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September 1978 – Hogsmeade Village

The world was a dark place. The days were dangerous and nights even more so. No one was safe anymore and no one could be trusted. There were attacks on innocent people everyday and the incidents of missing people were increasing rapidly. Someone could be there one day and gone the next. But it was impossible to know if they were in danger or endangering others. People were second guessing themselves, looking around corners and constantly checking their backs. Any slip of suspicious behaviour could be disastrous for either side and hiding places were scarce these days.

The mood of the day seemed to have affected every aspect of life; skies were bleak, jobs were dull, senses were heightened and depression and fear covered most of the land. The hope that had once shone brightly had now diminished into fading embers and those left fighting the darkness of the world were struggling ignite the ashes of hope once more.

A once busy village that hummed with the sounds of students and public house regulars, Hogsmeade village had become a skeleton of it’s former self. Though deep in the Scottish highlands, it was not far enough away to escape the darkness that had infected every part of the wizarding world. There was no wondering idly through the streets anymore, in fact it was rare that anyone could be spotting walking through the streets at all. A thick layer of snow coated any sins of life and only flickers of light could be seen through the closed curtains of each tired looking building. Shops had permanent closure signs, hinting to some unfortunate circumstance of their previous owners and many buildings had broken windows, some were even burnt out, leaving only crumbling shells.

Following a winding overgrown pathway veering away from the dilapidated village, a small shabby looking building stood isolated and alone from any other architecture, bar a small outhouse to its right that looked like it might fall over with the next gust of wind. Though most of the windows of the building boarded up or had thick black curtains covering their windows, one hinted to some life within as a flickering light could be seen through a curtain gap. Occasionally dark masses would obscure the light from view, suggesting that someone was located within. Closer to the building, it became clear, just how run down the building was. White paint was peeling off of the exterior wall and damp was visible in the very structure. Mould and fungus had begun to grow in numerous cracks and crevasses of the building and several of the windows had been smashed in, with no attempt made to repair them. The small garden and grounds surrounding the building were completely overrun with weeds and flowers, which had pollinated wildly in disorganised patches; clearly no landscaping had been considered. A broken sign outside of the building swung loosely in the wind, creaking with each motion due to the build up of rust. The sign itself depicted a worn image of the head of a wild boar, though one would have to be standing directly underneath to see this or read the even less visible writing: ‘The Hog’s Head.’ There were a few broken pub benches and tables scattered around the front of the building, weeds entangling their legs and growing upwards, suffocating the wood. Chairs riddled with damp and woodworm way abandoned, some standing, some fallen and broken glasses scattered on the frozen stone of the ground, a booby trap waiting for it victim. To the side of the front door of the building which swung looses on its hinges occasionally bashing into the wall, causing a knocking sound, stood an object that was very out of place in its current environment: a well polished and clearly cared for blue motorcycle, it’s side car as well maintained and standing strong against the broken back ground of the building. What was even more curious about this object, was the lack of tracks leading up to it’s current standing place. It’s shining chrome body glinted proudly as the moonlight danced off of it beautifully to the winds song.

Should one ignore the very old and filthy looking ‘closed’ sign on the door to the pub, and walk inside the empty bar space, they would not be surprised in the least to see that it’s interior was just and downtrodden and dirty as its exterior. Again, chairs lay scattered, and broken glass lay in wait for any unsuspected sod whose soles of their shoes had worn just a little too much. Mountainous planes of candle wax decorated the untidy tables, still holding the finished drinks of punters long gone. A stale smell lingered in the air, yet the source of the odour was unclear, and it was unlikely that anyone would be sane enough to search the room for it. The windows of the room were just as filthy as the outside, mould and damp climbing and clinging to their panes. The blanket of snow outside had been replaced with a thick layer of dust and dirt within, though here, footprints were visible. Chaotic in motion, there were several owners and patterns each telling their own story: the customer who had had one to many, the man who had looked the wrong way at another and paid dearly for it, the lazy bartender, only moving around behind the bar itself and the elderly man who would simply sit at the same stool each and everyday. The pub could easily be described in one way: a dive.

However unbeknownst to the regular visitors of the establishment, who were probably to intoxicated to realise, there was another room within the failing building. A much smaller room to the side of the bar, whose door was slightly ajar and was where the current source of light was located. A soft murmur of discussion could be heard the closer to the door one would get and the gap between the cracked wooden frame and the peeling paint of the door showed the contents of the room clearly enough.

An interesting looking group of people of mixed ages, genders and ethnicities were grouped together in the small space. Many had situated themselves around a table that was much too large for the space, and were sat on an assortment or chairs stools and benches. Though the table was large, some of the group members had to situate themselves elsewhere in the space for lack of room around the wooden object. Some sat on various surfaces, while others simply stood, listening to the conversation. The room itself was only illuminated by a few dwindling candles, but even in the minimal light it was clear that this room was in a much better state than the rest of the building. For a start there was much less clutter, and the only glasses lying around were being used by the occupants of the room. The surfaces had been cleaned and the floor was also free from dust and dirt. A small bed was situated in the corner, neatly made, with an organised cabinet to its side. Next to that was a small kitchenette area, again in a tidy and well maintain condition. It was clear that this was were the owner of the pub on the other side of the door lived, though it seemed odd that his living quarters was much cleaner and liveable than the area available to the public.

As for the rooms occupants, they were an odd looking bunch indeed.

At the head of the table, standing with his fists leant on the wooden surface as he spoke, was a tall wizard, whose beard was long enough to tuck into his belt and who wore half moon spectacles on his wrinkled, friendly looking features. Beside the slender man, who was clearly the leader of this strange group, sat two more elderly looking men to his left and one, slightly younger looking man, whose features looked stern and tired. The stern man watched the other group members intently, chewing on his lip and not permitting any emotion to remove the stern frown of his features. This man was Alastor Moody, one of the most talented Aurors at the ministry of magic, only made possibly by his lack of trust for almost anyone, though this was hardly unheard of in these times. The man currently addressing the room was a close friend of Alastor’s, Professor Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the founder of The Order of the Phoenix, the organisation who was currently meeting. The two elder men on the other side of Dumbledore were Elphias Dodge and Magnus McKinnon, both of whom were well trusted within the organisation and old friends of Dumbledore’s. Magnus was a senior Auror at the ministry and worked with Alastor on a day-to-day basis, and had done for many years. Elphias also worked in the ministry, though the department of International Magical Cooperation was nowhere near as exciting as the Auror Department, for which half the occupants of the room worked. Both men listened intently to their dear friend, as another elderly man busied himself behind them, cleaning away a few empty butter beer bottles and whipping another surface down. This man had a remarkable resemblance to the current speaker, which was almost certainly because they were indeed, brothers. Abaforth Dumbledore also happened to be the owner of the pub within which the secretive meeting was taking place, which would explain why he was probably the most distracted man in the room, trying his best to clean up after his fellow order members. Sat closely to the current conversation were two more members of staff of Hogwarts, the stern looking Minerva McGonagall, wearing her trademark emerald robes and frown of concentration and the immensely loyal Rubeus Hagrid, who owed his life to Dumbledore and would follow him willingly into the depths of hell should that man ask, which was probably why he was sitting at this table now. Hagrid was a very large man, and as such took up a bench and most of one side of the table, which may have contributed to the current seating situation within the room. To Hagrid’s other side and teetering dangerously on the end of the bench they were sharing, sat Arabella Figg, a smart, middle aged woman, who listened intently to the words of Dumbledore, taking each syllable in as if it were made of gold.

On the other side of the table, both stood and seated was a large group of physically fit looking individuals, all simultaneously looking like they had witnessed the worst of the world, but also as though these sights hadn’t effected them; they were trained to hide emotions. Seated by the table, within this group, were a young couple, both leaning casually on the table top, arms affectionately touching. This was Alice and Frank Longbottom, newlyweds and two of the most talented Aurors in the ministry, both of whom worked underneath Moody himself. Next to them sat the McKinnon brothers, sons of Magnus, each as talented as the next and following in their fathers large footsteps. Each had an Adonis like facial structure and a perfectly messy beach blonde looks. Mark the oldest had the most serious expression on his face and was sat next to his youngest brother Noah, who was also the tallest of the three. Thomas, the middle brother with something to prove, sat on Noah’s other side, listening intently with a grimace on his face as he expressed the anger of the world in his eyes. Three older looking men in their 30s and 40s stood behind the younger Aurors and had clearly seen and experience more in their lifetimes, each baring the signs of this in their own way. Caradoc Dearborn’s charming features and demeanour almost hid his scaring memories perfectly, but there was a glint in his eyes that showed all he had lost during this war. A rather manic looking, Sturgis Podmore, rung his scarred, tattooed hands slowly, an unsettling smirk smeared on his face. He was unhinged, though his results meant no one could argue with his methods. He was one Auror that dark forces did not want to meet. Beside him was Edgar Bones, who frequently worked with, and cleared up after, Sturgis. He was a well built man whose jacket barely hid his muscular arms and whose smile was one of the rarest sights of the wizarding world, reserved only to sneer at his victories. Finally beside the three middle aged men, stood two almost identical slightly younger, red haired men, both of whom stood with their arms crossed, their full attention given to their old headmaster. Though similar there were subtly differences between Fabian and Gideon Prewett, for example Fabian had a much more welcoming face and this contrasted Gideons hard exterior. War does that sometimes, makes people hard and protective.

However it isn’t just warriors that win wars, and as such there were also a number of intelligence agents within the Order. Dedalus Diggle, a middle aged man and close friend of everyone in the room, whose beard was dotted with grey, stood with his arms flooded over his chest and pint on butter beer in his hand. Diggle was a worker in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry, and therefore and invaluable source for the older. Benjy Fenwick also worked in the Ministry in the Curse Breaking Department, making him another valuable resource. He was a young man, with a head of tight black curls and was currently situated lazily on cabinet next to his half drunk glass of fire whiskey, wearing his charming smile and a rather outrageous pair of checked trousers. Amelia Bones, younger sister of the stern Edgar, worked in another Ministry Department, Magical Law enforcement, and had a rather personal vendetta of avenging the death of her parents. She was intelligent and quick witted, which surprised people given that she was fairly young. The petite brown haired girl had sat herself next to Benjy, her close friend, and was smirking at something funny that he had just said under his breath. It wasn’t just within the Ministry that Albus has sourced intelligence agents for the order. Emmeline Vance owned a small writing supplies shop in Diagon Alley, allowing her to observe from where she worked. The tall blonde was a close friend with Hestia Jones, a young Gringotts worker with thick, long, dark hair and a permanent warm smile on her features, who she was currently standing with in the room. Though her friend was kind and open, Emmeline herself was rather suspicious woman, who couldn’t help but eye some on the other members of the group with mistrust, perhaps the most, Mundungus Fletcher. Mundungus was the Order’s eyes and ears in the darker, dodgy places of the wizarding world, and he had a look to suggest it. It was well know to most of the group that he had only agreed to work for the Order because he had been caught by Moody, who would have thrown him straight in Azkaban had he not seen potential in the man, and still would if he ever stepped out of line. Mundungus was currently skulking idly at the side of the room, under the intense watch of Moody, which he was well aware of.

Now we come to the youngest members of the group, eight newly graduated revolutionaries determined to make a differences in this war, and Dumbledore’s secret weapon. A close-knit family, and having suffered through the war together already with casualties, it was unsurprising that they were hard to separate. James Potter was sat casually on a chair, leaning forward and resting his elbows, listening intently to the words of his old headmaster, his scruffy black hair and glasses both obscuring his eyes. Sat next to him, with her hand rested comfortingly on his back was the auburn-haired Lily Evans, James’ girlfriend of over a year and soul mate. The two shared something at the very centre of their souls and this could be seen clearly by everyone. Lily was a sweet girl, working as an assistant to Elphias in the department for International Magical Cooperation and was excelling in her chosen career, her personality liked by all who knew her. Next to them, dressed in biker leathers and boots, with a handsome smile of confidence rested on his face and his arm leant on a near by surface. Sirius Black oozed self-belief and determination, which was probably why himself and James were currently top of their Auror training course, led by Moody and overseen by Caradoc and Edgar. Close to him, a timid looking blonde girl with waves of curls and whose true smile had not been seen in a long time, stood Mary MacDonald. Mary had joined the order for her safety, which may seem odd to some, putting herself in a rebellious organisation so she would not be hurt, but that was because the only place she felt safe was with her friends, and given the traumas she had already experienced, she needed to feel that safety. Mary was not looking at the others in the room, but instead looking intently at her hands, though this did not stop her from listening to Dumbledore’s words, even if they added to her growing fear. Standing near Mary and leaning on the back of James’ chair was Dorcas Meadowes, a pretty, young, trainee healer with a heart of gold, but a determination to change the world as well. The brunette stood next to her closest friend and roommate Marlene Mackinnon, the daughter of Magnus and sister to the three blonde brothers, as well as barmaid of the leaky cauldron in Diagon Alley. Her hands were rested on her hips, exaggerating her curves in a way that was second nature to her and her lips were pouted in concentration at Dumbledore’s words. Sat on a chair next to the red headed Lily, was a scruffy looking Remus Lupin, desperate to listen, but too tired to catch every word. Occasionally he ran his hands over his face to keep himself awake at the late hour, but this made the bones in his arm creek painfully, causing him to grimace slightly. Finally to his other side was Peter Pettigrew, a young boy desperate to prove himself worthy of his spot in the room, but at a loss with how to do so. He fidgeted a little as he stood and listened, thoughts in the back of his mind telling him it was pointless him being there, but he kept these thoughts at bay.

These thirty-two made up the vigilante group, the Order of the Phoenix. And these thirty-two, were the only salvation the wizarding world had left.





So this is the sequal to 'Kings and Queens' and takes place after the cliff hanger of that story and the Marauders and girls have now left Hogwarts and entered the real world, with is much darker. I'm super excited about this fic so I would love love love to know what you think and if you have any suggestions!

(This fic will be more cannon accurate with people the right ages etc)

Also as there are new characters in the order I'll share with you my faceclaims! :)

James: Aaron Taylor Johnson

Sirius: Ben Barnes

Remus: Andrew Garfield

Peter: Dane DeHaan

Lily: Karen Gillan

Dorcas: Jenna Coleman

Marlene: Tamsin Egerton

Mary: Hannah Murray

Young Moody: David Gandy

Mr McKinnon: Sean Bean

Elphias: Ian McKellen

Alice: Carey Mulligan

Frank: Colin Morgan

Young Mrs Figg: Michelle Gomez

Benjy: Robert sheehan

Caradoc: Gerard Butler

Diggle: Andrew Lincoln

Edgar: Idris Elba

Emmeline: Lily James

Gideon: Jack O'Connell

Fabian: Richard Madden

Young Mundungus: Joeseph Gilgun

Sturgis: Tom Hardy

Hestia: Emelia Clarke

Amelia: Jessica Sula

Mark: Jamie Dornan

Thomas: Jeremy Irvine

Noah: William Moseley

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