"James! James Potter!" McGonagall called out. "A word about your N.E.W.T.s, if you please."
James looked up from where he'd been helping two second year Gryffindors into a carriage to take them to the train station.
"I simply wanted," McGonagall said when they were in her office, "to congratulate you, James. You did very well." He murmured his thanks. Her face was anything but congratulatory; she looked weary, and even a little regretful. "Yes, all right," she said quickly, "there's something else. I'll get right to the point," she said. "Things outside school are getting worse. Nearly a disappearance a day," and she paused, wiping her eye suspiciously. James remembered the story in the Prophet about the latest Ministry official that had gone missing. "You know what is happening."
James answered grimly, "Dark wizards in the school."
"We had hoped - well, never mind that now. James, you are loyal, you are brave, but most importantly, you are too clever for your own good."
"That's what they tell me," he said. McGonagall started walking, slowly, out towards the courtyard. Everywhere students were lugging their trunks to the train, but instead of a huge chattering throng like in most years, there was an uncomfortable hush over everyone. James couldn't ever remember the grounds being so quiet. It was as if all the people running around had had their voices stolen.
"Well," and McGonagall paused to wave her wand and save a struggling first year from falling down the steps, "it's true." She sighed, and then said smartly, "it's time you knew the truth, James. Your father was working for Dumbledore, as am I, as are many people. Fewer," and she halted, "than when we started. We have been fighting towards one goal, and one goal only."
"You're working to bring down Voldemort," James said, slowly. "I knew that much. My father, he left." James shook his head. "It doesn't matter what he left."
"Yes," and here McGonagall wiped a tear away hurriedly. "Your father was a great loss, James." Her voice shook a little bit, but she added, "A great loss."
James nodded. He was waiting for McGonagall to explain why she'd brought it up; it was both overly sentimental and overly personal for her.
"But," and McGonagall swallowed, her voice stronger, "you deserve to know what, exactly, is going on." She stopped, a ways away from the crowd of students, and said quietly, "Your father was a member of a secret society: The Order of the Phoenix. It was started by Dumbledore to try and stop You-Know-Who. Your parents died in service to the Order." She blinked a few times, trying to regain her composure. James felt even more uncomfortable; it was so unlike McGonagall to get worked up. She continued, "they were two of so many casualties in the last few years."
James had no idea what to say; McGonagall was obviously getting to a point, and he was trying to digest what she was saying to try and understand her full meaning, fill in the gaps in her words. It was obvious she was scared, scared and weary and grieving. James also bet that many of the people she meant when she said 'casualties' had been acquaintances, friends. Finally, he asked, "The members of the Order of the Phoenix - they're loyal to Dumbledore, above all else?"
"To the cause of stopping You-Know-Who," she answered. "We've been trying to do wherever we can; bring down his spies, stop the Death Eaters from whatever they're doing. Stop some of the terrible things that happen from happening. Many people have died in service to the Order, and it's quite likely that many more will. It's," and she paused again, suddenly looking more tired than James had ever seen her look, "it's all we can do to stay alive."
When she said nothing else, James finally replied uncertainly, "This is the world we live in."
McGonagall put a hand over her mouth, blinked a few more times. She had to wait a few moments, staring at him, before she continued. "Yes, yes it is, and I'm afraid to say it is only getting worse." She shook her head. "We've been trying as best we can, but in truth, James, we're stretched so thin. If we don't find some more members soon, there won't be any of us left--"
James suddenly knew what she was hedging around saying, what she desperately wanted to hear from him and yet couldn't bring herself to ask. McGonagall was no longer his teacher but a soldier, and James finally knew it. Immediately, he cut her off. "Yes, yes, I'm in, we're all in. Sirius, Lily, Remus, Peter, and I. We want to help." He took a breath, as McGonagall's face cleared slowly, the first sign of hope showing in her eyes.
James said immediately, "what do we have to do?"
~end~