phoenix

In the depths of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, a peculiar artifact rested, forgotten, and unseen. It was an antique locket, not Slytherin's tainted creation, but a different one, carrying a much more intimate story for the Order of the Phoenix.

Long before dusk had stained the sky, an army of women, men and younglings marched to the chorus of the awakening rooster. They were as grim as the cold morning fog which hung blankly over the French countryside. This place was 'Le Voreux', and the day had begun for the coal miners of this part of the world.