AN: Hello everyone! This is my second fanfic that I have currently been stuck on which is why I haven't updated my other one recently (sorry). But anyways, I have the first three chapters done and I hope you enjoy them!

This story was inspired by Princess Marauders' The Underground however, the plot is completely my own and so are all of the OC's.

Here's some background information for you: This story is completely Au and takes place during the Marauders' Era, the summer after their graduation. Sirius, James, and Peter never met Remus Lupin and the Marauders never became animagi, though they do still come up with nicknames for eachother. I know Moody didn't have his magic eye yet, but I really wanted to put that in anyway, cause it's Moody's defining feature, so I took some artistic liscence. :)

Anyway, enough rambling and on to the story! Please tell me what you think. Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: Last I checked I had brown hair, no money, and am American. Last I checked J K Rowling was blonde, rich with a capital R, and British. Needless to say I am not J K Rowling and do not own Harry Potter (sadly)

Chapter 1

~*Dark Moon and a Firecracker*~

The night was still young and the crescent moon still high in the sky as a teenage boy walked quickly and quietly through the forest. Silvery moonlight splashed across the forest floor illuminating the leaf mould in different sized patches. The boy wove in and out of the moonlight as silently as the breeze. He seemed to be in a hurry. The boy leapt across a small, gurgling stream, and dodged a bramble bush. Leaping over a fallen log, he scrambled gracefully up a steep incline. In seconds, he reached the crest of the cliff which dropped down a mere eight feet into a brightly-lit clearing. A fast-flowing river sliced through the clearing. On the other side was a higher cliff-face that looked to the average passerby to be large, dark, and imposing. It held an ominous aura about it that drove travellers away from the otherwise beautiful clearing.

The teenager halted at the crest of the cliff and stared at the imposing cliff-face with shining gold eyes that had seen far too much in their short life. He surreptitiously fingered the long silver-bladed knife that hung at his waist. He felt the familiar knot form in the pit of his stomach. He hated this clearing, he hated his life, but most of all, he hated that cliff like he hated Hell.

From all outward appearances, the boy seemed rather normal, if not a bit mysterious and secretive. He wore tattered brown pants and a black t-shirt. Under the t-shirt, he sported a long-sleeved gray shirt that covered his arms right down to his black gloves which had their finger-tips cut off. His hair was a sandy-brown and contained a few strands of prematurely gray hairs. In certain light, the three pale, silvery scars that ran across his face could be seen. He wore shabby, brown boots, and his pants were held up by a worn, leather belt. The knife he carried could not be seen except by those who knew he carried it.

He was the sort of boy that would gain an odd look or two on the street but never a second glance. Most people passed him by without ever paying much mind. And even stranger was the fact that this pleased the boy. He hated gaining any unwanted attention and preferred to remain as inconspicuous as possible. However, this was not the only thing that made the teenager strange. He was probably the farthest thing from normal. Why?

First of all, he had no real home. His parents had been murdered but three years prior and his house burned to the ground. Secondly, the boy had no real friends. The people, if people you could call them, that he lived with, he could hardly consider friends. He ignored most of them and wanted nothing to do with them, except when he gave orders, and they ignored him. It was a rather effective process. Not to mention the fact that most all he lived with feared him. That was another thing that set him apart. He was feared by many, even those of his own kind.

He was also a wizard. Ever since he was small, his parents had taught him about magic. He had learned seven years of magic in four years and had gone on to learn things far beyond the ordinary witch or wizard. He had shown himself to be both powerful and talented and a great force to be reckoned with. It was no wonder he was so feared among his people. However, this was not the thing that set him apart the most.

He was not even normal by wizard standards. In fact, fear and prejudice had driven him to be shunned by the wizarding world. Though he was far more talented and skilled than most wizards and witches, he could never hold a job. No one would ever want to associate with him let alone offer him paid work. The reason for this was simple.

He was a werewolf.

The boy watched the moon climb higher with narrowing eyes. As much as he knew he must, he did not want to approach the cliff face. It was not that he feared the cliff itself. No, the young werewolf feared very little. It was what was behind the cliff, the secret it held, that he feared. For the cliff was one of the many hidden entrances to the labyrinth of tunnels and caves that snaked throughout Great Britain and housed those werewolves who chose to live away from normal wizards and witches. These tunnels were swarmed with packs and loners from all parts of England, Ireland, and Scotland. This place, this safe haven, was hidden from normal wizards. Only those who were cursed to live the half-life of a werewolf could enter its depths. This was where the teenager had spent the last three years of his life. This was the Underground.

The boy shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot. He didn't stay in the Underground out of choice. He hated that place like he hated Hell. It had not been his choice to come to the Underground in the first place. No. It had been Greyback, Fenrir Greyback, the most terrible, bloodthirsty, savage, ruthless, cunning, contentious werewolf of the 20th century. It was Greyback who had bitten the boy when he had been a mere four years old, Greyback who returned eleven years later, savage and hungry, and had murdered both the teenager's parents and burnt his house to the ground. It was Greyback who had dragged the boy away to the Underground where he would spend the next three years of his tortured existence. It was Greyback who had ruined his life, taken away not only his family, home, friends, and freedom, but also his childhood and any chance for a future.

He hated Greyback. He hated him so much. Yet the boy was cursed to be a member of the monster's pack, cursed to live with those ferocious beings, cursed to live in the Underground, a place of nightmares. But he couldn't leave. If he did, Greyback would know. He would come after him, and no matter what, the teenager knew the older werewolf would find him…and he would not be merciful.

Ever since he had been forcefully admitted into Greyback's pack, he had been forced to discard his old identity. No one in the pack but Greyback and the boy knew his birth name. To all others he was known by his pack name, Dark Moon.

Through the years, Dark Moon had shown himself to be powerful, cunning, and an invaluable part of the pack. Not only this, but Greyback noticed that the others had come to fear the young werewolf and would do almost whatever he said. Greyback appointed the boy his second in command only a year after his admittance, and he had proven to be a priceless leader.

However, many questioned Greyback's appointment of his second-in-command. Dark Moon was powerful, yes, strong, cunning, and clever, but he was unlike most of the werewolves in Greyback's pack, the complete polar opposite of Greyback himself…he valued human life. Greyback was ruthless and bloodthirsty, a monster to behold, even in his human form. However, Dark Moon was different. Unlike Greyback, he did not give the wolf inside him free reign of his body between the full moons. He kept his personality, his morals, his love of human life. He did not want to be a monster; he did not want to be like Greyback. This set him apart from his fellows in the pack. It's what made him…human.

However, though Greyback knew of his second-in-command's love of human life and his controlled personality, the Alpha knew he could find no one better to fill this position. Greyback believed it was best to rule through fear. The pack certainly feared Dark Moon, almost as much as they feared Greyback himself, and he knew this was invaluable. The pack was growing. They were gaining more werewolves in numbers greater than ever before. The Alpha could not be everywhere at once. He needed a strong, powerful, and feared leader to help him keep the pack in check. For these reasons, he kept Dark Moon in such a position of power.

Greyback had no idea, however, that his second in command had been using this blind faith and power in order to spirit newly turned and captured children or desperate-to-flee werewolves away to another pack, a pack whose Alpha stood for everything Greyback hated. The Alpha's name was Almach. And in his pack flowed the one thing vital to the strongest pack, the one thing Greback was missing…love. Love, trust, camaraderie…these were all traits that were lacking in Greyback's pack that made Almach and his pack, though smaller, a true force to be reckoned with, an almost unbreakable power in the Underground. Almach was said to be the only werewolf Greyback had ever feared.

Dark Moon knew that if word of what he was doing slipped to Greyback's ears, he would not be the only one to pay. He could not let this happen. This was why his secret operations were carried out with the most meticulous planning. If even the smallest thing were to go not as planned, the entire operation could be revealed. Dark Moon was eternally thankful that he was such a good wizard, for he knew he would not have been able to carry out his mission otherwise.

Dark Moon sighed heavily. He didn't want to return to the Underground…to the pack…to Greyback. But he had to. If he didn't, Greyback would grow suspicious and he would be hunted. A hunted werewolf under Greyback's command usually didn't make it out on the other end. Though, as second-in-command, Dark Moon was not subjected to the same strict curfews set down for the other pack members, he could not completely come and go as he pleased. He had to return every night at at least a decent hour, or Greyback would become suspicious. And the last thing Dark Moon, Almach, and their operation needed was a suspicious Greyback dogging the key executioner's every step. Their mission could be exposed, and he knew he couldn't risk that, ever. Dark Moon knew the fire with which he was playing. He was acting the part of a spy and a traitor. If he was caught, he would be dealt with as such. However, the teenager was willing to take the risks, anything to help others escape the same terrible fate into which he had been so unmercifully plunged. He had made this his life's mission. And he would not let his mission be uncovered.

With a heavy heart and a weary mind, the teenage boy dropped down from the small cliff landing gracefully on all fours. Crossing the river, he approached the high, jagged cliff face. Here we go again, he thought, taking a deep breath. He walked confidently towards the seemingly solid cliff face. He had the strange sensation of being plunged into a lake of freezing cold water as he passed through the rock. When the sensation disappeared, he was in a dark, narrow passage with jagged earthen walls that snaked off into the distance. The Underground.

James Potter sat in the sitting room of Number 26 Cobblestone Lane, rifling through the sheaf of papers in his hands. He ran a hand through his already messy, black hair and pushed his round glasses up further on his nose. He quickly scanned each page trying to remember a time in which he had been more bored. It's not that James didn't like his work, but countless hours of reading through plans and maps and rolls of parchment filled completely with useless information was really getting to him. He was never one to be seen in the library of Hogwarts researching and studying for tests, and now was no different.

James closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. This was definitely not how he had been planning to spend the first few months of school-free summer. He and his best friend Sirius Black had resolved years ago that after they graduated, they'd spend their first summer away going on adventures and wreaking havoc in the world. James let out a dry laugh. The last thing he had been expecting was to be stuck in the sitting room of a house that wasn't his doing research for an organization created by the Hogwarts headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Sirius's suggestion couldn't have been further from the sad truth.

James, deciding it was time to take a short break and stretch his legs, set down the papers he had been reading on the couch and rose to his feet, stretching his arms and legs, joints popping loudly. The sitting room that had once been warm and welcoming was currently strewn witch mountains of paper, rolls of parchment, and old, leather-bound books with yellowing pages. Scrolls of parchment were poised precariously around various locations in the room, threatening to topple onto the heads of passersby. Ancient and recent maps were spread out across previously bare surfaces, on tables, across couch cushions, in random points on the floor, and some were even charmed to the walls with pins and ink marking certain areas. It was no wonder that those passing through the house in the past months wisely avoided the sitting room at all costs.

James waded his way through the mess of papers and parchment littering the floor, careful not to bump into any of the carefully arranged stacks for fear of creating an avalanche. Wrestling himself free of a few scrolls, he stepped out of the sitting room, closing the door behind him, and made his way into the kitchen. The teenager rummaged through the contents of the cupboard on the far side and pulled out a large flagon of butterbeer and a glass tankard. Taking an apple from the fruit bowl, he made his way to the kitchen table and poured himself a tankard of the delicious amber liquid. James took a swig of butterbeer and let out a contented sigh as the delectable drink trickled down his parched throat, refreshing him.

"So, the hermit has emerged!"

James jumped and spun around. "Padfoot!" he said in surprised glee, not having noticed his best friend's entrance.

"Hey, Prongsie," said black-haired, grey eyed Sirius Black as he made his way over to the table dropping an armful of shopping bags on it as he passed. James had to stop his eyebrows from creeping up to meet his hairline.

"You went…shopping, Padfoot?" The bespeckled teen couldn't keep the smile out of his words.

"Order business," said Sirius dismissively, failing to keep a slight bitter tone from creeping into his voice.

James laughed. "You know, when I heard you telling Dumledore you wanted to go off on some secret mission or whatever, I certainly wasn't expecting you to stake out the nearest grocery store."

Sirius growled at his laughing friend. "I hate shopping."

"We know, Pads."

Sirius moved over to the kitchen and grabbed himself a glass tankard from the far cabinet, plopping down in a chair beside his friend. James poured the teenager some butterbeer before taking a swig from his own tankard. The boys sat in silence for a few moments, both consumed in their own thoughts before Sirius final spoke up, setting his tankard on the table and leaning back in the wooden kitchen chair.

"So, Prongsie, speaking of secret missions, how's your lovely research going?" he asked, an amused glint in his eye.

James groaned audibly. "There's a reason I always hated the library," he said by way of explanation.

Sirius let out a loud, bark-like laugh. "I must say, I do not envy your 'mission' in the least."

The messy-haired teen shot his friend an annoyed glare. "At least I'm not sent to do women's jobs," he said, eyeing the groceries. It was Sirius's turn to glare. There was a moment's silence between the two boys as they both basked in the light of their in content.

"Speaking of women," said Sirius slowly, "how's your Lily-flower?"

"What was that about me?"

The two boys whipped around to see a smirking Lily Evans standing in the doorway. She looked as read-headed and dangerous to cross as ever.

"Lily!" cried James happily.

"Hello James," she said, making her way over to her boyfriend. She planted a kiss on James's cheek before pulling up a seat next to him and across from Sirius. Lily deposited the stack of books in her arms on the table and turned to the two friends.

"I heard Dumbledore sent you on a 'secret mission'," she said, smirking in Sirius's direction. The boy growled and glared at his best friend's girlfriend.

"You enjoy watching us wallow in our misery, don't you, Evans," he stated, obviously annoyed. Lily just smiled at him and turned to her boyfriend.

"Finished with the research, James?"

"I wish," groaned James, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. Sirius sniggered.

"You know, Black," said Lily conversationally, standing up and peering into the grocery bags, "ice cream melts. And meat usually goes bad if you keep it out of the fridge for too long."

Sirius growled and reluctantly began to put away the groceries as an amused Lily Evans stood by and watched as he tried to figure out what foods went where.

"Is the pampered aristocrat having an itty-bit of trouble?" Lily smirked innocently.

Sirius did not attempt to hide his annoyance. "This is a house-elf's job," he grumbled while Lily berated him on putting lettuce in the freezer and milk in the cupboard.

"No, Black, it's the job of any self-sufficient human being who wants to survive through the week," she smirked in response. Sirius murmured something under his breath about women and their 'crap-sense' of humor which earned a silencing charm from Lily.

"If you can't clean your mouth out, then it's better for our health and yours that you can't talk for a bit." Sirius stuck his tongue out at her after realizing that cursing at the top of his lungs wouldn't work since no sound came out. He shot a glare at his best friend who was silently laughing at the two's antics. James finally composed himself and turned to the red-head.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything, but what are you doing here?"

"There's an Order meeting in," she checked her watch, "seven minutes. Dumbledore sent a Patronus ahead to inform all the members that are to be present."

"What?" James asked, shocked. "And no one saw fit to tell me?"

"Well, you seemed to be enjoying yourself immensely locked in that sitting room so we felt it would be a disgrace to disturb your fun…" The twinkle in her eye reminded the boy uncannily of Dumbledore when he heard that he and Sirius had charmed the doors of the greenhouse to sing "Stayin' Alive" whenever they were opened.

James glared at her. "Where's everyone else?"

"Oh, they should be wandering in any minute now."

As if on cue, the front door opened and two young men made their way into the kitchen, talking and laughing. They were both tall and lanky with fiery red hair and identical in all but their clothing. They were some seven years older than the teenagers that currently occupied the kitchen.

"Fabien! Gideon!" cried James and Lily, ecstatic at seeing their friends who had been off on some mission or other for the Order.

"Hey, James, Firecracker," they said as one as they grabbed seats at the kitchen table.

"How are you guys?" asked James. Lily and Sirius made their way across the room and sat down with the other three.

"Good, good…" said Gideon offhandedly. Both twins were looking at Sirius strangely.

"Say, Jamesie –" began Fabien.

"– what's up with Siri," finished Gideon.

"He's so –"

"– quiet!" they finished together. The twins' back-and-forth speech was something that set them apart from most others. Some found the fact that the two could finish each other's sentences quite endearing. Others found it confusing or annoying. Others like Dumbledore and the three teenagers found it somewhat amusing.

"Not that we're complaining –"

"– we could really get used to –"

"– not having to put up with –"

"– his annoying –"

"– little voice."

Sirius glared at the two older men. He was quite annoyed with their obvious amusement. "Apparently he said something and Lily-flower got a bit annoyed," James said by way of explanation through his over-large smile.

"Ah," said Gideon in understanding. "There's a reason –"

"– you don't upset –"

"– a Firecracker!" The twins smiled brightly.

Lily tried to look annoyed, but the smile tugging at the corner of her lips belied her true feelings. It was just impossible to be angry with the twins. Even when they put nasty itching hexes on your undergarments that lasted for three whole days. Well, perhaps it was possible to be angry about that, but the anger would soon wear off and one could not help but laugh along with the young men at the ingeniousness of the prank.

When the twins had first come up with their nickname for Lily, she had been slightly annoyed. However, she couldn't help but agree that it was quite fitting. With her flaming red hair, fiery temper, and her nastily good charm-work, she was in every way a firecracker just waiting to be ignited and explode in a flourish of colors and jinxes that would send a grown man running for cover. They were right; there was a reason you didn't cross Lily Evans, something James and Sirius knew better than anyone else.

The door opened again and in sauntered two more teenagers. One was the same age as the new graduates. She had red-blonde hair, a somewhat round face, and fierce blue eyes. The girl was skinny and slightly petite. The other was a boy a year older. He was almost as tall as the twins with broad shoulders and wavy, chocolate-brown hair.

"Frank!" cried James just as Lily and the twins cried, "Alice!"

Lily hurried over to her best friend and the two embraced, laughing and chatting away. "I haven't seen you since Graduation! How is everything…"

The boys and men left the girls to their discussion of girly things and Frank took a seat at the table with the others.

"Hiya, Frankie," the twins chorused.

"Fabien, Gideon," he acknowledged, smiling.

"So, Frank, how goes auror training?" James asked, surveying his friend. Frank, however, was staring at Sirius, a strange expression crossing his face. "What's up with –"

"– Sirius," James finished, smiling broadly at his best friend. Sirius stuck his tongue out. "Well, he said something Lily didn't like and –"

"– she got angry," Frank finished. It was not a question. Everyone in the Order was familiar with Lily's infamous temper and being the boyfriend of Alice Prewett, Lily's best friend, he was exposed to it more than most.

"You guessed it!" The twins were having far too much fun poking fun at Sirius's inability to talk. It was highly amusing to say the least.

"So, back to the question. How's –"

"– auror training going," finished Frank.

"Wow, and people think –"

"– it's scary when –"

"– we finish each other's' –"

"– sentences."

"Do you two honestly try to be annoying, or does it just come naturally." Alice made her way over to the table closely followed by a smiling Lily.

"We like to think of it as a God given talent, couskins," Gideon answered reverently.

Alice rolled her eyes. "I don't know how Molly puts up with the two of you."

"Aw, you know you love us!" Fabien smiled broadly at his cousin.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Somewhere deep, deep down where no one can find it."

The twins pouted. "You don't play fair," they whined.

"I play it like a Prewett," she stated flatly, "and Prewetts never play fair."

The twins stuck out their tongues at their cousin, but wisely kept their mouths shut.

"So," James cut in. "How's auror training, you two?"

"It's going quite well, actually," stated Frank. "One more year of training and I'll be out of the trainee status, though I'll still have to work alongside Moody."

"Still have two more years," Alice sighed dejectedly. The table erupted into laughter at the sight of her face.

"At least you're not holed up in some sitting room doing mountains of research for God-knows-what," James stated.

The laughter increased ten-fold as they remembered James's 'secret mission'. They had all accidentally walked into the sitting room at some point or other and witnessed the spectacle that was James's research.

"This is probably Dumbledore's idea of payback for all the years of misery you and your friend put the staff through," said Frank.

"Dumbledore wouldn't be that cruel!" James cried, exasperated at the thought. But, suddenly, it all made sense to him. This was definitely a Dumbledore thing to do.

"Making you do research –"

"– sending Sirius to get groceries –"

"– dunno, mate –"

"– sounds like Dumbledore to me."

"And by 'me' he really means 'us'," Alice put in.

"You know us so well, Miss Prewett," smiled Fabien.

"I must inquire as to why," added Gideon.

"Oh, you know," stated Alice leaning back. "I'm only your cousin after all." She sounded for all the world as if she wished that it weren't true.

The door suddenly burst open and in walked Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody followed by Marlene Mckinnon. Moody was strict and frizzled with greying hair, a peg leg, and a magical eyeball that did not seem to want to fix itself on any point in the room. His clothes were rumpled and a chunk was missing from his nose. The auror carried a wooden staff which complimented his wooden leg. A flask hung from his hip. Moody was probably the most well-known, well-respected auror of all time. He was extremely paranoid and a permanent scowl was etched across his already scarred and grizzled features. Moody was definitely not one to cross.

Marlene Mckinnon was only a few years the graduates' senior. She was tall and skinny with flowing brown hair and deep, chocolate-colored eyes. Her elegant features stood out in sharp contrast with those of Moody. She walked with an unparalleled grace. She was a qualified auror as of two years prior and had a lively exuberant personality. However, when provoked, she could be as dangerous as a hungry Hungarian Horntail that had just spotted its first meal in three days.

The two were fellow aurors, Marlene having been trained by Moody himself, and had formed a fast friendship. She was one of the few people alive who could poke fun at Moody and live to tell the tale. Together, they were a great force to be reckoned with. They fought alongside each other in many a battle and never had there been such a pair. Their side-by-side dueling prowess could be rivaled only by that of the Prewett twins.

The two aurors entered the kitchen. Moody growled at the occupants and took up a position against the wall by the cupboard, taking a swig from his hip flask. Marlene stopped gracefully in the doorway. "Hello everyone," she said in a cheery voice.

"Hello Marlene," chorused the others, smiling broadly at the woman. Marlene was always fun to be around. All the Order enjoyed her company.

"How are you children?" she asked cheerily, taking the seat on the far side of the table, across from James.

"Oi!" the twins shouted. "We're older than you!"

"I was speaking about mental age, not physical," Marlene stated, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The twins grumbled and moved away from the table and struck up a conversation with Moody.

"We're doing fine," said Lily, smiling. "James is still being drowned in truckloads of parchment and books, Sirius is still fetching groceries and the like, and I started Healer training a couple months ago."

Marlene was looking from the amused James, to the jovial Lily, to the angry and annoyed Sirius. "I take it something happened before I arrived?" Ever the observant one, she hit the hammer on the nail.

"Lily got angry," James stated plainly.

"Say no more," said Marlene smiling. "But you might want to take that silencing charm off of Sirius when Dumbledore gets here so he can participate in the meeting.

"Don't worry," piped Alice. "We might actually be able to get something done without Black constantly interrupting."

Marlene's laugh was musical and contagious. "Too true, Alice; too true." Sirius glared at the newcomer, his annoyance increasing tenfold.

"Where's Dumbledore?" asked Frank, suddenly, glancing at his wristwatch. "He's never one to be late to his own meetings."

"Right you are, Mr. Longbottom."

The occupants of the kitchen turned to the door, not having heard the Headmaster's entrance. Moody looked a bit unnerved by this as it was common knowledge that he never let anyone sneak up behind him.

Albus Dumbledore was a tall, cheery man, though obviously old, always emitted a feeling of great youth and energy. He wore midnight blue robes flecked with numerous silver stars. His Silver beard went down to his waist, and his hair was cut off just below his shoulder blades. His pointed wizard's hat matched his elegant robes. He peered at those in the room with twinkling, clear-blue eyes. Perched on the bridge of his known were his half-moon spectacles he always wore.

Dumbledore smiled at the Order members gathered in the kitchen. "Thank you all for being here. I am sorry the message was short-notice, but a matter of urgency has just reached my ears and I had to act quickly."

The tone of the room became suddenly serious. The younger men and women shot each other concerned, questioning glances. What could be so important that Dumbledore had to call an unscheduled meeting of only a few of the Order? Certainly not another death…right?

Dumbledore looked around and clapped his hands. "Well then," he said cheerily. "I would invite you all into the sitting room but seeing as ours is currently buried under a mountain of parchment and books, that might not be the best place for us to meet." He looked at James when he said this, the twinkle back in the old man's eye.

James tried his best not to scowl at his former headmaster. Frank was right; this was Dumbledore's cruel idea of payback. However, he had to admit, the old man was certainly ingenious in his strategies. He had given him the one punishment that would truly push him beyond the limits of his sanity without causing physical pain to himself or anyone else.

"Let us go upstairs to the meeting room, then, so we can discuss this urgent matter." There was the sound of chairs scraping against wood as the Order members got up and made their way towards the door. "And, Miss Evans," said Dumbledore cheerily, "you might want to take off that silencing charm you placed on Mr. Black. While I, too, enjoy the blessed silence gained from this, Mr. Black will need to be heard so he may participate in the meeting along with the rest."

Lily reluctantly took out her wand and cast the counter-charm.

"Thank God!" yelled Sirius, thankful that, at least, he could hear his own voice. The rest of the room groaned. Dumbledore merely chuckled.

"To the meeting room, please."

AN: So, what did you think?