APRIL FADED INTO MAY and while it didn't happen right away, Sirius had eventually found himself back with his band of brothers. Although he was admittedly still having to work rather hard to fully gain back their trust.

It took a lot of convincing from Clara to get James to sit down with him at all. Even with the empty feeling she had in her chest at the end of her discussion with him in the Boathouse, she could tell that Sirius loved her brother.

At very least, Clara thought she could try and put in a good word with James. Despite her own anger, she would've felt horrible if she couldn't even attempt to bring her brother some closure on the matter. Her brother had been stewing in anger for weeks and it was quite unlike him.

But, Clara herself had yet to welcome Sirius back in so warmly. What happened in the Boathouse was still too fresh in her mind. To her, there was no need to pretend as if they were friends anymore – if they had ever really been friends at all.

So, she went back to spending more time with Fabian and likewise Gideon, along with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team simply by proximity.

It was exactly how things were meant to be and she was happy. Just like she was happy before Sirius had started to blur the lines of their social circles for no reason at all. Back before he made her believe that there was some deeper connection between them.

At least she knew now that she was nothing more than James' sister to him. James' foolish, naive sister.

Sirius' reunion with the Marauders also meant that Marlene had similarly been reunited with Clara. And much like with Sirius and his friends, there was still some lingering tension between the girls. Tension that the two of them had been avoiding any discussion over.

It was the elephant in the room. The choice that Marlene had made to side with Sirius over her when it came down to it.

Realistically she knew she had no real part in the matter. What happened was between Sirius and Remus – and less directly Peter and James. But when her sisterly bond with Marlene started all those years ago, she assumed that any matter that involved choosing side, Marlene would always support her and her family.

It was a no-brainer that Clara was going to stand by James. But Marlene chose Sirius and that was the beginning of her realizing that perhaps she had assumed too much of her friend. Maybe they had outgrown each other in some ways. Still, they found themselves spending more time together, just like the old days. Perhaps it was to simply ignore a truth that both were much too afraid to confront.

It was in the library on that afternoon in early May that Marlene finally decided to broach the subject as the girls had been studying for their upcoming N.E.W.T. Exams.

"You've been acting weird." the blonde said bluntly to her friend whose nose was buried in her Herbology textbook.

"Have I?" Clara asked plainly, not even bothering to glance up from the page.

Marlene's jaw clenched as she reached across the table to pull the book away from Clara, swiftly closing it and placing it in the chair beside her.

"Oi!"

As the librarian shot them a warning glare from her desk nearby, though both girls remained ignorant to the elderly witch as they stared intensely at each other.

"Can we talk, please?" Marlene asked, softening her demeanor slightly.

"What's there to talk about?"

The blonde rolled her golden eyes, "You know what, Clara. The situation with Sirius."

Clara visibly tensed up at the mention of him, "There's no need, it's all sorted out. I just saw him and James in the courtyard this morning."

"Not them," Marlene sighed, "I mean why haven't you forgiven him if James has? And why are you holding it against me?"

Clara winced slightly, as if she'd been accused of something. In actuality, she didn't know how to confide in Marlene her own sense of betrayal without confronting why she felt that way at all.

If she admitted that the boy who had broken her trust and kicked her while she was down by admitting that he only ever saw her as James' sister, that meant she'd had to admit she had grown fond of him. And that wasn't something she was willing to say out loud.

But perhaps as a blessing in disguise, their discussion would have to wait. A familiar Scottish accent had conveniently broken the awkward tension that had been growing between the girls.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your studying, ladies, but the Headmaster wishes to see you both." Professor McGonagall informed them from the end of the aisle of books nearest them.

It seemed that the girls had been much too consumed with their discussion to hear the Deputy Headmistress approach them. But once her words sank in, Marlene and Clara looked at one another with worry. Being called to the Headmaster's office was never a good thing and not because it meant you had gotten in trouble. It was almost always to receive bad news. Either some sort of attack at home or an injury of a loved one, or worst of all, death.

Within the walls of the castle, it was easy to avoid thinking about the war raging on outside. So long as there were no copies of The Daily Prophet laying around. Clara's horrible habit of reading the news every morning had long since been broken by Fabian who had resorted to hiding them all from her until she had given up on reading it all together.

"Come along." Professor McGonagall beckoned them to follow her, ignoring the worried expressions on each girl's face.

The walk to the Headmaster's office was torturous and slow. To Clara it felt like the corridors has somehow become ten times longer as her thoughts ran wild, wondering why not only she but Marlene as well had been called to see Professor Dumbledore.

Only the sound of Professor McGonagall's heels against the stone floor was there to break the silence. Finally, as they came to a stop in front of a large statue of a gargoyle, the Professor cleared her throat, "Fizzing Whizzbees"

The girls shared a curious look with one another but soon, the statue moved aside to reveal a secret spiral staircase that had been concealed to anyone who didn't know the Headmaster's preferred sweet that month.

"In you go, ladies." Professor McGonagall gestured with her hand.

"You aren't coming?" Marlene asked.

"No Miss McKinnon, I'm not. Simply knock on the door when you reach the top, he is expecting you."

Wordlessly, the girls obeyed and entered the staircase climbing it all the way to the top. It was Marlene who reached forward to knock on the door, but before her knuckles could even meet the wood, they heard a voice coming from inside.

"Come in."

Marlene glanced over at Clara who simply nodded. Whatever horrible news their Headmaster had for them, she didn't want to prolong any further. So, the blonde reached for the handle and the two of them entered his office.

The expansive circular room was like a museum of relics and knick-knacks. Portraits adorned the walls and where there were no paintings, instead stood tall cabinets filled with ancient artifacts and vials of potions that even Clara couldn't identify from passing a glance. A large window framed with thick velvet drapes sat behind his desk.

It was a view that Clara knew some students would envy as it not only looked over the Scottish mountains surrounding the castle but also had a clear view of the Quidditch pitch. There was a large fireplace on the opposite wall, even bigger than the one back home in Potter Manor which had been curiously lit despite the warm spring weather outside.

But Clara couldn't appreciate her surroundings for long as the Professor, who stood with his back to them behind his large mahogany desk, finally spoke in his soft voice, "Come and have a seat, ladies. There is something I wish to discuss with you."

Near where the Professor was, stood a gold basin filled with smoldering ash. It seemed that most of the Headmaster's attention was on that, as he hadn't even bothered greet them with a smile or any eye-contact at all, for that matter. The fact that he had yet to even look at them filled Clara with a sense of dread despite the calm tone in his voice. Still, they couldn't disobey their headmaster, so both girls quickly approached his desk and took a seat in the nearby leather armchairs.

Finally, once they were seated, he turned to them with a smile. Silently, he peered over his half-moon spectacles at each of them, taking in their presence for what felt like an eternity and Clara began to wonder if Dumbledore had the ability to read minds. Just as the thought ran through her head, he chuckled briefly and finally took a seat behind his desk.

As he glanced once more towards the pile of ash in the basin that was still faintly glowing with orange and red embers, he spoke up once more, "Miss McKinnon, I've been made aware that you have recently applied to work for The Daily Prophet as a writer, is that correct?"

After a brief pause, she replied, "Yes, sir."

He nodded thoughtfully, still keeping a careful eye on the ashes.

"And Miss Potter, you have been accepted for a position at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries pending your N.E.W.T. results, yes?"

As if she was Marlene's echo, Clara also replied, "Yes, sir."

It seemed odd that the two of them were being asked about their ambitions by Professor Dumbledore of all people. Those discussions were usually reserved for students and their Head of House.

"Very good." he said thoughtfully.

Then silence fell, just when Clara thought surely he'd ask them more questions. Or else why even bother asking them to pay him a visit at all? But he said nothing. As she glanced at Marlene, the look on her face let her know that she was just as confused, if not more.

"Sir," Clara started as she turned back towards him and finally, he met her eyes. For some reason his gaze made her slightly nervous and she struggled to maintain eye-contact with him as she cleared her throat, "I– um, I was just curious why you asked to see Marlene and I."

"I'm sure you were," he chuckled lightly, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening as he smiled, "I am very glad you asked."

It was then that their Headmaster rose from his desk once more, taking another careful peek into the ashes as if he were expecting something to happen with it. As he tore his eyes away from the basin and rounded his desk, he stopped for a moment, eyeing a tall black cabinet in the corner of the room before turning to the girls with that same friendly smile.

"There is something I wish to ask of you two," he said softly, his usual sweet tone becoming more serious, "It is not a simple favor, I'm afraid. But I do believe that you two are up to the task."

Marlene and Clara sat silently as he eyed them for a moment, as if to study their reactions. Dumbledore didn't seem to mind their lack of inquiry, though. Instead, he used it as a sign to continue on.

"As I'm sure you are both well aware, the war raging on outside of these castle walls is showing no signs of letting up." he peered over his glasses at them and all Clara could think to do was nod at him.

Why was he bringing up the war? What did it have to do with them? Unless something had in fact happened to their families. It was that fear that caused Clara to finally part her lips with the intention of asking if something had gone horribly wrong, but to her surprise, Marlene beat her to the punch.

"I'm sorry if this comes across as rude, Professor. But what does that have to do with us?" The blonde asked impatiently.

Clara flicked her head from Marlene to the Headmaster, almost anticipating him to be upset with the tone she had used with him. But he simply smiled at her.

"I understand your confusion, Miss McKinnon, and I will happily answer all of your questions once I have made my proposal to you both. Now," he said as he looked between the two of them, "Nearly two years ago, I formed an organization known as The Order of the Phoenix with the sole purpose to put an end to this war. In that time, I have been recruiting members that I believe can play a vital role in doing just that."

His explanation hadn't cleared up anything for Clara as she sat there thinking she had absolutely nothing to offer to such a cause, but before she could bring this to the Headmaster's attention, he said something she hadn't yet realized she truly feared.

"I would like you two to join."

Clara's mouth reacted before her mind did as she frowned deeply, "You want us to fight?"

Dumbledore nodded, as if it was a simple favor he was asking of them, "I do."

Clara shook her head, as if trying to rattle her scattered thoughts back in to place, "Why us? We're... we're kids."

Normally Clara was never this combative, certainly not with an authority figure. But she was in such deep shock that her conscience truly had no hope of preventing her from objecting to an idea so absurd, no matter who it was suggesting it. Still, that all knowing smile never left Dumbledore's lips as he shook his head.

"You are both of age, Miss Potter. You're not children anymore."

Marlene truly seemed to be stunned into silence as the usually fiery blonde kept her eyes locked to the floor with a deep crease between her brows. As Clara glanced over to her, her heart plummeted and then anger grew within her because it really seemed like Dumbledore didn't notice how much he was truly asking of them.

Or perhaps he simply didn't care.

When Clara turned back to him, he looked at her with raised brows, as if expecting more of an objection from her and she was happy to oblige.

"Sir, what could Marlene and I possibly have to offer you? We'll be fresh out of school with no real world experience. Studying defensive spells and using them in a real situation are vastly different scenarios."

To her shock, he seemed to agree as he nodded his head, "You are correct, Miss Potter. But what I believe you and Miss McKinnon can offer The Order isn't to do with combat. It's to do with the fight behind the scenes – perhaps the most important battle in this war."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not quite sure I follow."

"You are at the top of your class in Potions, aren't you Miss Potter?"

She nodded, "Well, yes but–"

"And you will be training at St. Mungo's starting at the end of June." he stated matter-of-factly.

"Yes, sir but–"

"Surely you see the need for The Order to have a designated Healer among their ranks."

Clara was growing quite impatient with the way that he continued to cut her off, "Yes, Professor, I do but–"

"Then there is no need for confusion," he said with a smile, "A dear friend of mine, Edgar Bones, is Healer-in-Charge of the Lastwicke Whitmore Ward for Spell Damages at St. Mungo's. I do believe that is the unit you will be working in come June, is it not?"

It shouldn't have come as such a surprise that Dumbledore knew so much, almost as if he had played a direct hand in which ward she would be working in and under whose direction. At the thought, Clara had finally been stunned into silence as she simply nodded.

"You and Edgar will work together for The Order as our team of Healers for those who are sent out on missions." he stated plainly, as if Clara didn't have a choice in the matter.

Then, his attention returned to Marlene who still looked deeply troubled.

"As for you, Miss McKinnon," he said brightly as her eyes reluctantly met his, "I suspect you will be sent out to cover rather interesting stories as a journalist. Interesting stories that could prove quite useful to The Order, even before they are written – perhaps even more so if they are never published. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I-I don't know, sir." the blonde stammered.

Clara had never heard Marlene sound so small. The sound of her friend'e voice, so unsure, made Clara's heart drop and all she wanted to do was pull her out of this room and pretend that this discussion never took place. Maybe if they stormed out now, she would hopefully wake up from this nightmare to find it had truly never happened.

"You will be working in the Ministry everyday, Miss McKinnon." he stated plainly, in that same all knowing way he had with Clara, "There are people who work there that do not align with our cause. Your task will be that of reconnaissance – gathering information. No matter how big or small, if you think something is worth telling The Order, I am trusting you to share it."

"Sir, I–"

And just as he did with Clara, he prevented Marlene from making any objections, "There is no need to worry. We have Aurors among our ranks, their presence in the Ministry will assure your safety at all times."

Marlene sat there with her lips pressed together tightly, gazing not at Dumbledore but through him. Clara knew that when Marlene had applied to work at the paper, it was just to make ends meet while she worked on her novels. That was her true dream, to be a fiction writer, not a journalist.

The way Marlene saw it, her choices were either to work at Flourish & Blotts or at The Daily Prophet after finishing school. The last thing she expected from a job she barely wanted was for it to be used as a reason to fight in the war.

The silence in the room was thick with tension. That is, until Dumbledore spoke up once more, "I believe I've kept you ladies long enough. You may leave and enjoy the rest of your afternoon."

He dismissed them without the opportunity to ask all the questions he said he would happily answer, casting them away before they could attempt to turn down his proposal. Subconsciously, it seemed that both girls knew that was the case. As they stood, their departure felt almost out of body – as if their feet were moving on autopilot back towards the heavy oak door that separated them from the spiral staircase.

As the girls left the Headmaster's office, Clara had never been filled with such dread. Everything that had occurred between Sirius and the Maurader's felt like a distant memory – a petty squabble between friends.

Joining such an organization felt like a guaranteed death sentence. But there was a level of guilt in turning their Headmaster down that she wasn't sure whether or not she could bear. Saying yes was the right thing to do, that much was obvious. Choosing to be a hero and fighting for good to triumph over evil would put her on the right side of history.

But Clara didn't want to be a hero, she didn't want to be a soldier. Eighteen year olds shouldn't have to be forced into a war. War itself shouldn't happen at all.

All of her worries were consuming her to the point of panic. It seemed that her shock was finally subsiding enough to allow all of her fear to bubble to the surface.

It all happened so quickly as Marlene pulled her into a nearby corridor to sit down and breathe. They sat there silently in that secluded hallway for a while as Clara tried to calm her breathing. Marlene knew her best friend better than to try to coach her through this, so she sat without a word with her hand placed over Clara's knee, just to let her know that she wasn't alone.

After a while, it seemed that the brunette had been able to get her racing thoughts in order enough to discuss what in Merlin's name had just happened. Clara looked into the comforting brown eyes of her friend that had been watching her. A slight smile crept to the blonde's lips – a silent reassurance that she was there and always would be.

Still, Clara was feeling quiet hopeless as her frown deepened, "Aren't you scared?"

The question came out as barely a whisper as the Ravenclaw girl chuckled weakly before nodding, "Shitless."

"What do we do?"

"I mean," Marlene started, but her face fell when she realized she didn't have an answer, "I suppose we could say that we don't want to join."

Clara shook her head as dread filled her entire body once more, "I don't think we can."

Marlene's brows furrowed as she gazed at the side of her friend's face whose eyes were now locked on the stone floor beneath them, "Why not?"

"Because if we say no, what does that make us? We've been given an opportunity to fight and we want to say no because we're scared. Besides, I don't think we can say no," she paused for a moment as her jaw clenched, "and I think Professor Dumbledore knows that."

Marlene let out a sigh and nodded as her eyes dropped to her lap where her hands had been fiddling with the hem of her skirt. Silence fell between them again as they sat in their misery, realizing they weren't just being recruited. They were being forced into the war under the guise of being willing volunteers.

"Mar?" Clara spoke up after a few minutes, finally returning her gaze to her friend.

"Yes?"

Their eyes met and Clara bit down on her bottom lip for a moment before she took in a deep breath, "Please don't tell Sirius about this."

Marlene's brows furrowed and she parted her lips to say something, but whatever it was, Clara would never know as she cut her off.

"I know you two are close," a strange pang of pain, or it was perhaps jealousy, washed over Clara, which she quickly shook off as she continued, "and you likely tell him everything – probably even more than you tell me these days."

The look on Marlene's face at these words let Clara know that perhaps that may indeed be true, especially after their discussion in the library. But that didn't matter to her right now. All that really mattered was the favor she was going to ask of her closest friend. Perhaps the most important favor she'd likely ask anyone.

"I-I just," Clara stuttered for a moment as she did her best to not let her anxiety take control once more, "I don't want James to find out about this. I don't want him to get involved. So please, Mar. Don't tell Sirius."

Marlene didn't object, she simply nodded, "Okay, I won't. I swear."

"Thank you." Clara sighed.

It seemed the two of them were in this together, trapped in a situation neither could confide in anyone else. In some odd way, it felt comforting. Because even if they couldn't escape the war, at least they didn't have to worry about anyone else they loved being roped into it like they had. That is, until they heard the familiar clicking of the Deputy Headmistress' shoes along with a pair of voices that Clara would recognize anywhere.

"I swear we didn't Charm Flitwick's toupee to fly off his head!" one twin defended themselves with a laugh.

"Yeah, we didn't even know he wore one of them things!" the other snickered.

"While I am ever so curious to know all about this situation, that is not what the Headmaster has asked to see you about."

The sound of their laughter hurt the most because she knew exactly why the Prewett twins were being escorted up to Professor Dumbledore's office. Clara's mouth had gone dry, her heart rattled against her chest wildly as the realization sank in.

She and Marlene weren't the only students of age who were being recruited for this so-called Order – far from it.

Part of her wanted to run into the adjoining corridor to stop them, to tell Professor McGonagall that this was all mad, that they were still children despite being of age. But her body remained stoic.

Marlene was attempting to say something to her, probably some sort of attempt to reassure her, but her friend's voice had been muffled by the racing thoughts inside her mind.

It was endless, as if she believed that her silent pleading would become some sort of wandless spell that could put an end to all of this madness.

Not them too. Not them, please. Not them. Not them.

But it was no use.