Chapter 46: The Second-Generation Phoenix

Even Sherlock Forester, who was usually quite level-headed, felt completely dumbfounded, nearly choking on his own shock as he swallowed heavily. However, before he could articulate a proper response, Tonks jumped in, quickly clearing things up.

"Sherlock, surely you don't think I confessed to you as myself? There's no way I could have made such an oversight!" she expressed earnestly.

"You see, it was actually Penny, who happens to be my dorm-mate, who has been harboring a secret adoration for Forester. Unfortunately, she's far too timid to express these feelings herself, so she enlisted my help. She asked me to use my skills of transformation to become her and confess in her stead. Her plan was simple, if he accepted, she would take the reins from there. If he rejected the confession, she would remain unscathed, and it would be me taking the hit, thus saving her from potential devastation."

With that, the gathered crowd promptly snapped out of their stunned expressions, returning to the moment at hand. Kingsley, with a gleam of interest sparkling in his eye, couldn't resist asking.

"So, what was Sherlock's response to this confession?"

All eyes swiveled in Sherlock's direction, but he was so taken aback that he could only manage to shake his head in bewilderment.

"To be quite honest, I can't recall."

"What! How heartless of you. Even though it wasn't technically me that was confessing, it was still my first time professing affection for someone and you've disregarded it entirely!" Tonks feigned dismay, although it was clear that she was simply playing along.

"When you turned me down, I put on a real show – dramatically covered my face and ran away pretending to cry, secretly hoping you might chase after me."

Even Bill couldn't resist poking fun. "During his school years, Sherlock was something of a heartthrob, each term he would receive numerous love letters. Word of his admirers even reached my ears, and I was two years his senior!"

"But it's concerning that even at 20, he still hasn't declared a girlfriend." Kingsley observed with genuine worry. "Sherlock, would you like me to introduce you to a few ladies from the Ministry? There are quite a few exceptional ones."

Sherlock was suddenly yanked back into a conversation only aunties and grandmas would steer. With an inward roll of his eyes, he firmly shot the idea down.

"Right now, relationships aren't my priority. My goal is to become an effective and impactful professor at Hogwarts."

Just as Kingsley was about to launch into another persuasive attempt, the topic was swiftly changed by Mrs. Weasley. Dinner was ready, and it was time to sit down and eat.

The wizards quickly secured their spots around the large, formidable-looking table, with Dumbledore rightfully taking the head of the table. He was, after all, not only the oldest but the most distinguished individual in attendance.

To Dumbledore's left sat the venerable Professor McGonagall, and Sherlock was about to squeeze into the corner with Bill at the far end of the table when Dumbledore abruptly snagged his arm, directing him towards the chair on his right.

"Please, Sherlock, sit here."

Sherlock disliked drawing undue attention to himself, especially in front of such a sizeable gathering of people. But it wasn't in him to refuse Dumbledore. And thus rescinding, he took the offered seat.

The dinner consisted of roughly two to three dozen wizards. As Dumbledore had discussed previously, these wizards hailed from various professions and were mainly middle-aged. Only a small proportion of the crowd was made up of the elderly or young.

Ever since learning that the original host's mother was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, Sherlock had devoted a considerable amount of time researching the organization's past activities.

It wasn't difficult to understand why this group, established over twenty years ago, had comparatively few elderly members.

The majority of its initial members had tragically perished in the first wizarding war, the war of the seventies against Voldemort.

Young individuals, who were shielded during those dangerous times, matured to form the backbone of today's society, like Kingsley, for example.

In addition, due to a decade of the Order going incognito, their workforce saw very few young arrivals. Recruits were generally absorbed internally, for example, the Weasleys intended to welcome their eldest son, Bill, to the Order. Tonks herself had a family connection, her mother, Andromeda Tonks, was an ally of the Order.

As for Sherlock, he had discerned that the original host's mother was likely part of the Order prior to her tragic demise. Otherwise, why would the Weasley couple, Professor McGonagall, Moody, and Kingsley - all first-generation Order members - be so invested in him.

Thus, those now joining the Order mainly consisted of the second generation offspring, making it a challenge to extend their reach externally.

However, this was understandable, as their main objective was to avoid setting alarm bells ringing among the Ministry's politicians.

Naturally, the two dozen wizards present were not an exhaustive representation of the Order's current membership, as many more were unable to attend.

Once everyone was seated, Dumbledore surveyed the room, his eyes exuding warmth as a soft smile graced his face.

"I am joyous to see all of you here today, a testament that you've had a decent year. What brings me even greater pleasure is welcoming new faces."

There were no elaborate speeches. Instead, a simple, sincere sentiment that coaxed mirth from every wizard present.

Dinner conversation flowed effortlessly. Some were professional adventurers who spent a year journeying across the Eurasian continent, regaling the table with entertaining tales from different places.

Others were proprietors of magical item shops located in Diagon Alley, discussing the intriguing magical novelties that wizards had brought to life over the year.

The dinner progressed in a congenial atmosphere, allowing Sherlock to understand that these individuals were united not for personal gain or status, but rather a shared cause, a common objective.

The dinner was moving along quite amiably when a tiny wizard, Dedalus Diggle, suddenly appealed to Dumbledore.

"I realize the importance of bringing in new recruits, but doesn't Sherlock Forester's inclusion contradict our Oath of Loyalty? What do you say, Dumbledore?"

Diggle happened to be one of the earliest Order members and one of the limited number of elders in attendance.

As soon as he spoke, the jovial chattering of the wizards ceased immediately, plunging the room into an uneasy silence. The first-generation Order members, all too familiar with the impending predicament, swiveled their heads to look at Dumbledore, none-too-subtly expressing a shared concern.

Sherlock, the focus of this unexpected conversation, sat still and stoic, his face a mask of impassiveness.

As he was about to voice his question demanding to know why he couldn't join the Order, Dumbledore held up his hand, effectively silencing any grand protest he may have planned.

Dumbledore's face was serene, his tone uncharacteristically grave, as he responded.

"I understand your reservations, given the oath we uphold. However, I believe it is only fair that we respect the opinion of Sherlock."