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These notes are intended to demonstrate the range of capabilities associated with a novel wizarding inventions. They are the exclusive property of Gideon Prewett, and are not intended for public distribution. If you believe you have come across these in error, please owl Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts School, for appropriate memory modifications. This parchment may have been enchanted, and any attempt to reproduce its contents or transmit them to enemies will be immediately met with punishment that is as creative as it is harsh.
Meetings of the Order of the Phoenix, take one.
No-nonsense Scotswoman Minerva McGonagall, forty-four, was all business as she presented her update on decryption technologies and interception of dark propaganda. McGonagall claimed that dark witches and wizards may be forced to resort to even more ludicrous methods of communication if they happen to realize that she has successfully been translating their secret communications for some time, an achievement modestly downplayed by the witch as she glanced around the lavishly-decorated headquarters, glancing for any misplaced equipment that might betray privy secrets.
Restless Auror Alastor Moody, attempting to adjust to the bright lights of the magical candles scattered about, rotated his newly-created eye as he echoed McGonagall's call for secrecy. Observing, in every direction, the conservative robes and practical fashions of his comrades, he expressed suspicion at the introduction of newfangled technologies into secure meetings and prevailed upon the presiding warlock to confiscate them until such time as was more prudent.
Meetings of the Order of the Phoenix, take two.
In the absence of misshapen and less-than-sorely-missed curmudgeon Alastor Moody, currently stuck doing the business of an incompetent and obstructive Ministry, a younger generation of bright-eyed school leavers were introduced into the “Order of the Phoenix.” Also absent from these ceremonies were any particular induction rituals, with purple-bedecked Albus Dumbledore preferring to trust in the simple bonds of friendship.
Gathered in this crowd were accomplished redhead Lily Evans, eighteen, reformed athlete James Potter, eighteen, disowned heir Sirius Black, eighteen, height-challenged brunet Peter Pettigrew, seventeen, and sickly swot Remus Lupin, eighteen. Many chose to sport Muggle garb in solidarity with their persecuted comrades, or for reasons of style; Black donned a jacket that appeared to be a hideous form of synthetic dragon skin, while Evans preferred a more practical purse than some of the beguilingly-small handbags currently in fashion. Potter, for his part, frequently leaned back on his chair to glance around the room, wondering whether the charitable hosts had threatened his playful monopoly on enchanted parchments. Upon being informed that they had not, he also wanted to confiscate their ingenious quill and—
Meetings of the Order of the Phoenix, take three.
Gregarious twins Fabian and Gideon Prewett, once again generous enough to lend their charming home for the benefit of their allies, played host to the motley crew assembled for the benefit of humanity. Gideon's ever-popular desserts impressed even the most cynical of warriors.
The announcement of James and Lily Potter's recent nuptials delighted the assembled crowd, with only a few dishonorable exceptions; Peter Pettigrew seemed regretful to have not been invited, humbly bemoaning his solitude into a fresh scone. Remus Lupin, also not in attendance, took this with good humor, but madly gesticulated that Sirius Black's synthetic dragon skin was unbecoming of a best man, spraying crumbs throughout the room as he flapped his hands like a lunatic. Lupin was later seen appealing to Wizengamot-trained arbiter Albus Dumbledore, who refused to lend credence to his argument.
Dumbledore stressed the need for allies among the non-human community, mentioning his concerns that Agatha Drearly, post-vital author of Cooking for Ghastly Spirits and other Time-Saving Tricks could be used as a rallying point among disaffected youths looking for avant-garde icons. While Madam Drearly's connections to practitioners of the Dark Arts are at best circumstantial, given that her last remaining immediate family members perished several centuries ago, Dumbledore decided further caution was required. Furthermore, envoys to giant communities ought to offer them a token of wizarding goodwill, such as brand-new magical artifacts. Whereupon—
Meetings of the Order of the Phoenix, take four.
Dashing newlywed James Potter, eighteen, valiantly risked the safety of a priceless family heirloom to abet his revered comrades-in-arms, Fabian and Gideon Prewett, in their noble attempt at secrecy. Revered crackpot Albus Dumbledore tossed around speculation that recent strife in the Muggle world was due to the work of Death Eaters subtly influencing the British climate. Expert Muggle-born Lily Potter protested that, while the recent appearance of a man misguided enough to wed Petunia Evans might well have been the work of improbable forces, the economic malaise was not beyond the normal ranges of Muggle experience. Potter noted that, while the forces of stagflation may have seemed negative to economic observers, he would be happy to inflate a stag upon command, to surprisingly little reaction.
Disappointingly, Potter was prevailed upon not to bring such treasures to future meetings, as they entrance Dumbledore and divert his considerable brainpower from necessary purposes, such as calculating the shortest distance as the owl flies to the nearest supply of lemon drops.
Meetings of the Order of the Phoenix, take five.
“Behold; we have successfully pioneered the art of elaborate but unquestionably genuine dictation-taking, rather than mere summary!” enthused peerless inventor Gideon Prewett.
“Indeed, this impressive leap forward is a credit to our skills and talents!” concurred his brother and fellow innovator, Fabian, from the confines of the house they heroically donate to the forces of right.
“Cheers!” said Gideon, filling two glasses with Firewhiskey and attempting to pass one to Fabian, showing remarkable agility given the multitude of candles filling the room.
“Cheers,” Fabian returned, clinking his glass together while impressively not immolating the surroundings.
“I say,” Gideon mused, “it does get a bit cramped here, on occasion, hosting all these sundry sorcerers.”
“Have you considered asking them to relocate? Spread out a bit, don't always congregate on the same spot. For security measures, you know.”
“Oh, I couldn't possibly ask such a favor of Dumbledore. We ought to save up our goodwill, you know, so we're not sent on any dreadful missions.”
“But supposing those would give us a chance to do something properly heroic?”
“In either case, have you considered moving out to more spacious environs?”
“If we had the Galleons for it, then yes, perhaps.”
“What if we were to sell the patent rights to this splendid invention of ours to a more well-funded wizarding institution?”
“Like the ones whose mediocrity has allowed bursts of terror to engulf the magical world?”
“I was thinking one from which we expect mediocrity. That couldn't do much damage with it.”
“And that needs to take notes.”
“We'll call it a Rapid-Response Recorder.”
“How about a Quick-Quotes Quill?”
“Nah, that'll never catch on.”