Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing. :(
A/N: This is my first official published fanfic so please review! I don't care if you totally tear apart my story it has to help at least a little. Along that note I really have no idea where this is going. I know where i would like it to go but chances are it won't happen that way. So please stick with me. Well here it goes!
Harry Potter sat impatiently in Dumbledore's office waiting for the old wizard to return with news. His heart still pounded erratically in his chest and blood wept freely from the gash on his left temple. His hands fumbled over his wand, paranoia keeping him from stashing it in his pocket, while his foot tapped out an insistent rhythm on the stone floor. A glance to either side found his two best friends in the same state of anticipation.
Ron Weasley slumped in the chair to Harry's right, slouced down so low it seemed he was trying to hide himself in the upholstery. His red hair hung limp just past his ears, drenched with sweat and grime. A white handkerchief was tied tightly around his upper arm, blood already seeping through, staining the white with a deep scarlet. Catching Harry's eye he offered a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Harry flashed what he hoped was a reassuring smile and turned his gaze on his other companion.
Hermione Granger perched properly on the edge of her chair, hands folded lightly on her lap. If Harry hadn't known her he would have said she looked calm. But knowing her for 6 years now he could pick out the slight tremor in her delicate hands and the way her eyes darted frantically from the door to the window and back. Her bushy brown hair was pulled back in a hasty bun almost disguising the dirt that coated it. Another attempt at a reassuring smile and Harry returned to staring at his own nervous hands as the scene replayed in his head.
It was Halloween, the first Hogsmead day of Harry's 6th year. He had been in Honeydukes when the attack hit. They all apparated in at once, a flurry of black robes and masks. The curses were flying before anyone could even register what they saw. The ring of students standing immediately around the Death Eaters dropped like flies. Instincts kicked in sending Harry running into the street, closely followed by Ron, Hermione, and a handful of older students. With a blaze of multi colored spells, the small group attacked the Death Eaters, giving the other occupants of the village a chance to run. Harry was oblivious to the chaos around him. Adrenaline coursed through his veins narrowing his focus to a single objective. He hadn't even felt the hex that wounded his head. His rage and fear flowed from him in a slur of magic, stopping only when the Death Eaters vanished, Disapparating as fast as they had appeared. Harry's body had gone numb by this point, his mind running on auto pilot. He turned dazedly to see Dumbledore and the rest of the staff striding quickly towards them. Dumbledore gave Harry hasty orders to return to the castle and wait for him in his office.
And so it was that Harry, Ron, and Hermione came to be sitting in the stuffy office cursing the slow old man. Harry couldn't help but remember the last time he'd been here. In a fit of rage over Sirius's near death experience he had destroyed over half of Dumbledore's possessions. After, when Harry had calmed down enough to listen, Dumbledore had told Harry of the prophecy that had shaped his life thus far and would continue to do so until the final, inevitable battle with Voldemort. The next day Harry had left Hogwarts for a very dull summer spent with the Dursleys. The last week, Harry had been removed to Headquarters for an equally dull stay with his still healing Godfather.
With the revelation of the prophecy Harry had expected things to change upon his return to the castle. New classes, special training, something to prove that they were indeed preparing for a war. But the first of September brought only disappointment for Harry. Classes had carried on as usual and Harry was just another student, not the boy destined to kill the Dark Lord. The world still turned in spite of the pending war. But now the war had come to them. The proverbial wolf was howling at the door, demanding change. Dumbledore could not ignore this.
As if on cue the door opened admitting a weary Dumbledore, who strode purposefully to take his seat behind the desk. A raised hand stopped the Gryffindor's questions on their tongues. With a deep sigh he spoke, his voice conveying the depth of his fatigue.
"No one was killed. Two third year Ravenclaw's and one first year Gryffindor were transferred to St. Mungo's. They're expected to make a full recovery. Everyone else is in the Hospital Wing or already back with their houses." A relieved sigh issued from the three students. Harry gazed expectantly at Dumbledore waiting for the rest of the story. He was not disappointed. "Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger. You should go have your injuries looked at. Harry will meet you in the Hospital Wing shortly." With a quick glance at Harry the pair rose and hurried from the room.
Harry stared intently at tired blue eyes behind half moon glasses. Hundreds of questions skimmed through his head. Dumbledore waited patiently for Harry to sort out his thoughts. He decided to start with the obvious.
"What went wrong?" Dumbledore leaned forward, leaning his elbows on the desk and making a tent with his hands.
"The Order was not informed of this attack. We had no way of preventing or preparing for it." His voice was flat, carrying no inflection, like he'd rehearsed this conversation ahead of time.
"But isn't that Snape's job? To get information about Voldemort's attacks?" Harry's voice carried an accusation that he didn't even try to hide.
"Professor Snape, Harry. And yes that was his job."
"Was?" Dumbledore sighed for the second time in as many minutes.
"Professor Snape was discovered as a spy two weeks after the end of last term." His voice was flat again and his eyes dropped almost guiltily to stare at his desk. Harry began suspecting that Dumbledore really didn't want to have this conversation with him.
"So the Order has been in the dark for months?" Harry was barely able to contain the anger that boiled up inside of him. "And nobody bothered to tell me this?"
"Not completely in the dark," Dumbledore stated, choosing to ignore Harry's last comment. "We've managed to secure a new source of information." Intrigued, Harry had to ask.
"Who?" Dumbledore raised his eyes, which now held that all too familiar twinkle.
"Draco Malfoy." Harry's jaw dropped and he sputtered for words.
"You... honestly... but... You really think we can trust him?" The question came out harsh and unbelieving.
"I know we can trust him." Harry raised an eyebrow and Dumbledore answered the unspoken question. "I am not at liberty to say. If you wish to know you must ask Mr. Malfoy yourself." Harry snorted. Not likely. He'd rather curse me than talk to me.
"And why was I not informed of this?" Harry's anger boiled up again, seeping into his voice. "Why haven't we been preparing for this since the beginning of the school year?"
"The Ministry has ruled that when the time comes to face Voldemort my students will not be involved." Dumbledore met Harry's anger with a resigned determination.
"And me?!" Harry's voice rose steadily until he was shouting. "Am I not destined to destroy him?! Why am I here taking classes instead of training!?"
"My hands are tied in this matter Harry!" Dumbledore's harsh voice startled Harry causing him to involuntarily scoot back in his chair. Dumbledore took a deep breath before continuing. "The Ministry wished for the school to remain unchanged in a naive effort to retain the students' innocence. Though I might wish it otherwise, that is the way it must be. The Minister himself has been keeping a very close eye on me." Harry cast his eyes warily around the office as though trying to spot a spy conveniently hiding in the corner.
"So what am I supposed to do? I can't face him unprepared." Dumbledore smiled, the twinkle in his eye growing brighter.
"While the Ministry is keeping an eye on me, they are not observing the rest of my staff with the same scrutiny. It just so happens that we have an expert in this very castle." Harry racked his brain coming up with only one answer.
"Professor Snape?" Dumbledore's smile grew wider answering the question for him. "He hates me. You saw how badly our Occlumency lessons went. Why would this be any different?"
"I think you need to give this a chance." Harry sighed and slumped back in his chair, accepting his defeat grudgingly.
"I don't really have a choice do I?" Dumbledore smiled infuriatingly wider, eyes filling with amusement at his student's plight.
"I believe you can find Professor Snape in the Hospital Wing. You should have your head looked at in any case." Taking that as the dismissal it was intended as, Harry rose glumly from his seat.
"Thank you sir." Harry walked resignedly from the office.
A/N: So that was it... the first chapter. Is it worth writing more on? Tell me what you think... please please please!