Chapter 40 - An Insight On Our Near Futures

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Transfiguration class was a dreadful time for most people—classes and lessons were exhausting, and the written schoolwork and practising hours gave everyone at least a headache a week. This was true in general, but not for Sirius. He would often whine about the homework and complain as loud as he could every chance he got about any practical spell that had to be performed in class, but in reality, he loved Transfiguration. It was the one thing he was most excited about when he first got to Hogwarts, and it did not disappoint. So when he was pulled out of class by no other than Professor McGonagall herself, he was pissed off. He obviously had to pretend it was the best thing to happen to him all week as he bid his goodbyes, but he definitely would check James's notes for the class later in the night.

Sirius walked through shortcuts all the way up to the Headmaster's office, just as McGonagall had instructed him to.

"I swear it wasn't me," said Sirius as he closed the door, not taking his eyes off him. "This time it's true, I'm afraid."

"Sit down, Sirius," said Dumbledore, trying hard not to smirk. "You're not in trouble."

"Bloody hell, really?" he said, plopping down on the chair. "Something must be wrong, then. I don't even believe that."

"There's still time for plenty of trouble, I'm afraid. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?" Dumbledore pushed a glass bowl full of yellow sweets across the desk. "They're my favourite."

"One can't hurt, right?" Sirius said, grabbing one and tossing it into his mouth. "Why am I here, then?"

Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him. "This is a complicated and serious matter," he said, and Sirius smiled. "As you may know, we're at war. And we're looking for people who will commit to the cause to fight back and resist the ideals Voldemort is trying to impregnate in the magical society."

"I'll do it," said Sirius, without a doubt. "Count me in. I'll fight."

Dumbledore looked at him from above his half moon shaped glasses, a curious glint in his eyes as he took in Sirius' eagerness. It wasn't something he could hide, anyway. He knew the situation had been getting worse with every passing day, especially because it was happening all around him and the people he loved. And Sirius felt helpless. He couldn't do what he thought was right inside the castle's walls—he wanted to get out there and get his hands to work.

"We ask for your discretion," Dumbledore continued, his tone unwavering. "If you accept, you'll be part of a secret society I formed, called the Order of the Phoenix. We're active, but we need more people capable of fighting. And I see great potential in you, Sirius. I think that, if you decide to join, you'll make a great difference."

"Who else is involved in this?" Sirius asked, sitting on the edge of the seat, feeling his skin prickle with excitement. Dumbledore smiled.

"All at its time. What you need to know is that we, as witches and wizards, have a duty in the magical society that has repercussions on the real world, too. That will have to be enough for now."

"I understand," Sirius said, nodding in agreement. "I'd like to be a part of it. I want to be in the Order."

"I want you to be aware of what I'm asking of you," Dumbledore said, his voice as calm and slow as ever. "It will be dangerous. Risks must be taken with time."

"I know." Sirius crossed his arms and stretched his legs. "We are facing a war. There isn't an easy way out. Either we fight or we give up. And I'm not about to sit down and do nothing about it. I like my life, and I want to keep it."

"Very well, then." Dumbledore smiled. "Once again, I must ask you not to say anything to anybody yet. I'm sure you'll want your friends to know as well, but as I said before, all at its time. You may go now."

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