The American Order of the Pheonix

by Benji The Vampire Confuser

Based on characters and situations created by J.K. Rowling. No infringement of copyrighted material is intended. No profit is being made, and this is purely a work of fan-fiction, honoring the original material.

The American Order of the Pheonix.

Not to be confused with The Order of Pheonix, which had absolutely nothing to do with fighting you know who. It was a joke Micky Keeler had told, and it had garnered some laughs. He, Jack Calloway, and Alexander Crowley comprised the 'inner circle' of the Order. The others were not necessarily Wizards. For that matter, not all of them were even human.

Jack was fond of some of life's little ironies. His humor was not quite the wackiness of Micky. He was more fond of little quips like "Do you know what another word for Pureblood is? Inbred." He was amused by the fact that the British Order of the Pheonix was fighting a Wizard who hated Muggles (or the Magic Impaired as Micky's friend Joe liked to say), had no Muggles among it's members.

"You think they're powerless in this fight? There's a reason Wizards and Witches said 'fuck it' and separated from them in the first place."

Of course his greatest amusement of all, was the fact that the American Order, had as one of it's founders, a Slytherin. A Slytherin who not only wasn't pure Wizard, he wasn't pure human. And the leader was a Ravenclaw. Crowley had graduated from Hogwarts in the same class as Lucius Malfoy and James Potter. And for all Jame's courage, and Malfoy's bluster, there were those who believed Crowley was ten times more dangerous than both.

And oh yeah. The American Order was willing to cheat.

"Voldemort." Jack found himself suddenly surrounded by several Death Eaters and Snatchers. He smirked and raised his hands in surrender. "Okay Mes Amis. You got me."

"Expelliamus!" Calloway's wand (driftwood and mermaid hair) flew from his hand. But before it could reach the waiting hand of the man who'd disarmed him, the fishing line tied one end to the wand, and the other to his wrist reached it's limit. With a practiced, flick of his wrist he pulled it back.

He fell backwards towards the ground, not to avoid the jinxes and curses flung at him from his attackers, but to be out of the line of fire.

Silenced rifles, flung daggers and spells converged on the Snatcher gang from all sides. Within moments, not a one was left alive.

"Nice of them to give us such an easy way to call them into an ambush." Rupert Giles said, emerging from the bushes. He retrieved a dagger from the back of a man who looked like he might be part Troll.

"I'm filled with gratitude myself." Jack smirked. "Oop, this one's still alive." And was attempting to summon help it seemed. Couldn't have that. Years ago, Calloway had seen a movie called Inglorious Bastards. He liked the idea of scaring the bad guys. So rather than make a clean, wizarding kill with his wand, he drew his side arm, and shot the man. Giles grimaced, but said nothing.

Thanks to diversions like this, Muggleborns were being successfully ferried out of England and to New Orleans, the main arrival point for the escape portkeys. There, the American Order would help them with the 'Now What' phase of exodus.

"So," Crowley said from the shadows. With his gravelly voice, and somewhat sinister demeanor, he really was almost indistinguisable from the villains of many a muggle movie. "Think the Brits will thank us for this? Or just mutter about how savage we Americans are?"

Jack thought for a moment. "Both."