Post by eD admin on Mar 11, 2009 16:29:51 GMT -5
"They're calling it a war."
THE WHISPERS IN HOGWARTS OVER THE PAST YEAR HAVE BEEN GROWING LOUDER...
"That’s nonsense, Abbie! That stupid rumor about the Walpurgy Knights and the Band or whatever is just rubbish."
...BUT THERE ARE ALWAYS DOUBTS.
“That’s not what we’ve heard.”
“What do you know, Prewett?”
“A fair sight more than you, Burns. We’ve been talking to folks with brains – reckon you’ve seen a few of those, have you?”
“And it’s called the Order, Burnykins.”
“The what?”
“The Order —”
“—of the Phoenix.”
“Organized by Dumbledore himself.”
“Few professors are supposed to be involved, too.”
“Reckon they think this Voldypants person is serious.”
“Voldypants?”
“Oooh, I’ve heard of that! Roberta, they say it’s a powerfully dark wizard. He’s called himself Lord—”
“Voldemort, yeah. Sounds like a rash--”
“-- or a wicked good hex, if you ask us.”
But students are no longer the only ones whispering. On the crest of the 1967 school year, rumors have been slithering amongst the staff of the proud Hogwarts as well, and there is a dark presence with its own set of chilly whispers creeping over the far hills of the country. The Daily Prophet’s obituaries have been getting a bit crowded, almost as much as its missing persons section. Two men, in particular, are troubled by this.
ONE BY THE SECRETS HE IS ATTEMPTING TO KEEP...
“Mister minister, sir – er – it’s – it’s Bones, sir. She – she, er, says her brother has some ques---”
“No time, no time, Irving. And tell Edgar – tell him – well, I’m very busy, and I simply don’t have time for him. And tell Miss Bones that she’s better off attending to her actual business – young thing thinks she gets a grunt job and suddenly she can upturn the whole ministry’s process. I’ll never…”
“So then, sir, you – you’d like me to just send the standard response to this letter, then? I don’t see how it’s a headmaster’s business any more than it is Amel—”
“Yes, yes, yes. Please inform Albus that he’s got no business here in the ministry, and I will handle my job just fine without him. And please send in Brode. I want to see him concerning the, er, the unfortunate Fawcett death.”
“Terrible tragedy, sir. Talented young auror, still in training. Do we know what caused it yet, sir?”
“The – er – I’m afraid that’s none of your business. Just send Brode in. And tell him to bring that friend of his that’s handy with memory modification.”
“No time, no time, Irving. And tell Edgar – tell him – well, I’m very busy, and I simply don’t have time for him. And tell Miss Bones that she’s better off attending to her actual business – young thing thinks she gets a grunt job and suddenly she can upturn the whole ministry’s process. I’ll never…”
“So then, sir, you – you’d like me to just send the standard response to this letter, then? I don’t see how it’s a headmaster’s business any more than it is Amel—”
“Yes, yes, yes. Please inform Albus that he’s got no business here in the ministry, and I will handle my job just fine without him. And please send in Brode. I want to see him concerning the, er, the unfortunate Fawcett death.”
“Terrible tragedy, sir. Talented young auror, still in training. Do we know what caused it yet, sir?”
“The – er – I’m afraid that’s none of your business. Just send Brode in. And tell him to bring that friend of his that’s handy with memory modification.”
AND ONE BY THE SECRETS HE IS TRYING TO UNCOVER...
“I just – I don’t understand. Only a few months ago he was here, asking to be taken on as a teacher. Why on earth would he—”
“I do not think he was prepared to be hired, Minerva. I think – or rather, I have a bit of a hunch – that he merely wanted to resurface in a public way. He wanted to prove he existed, to turn rumors to facts. I expect he’ll be out to recruit our students when he feels he’s lifted his name enough.”
“But – but why on earth—where’s he gone to? Where’s he hiding? Who’s helping this monster, Albus?”
“Alas…it is, at this point, but smoke and mirrors. He wishes us to wait, if you will, permanently on edge – on the eve of destruction, with clouded senses, simply waiting for our absolution.”
