IX: Mysteries Manifold

Chapter IX: Mysteries Manifold

Charis stepped out of the large fireplace into the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Her heart was pounding, and as she felt a little dizzy from the journey by Floo, Charis kept close to the wall, willing her breathing to slow down and taking in her surroundings.

There had only been a few witches and wizards hurrying about their business the last time she had been here, but today, the Atrium was as busy as a nest full of Billywigs; there were dozens of witches and wizards jostling past her, all rushing to their respective workplaces with the frown of Monday morning deeply etched on their faces.

Charis craned her neck, desperate to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. It certainly would have felt reassuring. But alas, none of the witches bustling by had short, flaming red hair.

Oh, well, Charis thought, steeling herself. Morgana sent me Silvy this morning. That must mean she's thinking of me.

Furtively, she touched her star necklace and then pushed herself away from the wall to make her way to one of the lifts at the back of the Atrium.

It was quite a squeeze in the lift, and after having pressed the button for Level Nine, Charis' nose was unfortunately lodged in a very tall wizard's armpit for most of the duration. How uncomfortable and utterly humiliating! Charis could feel herself blushing, but there was little that could be done. She was standing with her back to the wall and the tall wizard right in front of her, and he didn't seem to be interested in moving an inch, not even after most of the other passengers had gotten off at their respective levels. Agonisingly, he himself didn't leave the lift until Level Eight, by which time there was just Charis and a little old witch with frizzy white hair and bejewelled spectacles left, who gave Charis a sympathetic sort of look before departing towards the steps that led to Wizengamot on Level Ten, below.

At the dark and gloomy Entrance of the Department of Mysteries, Grindling Gibbons was waiting to meet Charis. He was once again wearing smart, grey robes, and his hair was again tied back in a ponytail. And his eyes shone just as kindly as they had during their first meeting.

'Good morning! Welcome, Charis. How are you feeling today?'

'I'm a little nervous, to be honest,' Charis admitted, and Grindling smiled.

'Understandable,' he said. 'But there's no need. I promise I'll take good care of you today. Did you have breakfast?'

Charis nodded.

'Good, good!' Grindling beamed. 'We can get started right away then. Now, there are three ways to reach the Hall of Prophecy; last time, we walked through the Time Chamber, remember?'

Once again, Charis nodded. The Time Chamber had been largely covered with sheets and was filled with Unspeakables casting repairing charms on the broken timepieces.

'Today,' Grindling went on, 'I am going to take you through the Space Chamber, a personal favourite of mine. But first, I need to show you the charms needed to access the Hall in each of the three ways. Now, the funny thing about these charms is that once you've mastered them, you will feel like you have forgotten them.'

'Excuse me?' Charis frowned, and Grindling smiled.

'It seems strange, doesn't it? Let me explain: unless you are heading for the Hall of Prophecy and are at the verge of casting one of the access spells, you will not be able to remember them. You won't be able to convey them to anyone. You cannot talk about them, and you cannot write them down. They are like dreams, you see. You know you have them in your mind, but the harder you try to remember them, the more distant they seem. Do you understand?'

Still frowning, Charis started to nod slowly. 'It's a security measure then?' she asked. 'So no one can make me tell them about the spells?'

'Exactly!' Grindling seemed pleased. 'And what's even better: as you are unable to remember the spells outside these premises, the information cannot be made accessible by any means. Not by Veritaserum, not by Legilimency... We're all covered. Now, let me show you how to access the Space Chamber.'

Charis watched attentively, taking mental notes of Grindling's every move, gesture and word. And after he had shown her thrice, she got to try it herself and managed to enter the Space Chamber on her second attempt. And funnily enough, she had not the faintest memory of how she had done it once she stepped into the room. Actually, at first, Charis feared that she had messed up. She couldn't see anything, and there was a strange sensation, familiar to the feeling of Apparating but not quite as intense, and Charis thought that it must be some kind of security measure that transported trespassers away. But after some moments, Charis realised that she was floating, and that the chamber around her was actually filled with tiny pinpricks of light.

'Those are stars,' Grindling explained, floating up beside her. 'And we're weightless, just as we would be in outer space.'

He took Charis by the hand and swirled her around so she came to face the solar system that was suspended in the middle of the room, with the light from the sun the brightest object. Charis could not help but gaze on in wonder; Astronomy had, after all, been one of her favourite lessons at Hogwarts, and the room was very beautiful.

'Now, Charis, could you try and make out the constellation of Ursa Major, otherwise known as The Plough, for me, please?'

'I can try,' Charis replied, her voice a little shaky. She was feeling a bit overwhelmed, but despite the odd feeling in the bit of her stomach, her Ravenclaw brain rose to the challenge.

'There it is,' she said after a few moments and pointed. 'Ursa Major looks almost like a big frying pan. Once you've found Ursa Major, it is very easy to spot Ursa Minor nearby, which looks very much like a mini-frying pan. Polaris, the North Star, is part of the constellation Ursa Minor. It's on the very tip of the "handle" of Ursa Minor.'

Abruptly, Charis stopped and blushed. She had just realised that she had given her boss a lecture on constellations. Grindling, however, smiled.

'This is why I like having trainees from Ravenclaw House. You can think for yourself. Of course, you finding the North Star would have been your next task because that's where the exit door is. Now, after you.'

Blushing even more but at the same time pleased with herself, Charis led the way towards the North Star, finding it surprisingly easy to move in weightlessness. It was almost like swimming, an activity which Charis had always loved. Now, she had a feeling that the Space Chamber would most probably be her favourite way of entering the Hall of Prophecy.

'Welcome to work,' Grindling said cheerfully once they had exited the Space Chamber and entered the Hall of Prophecy. It was illuminated by dim blue fire, which emitted from candle brackets lining the walls but didn't seem to lend any warmth to the room. In the excitement of her induction, Charis had never noticed how chilly the place actually was, and after only a few moments, she felt her hands grow cold and stuffed them into her pockets, at this moment extremely grateful for her temperature-adjusting robes! Still, she felt herself shuddering, but knew it had little to do with the temperature.

'You'll get used to it,' Grindling said in a friendly and encouraging tone, almost as if he had been reading her mind. 'When I started working here, I found the darkness and gloom rather depressing. But after some weeks, I realised that it wasn't all that bad. In fact, I find the glow of the orbs is quite soothing nowadays.'

They walked past rows and rows of shelves, many of them damaged or even empty of any orbs, and Charis realised just how much damage had been done here and how much work lay ahead of her.

'Now, before you can start repairing and logging prophecies, Charis, you will have to consent to taking the Unspeakable Vow,' Grindling explained. 'Unspeakables, as you know, are so named because they are forbidden to reveal any of the secrets they have learned to anyone who has not been privy to them. Therefore, each worker has to take the Unspeakable Vow. It's quite similar to the Mimblewimble Jinx. Do you happen to be familiar with that?'

Charis couldn't help but giggle. Mimblewimble rendered a person inarticulate, and she and Morgana had quite some fun with that particular jinx during the last weeks of their sixth year. Especially when they had realised that certain Slytherin students – no names mentioned – were just as inarticulate once the jinx was lifted as they were while still under its influence. Oh, the grunting!

She read her Vow from an ancient looking piece of parchment, as certain of all the runes as if the text had been written in the Latin alphabet. And she could tell that Grindling was impressed. Had he been a Hogwarts teacher, he would certainly have awarded her House points.

Then, he took an orb from a nearby shelf and handed it to her.

'Now, Charis, once I am out of earshot, I want you to peer into the globe and carefully listen to the prophecy stored inside it. Take your time, and once you know it by heart, I want you to come to me and tell me all about it. I do love a bit of nice gossip in the morning.'

He smiled, and once Charis had taken the orb from him, he started to walk away. 'I'll be in aisle sixteen,' he called over his shoulder. 'Come find me once you are done.'

Charis looked after him for some moments. He was such a nice man, and his kind eyes and smile made Charis feel so at ease. And now that he was walking away from her, she felt almost a little forlorn. But that was silly, of course. He'd just be some aisles away from her.

Shaking her head at herself, Charis concentrated on the orb in her hands, peering at the figure inside it. It was an old woman, wrapped in shawls that were decorated with strange signs and symbols. Her eyes had rolled back into her head, and her voice was drawling and distorted. She spoke of a man born from the loins of a dragon who would rise to power under the shadow of the cross and the crescent moon and be slain by the same sword that had helped him win his throne.

Charis listened to the prophecy four times, desperately trying not only to learn it by heart but also to understand it, but on her fifth attempt, she realised that there was no point in trying. She was not meant to understand the prophecy. It was not her task. So she carefully put the orb back onto the shelf where Grindling had taken it from and headed for aisle sixteen.

'Well, then,' Grindling greeted her, smiling. 'Do tell.'

'The prophecy was made by an old woman,' Charis started.

'And?' Grindling pressed on.

'She spoke about...'

What followed was a trail of grunts and noises which would even have made Crabbe and Goyle look like a couple of geniuses, and Grindling's smile turned into an amused grin.

'Looks like the Vow is working,' he said, and handed Charis a glass of water which she accepted gratefully. Her mouth suddenly was very dry, and there was a distinct taste of old dishrag on her tongue.

'Congratulations,' Grindling went on. 'You have now taken your Vow and are officially a trainee Unspeakable. On the downside, we're now running out of excuses not to work.'

He gestured for Charis to follow him, and they made their way to the back of the hall. There stood a huge, table-sized leather-bound ledger.

'Every prophecy that has ever been here,' Grindling explained, 'is documented in this ledger along with its location in the hall, such as the shelf number and row number. Only I, the Keeper, and the Unspeakables working with me – in this case, you – have access to this ledger. Now, many of the memories which were stored within the shattered prophecy orbs are lost forever. But as they were all duly noted in the ledger, the prophecies can be written out on a slip of parchment, sealed inside a glass orb and placed back to where they used to be on the repaired shelf. That way, the prophecies can still be retrieved by those they are made about and all is not lost.'

He looked at Charis apologetically. 'I know this is not the most exciting of tasks, but it requires a high level of concentration and a methodical mind. I think you'll do just great with it.'

Indeed, Charis found that she soon got into a routine of doing the work, and as the day went on, she got quicker and quicker. Grindling, who himself was concentrating on storing the new prophecies that were coming in and clearing the backlog, was pleased with her progress and was confident that with her help, the Hall of Prophecies would be back to normal in the space of a few months. And when they left the hall for the day, he told Charis that he was very much looking forward to working with her again the next day. Charis, in her turn, blushed and wished her boss and mentor a quiet and relaxing evening. Merlin knew that she was very much hoping to have one herself.

* * *

Charis returned to her little flat feeling tired yet confident that she'd achieved a lot. She hadn't made any serious mistakes, had not broken anything or said anything stupid, and Grindling had even praised her a fair amount of times. And she, too, was very much looking forward to working with him again the next day. He had promised to show her around the department a bit more and introduce her to some of its secrets.

As she stepped out of the grate, Charis was immediately greeted by frantic mewing. She hurriedly petted and fed her hungry cat before fixing herself a leftover breakfast sandwich. Then she kicked off her boots and took off her robes, making herself comfortable in the sofa wearing nothing but her knickers and bra. Living on her own certainly had its advantages, she thought and sunk her teeth into her sandwich, intending not to leave the sofa until it was time to go to bed. Halfway through the snack, however, both her meal and her quiet evening were disturbed by a frantic tapping on the round window in the lounge. Puzzled, Charis left the half-eaten sandwich and went to investigate.

A large grey owl sat hooting urgently on the windowsill, a letter tied carefully to its leg. Charis frowned. Who would send her a letter, she wondered.

Carefully, she removed the letter and let the owl nibble on her sandwich while she herself opened the thick, yellow parchment and began to read.

Dear Charis,

Albus Dumbledore

Charis stared at the letter, her heart racing. Why was the Headmaster of Hogwarts writing to her? And what could be so urgent that he needed to speak to her as soon as possible, face to face, in his office?

Charis immediately started to imagine the worst. Could there have been a mix-up with her NEWT grades? Maybe she hadn't achieved the high results after all and there had been a terrible mistake? Could it affect her job at the Ministry? Was that why Dumbledore was so insistent on seeing her tonight?

Forgetting all about the owl that had now demolished the rest of her sandwich, Charis started buzzing around her little flat, picking up her robes from the floor and getting her boots back on while her heart was racing in her chest and a million of thoughts racing through her mind. And when she stood in the grate, ready to throw the Floo Powder and call out her destination, she actually had to look down to check if she was indeed wearing her robes and that her boots were on the right feet. She was feeling so confused that forgetting to get dressed didn't seem so far-fetched.

As she stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot from her robes, Dumbledore hurried to meet her, his hand stretched out in salutation. He looked very calm.

'Charis! Welcome! Welcome back to Hogwarts!'

Charis walked forwards, a frown of concern on her face. 'Sir!' she blurted out. 'Is everything alright? Your letter sounded extremely urgent!'

'Dear Charis, forgive me,' the old wizard began, secretly pleased that the girl had responded as quickly as he had hoped she would. 'I did not mean to startle you. What I have to discuss with you is indeed urgent, but everything is alright.'

He smiled benignly as he gestured for her to sit.

'Have you had dinner?' he asked conversationally as Charis made herself comfortable on an armchair.

'Yes, I've just grabbed a sandwich,' Charis replied, just now becoming aware that more than half of her dinner had ended up in the owl's tummy. But it didn't matter.

'A sandwich?' Dumbledore exclaimed. 'Now that won't do. Let me send for something from the kitchen. A salad, maybe?'

'Thank you, sir, but I'm fine,' Charis replied, politely but firmly. Yes, she was hungry but doubted that she would be able to eat anything now. And in truth, she very much wanted to know what she had been summoned here for. But she was not rude enough to interrupt the old wizard's display of hospitality.

'A nice toffee then?' Dumbledore picked up a box of Honeydukes finest from his desk. He had obviously been having some himself, judging by the amount of empty wrappers that littered his desk.

Charis eyed the box. She knew she should start eating more healthily. But Honeydukes toffees were really very good.

'Well, maybe one won't hurt,' she decided after a moment and smiled as she took a fat toffee from the proffered box.

'Sugar is like balm for the soul, I always say.' Her former headmaster smiled broadly in response. 'Now, something to drink maybe? Tea?'

'Just water would be good, if that's okay?' Charis was rather thirsty from all the rushing around that evening. Also, holding onto a glass would give her shaking hands something to do.

'Water it is.'

Dumbledore conjured a jug with ice cold water and two glasses.

'How was your first day?' he asked whilst busying himself with pouring the water.

Charis was a bit confused about why the old wizard was asking such seemingly superfluous questions after having pointed out the urgency of this meeting in his letter, but she answered them with good grace anyway.

'It was good, thank you. There is a certainly much to do... I can't really say much more than that, I'm afraid.' She remembered her Unspeakable Vow from earlier and looked up apologetically. 'I'm not allowed to.'

Dumbledore looked at Charis over his half-moon spectacles whilst sending the glass of water over to her with a wave of his hand.

'I understand, of course. I hope the whole situation didn't seem too overwhelming.'

'I'd be lying if I said things weren't a little hectic at the moment, sir,' Charis replied, catching the cold glass carefully. It was slippery with condensation.

'The amount of damage at the Ministry must be tremendous.'

'It was a bit of a shock seeing the damage for myself,' Charis agreed. 'Just thinking that You-Know-Who himself was the cause of it is awful.'

Dumbledore nodded slowly. 'It must be especially hard for you to work at the Department of Mysteries after all that has happened there.'

He gazed at Charis knowingly, and she got the feeling his blue eyes were X-raying her. Unable to hold the old wizard's gaze, she looked down at the desk.

'I did consider whether working at the Ministry might be the wrong thing to do,' she confessed. 'But then I decided that Sirius wouldn't have wanted me to put my life or my job on hold. But yes, I think about him every day...'

She trailed off sadly, not knowing what else to say, and took a sip of the cold water to alleviate the hot lump that had now formed in her throat.

'Your feelings are natural, Charis, and nothing to be ashamed of,' Dumbledore said. 'Sirius was a great man, and it saddens me, too, that we have lost him so early.'

He paused, lacing his fingers together in front of him. 'However, as you said, he wouldn't want any of us to put our work on hold. He would want us to keep on fighting the Dark. And this, Charis, is why I asked you to come here tonight, on such short notice.'

Charis carefully placed her water on desk and looked up at her former headmaster expectantly. She knew that what was coming next was at the heart of the matter and in all likelihood would take her by surprise.

Dumbledore took another sip of his ice cold water and seemed in no hurry whatsoever to continue, even though Charis was now waiting with baited breath.

'Charis, when you visited Grimmauld Place, you met a couple of people there, remember?' he said eventually.

'Yes, sir,' she confirmed.

'They, like Sirius, have dedicated their lives to fighting Voldemort and to setting the Wizarding world free once more,' he continued, seeing Charis flinch at the use of the Dark Lord's name. But he went on regardless. 'They are good men and women, the best I could get, but still, we are in need of new blood; we need people with connections. Every witch or wizard who decides to join our cause is yet another blow to Voldemort. And every piece of information we can gain yet another weapon against him. So I ask you now, outright: Do you want to help us bring Voldemort down, Charis?'

Charis' mouth suddenly went very dry. 'Are you asking me to join the Order of the Phoenix, sir?'

'Indeed I am.' Again, his bright blue eyes seemed to be searching hers like an X-ray, and it was hard to maintain eye contact.

Charis inhaled, a little shocked at the proposition.

'I am asking you, first and foremost, because you are an intelligent, brave young witch, Charis,' Dumbledore explained. 'And you know first-hand what Dark witches and wizards are capable of. You know how important it is to stop them.'

But Charis was still struggling to see just why Dumbledore wanted her to join. 'But, sir, what could I possibly do to help the Order?'

'Ah, there are many things,' Dumbledore explained. 'Every Order member has unique, useful abilities or connections. Every member can provide us with certain information. You, Charis, would be our link to a part of the Ministry no other of us has access to,' he pointed out.

'But... as a trainee Unspeakable...' Charis interjected. 'I am bound by oath not to reveal information. In fact it is impossible for me to.'

Dumbledore, however, was well aware of the charms that Unspeakables were bound by.

'Of course, I am not asking you to spy on your employer, Charis. Far from it,' he clarified. 'I am just hoping that you, having insight in both the Order's business and your own work, could make certain, ah, helpful connections on the information you are privy to.'

'Well, I... I could try, sir,' Charis replied doubtfully. She was by now highly uncomfortable.

'I am not asking you to make your decision tonight, Charis,' Dumbledore went on. 'In fact, I do not want you to make your decision tonight. Sleep on it, think about it.'

Again, the old wizard peered over his spectacles at the young witch in front of him. Just like with Morgana, he was certain that this Star Sister wouldn't turn his offer down either.

'I am honoured you asked me, sir,' Charis replied, plucking up the courage to speak her mind. 'But I'm still not sure if I would be useful to you in any way.'

Dumbledore smiled serenely at this. 'Let me be the judge of that, Charis. If nothing else, I am sure certain people in the Order will appreciate your company.'

Certain people in the Order? Charis couldn't help but blush. She had met some of the Order members, yes, but the only one she really knew – the only one she knew intimately – was Snape. Would he appreciate her company? And just how much did Dumbledore know? Highly embarrassed, Charis once more lowered her gaze.

'I would like to invite you to tea on Sunday,' Dumbledore proposed, 'Just to meet everyone. I do not, however, expect you to have made your decision by then.'

'That would be nice, sir.' Charis said quietly. The thought of seeing Snape again both terrified and excited her in equal measure, and her stomach gave a little flip of anxiety.

'I hope Molly will bake a cake,' Dumbledore went on. 'And Charis, please don't call me sir. It makes me feel so old. My name is Albus.'

Charis smiled. 'That will take some getting used to.'

'Many people say that. It's an unusual name, I am aware of that. You may use Percival or Wulfric or Brian, if you prefer.'

Charis could not help but giggle at this, and temporarily, the feeling of anxiety evaporated. 'No, it's not your name,' she explained. 'Just having to get used to not calling you sir will be strange.'

Now it was Dumbledore's turn to smile. 'And here I was, believing all these years that it was the name Albus people had problems with.'

He studied the young witch for a few moments before continuing. 'You must be tired. The first day in any new job is always draining.'

'It's been a long day,' Charis admitted, fighting the urge to yawn.

'It certainly has. Forgive an old man for making it even more tiresome. I won't keep you any longer. But do come to tea on Sunday. No strings attached, just tea. And cake, I hope.'

Once more, he smiled, and this time his blue eyes twinkled over his half-moon glasses.

'I will, Albus,' Charis promised. 'I'll look forward to meeting everyone.'

And with that, she got up to leave and crossed over to the huge fireplace in order to Floo home. But just before she went to take a handful of Floo Powder, she remembered something.

'Oh, should I presume this invitation is to remain confidential?'

Charis was bursting to tell her best friend Morgana and was hoping that Albus would be able to read between the lines with this question. But the old wizard turned her down.

'Yes, confidential, if you please,' he instructed, knowing perfectly well what Charis meant. But he didn't want her to know that Morgana had already joined the Order. Not yet, anyway.

'The Order runs in secret,' he explained, 'and no matter how tempting it is to share with one's best friend, I am afraid you cannot.'

Charis nodded her understanding, even though it seemed as though this was yet another secret she had to bear. 'Very well, sir... I mean, Albus. I will see you Sunday.'

'Sunday it is.' Dumbledore beamed broadly. 'I will send you an escort.'

Before she broke out into yet another blush, Charis bade her ex-headmaster goodbye and Floo'd home to the sanctuary of her flat, and once she stepped out of her fireplace, her dizziness had little to do with the means of transportation. Instead, it was due to the thrill of expectation running through her.

Certainly, Dumbledore wouldn't send a stranger to escort her. He would send someone he could trust and someone she could trust. It had to be Snape. It just had to be!

With her head still spinning from excitement, Charis made her way to the bedroom, her Ravenclaw mind already calculating the minutes until she would see her dark, brooding Potions master again.