Wood Stakes

After the feast, Harry and his friends troop up to their common room, Ron and Hermione herding the new first-years.

They’re talking quietly about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who had come in late last second. The second Harry had seen her he had known who she was, her bright pink clothing and distinctively toad-like face blatant clues. She had insisted on giving a speech even though the Feast was more or less over with, and concentration was difficult when everybody was full from so much food. Nevertheless, Harry was at least able to put together the fact that he knew her from his trial, and he’d helpfully filled Ron and Hermione in on this as they’d listened(or in Ron’s case, more dozed off) to her speech.

The first years troop excitedly from behind them, interrupting their conversation, yet expelling a sort of nervous energy that’s infectious.

Regardless of the suspicious transfer students, or the even more suspicious Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Harry feels pretty good. He’s full after eating a delicious meal, and walking besides his two very best friends in the whole world at Hogwarts.

He smiles kindly as one of the first-years bump into him accidentally, but to his surprise the first-year looks back at him in a sort of fearful horror. For a moment, Harry wonders if perhaps there’s something behind him, but then he remembers the current news circulating about him and his mood sours.

He scowls at the wall, hard, but before he can do anything rash like storm off he’s approached by Professor McGonagall, who wordlessly hands him a slip of paper before vanishing.

They’ve already arrived at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, and the first-years stream in excitedly, leaving Harry alone standing outside with the paper.

After a moment, having shown the first-years to their new dormitories, Ron and Hermione join him, clearly having noticed what Professor McGonagall had given him.

“What d’you think it is?” Ron asks curiously, eyeing the slip of paper like it’s about to explode.

Instead of responding, Harry unfolds the note and reads it.

“Well,” Hermione says, a touch impatient, as he reads it over for a second time. “What’s it say?”

“It says to come up to Dumbledore’s office.” Harry says slowly, frowning slightly as he wonders what could have happened. Dumbledore had hardly glanced in his direction all summer, and now he was inviting him up to talk to him?

Harry glances at Hermione and Ron. “It says you two can come as well. And…” he trails off, now quoting the paper verbatim, “P.S. I like sugar quills.”

Ron’s eyebrows shoot up at the last part, but eventually he nods and they set off together.

“Sugar Quills?” Ron asks, more to himself. “That man is barmy.”

They head out to Dumbledore’s office silently, Ron and Hermione apparently having picked up on Harry’s mood and deciding upon tentatively staying quiet. 

Eventually, they arrive, only to find quite a few members of the order already there: Dumbledore, Kingsley Shackleton, Remus Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody.

They’re all standing in a circle, clearly having been discussing something that was interrupted by Harry and his friend’s entrance.

“Harry, Ron, Hermione. Please, come in.” Dumbledore finally says.

This was the first time in a while that Dumbledore had even looked at him, and Harry bites back the rising anger bubbling up in his chest familiarly. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks. “Why is a lot of the Order here? Isn’t it dangerous to meet up like this?”

If anyone is surprised by Harry’s sudden barrage of questions(or his rather harsh tone), they don’t show it.

Mad-Eye nods gruffly. “Right you are, Potter, but we decided it was worth it.”

“Why?” Hermione asks curiously.

“Dumbledore, you want to explain?” Mad-Eye asks, and Dumbledore nods serenely.

“How much do you three know about the transfer students?”

Harry can hear Hermione shift uncomfortably behind him, an easy giveaway of when she doesn’t know the answer to something.

“Not much,” Harry grudgingly admits. “Why? I thought you invited them here?”

Dumbledore sighs, and for a moment he seems very, very old.

“We discovered this… school in America not long ago. But we know very little about them. Frankly, their entire story is shrouded in mystery.”

Lupin continues. “We don’t know how their students weren’t noticed by Ilvermorny, how they’d been able to remain hidden for so long… none of it makes sense. And, to be honest, we’re not at all sure about what their students can do.”

Ron looks confused for a moment. “Percy said he hadn’t had a wand before this. So their magical skills must have been pretty limited, right?”

A few members of the Order shift and give each other dark looks.

“We don’t really know. All they told us was that they do “ancient magic”. But they haven’t exactly explained how that works.” Mad-Eye says.

Hermione gives a sharp intake of breath, an easy reminder that she’s figured something out. “That’s why you invited them here? To figure out what they can do?” She asks.

Kingsley nods. “That’s one reason. But they’re also potential threats if they work for You-Know-Who. We’ve invited a small number of students into one of the most secure places in the world. If they are taking You-Know-Who’s side, while they’re here, the rest of their school is less likely to attack us when we essentially have captives.”

“But why would they agree to that?” Hermione asks, confused.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkle for a moment. “Your guess is as good as mine, Ms. Granger.” 

Hermione blushes and looks down for a moment.

“So why are you telling us this? And why are you here?” Harry asks, interrupting.

Remus and Dumbledore share a look.

“We agreed that you should be informed on some things in the Order.” Lupin says carefully. “This is something big that could potentially affect you, so we’ve decided to inform you.”

“Make sure you’re aware.” Mad-Eye says gruffly. “And, to answer your second question, Potter, we’re here to meet one of em’.”

Harry and his friends share a look.

“What do you mean, meet with them?” Harry asks.

“Quite a few members of the Order wanted to meet them.” Shacklebolt said, side-eyeing Moody. 

Mad-Eye smiles grimly.

“I just want to get a read on em’.” He says, his electric-blue eye whizzing around.

“We’ve invited one of them up right now.” Dumbledore said calmly. “I believe you sat with him on the train. Perseus, or Percy, right?”

At that moment, with perfect timing, the gargoyle elevator springs open, and Percy casually walks in. He’d clearly taken the opportunity to get out of his cloak, because he’s back to wearing Muggle clothes, a dark blue hoodie and jeans. 

His usual troublemaker smirk is gone, replaced with a serious face and sharp eyes that seem to focus on Dumbledore.

“Dumbledore.” He says, and his voice has a strange edge to it.

Dumbledore nods at him respectfully. “Percy, I was hoping I could introduce you to a few of my associates.” He says.

If Percy is surprised by this development, he doesn’t show it. His eyes rake over Harry and his friends, and some sort of understanding flickers in his eyes. 

“Okay.” He finally says, meeting Dumbledore’s eyes. 

Mad-Eye, unsurprisingly, steps forward first.

“Good to meet you, Jackson.” He says, sounding very much like he doesn’t mean it. “I’m Alastor Moody, but everyone just calls me Mad-Eye.” His blue eye whizzes around crazily, and Harry suspects that he’s doing it on purpose.

Sure enough, Percy eyes his eye with a strange sort of disgust not unmixed with fascination.

“I can see why.” He says dryly. “I’m assuming that’s not your normal eye?”

Mad-Eye’s scarred face twists slightly into a smile. “No it’s not.”

Percy nods, scrutinizing the scar on Mad-Eye’s face as though he recognizes it. “I have a crazy scar too.” He says, holding up his hand so that his palm faces the group. In the center lies a strange, asterisk shaped scar, pale-white and raised on his skin. 

Mad-Eye touches the scar that crosses his blue eye grimly. 

“Did you also get yours from a half mad lunatic who shoved his broken wand into your face?” Moody asks, and Harry can’t help but swallow hard at the vivid description.

Percy, on the other hand, seems unperturbed. “No, I got mine when a friend tried to kill me by setting a pit scorpion on me.” He says coolly. “But your story’s cool too.”

There’s a moment of silence as everyone digests this. Mad Eye stares at Percy, a strange expression on his face, before stepping back. 

The rest of the Order introduces themselves, ending with Harry and his friends.

“And this is Harry, Hermione and Ron. I believe you’ve met them already?” Dumbledore asks.

Harry stiffens, expecting a barrage of questions about why he is here, but to his surprise it seems that Percy isn’t even paying attention. Actually, now that he thinks about it, he hadn’t really been paying attention for a while, choosing instead to stare curiously at Lupin.

After a beat, Dumbledore asks, “Is something wrong, Percy?”

Percy glances distractedly at him. “No, of course not.” He pauses for a moment, and it seems that he’s made a decision because he glances back at Lupin. “Actually, yes, yes there is.” 

Percy meets Lupin’s eyes, focusing on them with a surprising intensity. “What are you?” He asks.

It seems like everyone is collectively holding their breath as Lupin stares back, clearly deciding how to answer that question.

“What do you mean?” He finally asks, carefully.

Percy cocks his head to the side, a small smile upturning his lips. “I mean, what are you? You’re not human.”

Lupin glances at Dumbledore, searching for a hint about what to do, but for the first time Dumbledore looks at a loss for words.

“Lykaon?” Percy asks, and something flickers in Lupin’s eyes.

Harry instinctively glances at Hermione, and her mouth is moving silently as she thinks.

Harry had never heard of Lykaon’s before, and a quick glance around the room tells him that he is not the only one.

Percy seems to be deep in thought, but he seems to get another idea because he takes another step forward.

“Werewolf?” He asks, and whatever reaction Lupin gives must be enough because he nods, satisfied.

“How did you know that?” Lupin asks hoarsely.

Percy waves him off, unworried. “So you are a werewolf?” Percy asks for confirmation.

Lupin nods, clearly expecting some sort of outburst. But to his(and everyone else’s) surprise, Percy just looks vaguely interested.

“Really? That’s so interesting. Is it true you only turn on full moons?” Percy asks curiously.

Once again, Lupin just nods.

“Huh.” Percy says, thoughtfully. “Must be a bitch to schedule around that, though.” He says.

Nobody responds.

Percy stares at Lupin for another couple of seconds, and then glances around the room again.

It seems he’s completely over Lupin’s werewolf-ness because he starts exploring the room in lieu of conversation, eyeing Dumbeldore’s phoenix with fascination.

“Whoa, cool bird.” He says.

Dumbledore seems to have made a decision about something, because he steps forward, getting Percy’s attention.

“Did you know, Percy, that there are centaurs in our forest?” He asks.

Percy looks mildly surprised by the sudden change in conversation, but he doesn’t question it.

“Really?” He asks, an interesting look on his face.

Mad Eye catches it with ease, and steps forward as well. “That mean something to you, Jackson?” He asks.

Percy gives him an irritated look before responding. “Yes, but Dumbledore already knows that. Our… headmaster, for lack of a better word, is a centaur.”

“Your headmaster is a half-breed?” Mad Eye asks, surprised.

Percy looks offended at the name, and scowls at him. “He’s a centaur.” He corrects stiffly.

“Don’t centaurs live in herds?” Hermione asks.

Percy nods. “Yeah, our… headmaster is kind of a special case. But his family lives in a herd, so to speak.” He grins after a moment, clearly reminded of something. “They call themselves the Party Ponies.”

There’s a sort of long silence as everyone digests this. Everyone who’d heard of the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest knew that they were a very… proud group, and the idea that centaurs would call themselves “the Party Ponies” sounded ridiculous.

“Our centaurs are a bit… different.” Dumbledore says. “And unlike the ones you have met, they are gifted in Divination.”

At the strange look Percy gives him, he adds, “telling the future.”

Percy looks surprised, and he nods interestedly. “Really? Have they made any predictions about the future?” He asks.

Dumbledore glances at Harry. “Harry here has met the centaurs quite a few times over the years. Did any of the centaurs give you any predictions about the future, Harry?” Dumbledore asks, and Harry feels a spike of anxiety at the sudden attention.

“Nothing that makes sense.” Harry says, frowning slightly. “Just that ‘Mars is bright tonight.’” He can’t help the slight sarcastic tone that slips into his words, but in his defense, nobody could really call those predictions of the future.

Something unidentified flickers in Percy’s eyes, and he stares at Harry urgently. “Mars?” He asks. “Are you sure?”

Harry steps back, surprised at the sudden interest in his words, and nods.

For a moment, Percy looks deep in thought, and he mutters something in a different language.

“Does that mean something to you?” Mad Eye asks.

Percy looks up surprisedly, as though he’d forgotten that they were there. “It depends.” He says carefully.

Dumbledore holds out a finger, silencing Mad Eye’s next question, and regards Percy thoughtfully. He seems to have come to a conclusion, because he speaks.

“I think that’s enough, Alastor. We have several students here who should really get to bed.”

Percy stares at him, and they seem to have a silent conversation, but then Percy steps back.

“Right you are. It’s nice to meet all of you.” Percy says. 

The entire group gives respectful goodbye’s, and practically pushes the four of them out of the office.

Dumbledore doesn’t meet Harry’s eyes again.