The Talisman of Monguk

Chapter 1: The Order of the Phoenix

Angela Hawkins hesitantly reached for the handle to the door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It was her first meeting with the Order of the Phoenix and she was feeling apprehensive.

"Go ahead," Arthur Weasley whispered. "It'll be fine. Just remember to keep your voice down in the hallway." She didn't have to worry about that. She was too nervous to utter a sound. With a lump in her throat and her heart pounding, she opened the door and walked inside.

The hallway was dimly lit and gloomy. It was empty except for several old family portraits on the walls and an elaborate iron chandelier that appeared to be made of twisted snakes. They seemed to move and slither around each other in the eerie light. The house gave the impression that it had once been a fine mansion probably belonging to some very wealthy family. Now it was a bit derelict, an impression enhanced by the musty odor, the dusty fixtures, and the peeling wallpaper.

Off of the main hallway were several doorways and a large staircase with an iron railing that lead to many floors of upper rooms. The floor creaked as Angela entered the hallway. She hesitated, unsure of her way. Arthur stepped inside, closed and bolted the door behind them.

"We meet downstairs in the kitchen," he said. "Follow me."

He led her down the corridor to an open doorway at the far end. She could hear the sound of voices coming up from below. She followed, their footsteps echoing in the deserted hall. They passed down a stone staircase to the kitchens of the old mansion.

The stairway opened into a large room dominated by a tremendous stone fireplace that covered one wall. In the middle of the room was a huge roughly hewn table surrounded by mismatched chairs. It was strewn with parchments and scrolls.

Assembled in the room, she saw the oddest assortment of people that one could ever meet. There were adult men and women of all ages ranging from twenty-year-olds to some that appeared quite ancient. They were attired in the strangest combinations of dress imaginable - top hats, leather jackets, waistcoats, jeans, bowler hats, and vintage dresses. It was as if she'd entered a child's dress-up party in a consignment clothing shop.

Yet as she looked around, none of this startled her at all. She didn't even raise an eyebrow. For Angela Hawkins was herself a witch and these were other witches and wizards. As few in the wizard community had much interaction with non-magical people, or Muggles, they had little experience in dressing like them.

Angela, who had more exposure to the Muggle world than most, wore a sundress with a light cardigan over the top suitable for this warm July evening. She was a pretty young witch with green eyes and wavy chestnut hair pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck.

People were gathered around the table in groups of two or three, some studying the scrolls, others conversing excitedly. No one looked up when they entered.

"Come on. I'll introduce you around," said Arthur.

Angela's green eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed as they approached the first group of people.

"Angela Hawkins, I'd like you to meet my wife, Molly." Mrs. Weasley was a plump, pleasant witch with red hair to match her husband's.

"Nice to meet you," she answered, extending her hand with a motherly smile. "Arthur told me that you would be joining the Order today."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Angela answered, taking Mrs. Weasley's hand. Mrs. Weasley took Angela's arm and led her to the others in the group.

"This is Kingsley Shacklebolt." She motioned to a tall muscular wizard with a shaved head and one gold earring. He greeted her with a deep base voice.

"I recognize you. You work for the Ministry of Magic. You're an Auror, I believe. I work in the Ministry too. Nice to meet you," Angela replied. An Auror's job was to track down Dark wizards. They were exceptional fighters and Kingsley certainly looked the part.

"Nymphadora Tonks," Molly continued, pointing to a young woman with shocking pink hair.

"Just Tonks please," Tonks replied, extending her hand toward Angela.

"Here's Remus Lupin." Mrs. Weasley motioned toward the man standing next to Tonks. He was thin with a pale complexion. His clothes were worn and had been mended many times. His light brown hair was tinged with gray that made him appear older than his years. But what caught Angela's attention most were his eyes. There was a hint of sadness in those blue-gray eyes and something more. She couldn't pinpoint just what it was, but she found herself staring a little longer than she thought proper. She blushed as he greeted her and turned to the gentleman beside him.

"The name's Alastor Moody, but most folks call me 'Mad-Eye'." An elderly wizard wearing a bowler hat pulled low over one eye stepped forward and extended his hand.

"Pleased to meet you," Angela replied. As he bent down to kiss her hand, the bowler hat slid off his head, revealing the magical glass eye hidden beneath it. The eye swiveled around wildly. Angela startled and withdrew her hand.

"Oh, don't mind that. That's just my magical eye, a very useful tool when you're an Auror. It does give people a start though," Moody replied gruffy. The others laughed and Angela smiled.

The introductions continued around the table with too many names for Angela to remember. Her initial nervousness had worn off, though, and she was beginning to feel more at ease.

"So what brings you into the Order?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked her.

It was a fair question. But to answer it truthfully, she would have to go back fifteen years to a time when she was a teenager and a student at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was then that a Dark Wizard, known as Lord Voldemort, was at the zenith of his powers. He and his faithful followers, the Death Eaters, presided over a reign of terror unprecedented in wizard history. The Dark Lord was ruthless and cunning. Few witches and wizards were brave enough to defy his will. The fear of him was so great that most wizards dared not even utter his name.

While at home, Angela relied on the protection of her parents. They did everything in their power to shield her and her brothers from the atrocities of Voldemort's rule. Still, she could not help but notice the worry etched on her father's handsome brow or the way he clutched her tightly to him every time they parted company.

Once at Hogwarts, Angela was safe from harm. The school was protected by many charms. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of the school, presided there. He was believed by many to be the greatest wizard of the age and he was not afraid of Lord Voldemort.

Then one day, nearly fifteen years ago, the unthinkable happened. Voldemort met defeat at the hands of the most unlikely person of all - a helpless infant! No one understood how, but the rumors flew far and wide. It was said that Voldemort's curse, intended to kill the infant child, had rebounded upon him, robbing him of his powers and reducing him to a mere shadow of his former self. The child miraculously survived unscathed, but for a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. This child was, of course, Harry Potter.

For thirteen years, the wizard world knew peace and freedom from fear. Then last year, new rumors began to surface, rumors that Lord Voldemort had regained his strength and was reunited with his followers. Harry Potter claimed to have witnessed the event and Albus Dumbledore himself proclaimed it to be true. Dismissing Dumbledore's claims as the folly of an addled old man, Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, repeatedly denied and discouraged these murmurings, but Angela could not dismiss them so lightly. She worked in the Wizengamot Administration office and had frequent dealings with Dumbledore and the others on the wizard high court. Dumbledore had been Head Warlock of the Wizengamot and she had the utmost respect for his opinion.

Then just weeks ago, Lord Voldemort and his followers had attempted a break-in at the Ministry of Magic. While the Dark Lord had escaped, several of his followers were captured and arrested. They were taken to Azkaban, the wizard prison guarded by much-feared creatures, called dementors. Now, Minister Fudge could no longer deny the truth. Lord Voldemort had returned!

For her part, Angela was determined to do something to fight back. She could not stand on the sidelines, helplessly watching this threat to her world. Not knowing where else to turn, she confided her wishes to Arthur Weasley, who worked at the Ministry of Magic on the same floor. She knew that he was close to Dumbldedore, as she'd seen them talking together on various occasions. He told her about the Order of the Phoenix, a secret organization formed by Dumbledore, whose sole purpose was to counter and, if possible, defeat the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. During this past year, the Order had convened and fought with some success to thwart his evil intentions. They were the ones who forced the Dark Lord to show himself and alerted the wizard world to his return. And it was Arthur that brought her here today to the Order's headquarters at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

She was about to answer Kingsley's question, when the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a wizard clad all in black. He was angular with a sharp pointed nose and greasy black hair. Angela immediately recognized her former Professor, Severus Snape. When he arrived, the chatter died down. The witches and wizards all took their seats and the meeting officially began.

"Come sit beside me, dear," offered Molly Weasley, pulling up a chair for Angela and motioning for her to sit down. "That's Severus Snape. He's a spy for our side. He often leads these meetings."

Snape stood importantly at the head of the table. He had a commanding presence that Angela remembered from her days at Hogwarts. He could keep a classroom full of students in line with a mere look or whispered instruction. The room fell silent, as he began his report.

"It should not surprise you to know that the Dark Lord is furious. He is enraged that the Potter boy broke the prophecy before he could hear it. He, of course, wants revenge. It is his highest priority," Snape began.

Angela leaned over to Molly and whispered, "Prophecy? What is he talking about?"

In a barely audible voice, Molly replied, "There was a prophecy concerning Harry and the Dark Lord. All last year, You-Know-Who's been trying to get his hands on it, but Harry destroyed the prophecy. That was the row at the Ministry of Magic."

Angela was about to ask her another question, when she spotted Snape's glare out of the corner of her eye. His withering look silenced her.

"Headmaster Dumbledore wants the boy kept under twenty-four hour watch. I trust that you have arranged it. From experience, I can attest that Potter has an unhealthy disregard for rules and a tendency to turn up in the wrong places. I do not envy you in this task," Snape hissed.

"We're already on it," growled Moody. "But we need more volunteers for next week. Anybody interested can see me after the meeting."

As if anticipating Angela's next question, Molly leaned over and whispered, "Harry is staying with his Muggle aunt and uncle, the Dursleys, for the summer. They are awful people. We wish that he could come and stay with us, but I'm sure that Dumbledore has his reasons. Anyway, we've set up watches to keep an eye on him."

Angela nodded.

"Perhaps for our own safety, as well as for Harry's, we should consider working in pairs," added Lupin. "One wizard is no match for several Death Eaters. If Voldemort is that angry with us, he's not going to send his Death Eaters out alone."

At the mention of the Dark Lord's name, many of the members flinched.

"Wise advice," said Moody. Many others in the room nodded in agreement. Snape, however, shot Lupin a look full of loathing.

"I'd also like to remind you that Harry is in a Muggle neighborhood. We'll have to be very careful to blend in," said Arthur Weasley. "Last week, someone showed up for duty in his wizard robes." He cast a disparaging look at an old wizard in the back of the room.

"Moving on," continued Snape, "the Dark Lord is also anxious for the release of those Death Eaters now imprisoned in Azkaban. My sources tell me that he is making, shall we say, arrangements for their liberation. Several of them have wealth and influence enough to ensure their swift release. For the others, the Dark Lord will see that Azkaban will not hold them for long."

He continued, "As you know, the Dark Lord has been sending his Death Eaters abroad as emissaries to other creatures to create alliances. His goal is to build a large army. In this area, he has been most successful. He has already secured alliances with the giants and the dementors. Now, he is courting the goblins."

"What could he possibly offer the goblins to bring them to his side?" barked Moody. "The only thing that they're interested in is money. And they've already got most of it."

"He doesn't plan to offer them anything," Snape replied. "If he finds what he's seeking, he'll get their support without it."

"What is he looking for?" asked Lupin.

"The Talisman of Monguk," answered Snape.

This news elicited murmurs and gasps from the members of the Order.

"What is the Talisman of Monguk? And why does You-Know-Who need it?" asked Tonks.

An elderly witch in a lavender dress stood up. "The Talisman of Monguk is legend. It is said to be a Goblin charm from ancient times. Whoever holds the talisman has dominion over the goblins. In their own hands, it guarantees their freedom. No other people can subjugate them. If held by an enemy, it enslaves them."

"So if You-Know-Who finds this charm or whatever it is, the goblins must fight on his side?" asked Tonks.

"Yes, that's exactly what it means. And if the goblins join forces with the Death Eaters, then we are lost," Lupin replied sagely.

"Why?" said another wizard, "Don't we have any allies?"

"Unfortunately, we have very few. The Ministry's discriminatory policies haven't exactly encouraged other races to join our side," said Lupin bitterly.

"What about the centaurs?" a dark-haired witch asked.

"The centaurs aren't interested in human affairs," replied Snape. "They are more interested in reading signs in the heavens. It is unlikely that they will join either side."

"Didn't Dumbledore send Hagrid to the giants?" another wizard interjected.

"Yes, but the Death Eaters were there too. And they were more persuasive," said Kingsley.

"So Remus is right then. We're outnumbered," said Moody darkly. "And if Voldemort gets the goblins too, we're doomed."

"Then we must not let him get it," said Arthur determinedly.

"There's just one problem," interjected Tonks. "We don't know where it is."

The elderly witch spoke up again. "According to the legend, the talisman is hidden deep in the catacombs under St. Meliflua's Cathedral. It is protected by deep magic. To find it, you need the key - a magical map. It is useless to search the catacombs without the map. They have been searched numerous times and the talisman has never been found. Unfortunately, the location of the map has been forgotten. No one knows where it is hidden."

"To find the talisman then, we need to locate the map first," said Kingsley.

"I'll look into it and see what I can find out," offered Lupin. "And we should consult Dumbledore and see what he knows."

"And we ought to set up patrols around Gringotts Wizarding Bank," suggested Moody. "That's where the goblins are. And that's where we're likely to find Death Eaters snooping around for clues."

A murmur of approval followed this suggestion.

"All right then, that's settled," he continued. "See me after the meeting to volunteer for patrol duty."

* * * * * * * * *

As the meeting ended, Snape swept toward the exit. Angela stepped forward to greet him.

"Hello, Professor Snape. I doubt that you remember me. After all, it has been fourteen years. I'm Angela Hawkins. I was once one of your students."

Snape paused and studied her closely. "Ah yes, Miss Hawkins, you were in my N.E.W.T. potions class the first year I taught at Hogwarts, were you not?"

"Yes, that's right."

"As I recall, you did very well. Quite astonishing considering that you weren't a Slytherin." He continued silkily, "Forgive me, if I did not recognize you at first. You have changed...matured...for the better, it seems."

Angela blushed. "You haven't changed. You look just the same."

"Thank you, my dear."

"Er...Well, I won't keep you. Good evening, Professor," Angela stammered.

"Please, call me Severus," he replied with a slight nod of his head.

And with that, he bid her good night and left the room.

* * * * * * * * * *

Two weeks later, the members of the Order were once again gathered at Grimmauld Place. Tonks, Lupin, Kingsley, Moody, and several others were in the drawing room just off of the main hall, when Angela walked in. The meeting had not yet begun and they were engaged in casual banter.

"Wotcher, Angela," exclaimed Tonks.

"Hello," said Angela as she peered in the doorway.

"Hey, Angela, come in here," Kingsley called. "Tell us more about that Muggle defense. What did you call it?" He turned back to the others and explained, "Tonks, Angela, and I were on guard duty last week and she showed us some pretty fancy maneuvers. Something called a 'spinning heel thrust' and a 'reverse crescent' kick. It was quite impressive."

Angela approached the group, looking embarrassed. "Oh, you mean karate. It's a Muggle martial arts form. It's used mostly for self defense, but it's not terribly useful against wands," she added modestly. "You have to get close to your opponent to use it effectively."

"Still, it looked pretty impressive to me," prompted Tonks. "I couldn't do that." She tried to imitate one of Angela's kicks and fell over. Angela giggled.

"Well, it's more than just fancy kicks. There are also blocks, sets and forms, and techniques. The techniques are combinations of moves to counter specific attacks. But I'm sure you don't want to hear about that."

"Oh, come on," urged Kingsley. "Show us one."

Angela protested, but the others prevailed upon her until she consented.

"Oh, all right. Here's one called 'Dance of Death.' And since you're so eager to see it, you can help me, Kingsley."

Kingsley stepped forward gamely, amid rounds of laughter and needling. He stood facing Angela, his six and a half foot muscular frame towering over her by more than a foot. She pulled out her wand and conjured a cushioned mat on the floor under them and then pocketed her wand again.

"What's that for?" Kingsley asked.

"Because that's where you're going to be lying in a few minutes," Angela answered.

The crowd hooted with laughter. Kingsley just rolled his eyes in disbelief.

"You're going to take me down. I don't believe it."

"We'll see," she replied smiling. "Now this technique is a defense against a right fighter's punch. You can throw a fighter's punch, can't you?"

Kingsley threw a mock punch in the air.

"Good," she said. "Only throw it harder and directly at me. Don't worry! You'll never land it. And by the way, I'll be landing a few punches on you...not very hard, mind you, but you'll probably want to exhale when you punch to tighten your muscles."

Kingsley rolled his eyes again, grinning broadly.

"On the count of three, throw your punch. One...Two...Three."

It was over in a matter of seconds. Kingsley threw the punch. With quick reflexes, Angela blocked, struck, maneuvered her leg behind Kingsley's, and hit him hard with her right elbow and shoulder, sending him sprawling backward onto the mat below. She followed with a few feigned punches and backed off, her fists raised in guard position. The crowd watching exploded with laughter. Kingsley looked up at the ceiling and whistled appreciatively.

"Are you all right?" Angela asked, extending her hand to help him up.

"Oh, he's fine," answered Moody. "It's just his ego that's been bruised."

This comment evoked another round of laughter.

"Thanks, Kingsley," Angela said as she smiled. "You've been a great sport."

Kingsley stood up rubbing the back of his head. "So where did you learn to do that?" he asked.

At this, Angela blushed. "Well, my mother is a Muggle. She enrolled me in self-defense lessons from about age six. She thought it would help me to hold my own against my two older brothers. If you knew them, you'd understand. Anyway, I took karate lessons for years. I'm now a black belt, third degree." When she saw the puzzled stares, she added, "Earning your black belt is kind of like achieving a N.E.W.T."

Kingsley whistled again. "Remind me not to ask you for another karate demonstration."

There was more laughter.

One of the spectators turned toward the door and said, "Look, Professor Snape is here. We'd better head downstairs for the meeting."

Angela spun around and saw Severus Snape standing in the doorway. She wasn't certain how long he'd been there or how much he'd seen, but he had a rather peculiar expression on his face. It was a very disapproving look, almost as if he'd swallowed something distasteful. He turned and walked down the hall, followed by the rest of the group.

"That was a most entertaining demonstration, Angela," said Moody. He offered her his arm. "Can I walk you downstairs?"

"Certainly," she replied.

Angela waved her wand and the mat disappeared. Then she took Moody's arm and they walked out of the room.