One Step Ahead part I | Sirius Black

Chapter 50

Gwen stands nervously in front of the gargoyle.

Professor Flitwick had neglected to tell her the password, only that the headmaster would like to see her. She'd have rather stayed with Sirius and celebrated Gryffindor's quidditch win. But alas, this apparently took precedence. Though she did plan on following through on her promise to Sirius.

The Veela sighs, peering at the statue as she thinks. She didn't know much about the headmaster, they never spoke much. At least not until he found her almost passed out in the hallway.

Tilting her head, she wonders briefly if it's anything like the knocker on the door to the Ravenclaw common room. Gwen always thought that if you were close enough to the answer it would let you in.

"Um, hello," Gwen starts awkwardly. "I have a standing appointment with the Headmaster. The name is Gwenyth Whitlock. So if you don't mind..."

It takes a few moments, and then it comes to life, stepping aside and revealing stairs. Gwen let's out a passive hum before walking past the statue. She pauses, gently patting it on the back like it's alive. Then she continues on, climbing up the spiraling stairs until she passes through another archway. She'd never been to his office before.

The clutter was astounding.

The room was circular, full of knickknacks and odd mechanisms that puffed smoke and made whiring and ticking noises. She'd never seen so many portraits, all moving. Some were reading, some napping in their chairs. She quickly realizes that they are old headmistresses and Headmasters from the school. There were many tables, though all dwarfed in comparison to the large desk sitting on clawed feet. Behind it sits a beautiful Phoenix on its perch, and Gwen feels more at ease at the sight. Perhaps the creature would be on her side. If there were sides to whatever it was she was here for.

She wrinkles her nose slightly when she spies the sorting hat, still unsure on her feelings towards the blasted thing.

"Miss Whitlock, I see you've found your old friend."

Gwen peers over her shoulder, not at all startled by the Headmaster's appearance. He's dressed in his normal grey and silver robes, looking every bit the wise old wizard he always had.

"I'd hardly consider us friends," Gwen muses, turning back to face the slumped piece of brown fabric. "I think he's rather cheeky. I reckon peeves likes him."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore says with mirth, taking his seat at his desk. Gwen joins him moments later, asking curiously,

"You were in Gryffindor, sir?"

He nods, smiling as he counters, "What gave it away?"

Gwen feels her lips twitch slightly before she says, "You've amassed a collection of what I would probably consider junk. It reminds me of the Gryffindor common room."

He smiles knowingly as he nods, saying calmly, "They do have the best chairs."

Gwen feels a prickle run up her spine. He was a match for her wit. And while she wasn't particularly book-smart, she prided herself on just knowing things. Oddities. Conclusions on such things based on intuition. It seemed the headmaster had that same habit.

"Why am I here?" Gwen asks simply, her eyes drifting from him to the Phoenix sitting properly behind him. It calls to her in some way, her eyes meeting its amber ones.

"His name is Fawkes," Dumbledore interrupts her studying. He smiles again at the unimpressed look on her face, deciding he liked the charm of the girl. He'd heard a great deal about her from Filius, especially the parts where she doubted her intelligence. An error he surmised, especially of those who agreed.

"You see, Miss Whitlock. Veela are rather understudied creatures, especially when it comes to the maturing of their magic. I'm curious—"

"Forgive me Professor," Gwen interrupts, growing slightly irritated. She wasn't sure why, just that she felt he was going to ask something of her. And if he was, that made them equals. Or at least closer to equals.

"A creature of near human intelligence," Gwen recites, her eyes calm and insistent on his. She nearly smiles at his surprise. "That's what the ministry classifies me as. Were you aware?"

He's quiet for a moment. He leans back in his chair and admits, "No. I was not."

"It may be what the ministry thinks of me, but I would appreciate it if you didn't treat me as such. I know enough about the history of Veela, I've read every book this school has to offer on it. Because when I don't understand something, I fix it. I don't like reading, but I didn't have any particular guidance other than books."

She clears her throat, crossing her legs at the ankle as she mulls over her next words.

"Now," She says. "What I don't know is how to use that knowledge. I'm in the dark in that sense. And my guess is, that my magic may be of use to myself and you. So, I'm willing to listen to your advice. But not advice I can get from a bloody book."

She hopes she hasn't gone too far, her bluntness had never been her greatest quality. But then a short laugh erupts from the old man. It's followed by more guffaws, his head leaning back as he wipes away a tear under his eye. Gwen smiles, never having seen him so amused before. He chuckles and holds out a metal container. She hesitantly takes it, opening the lid and growing giddy at what's inside. Acid pops.

"You know, usually predators offer candy to children," Gwen notes, though she still takes the treat and unwraps it before popping it in her mouth.

Dumbledore chuckles some more, saying, "I just happen to also have a thing for sweets."

He sighs and steeples is fingers together, resting them against his bearded chin as he relents, "I'm ashamed to admit that people don't give you enough credit, Gwenyth. Myself included."

She quirks a brow and shrugs, "It's not that. It's just that I have a pretty good sense of when someone wants something from me."

His smile fades slightly and he says seriously, "What I'm proposing is dangerous. And must remain between us for now."

"Of course," She replies, nodding. As far as she was concerned, everything in this room stayed between them and the portraits. And Fawkes.

"I would like to request that you join me and a group of others in fighting Lord Voldemort."

She stills slightly, eyes widening. She hated that name, hated when it was used out loud. Largely because he likely had a hand in the death of her mother. She shudders slightly but waves for him to continue.

"I believe that you would be a great asset to the Order," He says firmly, eyeing her cautiously. Like she may explode. She only narrows her eyes and asks,

"The Order?"

Dumbledore smiles, his voice soft yet steady as he says,

"The Order of the Phoenix."