twenty years and has re-established free trade between the magical worlds of England and Latvia after the falling-out in 1948. The other is a witch; her name is Millicent Bagnold. She is very well-known for the diplomatic relations that she established between the magical worlds of England and Estonia, Austria, Lithuania, Bulgaria, and Romania, as well as having served on the Wizengamot for thirty-five years. We are not leaning towards any one in particular as of yet.”
   “I see,” the witch chimed. “Will you tell us when you decide?”
   “Eliante, hush,” Benjy Fenwick muttered. “He’ll tell us if we need to know.”
   “I was wondering who Eliante Medius is,” Lily whispered to James. “Who is she, really?”
   “No one important,” James said under his breath. “She works in Arthur Weasley’s department, sort of an under-secretary. Rather average kid.”
   Interrupting the exchange, Remus spoke up. “She was only asking, Benjy. Albus, what else did you call us here for?”
   Albus nodded at Remus. “That brings my to my other point.” He cleared his throat. “The Ministry has recently found the place of concealment used by a group of Lord Voldemort’s supporters. They have, naturally, not released this information to the general public, but they are grouping together their most talented and unknown Aurors to attack in precisely nine days. However, in spite of my warnings, the Minstry is refusing to notify more than fifteen Aurors to this need.”
   “So that’s why that toerag wouldn’t tell me what the fuss was about,” Alastor grumbled. “I noticed something fishy going on, and I collared Merriwether’s assistant in the hallway, but that ruddy load of tosh just grinned and mumbled something about Ministry security.”
   “He might have just been scared out of his wits, Mad-Eye,” Sirius grinned. Alastor glared at him, but let the subject drop. He was becoming accustomed to the name, but still resented Sirius as the main publicisor of it.
   “Regardless of the secrecy of the Ministry,” Albus continued, “I find it necessary to ask you to accompany the Aurors that will be sent. They will not know about you, of course, and they will most likely not know many of you, although Alastor might be easily recognized.” His eyes twinkled across to his old friend. “I suggest-if, of course, that you wish to attend this mission-that you disguise yourselves as inhabitants of the area.”
   “I have one thing to say,” James said clearly, standing up. “I think that by now, we all accept that we’ve got to do something to help, or we’re doomed, as fictionalized as that may sound. Second, since we’ve all arrived here again willingly, knowing what this group is about, I think that we ought to go ahead with whatever Albus says. We know he’s not a Death Eater-in fact, out of everyone else, we’re probably most sure of him. So-if everyone agrees-I move that we don’t to ask ‘if you wish to attend this mission’ or rot like that anymore. Anything we can do has got to help, so we’d better do all we can.”
   He sat back down, and Frank and Eva started clapping; the rest of the group joined in within seconds.
   “Very well,” Albus nodded. “Thank you for your belief and support. Regarding my suggestion, however, I do not believe that it would be wise to have anything written that will disclose our intents, and I will ask you to memorize this list of your names before I destroy it, for your own safety. If it is needed, it may be produced via a Pensive, but it would not be wise to leave a piece of parchment like this in existence when Lord Voldemort is intent on rooting out anyone opposed to his rule. I have compiled it today so as to let you know the definite members of this society.
   “The date of the Ministry’s planned attack is on Saturday, October 13th, six days from today, at precisely eleven-fifty p.m. They do not want the Aurors to have to take mass holidays from work, as that would cause comment, and they wish to travel under cover of darkness. They also do not want to reveal their purposes to the Committee for the Regulation of Magical Traveling, a sub-department related to the International Traveling Regulation Squad, which notes when Apparition is done by a large group of people at the same time. Floo powder is just as dangerous for them. I do not know what method of travelling they are using; they may be riding brooms or using Muggle ways of transportation. They will probably be using the latter so as to avoid comment. This committee is newly formed and is also being protested against, which means that it will likely not be in existence long. However, while it is in existence, I would also like to caution you to use prudence when Apparating and Disapparating from and to our meetings.
   “I do not believe it wise to follow the Ministry, and I therefore suggest using brooms, but to fly as high above the clouds as possible. If there are none, we we can create them.” He pulled his wand and pointed it at a spot on the wall, and, instantly, an intricate map of an unpeopled area appeared. “This is an area just outside Dartmoor, and the Death Eaters, as Sikora believes, make their camp underground, beneath this hill.” He tapped a small point on the map, and the green area dissolved to show a small, earthy hole.
   “We must account for there being more than two exits, and our information gives one exit to be fourteen feet north by northwest of the elm in the middle of this map. The Ministry will most likely be guarding that area, and they will not be composed of enough people to be able to cover any other possible exits. I suggest that we cover the east- and southernmost points on this chart. Surprise is the greatest element that we have in our favor, as well as the great probability that it will be impossible to Apparate into the dugout, because of security charms similar or equal to those around Hogwarts.”
   “Why is that?” Dorcas Meadows wanted to know. “You’d think that they’d want to be able to escape as quickly as possible.”
   Fabian Prewett explained this before Albus could say anything. “Of course they’d want to escape, but they also wouldn’t want us to be able to penetrate right into their hiding-place. Would put ‘em in a bit of a hole, wouldn’t it?”
   Dorcas blushed. “I’m not stupid. I know that! But I heard a rumor about a new charm being developed that would let people Apparate out of places, but not in. Isn’t that true? I thought it was.”
   “What berk thought that up?” Alastor growled. “It certainly isn’t true. If it were, every dodgy git could use it for his own good. No, if that codswallop were put into law and made public, we’d never be able to catch another Death Eater. It also hasn’t been invented yet, thank Merlin. Really, you should know that.”
   “Alastor, you’re embarrassing her,” Kingsley Shacklebolt said gruffly, as well he might, for Dorcas’ face resembled a scarlet Gryffindor wall pennant and she looked ready to cry. “What else, Albus?”
   Amanda surreptitiously passed Dorcas a handkerchief, and Albus resumed speaking.
   “I move that we meet at Benjy Fenwick’s house at nine o’clock on Friday evening. We will be able to spend the night flying to Dartmoor. I advise bringing tents, food, blankets, and a change of clothing, though we may not have time to change, depending on the outcome of the attack. You may have to Disapparate from the moor as quickly as possible if you cannot escape any other way, so you should leave an extra pair of robes at Benjy’s home.”
   “You’ve all got full permission to use my bathroom,” Benjy added. “You might need to, if you get mucked up out there. I’ll have a stack of towels in there, so you won’t have to go out into the wizarding world looking like some sort of swamp monster.”
   “Eh, it’s all right; they’ll just think you’re Snape,” James grinned evilly, and those familiar with Severus started laughing gleefully, excluding Albus and Lily. The former wore a look of disapproving, absent indifference, but Lily was glaring ferociously at the lot of them, making those not aware of the opposition between the former Gryffindors and Severus Snape look more than mildly confused.
   “Are there any questions,” Albus interrupted, cutting off the laughter before it went any further and developed into extremely snide comments that would probably incline Lily towards blowing her top.
   “Do we have to wear dark clothes?” a pudgy witch with brown hair inquired.
   “I would suggest so, yes, for the flight. Black robes would be ideal, and probably ones with hoods, as giving away your identity is not the best of ideas in the situation we intend to project ourselves into. However, the group sent by the Ministry will likely be wearing their Auror robes-hooded and black with a gold badge.”
   “I can provide badges,” Gideon Prewett volunteered. “I know exactly what they look like. I was one of the people that approved the designs. They only have names on their reverse sides, so that won’t be a problem. How many do we need?”
   “Twenty-five for safety,” Albus answered. “I would not advise Aberforth’s presence on this mission, as he is being kept on long shifts with the department we most would not like to antagonize, but we may need the badges at a later time. Do you know all of the members of the Order of the Phoenix?”
   Gideon grinned. He took a deep breath and began, speaking as quickly as he could. “Anne Acutus, Sirius Black, Edgar Bones, Caradoc Dearborn, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Aberforth Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore, Benjy Fenwick, Eva Longbottom, Frank Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadows, Eliante Medius, Amanda Milton, Alastor Moody, Peter Pettigrew, Sturgis Podmore, James Potter, Lily Potter, Fabian Prewett, Gideon Prewett, and Kingsley Shacklebolt.” Proudly, he looked around. “Do you want small identification discs on the backs of the badges or something?”
   Very impressed, everyone fell silent for a moment before ideas sprang up again.
   “How about an ‘OP’ etched into it?”
   “Too hard to read if you’re in a hurry or something-what about a glowing feather?”
   “Or a picture of a phoenix? It wouldn’t be a good idea for it to glow-if someone saw it, they’d know that it was fake because of the reflection of the light. But anyone could see a large picture of a phoenix, couldn’t they?”
   “Yeah, let’s go for Diggle’s idea. Could you put a phoenix on the back of those badges?”
   “I could design the phoenix,” Lily offered. “I used to draw quite a lot.”
   “Sure,” Gideon nodded. “Could you have it in two days?”
   “Do you work at the Ministry? I can give it to you Wednesday.”
   “Can you finish the badges by Friday,” Albus asked. “We can hand them out when we arrive at Benjy’s house, if so.”
   “Sure,” Gideon nodded. “I-“
   “He used to be a swot,” Fabian grinned, poking Gideon in the ribs. “He’ll have them done Wednesday night, then.”
   Gideon snorted. “Shut up,” he replied, irritated. “Albus, I can have them by Friday.”
   Albus patiently continued. “Good. I believe that is all, and I can conclude our meeting. I will provide more detailed information at Benjy’s on Friday night. Please Disapparate no more than two at once.”
   He stepped away from the front of the room, shook Alastor’s hand, winked at James and Lily, detached the list of names from the wall, and Disapparated. The rest of the party followed suit, except for Sirius, Remus, and Peter, who stayed on to chat a bit and help consume the rest of the food sitting on the makeshift buffet table.
   While the boys lounged in the living room, talking vividly about the meeting and eating heartily, Lily drew her old sketchbook she had taken on the honeymoon out from one of the bookcases in the library, collected a few pencils, erasers, and a sharpener, and curled up in an armchair in the living room. After crossing through a few sketches, however, she stood back up and returned to the library, searching through every encyclopedia, dictionary, fairy-tale collection, novel, schoolbook, and magical creature reference on the shelves. She was looking for phoenix photographs, paintings, and drawings, as she was not quite sure what exactly a phoenix looked like. Lily had hardly seen Fawkes in Albus’ office, and that was her only exposure to a live phoenix.
   “C’mon, Lily, let’s see,” Remus nagged after about forty-five minutes. As if on cue, the other three swarmed over to her armchair and leaned over the back of it, jostling each other for the best view. James was pushed onto the floor, leaving the field to Sirius, Peter, and Remus, so, with a grin, he placed himself on the arm of the chair, just next to Lily and just in front of Sirius.
   “Prongs!”
   “What?” James asked innocently. “I’m not in your way, am I?”
   “Budge up, idiot,” Sirius said pleasantly, elbowing James’ head out of the way. It quickly evaded the elbow, however, and returned to its quite obnoxious position in a matter of seconds. Irritated, Sirius left his position and cadged the other arm of the chair, quite surrounding Lily.
   “I feel like a dwarf on a rather large throne,” Lily commented. “Or like a veela.”
   “I sometimes think you are one,” James said thoughtfully, kissing the top of her head. “A completely batty veela, though.”
   “Excuse me?”
   “Well, you married him,” Remus grinned.
   “You could still save your reputation,” Sirius suggested, winking. “Elope with me, and I’ll take you places you’ve never been before.”
   “I doubt that,” Lily said seriously, tilting her head to the side. “Where on this earth have I not been yet?”
   “Setting aside about half the planet, we’ve got a nice deluxe shower area in the bathroom back at the flat that I don’t believe you’ve seen yet. With a shower curtain and mildew and everything.”
   “Oh, dear,” Lily murmured. “I believe I’ll have to turn that offer down. Regretfully, of course.”
   “Of course,” Peter agreed. “But let’s see what you’ve drawn.”
   “You three will have to pick which one we’ll submit to be put on the badges,” she informed them, flicking through the sketchbook. “There we are. All right-I’ve got about seven or eight drawings; you choose. Unamimously, preferably.”
   Most of the drawings were full-length ones, but there were two of the head of a phoenix, sketched from different angles. However, the men all picked the same picture: a sketch of a phoenix from behind, advertising its long and luxiurious tail, with its head craned around and watching the viewer.
   “They’re all quite good,” Remus said generously, “but that one looks best, will probably be the easiest to see because it’s rather large, has lots of lines so it’ll be more visible…yeah, go with that one.”
   “All right,” Lily agreed. “I could really send it to Gideon right now; should I?”
   Sirius frowned. “It might get intercepted.”
   “But then there’s no chance of it being seen at the Ministry tomorrow, in case anyone’s poking about Gideon’s desk,” James put in. “Send one owl as a decoy, and one-no, wait. Send the first one out with the real letter, and the second one with a false one. If anyone’s watching our post, they’ll be expecting a decoy owl to fly out first.”
   “Very good,” Remus applauded. “So we’ll be painfully obvious and stupid, so unless we have an observer that’s twenty times more idiotic than we are, that letter will get to Gideon. I’d make a copy, though, if I were you, and send that one out, so you’ll have this one in case anything happens.”
   “I keep thinking I’m in an odd spy story, probably an Agatha Christie,” Lily observed. “You know, where the main characters are always being watched and trailed and are constantly on the verge of death or kidnapping or something like that.”
   “That meeting didn’t help the mood either,” James commented. “I do feel as if I’m about to be jumped from behind.”
   Peter grinned. “Probably because you-“
   “AAARRRGHHH!!”
   Sirius had been silently sneaking to a spot just behind James, and just before Peter could finish his sentence, he reached out and snapped James into a very tight headlock. James, of course, bolted out a scream as loud as if he were being broken on the rack, and matters were not made better by the fact that he could not see Sirius’ face and that his attacker was wearing black robes that covered his hands.
   “Lily! RUN!” he howled desperately. “Get out of here! Disapparate! Don’t give anything away! RUN, all of you!”
   However, even James, in a headlock though he was, could not fail to see that everyone else in the room was keeling over with laughter, and, highly embarrassed, he went completely limp.
   “That was not funny,” he said weakly.
   “Oh, but it was,” Sirius grinned wickedly. “You should have heard yourself.” He adopted the high-pitched squeal of a cat being fed hot coals. “Lily, oh, Lily, save yourself! Save the Order! Look after Dumbledore! I’ve always loved Snape!”
   “Yes, very funny,” James muttered wearily. “I will always cherish this moment forever in the deepest, darkest depths of my consciousness.” With which he whisked Lily’s sketchbook out of her lap and dealt Sirius a resounding whack on the side of his head, felling his friend to the floor. “This moment, of course.”