I understood then that I really had no choice in the matter. I reached for Dumbledore's pheasant feather quill, dipped it into the ink pot, and took a deep breath. I could refuse, and walk out the office door, but I don't. I know that this is something that will help the war without bloodshed. I signed my name, and as soon as I did, I felt the magic of binding take place, but it was a pure light that suffused my hand as I put the quill back in its place. The light disappeared into my body, and everything seemed to return to normal.