I'm just . . . gonna be . . . quiet and unnoticeable so that you will try to kill me less . . .

*meekly* Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

CHAPTER 8: Oh-so-pure Innocent Child Soul

Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.
-Edna St. Vincent Millay

"I want to join the Order of the Phoenix."

Albus Dumbledore looked up from the Daily Prophet to look at Eragon Bromsson, who stood in front of the closed door of the office. He was dressed in a simple black T-shirt and rugged jeans today, his hair side-swept with envious elegance. If Albus hadn't known any better, he would've mistaken him for a simple teenage Muggle.

But the Rider's eyes were filled with far too much pain and experience for him to be so . . . mundane. He was gazing at Albus with an air of a true leader.

"What?"

Albus had tried to keep the surprise from his voice and he'd succeeded – but only partially.

Eragon crossed his arms. "You heard me," he said, his voice utterly calm.

Albus put down the Prophet and made sure that the edges and corners were properly straightened before he looked back at the younger man. "Eragon, you must understand that the Order is only for –"

The Rider waved his hand. "For full-age people and those who have finished their education, I know," he said, a little tersely. "Last I checked, I fulfil both of those conditions."

"Ah." Albus took off his glasses and put them down on his table delicately. "And I suppose Saphira knows about this?"

"She does."

"And she agrees?"

"She doesn't like it, but she accepts it and knows it's necessary, therefore she agrees."

"And why, pray tell, do you want to join the order?" asked Albus, not unkindly, as he gestured for the youth to sit down opposite of him. "This isn't your fight, much less your world."

Eragon sat down, his intense eyes trained on Albus. He gave a one-shoulder shrug. "I've been mulling over the fact that you're lacking members since I saw that in your memories. And it bothers me that here I am, with practically nothing to do, while the Order's members are tearing themselves apart to fulfill all that is necessary. It doesn't seem right."

Albus leaned back in his chair, delicately clasping his fingers in his lap. "It didn't seem right to the Weasely twins either and they're full adults – like you. Matter of fact, they are your age. But they weren't allowed to join." He returned Eragon's stare. "Why should you be?"

Eragon appeared unbothered. "I have something they don't – experience. I have fought in a war and won. I have been injured many times and I have seen people die – some of them close to me. I have killed people – it's not something I am proud of or something I like to look back upon, but it is a fact." His mouth had formed a thin line and his fists clenched by his side. "As it is a fact that you need more members."

Albus tipped his head, sadly forced to concede. "You're not wrong." When the youth opened his mouth to answer, the Headmaster quickly continued, "But you're young, Eragon, and I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened to you while working for the Order. Especially since we have to get you back to your world – Alagaësia, is it? – alive and well."

Eragon flinched slightly, but when he spoke, his voice was carefully neutral. "Saphira and I made the decision to stay here, but I assure you that I am looking for ways to return ho—back, that is. And even if we don't, there are people more than equipped to take our places." Mixed emotions danced behind his orbs. "As for the safety issue, I think I have that covered better than all of your Order combined." He leaned back and tipped his head to the side. "How many dragons have you got on your side, exactly?"

Albus sighed. "Point taken."

Both of their heads turned to Fawkes when the Phoenix trilled softly and gave Albus a look, making the Headmaster sigh.

"Very well," he said as his head bowed slightly in defeat. "I will take you to the meeting. However, that does not mean that you are allowed to join the Order – at least most of the Order has to agree on that."

Eragon nodded, looking pleased. "Fair enough. When do we leave?"

"In a couple hours."

I don't like it, said Saphira, her tongue flicking out of her mouth as she flew slowly.

I know, replied Eragon, his fingers moving over her scales deftly in comfort. I don't either, but you can't just merrily fly into the middle of London.

Something between amusement and irritation colored her thoughts. Watch me.

They were flying above Hogwarts, thousands of feet above the great castle, so that no one could see them. (Even if someone did, they could mistake them for a large bird.) The air up here was fresh and cool – to the point of being downright cold – but Eragon was used to it by now. He'd simply said a few words in Ancient language to keep himself warm.

It was almost night now, the dusk already falling upon the earth and coloring the sky in colors of dark blue, pink and light orange. The dim light reflected on Saphira's scales and made the sapphire blue darker and richer.

Saphira opened her jaws slightly and snapped them back shut. How does this Apparating – she said the word uncertainly – even work?

Eragon shrugged. Beats me, he mumbled. Dumbledore wasn't very specific – but then again, he rarely is.

And while you're in that London, I have to stay here, not knowing if you are alright or not? She snorted – somewhat angrily. It's like choosing the new dwarf king all over again.

Eragon chuckled. I have a hard time imagining Nasuada as Dumbledore, he remarked amusedly. Don't you?

Saphira puffed. If you weren't my Rider, I would've eaten you a long time ago, she retorted. You're annoying.

I do try.

She tucked her wings to her body and propelled herself downward, waiting just a second for Eragon to turn them invisible. Then she plummeted down, the wind rushing around them and howling in their ears like a song of the nature.

There are others who don't have inhibitions like me. Don't try too hard.

Eragon stumbled forward as soon as his feet hit solid ground and shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the ringing in his ears. The Apparition was an awful experience – one he never wanted to experience again, but knew he would have to repeat again soon.

The ringing in his ears had dulled but not stopped. He tapped them gently, trying to ignore the emptiness in his mind where Saphira's absence was like a gaping black hole.

Their separation had been sudden, abrupt, like a swipe of a blade severing a rope, but no less painful.

"Feel free to throw up," said Dumbledore, who was standing a few paces behind them. He looked perfectly undisturbed, as if he were used to being stuffed an inch-wide tube every day – but he probably was, anyhow. He had somehow sucked the light out of every lamp on the street and his face was half-shadowed. "It is not unusual for the first time."

Eragon shook his head and straightened his back. "I'll be fine." He closed his eyes for a second and let his heart rate slow down. "I've been through worse."

A hint of a sad smile played around Dumbledore's mouth. "I have no doubt." He nodded towards the houses in front of him and Eragon turned to look at it.

The houses along the street were grim, unwelcoming-looking ageing places with broken windows and dulled paint that seemed almost non-existent, even to Eragon's keen eyes. The number twelve in front of them – Eragon could see it since Dumbledore had let him know of its location minutes before – was no more friendly-looking. In fact, it seemed even eerier than the others.

"It's lovely," he said dryly.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Admittedly, it's not the friendliest of places, but it is the safest," he said. "No one uninvited can get inside." He gestured to the house. "Shall we?"

Before either of them could move forward there was another sound of Apparition coming from a few yards to their left and they whirled to face the newcomer, Eragon's hand going to the dagger at his belt.

A slim female figure stood there, clad in a long dark blue robe. She had light pink hair and twinkling dark eyes, her face pale and heart-shaped. She looked a few years older than Eragon, being 25 at most.

She blinked. "Do you have to point that dagger at me?" she asked. "It's making me nervous."

It was Eragon's turn to blink. "What?"

She pointed at the dagger in Eragon's hand. "The dagger," she explained slowly. "In your hand."

"Oh." Eragon hurriedly stashed the dagger back in his belt, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

There was a chuckle from Dumbledore. "Eragon," he said, gesturing to the young woman, "this is Nymphadora Tonks, but she prefers to be called –"

Nymphadora shook his hand. "Tonks," she said enthusiastically. "Just Tonks." She shuddered. "I hate my name."

Eragon grinned. "I'm Eragon Bromsson."

Tonks easily mirrored his grin. "So I've heard," she said. "Crashing in the middle of Forbidden Forest? Wicked entrance."

Eragon had a feeling they would be good friends.

Sirius sat at the kitchen table of the Grimmauld Place, his fingers drumming against the wood as he, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Moody, Shacklebolt, Remus, Snape and a few of other Order members waited for the remaining members of the Order to arrive.

Molly and Arthur, along with Bill, were talking in hushed voices while Moody was grumbling something about punctuality and the least the others could've done was show up on time. Shacklebolt was being his usual calm self, just sitting at the table and looking around. Remus, too, appeared unbothered as he idly read the Daily Prophet that was probably again – or rather, still – sprouting nonsense about Harry and Dumbledore. Snape was being his usual Snivellus-y self, frowning deeply. The others were sitting around the room, quietly waiting.

Sirius heard the front door open and the sound of muffled voices and he leaped to his feet, needing something to do, even if that something was only greeting the others. He ran up the narrow stairs and opened the door to the hallway. Three figures, two male and one female, were standing there.

Tonks, the only female in the group, was giggling softly, looking up at the male standing next to her and Dumbledore. "You're joking," she said flatly. "I don't believe you. You did not walk in the girls' bathroom and meet the Moaning Myrtle on your first day."

"I did," answered the male. He was tall and lean with pale skin and brown hair. His features, though holding the barest hints of boyishness, were clean and slanting, giving him an air of beauty and confidence one might expect of a pureblood. His eyes were brown and deep, flicking over his surroundings uncertainly. Sirius frowned. Dumbledore had said he was bringing another candidate, but Sirius hadn't expected someone so . . . young. "I really did." The boy grimaced. "She wouldn't let me get out either."

Tonks giggled again. "Sounds like Myrtle."

The boy scratched his nose awkwardly. "I wouldn't know."

Dumbledore chuckled as well, steering the younger people along the hallway. "Believe me, it really does."

Tonks and the boy started forward, but Tonks, who was looking up at the brown-haired youth wasn't looking where she was walking and she strode directly toward the troll-leg umbrella stand.

Sirius moved forward. "Tonks, watch out!"

It was too late. Tonks stumbled over the umbrella stand and the ugly thing swayed for a couple moments. Then it fell over and hit the ground with a resounding crash. There were a few seconds of blissful silence and then –

"SCUM! HALF-BREEDS! MUDBLOODS! IN MY HOUSE! BEGONE! HOW DARE YOU TAINT THE HOSUE OF MY FATH—"

She got no further than that. The boy's brown eyes had widened and he turned so quickly it was almost invisible to the naked eye. His hand raised in a flash and he barked out a startled word. Sirius's mother's portrait could no longer be heard even if the woman's mouth was still opening.

The boy looked stunned, if his gaping mouth and tensed shoulders were anything to go by. He turned to Dumbledore with a jerking movement. "Are screaming portraits a decoration here?" he asked, his voice sharp.

Dumbledore looked just as surprised as him, probably not from the portrait, but from the boy's quick reaction – altogether it had probably lasted for about two seconds.

"Wow," Sirius said, only vaguely registering the others' presence behind him. "You have got to teach me how to do that."

The boy's head swiveled to face Sirius. Blood had disappeared from his face and his cheeks were pale again, but his expression was still startled. Up close, Sirius could see that the boy really wasn't that young. His cheeks were just a tad too prominent and his eyes a bit too intense, too haunted. Sirius knew the look in those eyes – he saw it every time he looked in Remus's eyes, or Moody's or Shacklebolt's. Hell, he saw it every time he looked in a mirror – it was the look of people who had fought in a war.

The boy straightened and schooled his expression in calmness. "You're Sirius Black," he stated.

However Sirius had expected him to react – screaming and pulling out his wand, pointing it at Sirius's chest; running away in the opposite direction; fainting – it was not it. The boy had said it so coolly it was almost comical compared to his previous state.

"The falsely accused one," the boy continued, letting his arm fall back to his side.

"Falsely accused," mocked Snape in his silkily annoying voice, "is an exaggeration." He directed his dark gaze to Dumbledore. "What is he doing here?" he asked with a sneer – the boy's presence obviously didn't sit well with him.

Dumbledore appeared unbothered. "He wanted in the Order and I couldn't deny his arguments."

"And what were those arguments?" Snape sneered again – or he had never stopped, whatever. "That he can fight?"

The boy raised a brow. "I can, actually," he said coolly. "Also, I have completed my education and I am an adult," he continued. "Do you want me to go on?"

"That's enough, Severus, Eragon." Dumbledore stepped in-between the two men and gestured toward the stairwell that led to the kitchen. "We can discuss Eragon's matter in the kitchen."

Eragon mumbled something that sounded like, "Saphira would have a lot to say right now," under his breath, but obediently followed Sirius and the others in the kitchen.

When they came there, everyone sat down on a free seat and Eragon followed their lead, sitting right across from Sirius and in-between Tonks and Bill. He put his right hand on the table, pale fingers drumming quietly against the wood.

Dumbledore sat down at the head of the table. "So, this is Eragon Bromsson. He recently, ah, arrived under some very interesting circumstances – I don't know if you've heard."

Oh, Sirius'd definitely heard. Crashing amidst the Forbidden Forest? The kid had style.

"However," Dumbledore continued, shooting Sirius who had opened his mouth a look. "That is not the important matter at this meeting. What is important is that Eragon wishes to join the Order."

"No," Molly said. "Absolutely not."

Everyone turned to her, Eragon arching his eyebrows slightly. "Why not?" he asked, his accent smooth and unusual.

Molly fixed him with one of her I'm-a-mother-so-don't-talk-like-that-to-me look. "How old are you?"

His chin lifted. "Seventeen."

"And I suppose you're turning eighteen next year, not this one?"

"That would be correct."

"You cannot be in the Order." Molly sounded and looked adamant. "You're just a child."

"I'm not a child." He said it with a sort of firmness Sirius didn't dare question.

"Your age suggest otherwise," put in Snape, oh-so-helpfully.

Eragon tipped his head and narrowed his eyes. "Is this a poor attempt to fix the mistake you made upon joining another group when you were my age or can you not stand to be around me any more than necessary since I am one of the rare ones that knows of your past and agenda?" he asked.

Snape paled and did not answer.

Eragon turned to the rest of them, his eyes assessing them before, at last, focusing on Molly. "If you're worried that the war I'm attempting to get myself into will leave a stain on my oh-so-pure innocent child soul, don't be," he said gravely. "I've been through my fair share of battles and the worst the Order has to offer right now is mediocre in my books – if that." He paused. "Let me help. I know you're trying to protect your children, siblings, godchildren – family and friends in general and I know how that feels. I know how it is to wonder what will happen to those you care about if you get hurt or – fate forbid – die.

"So, please, let me help. I have a few assets Death Eaters won't see coming," he finished.

There was only silence for a while.

Then, slowly, softly, and with great sorrow in his eyes as he looked at the youth, Remus said, "All those in favor of Eragon joining the order, raise your hand." He met his gaze with Eragon's as he slowly raised his hand. The youth inclined his head at him.

Sirius followed his old friend's lead without a moment's hesitation. He didn't know exactly why, but Eragon reminded him of himself slightly. Perhaps because of the need to fight, to do something – it rolled off the youth in waves – he'd felt when he'd wanted to join the Order over a decade and a half ago.

And then, one by one, most of the Order raised their hands – Dumbledore, Shacklebolt, Moody, Bill, Tonks and others – and Eragon nodded to each one of them.

Sirius looked around. Only Molly, Snape and Arthur (ever the loyal husband) kept their hands down.

Dumbledore clasped his hands in front of him. "So it's settled." He turned to Eragon and inclined his head. "Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Eragon Bromsson."

Harry looked up from the toast he had been buttering when Eragon slid onto the bench opposite of him and reached for a toast himself.

Harry raised his eyebrows at him. They'd formed a tentative friendship after their talk in the Astronomy Tower and Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, spent most of his free time – which was anytime he wasn't in class, having a Quidditch practice or doing homework – showing the Rider around Hogwarts. When they none of the three had time or was too exhausted, the twins and Ginny more-than-gladly took over.

However, the Rider, along with Dumbledore, had been gone the whole previous day and his lack of presence hadn't been missed by Harry – or half the Hogwarts, which, unfortunately, included the High Inquisitor herself as well.

"Where have you been?" Ron asked Eragon around a mouthful of bread, eggs and bacon.

Eragon smiled angelically. "Here and there," he said and bit into his toast.

Fred and George, who were sat just a couple of seats down the bench from Harry, perked up. "Ooh, a vague answer," said George, perching his chin on his hand. "Are you hiding something from us, Mr. Bromsson?"

Eragon snorted. "I pity the man who hides anything from you two." He glanced down the table to Ginny, who was talking animatedly with a couple of her classmates. "Or your sister, for that matter."

The twins nodded approvingly. "That is a very wise way of thinking and I recommend you live by it," said Fred and gave the Rider an impish grin. "But seriously though, where were you?"

"Dumbledore took me around London," said Eragon. He raised his goblet at Harry. "Snuffles says 'hi' by the way."

Hermione's spoon stopped halfway to her mouth, Harry's juice-filled goblet slipped out of his hand, Ron choked on his food, George elbow slid off the table, swearing profusely, and Fred knocked over his plate of eggs.

Eragon's mouth twitched in amusement and he took a deep sip from his goblet.

"Are you serious?" George gaped. "He took you to the – there?"

"I also got to see London," Eragon said. "It is very lovely at night." He slapped the coughing Ron on the back a few times as he spoke.

Fred leaned forward with interest. "So? What happened?"

Eragon shrugged nonchalantly. "I got in."

Ron fell into another coughing fit, Hermione's spoon fell into her cereal, Harry nearly choked on his own saliva and the twins started protesting in unison. But before any of them could say anything—

"Hem, hem," came from right behind them.

Harry froze, along with his friends. Only Eragon remained relaxed—of course, with that superior senses of his he must've known she was coming since she'd got up from the teachers' table—and he bowed his head at Umbridge respectfully—or so it seemed. Harry noticed the slight distasteful curl of his lip.

"Professor Umbridge," he greeted pleasantly. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

She didn't bother with a greeting. "You got in where, Mr. Bromsson?" she asked instead.

"Headmaster's office," Eragon lied smoothly, without missing a beat. "It took me ages before I remembered the password."

"Did it now?" Umbridge's voice turned a shade sweeter. "And where were you and the Headmaster the whole day yesterday?"

Eragon grinned with child-like vigor. "We went sightseeing," he answered. "London is beautiful."

"Really? I checked at the Leaky Cauldron and no one remembered seeing you—either of you—walk through there."

"I cared more for the Muggle parts of the city."

Seeing as she couldn't seem to get him at his lie, Umbridge changed tactics. "As the High Inquisitor, I must be informed of every resident of this castle—student or staff—leaving the grounds and correct me if I'm wrong, but neither of you did that. You must be punished for that." She opened her mouth to continue, but seemingly out of thin air, Dumbledore appeared at her side.

"I'm afraid Eragon is not at all at fault here, Dolores," he said calmly. "He didn't know. You can only punish me."

Umbridge looked as if she'd swallowed something sour and Eragon, the little cheek, had the audacity to grin at her.

Harry could almost hear Saphira reprimanding her Rider.

As Eragon strolled into the Headmaster's office later that day, he found Dumbledore reading the Daily Prophet, his face unusually drawn.

"Still sprouting that nonsense about you and Harry?" Eragon asked, casually leaning against a wall.

Dumbledore raised his head, momentary surprise flashing across his features. "How do you get in here so quietly?" he said.

Eragon's mouth twitched, amused and more-than-a-little smug over the fact he'd scared Dumbledore. "Hunter's stealth."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment on his momentary slip of mentioning his past.

Eragon straightened. "Anyway," he said, "you wanted to see me?"

He'd been learning—more like bemoaning the fact that he had to learn—Norwegian when an out-of-breath Kimly had appeared by his side and nearly scared him out of his wits. He'd literally jumped out of his chair and Saphira, who'd been sleeping, had laughed herself hoarse. Kimly, with whom his relationship had immensely improved over the past weeks, had rushed to apologize, but it had been blatantly obvious she was holding back a smile. When Eragon had told her that she could laugh if she wanted, she'd begun chuckling but ended up laughing nearly as hard as Saphira.

After they were done, Eragon stared at them, but had listened to Kimly's message and had left in a moderate hurry, making sure to flick Saphira's nostril on the way out.

The headmaster nodded and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. Eragon sat down immediately. "The Order wanted to give you a first mission," he said evenly and Eragon perked up. He continued, "Nothing huge, just something to start making sure you're reliable."

The Rider nodded in understanding. "Okay."

"As you probably know, our infamous trio has always been a bit on adventurous side," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "With Dolores hovering over them, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if they tried something on upcoming Hogsmeade weekend." He pressed his fingertips together. "All we ask is to keep an eye on them—on Harry, especially. And not just in Hogsmeade. Make sure they don't get in too much trouble here too."

Saphira snorted. You sure are asking the right person to keep them out of trouble, she mocked lightly.

Eragon sent her a mock-offended face and batted her laughter away with a grumble.

Corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched upward. "I have faith in your Rider, Saphira," he said and he sounded sincere.

Eragon grinned at him.

So, Eragon's in the Order? Pretty cool, right?

Okay, okay, you can stop glaring. I'll start working on the next chapter first thing after all the obligatory tomorrow.

Anyhow, my life's been a bit of a shock lately (past month, not before so I only have excuse for past month). My personall life's been a rollercoaster (a small one, but a rollercoaster nonetheless) so I'm more than glad to return to the fictional world(s).

So, if you haven't noticed, I changed my name, but I'm keeping my initials cause I like them. Fight me. Also, I've decided that I don't need a beta reader since I don't want to burden anyone and I think-I think I can manage on my own. But thank you to all who offered.

And one other thing: I've read a lot of books lately (namely Throne of Glass series and ACOTAR trilogy) that include a lot of sassy characters so forgive me if either one of mine gets excessively snarky.

Anyway, the answers to your questions:

Pkmntrainereragon124: You beautiful, beautiful soul that has unrelenting love for this story and has taken on the role of my personal alarm clock, I thank you for everything.

SaviourUnleashed: I hope you didn't die this time! I like the idea of Eragon joking around so you can expect more of that.

Cynder2013: At one point, I did try to learn it, but it took me six months to update this story? Do I look like a very unlazy person?

Zanondalf1992: Thank you :) Probably not, but I'll think about it.

Ky111: Thanks :)Yes, Eragon could easily face off Voldemort, especially with Saphira by his side, but I want Harry to do the job. We'll se about going home ;)

Sierra Shadow Nightingale: Thank you :)

Zekrom1010101010: Perhaps it was a human part of him coming alive again or maybe it was a vision ;) He is learning Norwegian, not Norse. Thanks though

vrangrmalmrvaupna: (I hope I wrote that right) Hahahha

Guest: Omg, she would freaking FLIP!

Peyton: He was sitting there cause he was homesick and had some things to think about. Perhaps he will join it and for the rest, you'll have to see.

DrBurn: Thank you for everything (the compliment, offer to beta and calculating Eragon's birthdate). Regarding the last matter, I came to a similar conclusion. I'm still quite set on keeping Arya in Alagaësia, yes.

tiffywiffyfluffykitty: Thank you. Of course they do, I couldn't get in way of their destiny now, could I?

Falcondoom45, An Anonymoose, , ThatOneFangirlWithNoLife: Thank you

Night Blaze-Bringer of Harmony: Oh, Eragon and Saphira have a lot to say to her, don't worry. I do too. Regarding the request, sorry

Carnivore Does: Omg, yes, that would be great, thank you! I'll PM when I need you, okay?

, crashingthroughtime, sprtgln: Thank you and there you go

So, in future chapters I'll be answering by PM and not in chapters, just so you know.

With love,

EA4E