Trust and Betrayal: A Prequel

11. Invitations and Obligations (Part 3)

October 1978

If one were to ask any member of the Order of the Phoenix where precisely its headquarters were located, none would be able to say for certain. They might guess that it was in the countryside, which would be true, since the usual sounds of the city did not reach Phoenix Farm. The only things to be heard here were birds, the wind, the rustling of the trees, the voices of Order members as they went about their business or the pops! and cracks! that signified their comings and goings. Or, they might say it was south of Hogwarts, which would also be true, because they'd noticed that both autumn and the first snows of winter came later than they did in the colder climes of Scotland. But the only one with the ability to pinpoint its exact location on a map, were he so inclined, would be the Order's leader and Secret-Keeper, Albus Dumbledore.

The Order's headquarters were comprised of an old farmhouse and several outbuildings, all situated in a clearing surrounded by forest. In addition to having been made Unplottable, there was no road--paved or otherwise--which led to it, preventing hikers or other Muggles from stumbling upon it unawares. Even communications were limited in and out of headquarters, to prevent tracking by unwanted eyes, including their enemies as well as their purported allies in the Ministry. Thus, owls did not fly in and out, and broom travel was prohibited. The only methods of permissible communications were the use of Floo fire in emergencies and their individual Patronus charms, conveniently invented by Dumbledore himself. The user's Patronus was a singular form of sending messages, unreadable by anyone other than another member of the Order.

By all appearances, Phoenix Farm was a perfect bucolic setting, but its peaceful exterior masked the seriousness of its true purpose: to provide a logistical centre of operations for the Order of the Phoenix, and its mission to defeat Lord Voldemort.

According to the Ministry of Magic and its official point of view, the Order didn't exist. Unofficially, however, Dumbledore's 'irregulars' were considered a useful resource for underground surveillance and intelligence. This information was used to assist the Ministry's official forces, the Aurors and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement officers, in their efforts to mitigate the increasing number of Death Eater attacks.

Albus Dumbledore, however, had another purpose for the Order. In the face of an official body that was often encumbered by political machinations, bureaucracy, enemy infiltrations, and an unfortunate penchant for corruption, Dumbledore had deemed that it was necessary to establish an independent entity, one that could use the Ministry's resources to its own advantage. He'd learned the necessity of working outside official channels the hard way, in the wasted years it took to finally defeat Grindelwald. And so, while the Order was happy feed the Ministry helpful information, the intelligence they so painstakingly gathered was used by the Order of the Phoenix for its own purposes: to sabotage and subvert Voldemort's plans whenever and wherever possible.

~*~ Sunday ~*~

Peter
Peter was nearly beside himself with excitement in the days leading up to this one, his first day as a recruit into the Order of the Phoenix! James and Lily had already been to their first meeting and began training soon after their wedding, and Sirius had joined shortly after that. Remus, he'd been surprised to discover, had been invited into the Order before he'd even finished school, which finally explained the reasons for his extended absences over the last year. And today was his turn! Early on this Sunday morning, Peter rushed to meet with his former Headmaster in Diagon Alley in front of Flourish and Blotts.

"Good morning, Mr. Pettigrew," said Dumbledore genially as Peter approached. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir! How will we be travelling there to--"

"The Farm?" Dumbledore interrupted.

Peter surmised that he should be more discreet and nodded. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

"You'll Side-Along with me. I escort all new recruits on their first visit. It helps to ensure security, you see. After today, you may Apparate there yourself or, if needed, by using one of the Order Portkeys."

Peter nodded again, his excitement growing. "But where is the... Farm, sir?"

"Unfortunately, I can't answer that particular question. Again, security and all that. Any other questions, Mr. Pettigrew?"

"No, sir. I'm ready."

Dumbledore held out his arm and, as he took it, Peter was swept along with his former Headmaster to Phoenix Farm.

They set down in the yard of the old farmhouse, which stood amid several outbuildings of what had once been an actual working farm. Peter was pleased to see James, along with a yellow-haired man Peter didn't know, coming to greet him.

James pulled Peter into a one-armed hug. "You made it, Wormtail! Did you have a nice trip? Hello, Professor!"

"Mr. Potter," acknowledged Dumbledore with a smile. "How is the lovely Mrs. Potter doing?"

"She's wonderful, sir!" said James with his usual in-love grin. "Off with Emmeline, working up some pretty tricky charms."

"I'm delighted to hear it!" Dumbledore smiled and turned to the other man. "Mr. Podmore, how are things today?"

"Quiet, sir," the man replied. "Been expecting Dearborn to show today, but we haven't seen him yet."

Dumbledore nodded. "Please inform me when he arrives, will you, dear boy? I'll be in my office. But first I'm going to stop in the kitchen to see if Emmeline has baked some of her special biscuits. I've been thinking about them all day!" He looked down at Peter. "These two will take you from here, Mr. Pettigrew. Good luck and glad to have you with us!"

"Thank you, sir," Peter said, standing up as straight as he could as Dumbledore ambled towards the main house.

"Peter, this is Sturgis Podmore," said James in introduction. "Podmore was two years ahead of us in school. This is Peter Pettigrew, one of ours!"

Podmore and Peter shook hands. "One of them Marauders, eh?" Podmore queried. Peter glanced sideways at James, who was smiling broadly.

"Um, yes," Peter replied, uncertain as to whether this was a good thing or not.

"Good!" Podmore said with a nod of approval. "That means you've already developed some valuable skills, as I've seen for myself. Good for the Order, Pettigrew!" Podmore's square jaw widened into a smile. "I'm to show you around before the meeting, to get a lay of the land. Follow me!"

Walking around the grounds, Peter could see that the only remnants of Phoenix Farm's previous incarnation were to be found in a small, outer barn, where a small number of cackling hens and braying goats were kept to provide milk and eggs for the Order members in residence.

As they rounded the main house, a short witch with long, dark brown hair was tending a nice, large garden, situated near a side door that appeared to lead into the kitchen. Coming closer, the woman paused to look up with a handful of weeds in one hand and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear with the other.

"Hello, ducks!" she called. "A new one?" She stood and took Peter's outstretched hand.

"Peter Pettigrew, ma'am," he said. "Pleased to meet you!"

"Dorcas Meadowes is our Healer-in-Residence," said Podmore. "Infirmary duty, basic field potions and supplies and, um, other special projects." Podmore looked at a pile of wooden beams and construction supplies lying beyond the garden.

"I can see that Hagrid hasn't gotten far on the greenhouse, Dorcas," he said with a knowing smirk.

Dorcas stared at the unfinished building with a dark frown. "He promised to finish it before winter, but at the rate he's going, it'll be next summer!"

Podmore laughed. "The book wagers are odds-on that you're right; the money's on springtime." Dorcas flung a clod of dirt at him in exasperation, but Podmore just laughed.

Peter looked at James in surprise. "Hagrid? From school? He's in the Order too?"

"Dumbledore needs every bit of help he can get," James said, "and he trusts Hagrid with his life."

"Of course," added Podmore, "he can only help when he's here, and Hogwarts keeps him pretty busy." He turned to James. "Not all of us can be 'To the Manor Born', like you and Black. Some of us have to work days to earn a living. Right, Pettigrew?"

They walked towards the back of the Farm. Where the growing fields had once flourished, wild brush and trees had since reclaimed the land.

"Are you and Sirius here every day, James?" Peter asked, feeling a bit of envy flare within him.

"Padfoot is here a fair amount of time. He even has his own room in the farmhouse," James said. "I come during most days, but Lily prefers us to go home at night, after training. Says we need a bit of privacy," he added, pink spots glowing on his cheeks.

They had stopped in a large, open space and Peter observed several odd bits of wood in the shape of houses, fences at odd angles and fake hillocks in various locations.

"This is our outdoor training field," Podmore explained. "Moody has it set up for drills in outdoor defensive manoeuvers. He transfigures the space into whatever we need it to be. We also train in the forest," Podmore said, gesturing to the thick close of trees that surrounded the farm, "and in the main barn for indoor manoeuvers."

"Alastor Moody?" Peter said, his eyes wide with astonishment. Moody was a famous Auror, known for his dogged ruthlessness. Peter had read about him in the Prophet several times. "How can he be in the Order? He's an Auror!"

Podmore shrugged. "Dumbledore has several secret contacts in the Auror Office, including Moody. We may give the Ministry information, but it helps to have intelligence flowing both ways, if you catch my drift."

"Moody is amazing!" exclaimed James. "Scary as hell, but the best. He's tough, though. I ached like the devil after my first week with bruises from head to foot!"

Peter wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. Unless he was in his Animagus form, he wasn't very good at physical exertions, strenuous or otherwise. His mother had always been upset when he was out of breath for any reason, so Peter had made it a habit to avoid any type of exercise.

As they walked back to the farmhouse, Peter discovered that not only was Moody responsible for their training, but he was also Dumbledore's senior officer, charged with coordinating all Order missions. Peter was suddenly gripped with worry that he might not be able to do this. James, however, caught his expression.

"Don't worry, Peter. Everyone gets assigned to the tasks they're best at. I bet your work in the Floo office will be right helpful! But we all have to go through training, to be prepared, don't we? Never know when we might be faced with a surprise attack."

This was not terribly reassuring to Peter, but he nodded to James with a weak smile. It wouldn't do to show he was afraid, not on his very first day.

~*~ Monday ~*~

The next afternoon, Peter was at work, struggling to manage a blockage in the Floo district near Dorset. He'd had to send out a team to the site and was hoping they'd have it all sorted out before the end of the day so he could get to Phoenix Farm in time for training.

Peter heard, rather than saw, his supervisor approach, the tap-tap of his purple boots giving him away.

"Status report, Mr. Pettigrew?"

"Watson and Calloway have been on site, sir, since noon." Peter glanced at the Floo map, with its bright green, pulsing circle. "The flow has increased in that area, so they are making some progress." He pointed to the green dot. "See? It's gotten smaller," he said, his voice wavering.

Mr. Stemwithers frowned, his foot still tapping. "This is the type of disruption that shouldn't have required a site visit, Pettigrew."

Peter didn't respond, but he felt sweat begin to creep down the back of his neck.

"This is the type of disruption that is caused when one is distracted and unable to focus their energies at the task at hand, Pettigrew."

"I-I'm sorry, sir. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." Peter clutched at his hands and felt his face heat with embarrassment.

"Make sure of it. You'll remain on duty until the situation is resolved." Mr. Stemwithers turned on his purple heel and strode away.

Peter let go of the breath he'd been holding and dropped his head into his hands. His first day at Phoenix Farm had been exhausting and frightening. It was no wonder that he had trouble concentrating at work today. And he'd be going back tonight, and every night this week until Friday, when the newer recruits would be given a night off.

Peter sighed but returned his gaze to the map in front of him with resolve. Yesterday, Moody had told them there were going to be gruelling times ahead and they would have to maintain constant vigilance. He'd just have to apply that lesson to remaining sharp at work.

~*~ Tuesday ~*~

Phoenix Farm's main structure was a two-floored, wood-beamed, old farmhouse. In its dining room, Peter and the other recruits were gathered around a magically expanded table, where a Pensieve, several scrolls of parchment, some maps, and photographs of presumed and known Death Eaters were laid about. Marlene McKinnon and Edgar Bones were instructing them on intelligence gathering and analysis.

"Potter, how do you suppose you can identify a Death Eater when they're all in the same ridiculous get up?" Bones asked, looking at James.

There was tittering around the table, but a sharp glare from Bones silenced them at once. Bones wasn't big, but he was solid, and his dark, brown eyes told them he was all business.

James pulled a few of the photographs towards him and studied them seriously.

"You might be able to identify them by the way they walk, or their hair--if their hoods are down--or their voices. If you could get close enough to hear them."

"Excellent, Mr. Potter," nodded McKinnon.

"Their shoes," added Alice.

"Hey, not fair!" Sirius chirped. "She's already learned this in Auror training."

Alice stuck her tongue out at him.

"Children!" snapped McKinnon. Her voice was stern, but there was an indulgent smile on her face. Marlene McKinnon, in contrast to the heavy foreboding personality of Edgar Bones, was light and cheerful. A witch a bit younger than Professor McGonagall, McKinnon was the maternal sort and had taken them all under her wing. But, as with her own children, she brooked no foolishness when it was time to get down to work.

"Alice is correct, Sirius," concurred McKinnon. "And useful information, regardless of its source, is welcome information."

"Quite right," agreed Bones. "Good intelligence can make the difference between life and death in the field." The older man turned to Remus. "Lupin, I think you can provide us with an excellent example to demonstrate this point. Something from your mission this past weekend would be instructional."

All eyes turned to Remus, who looked pained at being the centre of attention and clearly startled at having been called out in this way.

Lily frowned as she watched Remus struggle to respond.

"Remus," she said, "whatever happened, it will be helpful for us to hear. I'm sure we'll all have our share of mistakes."

McKinnon nodded. "She's right. We debrief after every mission and spend the most time discussing where things went wrong. We can't learn from our mistakes any other way. Go ahead, Mr. Lupin."

Remus took a deep breath. "Fenwick and I were conducting surveillance on a rumoured location of a Death Eater hideout, based on information we obtained from a neighbour. We saw robed figures entering throughout the night. It had all the signs of being the right location and we reported it up." Remus paused and swallowed hard. "The next night, based on our intelligence, ten Aurors showed up for a raid." Remus paled and Lily put her hand on his, which was clenched into a fist.

"Go on, Lupin," said Bones, his voice flat.

"It was a trap. The lead was false. We'd been... set up. Once the Aurors were in place, they were attacked from behind. Ambushed."

"And?" prompted Bones.

"Three Aurors were killed and five were wounded."

Alice gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. The Aurors-in-training obviously hadn't been told about this yet, Peter thought.

"Were any Death Eaters apprehended that night, Lupin?" Bones asked, more softly than before.

"No," Remus said hoarsely, glancing shamefaced at Alice. "They all got away."

~*~ Wednesday~*~

Peter found himself struggling to charm a basketful of acorns that had been covered in aconite powder. The charm wasn't holding and the acorns were disintegrating instead of glowing to indicate the spell had taken.

He was also annoyed as he heard Sirius and James off in a corner, laughing with the Prewett brothers, who were in charge of Diversionary Tactics.

"I could use some help here, mates," Peter called to them petulantly.

Gideon Prewett came over and knelt down besides Peter. He thought it was Gideon, anyway. The brothers, although not twins, looked astonishingly alike, both tall and lanky with reddish-blonde curls.

"Sorry, Pettigrew. The blokes there," he said, indicating Sirius and James, "have some smashing ideas that we think might work for us. So, what do you need help with?"

Peter explained the charm problem to Gideon.

Gideon scratched his chin and called to his brother. "Oi! Fabian, c'mere."

Fabian ambled over, and the two brothers examined the acorns, lightly brushing the powder off a few, and tried casting the charm themselves.

"It's the aconite," said Fabian. "The acorns are too heavily coated. The charm won't take."

Peter, Sirius and James spent the next hour brushing the powder off the acorns until there was only a fine coat of aconite on each one.

"Ready to try it now?" asked Gideon after he inspected their work.

Peter nodded and took out one of the acorns from the basket, set it on the table, and pointed his wand.

"Illuminate!"

The acorn glowed red before settling down to look like an ordinary acorn.

The Prewett brothers smiled broadly. "Perfect!" they said in unison.

"They'll explode?" asked Sirius, his eyes shining with excitement.

"Definitely," responded Fabian. "Set them where we want, cast a time-delay spell and..."

"BOOM!" yelled Gideon as he clapped his palms together to demonstrate the effect.

"Wicked," said Sirius and James together, looking at the Prewetts with unabashed admiration.

"Great," said Peter without much conviction, as he envisioned himself getting blown to bits.

~*~ Thursday ~*~

After a training session with Moody in the forest, they all gathered around the dining room table in the farmhouse to receive their field assignments for the following week. Moody stood at the head of the table, and Peter looked up with more than a little apprehension, since this would be his first real job for the Order.

Moody glanced around the room at the still dirty and sweaty recruits, his expression indecipherable. Peter noticed Sirius leaning his chair back precariously, his hands clasped behind his head. Moody seemed to notice as well.

"You lot have worked pretty hard this week, but I want to see a double effort this weekend. Potter and Black, don't think because you've been at this longer you can get sloppy!" Sirius scowled but returned his chair to a more respectable position.

"You're all still recruits till I say otherwise!" Moody picked up a parchment and cleared his throat. "Starting on Monday night, you'll report to work in the following assignments: Alice and Frank, you'll be with me and Podmore on Surveillance. This will tag on nicely to your current Ministry assignment."

Alice and Frank sat up straight and nodded. Moody was their boss both on and off the job.

"Potters, you both will report to McKinnon on Intelligence. Black, the Prewetts want you with them on Diversions with Vance."

Sirius preened, happy to have been requested.

Peter waited anxiously for Moody to call his name. Moody scanned the parchment.

"Right. Pettigrew?" Moody looked up to catch Peter's eye. "You'll be on Headquarters Logistics with Doge."

Peter blinked in confusion. They hadn't received any training in Headquarters Logistics. Not wanting to appear stupid in front of his friends, though, he just nodded.

"Lupin, Dearborn and Diggle are all on special missions next week, but they may call on any one of you for assistance, if needed." Moody scanned the room one more time. "Any questions?"

The room was silent.

"Right then. Off with you. See you on Saturday, bright and early. Dismissed."

They all rose from the table and started chattering about their assignments. Peter pushed through them to make his way up to Moody, who was gathering up his parchments.

"Excuse me, sir, if it's all right, I, um, do have a question."

Moody looked up. "What is it, Pettigrew?"

"What exactly is Headquarters Logistics?"

"Easy as pie, Pettigrew. Inventory supplies, stores. Make a list of what's needed. Make sure we have fresh linens here for members who are staying overnight. Doge will fill you in." He gave Peter a pat on the shoulder. "You'll do well, don't worry. G'night, then!"

Peter watched Moody as he swept out of the farmhouse, a bit stunned. He wasn't sure how he felt about his assignment. On the one hand, he'd be pretty safe tucked away here at headquarters. That was a good thing, wasn't it? He looked around the room. Sirius, James and the others were so clearly excited about their tasks. Peter wasn't very excited about his.

Maybe he wasn't good enough yet to be sent out into the field. Moody had been pretty impatient with him during their training exercises this past week. Yelled at him quite a few times, in fact. Maybe Moody didn't like him.

Peter gritted his teeth. I'll just have to work harder then, he thought. I'll show them I'm good enough. Maybe good enough so that someone will request me next time.

~*~ Friday ~*~

Peter had never been so happy to see the end of a week as he was today, exhausted and bruised, just as James had said he'd be after his first week in training. With the added stress of working full time, Peter couldn't wait to get home, have a long soak in the tub and tuck into the meal his mother had sent over.

So, it was with immense joy that he greeted the night shift when he arrived to relieve him.

"How's it been today, Pettigrew?" asked Bancroft, setting down his pack and taking off his cloak.

"Everything's been quiet, thank Merlin," sighed Peter, who stood up to let Bancroft take his place. "It's all yours, mate."

"Have a date tonight?" Bancroft winked as he jerked his head over to Alicia McKenny, who, Peter was surprised to see, was standing across the room, waving. At him.

Peter waved back and blushed. He knew he should buck up the nerve to ask her out, but every time he tried, his tongue turned into a sausage.

"No," Peter answered. "I'm knackered. Long week."

Bancroft shook his head. "You're a prat, you know that, Pettigrew?"

Peter smiled and blushed again. "Yeah, I suppose I am."

He gathered his things and made his way out of the office and towards the lifts.

"Hey, Peter!"

He turned. Alicia was behind him, smiling.

"Um, if you're not doing anything tonight," she said, trying for a casual tone. "Would you like to go round the Leaky for a pint?"

Peter blinked hard. "Me?" he squeaked, then winced, knowing how stupid he sounded.

"Well, I've been waiting for you to ask me, but I thought I might get old and die before that happened," Alicia said, rolling her eyes. "Well?"

This was turning out to be a better end to the week than he could have imagined!

"Sure!" he said with a huge grin. "But, it's on me," he added.

Alicia laughed. "As it should be!"

Peter thought she had a lovely laugh.

The lift doors opened, and he and Alicia squeezed into the crowd of Ministry employees, all fleeing their offices on a Friday night. He was going on a date. He was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Life couldn't be any more perfect than this, he thought with a sigh of satisfaction as the lift doors closed.

********

Peter had a few more than just a single pint on his date and thought it best not to Apparate home, lest he find part of him splinched and left behind at the Leaky Cauldron. Fortunately, his flat wasn't too far, it wasn't raining, and he was happy enough to walk home, feeling better about himself and his future than he had in a long time.

He was thinking about Alicia, her easy laughter, her pretty hair, her lovely scent. Peter was so lost in his reverie that he didn't notice the two tall figures coming his way until they were nearly upon him. However, even in Peter's slightly intoxicated state, he recognised those robes... those masks....

Shit.

He fumbled for his wand, trying to remember something he'd learned this week.

What were we supposed to look for? Hair? Voice? Their hoods were up and they didn't speak. One of them raised his wand.

Shoes! That was it! Alice said to look at their shoes!

"Stupefy!"

And just before he lost consciousness, Peter noticed that one of them was wearing a distinctive pair of very shiny, purple, dragon hide boots.

A/N - Thanks to celtmama and capella_black for their due diligence in beta'ing this chapter!