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"Are you sure he'll believe our lie?" Fleamont asked Orion again, shifting his weight nervous from leg to leg.

"Even if he doesn't, there's nothing he can do about it. We aren't his students, he can't manipulate and push us around. Keep your occlumency shield up, do not react to his threats, he may sound like he means them but he's just bluffing. But do not hesitate," Orion emphasises the last word, making sure everyone gets it. "If he sees you hesitating, he'll swoop upon it like a hawk."

Fleamont nodded, swallowing thickly. Euphemia couldn't come as she had caught a fever last night. She had insisted, but both Fleamont and Orion had resisted and told her to rest.

"What did he say the password was?" Fleamont asked as they neared the gargoyle which guarded the Headmaster's office.

"Sherbet lemons," Orion said the password to the gargoyle. It jumped to the side, revealing a moving staircase.

"You first," Fleamont gestured. Orion glared at him, but proceeded nevertheless.

He glances back at Fleamont before raising his hand towards the griffin door knocker. As soon as he touches it, Dumbledore's voice startles them both. "Enter."

Orion again glances back at Fleamont, before entering. He had to admit he was impressed with the multitude of Wizarding trinkets and apparatus stored in the office. Even his parents didn't have this much, which was quite a lot, considering his parents's habit of wanting everything and anything.

Fleamont wasn't phased by the variety of magical objects in the office. Persumably he had been her before. Considering his penchant for getting into ridiculous fistfights, it was not surprising.

"You called us professor?" Fleamont asked stiffly, while Orion was taking in the office with carefully concealed wonder.

"I believe I also called your wife, Fleamont," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "However, I do not see her anywhere."

"The wife has a name, Dumbledore," Orion glared, finished marvelling the artefacts in the office.

Dumbledore ignored him, turning to face Fleamont again.

"I am currently assembling the greatest wizards, both students and of age, to fight against Voldemort, in an association called as the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling. "I wish for you and your wife to join us, Fleamont. Both of you are extraordinary duellers and aurors."

"Are you actually offering students a membership," Fleamont exclaimed, agast. "They're children! They shouldn't be fighting evil, they should be studying!"

"What about me?" Orion asked rather heatedly.

"You," Dumbledore fixed him under a penetrating glare. "Will be spying on Voldemort for us. If you do not want to get sent to Azkaban that it."

Both Orion and Fleamont were furious. How dare Dumbledore threaten them in such way?

"I would not prefer to do that Dumbledore," Orion answered stiffly, keeping the sneer in his voice minimum, though with quite difficulty.

"Very well then," Dumbledore said simply. "If you find aurors at your footstep, do not ask me to interfere."

"As if I would," Orion answered, his voice drenched in contempt. "I'm sure I'll have better work to do."

Dumbledore said nothing, smiling benignly, with a twinkle in his eyes.

With a huff, Orion exited. Fleamont shot Dumbledore a nasty glare before going himself.

"I guess it's time for plan B," Dumbledore mused, watching them leave.

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