Order Only Private Message to Alice Longbottom

[alt_severus]

I was, sadly, unable to make much headway with Mr Weasley's Obliviation problem. Whomever responsible for altering his memory was skilled enough that I was not able to undo the work, nor able to read around the edges via Legilimency or Penseive to guess as to who had been nearby him immediately prior to the time period in question and thus possibly or likely responsible.

I am more concerned than I was before taking a look at Mr Weasley's mind — the skill shown is fairly rare and suggests someone well practised at the mind-magics; Mr Weasley would not have known he was missing time had external circumstances not conspired to allow him to triangulate.

Mr Weasley continues to describe himself as "spooked", and vows to take extra precautions over the next several weeks. I must suggest a general Order notice to be on alert.

Comments

[alt_severus]

I am afraid I am thinking along the same lines Poppy is, though I would not have said so where Mr Weasley might see. Though I do not know the methods by which the "Council" recruits these days, in the early years it was not uncommon for a potential recruit with no familial connections to be obliviated several times over weeks or months before he was permitted to remember, and only if the previous conversations had proven satisfactory.

If that is the case, I do not think Mr Weasley would make a good choice for infiltration; he is entirely unsuited to the role he would be forced to play. There is little means by which we might prove that to be the case, however, rather than waiting. I did suggest several habits Mr Weasley should adopt to maximise the chance of gaining information — or, in fact, noticing — should he prove to be missing time again; he said his brother had already suggested several additional precautions to take.

If that is not the case, I cannot imagine what else might fit the known facts. I may press Minerva further to see if she is willing or able to share any information more privately.

[alt_alice]

Yes. It wouldn't be surprising to me if he was approached and found to be unsatisfactory.

Minerva, though... why would she be sworn to secrecy over something like that? Is that typical?

It is also worrisome that she would not speak up sooner if she had knowledge that some sort of action would be taken towards Bill. Even in the event of an Unbreakable, there are certainly ways.

You've built a rapport with her, and have had to negotiate similar vows. If you can learn more it would be greatly appreciated.

[alt_severus]

No, you are correct. She has always found ways to tell us the critical things before, and I cannot see a way in which something like that would not be a fact she would go to great lengths to communicate somehow. Which would seem to argue against the thought that Mr Weasley is being recruited. And yet, what else could be Council business that Minerva cannot share with us, concerning Mr Weasley, and yet not related to his activities with the Order?

I mislike this greatly.

There is little more I might do than let her know I am here should she wish to speak with someone; I can no longer stop casually by for a conversation with her when I fear she might need one. Curse that woman for removing Minerva from where she belongs.

[alt_alice]

Indeed. I wonder why her actions aren't seen as more of a threat, given His Greatness's fragile ego.

I also must admit that with the forcible removal and murder of Ms Fleet, she has significantly upped the ante when it comes to the safety of our children.

How has Harry been coping?

[alt_severus]

Magnificently, I must say. He appears to have decided that his fellow students — particularly the halfblooded students — are his to protect, and is using his power and influence to do so as much as possible. For the most part, by rubbing Umbridge's nose in the fact he is a halfblood, and daring her to make comment upon it.

He is growing more and more like Lily every day

[alt_alice]

That's very good to hear. I know he had a difficult time of it last year, and that he has a great deal of pressure put on him.

You must be very proud. And rightly so.

[alt_severus]

Sometimes I wonder whether he will grow to succeed in adulthood despite us all rather than because of us; I believe the pressure we, and fate, are placing upon him pales in insignificance next to the pressure he places upon himself.

He is a remarkably self-possessed young man. Has learned to be, in a far harsher school than most might realise. I fear there is little for which I might take credit; all I have done for him is provide him the truth he cannot find elsewhere. The man he is in the process of becoming is entirely of his own devising, forged in the crucible of his trials out of the raw materials with which he was formed.

It is a subject I have thought of before, and that you must think of often, I suppose: how well parents can be reflected in their children, even in the absence of regular tuition.

Forgive me. I am entirely too maudlin tonight.

[alt_alice]

I know exactly what you mean.

I left Evelyn with Augusta when she was a newborn, and I'm still amazed at how she's grown, and the type of person she's become without any interference from me.

For the longest time, I feared that because they were surrounded by such a toxic environment, my children would grow up thinking of it as the normal way of life despite Augusta. But they're so much stronger than I could have ever imagined.

And these young people at Hogwarts have never known another world, and yet they've all turned away together from a society that has handed them power over others and rewards their superiority. It gives me a great deal of hope, and I can't help but wonder how it came about.

[alt_severus]

You have two children of whom any parent should be exceptionally proud.

And I have wondered the same thing. I have thought several times, recently, that we do them a disservice by referring to them as the "junior auxiliary"; such habit of nomenclature can only encourage us to think of them as though they are an afterthought to the Order and its works. And yet they have proven remarkably resourceful and determined in service to what they believe to be correct.

I cannot help but think of what Dolohov said to Miss Parkinson last week: that he has full faith and confidence in her ability, and that of her peers, to rise to the occasion should they find a cause to which they could commit wholeheartedly. The irony of him having said that to her entirely escapes him, of course, but I am equally convinced of the truth of his statement — and cannot help but think several others of the Order would argue fiercely against the children being given the opportunity to demonstrate that commitment, while our opponents have repeatedly demonstrated that have no such compunctions.

I know that you, and the other parents in the Order, believe the children should be sheltered from such concerns. And I do not believe that simply being treated as children, rather than as the autonomous young adults they inevitably are beginning to see themselves as, would suffice to shake them from that commitment to their ideals enough for us to lose them to the monstrosity that is the Dark Lord and all He represents — not when so many of them have seen firsthand the price that monstrosity devours as tribute. But though I rarely speak of it, I was only slightly older than they when I made the most grievous mistake of my life. And I did so in no small part because the Dark Lord and His faithful treated me as someone worthy of respect, whose skills were to be valued, who was to be accorded the courtesy of being taken seriously.

I do not mean to compare our situations, nor to suggest the children are at risk for turning to the Dark Lord's service if the Order does not take them seriously enough. Not wholly. But I see these children regularly; I have worked with many of them directly; I have seen their secret fears and their innermost determination and the thoughts they do not allow themselves to dwell upon. They are not children, Alice. None of them are; no child raised in the Protectorate can afford to remain wholly innocent for long. We will continue to do them a disservice if we think only of how we are to shelter them — and I do not believe they will content themselves to remain thus sheltered for long.

I warned you that I was maudlin tonight.

[alt_alice]

And that's the very heart of the matter, isn't it?

For no matter how old they become, Neville and Evelyn will always be my children, and a rather large part of me will always find it difficult to not do everything within my power to keep them safe from every harm.

I agree with you that the way we've pushed away these young men and women in the past has been inexcusable -- to panic at what they've sorted out while at the same time denying them security measures or providing open communication has done them a great disservice.

You know how hard Frank and I lobbied for Neville's full inclusion in the Order, and the respect I hold for Hermione. Two young men who have lived under my roof and eaten at my table and trained with me for nearly two years have left safety and comfort this past week to join the ranks of Davidson's army.

I suppose what I'm saying is that despite my fear, I can see how we must address these issues seriously, and will not shrink away. If these young people will fight, we must arm them as best as we can, and make sure they have a place among us and the respect they deserve.

You've given me quite a lot to think about, as you tend to. If this is what your being a bit maudlin can do, I suggest you spend more time staying up late and dwelling on the past.