Harry Potter and The Last Alliance: Chapter 1

"Do not be afraid, Harry. Remember, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. They have their duties. You know what you yourself must do. Nobody can force you. You must find that hidden power within yourself."

The voice rang hollow and serene against the numbed walls of Harry's mind, exposing his half-dulled senses for what they were. The voice floated around, bringing a diluted ache to the sides of Harry's head. How could he do what everyone felt so sure was possible of him, when he didn't know how? He had no idea what "hidden power" he possessed, and wasn't even sure he had it in the first place. The very effort needed to battle with these feelings seemed to escape Harry, and he found himself both relieved and discomforted by the empty darkness of the room. It offered both a chilling escape from the unbearable realities and yet left him in doubt whether anything he perceived was real at all. But there was something real. He could feel it, or more correctly hear it. A solid, tangible reality, sounding off in the distance of his fogged mind. What was it? Crying? Someone was crying. Pulling at the back of his mind and coaxing him to come back to reality, Harry forced himself to remember. Where was he? In his bedroom, on his bed, he could hear the quiet sobs – and pain. A warm trickle oozed between his fingers and Harry gazed down only mildly interested at the cut the broken glass had given him. Why hadn't he ever bothered to use it sooner?
Just then Harry heard the doorbell ring. He could hear it even from upstairs. Hermione's sobs died down somewhat and Harry felt Ron shift his position, listening. And then, just like clockwork, the screams floated up and soon the shouting followed.
"Filth! Blood Traitors! Half-breeds! Begone from the house of my fathers!"
"Get her quiet!"
"Stun her!"
"Mudbloods! Dogs!"
"Shut her up!"
Harry heard the door open and close beyond the racket as new voices were added to the din. "Oh! I'm sorry! I keep forgetting about that!" Tonks's wails could be heard. And then Mrs. Weasley's shouts. "That's alright, Tonks, just help us close these curtains!"
Soon the screams were silenced and the house was restored to its former stillness. The ringing in Harry's head was still there, but the weight of the first one had been replaced by the screeching of the more recent. However, the sudden interruption into his thoughts was enough to jolt Harry from his stupor, and glancing at Ron and Hermione, he noticed it held the same effect on them.
Ron's quiet voice was the first to fill in the empty silence of the room. "Maybe we should do down?" He turned to the others slowly. "They may need help with something? We could hear what my dad has to say?"
"I want to get out of this room." Hermione agreed; her voice cracked from her crying. "You're mom will be making dinner now anyway, and we can't just stay up here forever."
"Like anyone is in the mood to eat." Harry muttered as he flicked the broken shard on the bedside tabletop and followed the other two out of the room.
Out on the landing the trio could look down and see Nymphadora Tonks, Arthur Weasley, and Kingsley Shacklebolt being greeted by those already in the House of Black.
"Arthur, what's happened?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a frightened whisper that just barely carried to Harry's ears.
Mr. Weasley shook his head. "It's not good, Molly. It's not good at all."
"But what about the others? The ones who-" Mrs. Weasley began, but her husband cut her off. "They're dead. They're all dead, Molly."
Mrs. Weasley clapped her hands over her mouth. Under the dimmed light cast Harry noticed how the shadows made everyone look more worn, tired, they all looked defeated. Lupin's condition with the lunar phases did nothing to improve his appearance, which was by far the worse for wear in the group. Mrs. Weasley looked about ready to say something more but Shacklebolt cleared his throat. "Perhaps we shouldn't talk about this in the hallway?" As if they could all read each other's minds the group below nodded together and looked up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"Children, come down and we'll prepare dinner." Mrs. Weasley called as the adults made their way into the kitchen. Harry and the others descended the stairs slowly after them.
"More are dead?" Hermione whispered miserably.
"I wonder who it is?" Ron asked quietly, turning from Hermione to look at Harry, as if he thought that he had seen it in a dream. This caused the heat to rise to Harry's face. Why did everyone have to suspect that he knew everything that Voldemort did or thought? As if he, Harry Potter, held the answer to every question?
"I don't know." Harry answered stiffly. "More from the Order I guess."
When the trio entered the kitchen it was to find Mrs. Weasley and Tonks taking out pots and pans from the cupboards while Mr. Weasley, Shacklebolt, and Lupin sat at the kitchen table. There was a moment of hastened eye contact, but nobody seemed to have the will to deal with more than their own personal thoughts. Which was not an unexpected relief to Harry. After Harry's fifth year, finding solitude and quiet was the reclusive peace he often sought out. It helped him escape the pain of dealing with others. Yet at such close quarters with people, his mind couldn't help but focus on the others around him. Everyone looked so terrible. All traces of a happy life seemed to have fled over the years. Mrs. Weasley had lost more weight and her lovely red hair now held traces of gray. Lupin's vast collection only expanded across his head, and Mr. Weasley was practically bald from stress. Tonks and Kingsley held the same expression that was to be found on any Order Member. A haunted gleam shown vividly in their eyes, they had seen and lived through the deaths and battles that this second war brought. Harry could only imagine how he himself appeared to the others. He shook his head and followed Ron and Hermione to the kitchen counter and began chopping vegetables up for dinner. They could just magic the work, but somehow being kept busy was a relief of its own.
Just then Mr. Weasley broke the silence, "Make plenty, Molly, we're expecting guests."
Mrs. Weasley looked over at her husband form her station. "And who's coming over?"
"Moody, our sons, McGonagall, Hagrid (Harry's heart lifted at the thought of his two favorite teachers coming to Grimmauld Place), Diggle, Vance-" Mr. Weasley paused. "And Mundungus, Snape, and Karkaroff."
Six heads turned as one at the sudden announcement. Only Mr. Weasley and Shacklebolt were left in a state of helpless calm. Harry turned to his friends only to find the same disbelieving expression mirrored back at him twice over.
"Karkaroff?" Lupin exclaimed doubtfully. "That's very risky. I don't think that's such a very wise decision, Arthur."
"It's ridiculous!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "Absurd! We can't allow him here! This is the Headquarters for the Order! Arthur, it's insane to allow him to come here! He'll be in the middle of every secret meeting we hold against You-Know-Who! And for all we know he could be loyal to him, pass on the information!" Mrs. Weasley looked livid. "Arthur! You cannot allow him to be brought here! I won't have it!"
"We have no choice, Molly." Mr. Weasley sighed. "He has no where else to go, and he could prove useful to the Order."
"Useful!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "He'll tell that monster all about us!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione leaned in close to each other while the argument raged on.
"Karkaroff?" Ron mused. "Might as well post up a sign outside the front door that reads 'Order of the Phoenix here', and do the filthy scum a favor! What's dad thinking? He's a Death Eater!"
"It's because he's a mate with Snape!" Harry hissed. "Of course that greasy git would bring him over if he was asked to. They're both in the same boat."
Ron nodded his head vigorously. "We always knew he wasn't to be trusted. Now the whole Order's in danger!"
"Ron!" Hermione snapped angrily.
"Oh come off it, Hermione!" Ron hissed. "Stop idealizing that everyone who says that they're on the good side really is! Look at Wormtail and Kreacher!" Ron suddenly took in a quick breath of air and turned towards Harry apologetically. Harry in turn turned away from the nervous expressions on his friends' faces and feigned to be preoccupied with the cooking at hand, trying to brush off the reminder of the worst pain he had ever known, a pain that still tortured him yet. He heard Hermione behind him give a warning sound under her breath he knew was directed at Ron and then the sounds of his friends busy work was head once again. His mind flicked involuntarily back towards the shard of mirror that lay broken on the bedside tabletop. Sirius . . . Why hadn't he bothered to find out about that mirror sooner? The pain began to well up again, and Harry felt an immense relief when Mrs. Weasley's shouts were loud enough to bring him back to the reality around him. He kept on working at dinner, but his focus was on the argument at hand.
"Arthur, it's insane! I won't allow it! Alastor won't allow it! The whole Order will be against it! It'll risk us all! Think about the children!"
"Molly-" Mr. Weasley began, but Lupin cut in. "She's right, Arthur. It would be suicide to allow him to stay here. If things get worse than they already are, he may very well sell us out to gain favor from Voldemort." Everyone in the room flinched at the name save Lupin and Harry.
"Molly, it can't be helped." Mr. Weasley added softly. "Dumbledore had already given his order that Karkaroff would be staying here. Mundungus and Snape as well. He didn't tell us why then, but we all know now."
Mrs. Weasley looked beside herself. She seemed ready to rage on some more, but at that moment there was a rapping at the front door that ended any further progress Mrs. Weasley seemed ready to put up in the defense of her beliefs. Lupin and Tonks hurried out of the kitchen and a few seconds later there was heard a muffled greeting, and the dull CLUNK of mismatched footsteps, accompanied by many normal sounding others. Harry turned his head toward the kitchen door as it suddenly swung open and the figures of Mad-Eye Moody, Bill and Charlie Weasley, and McGonagall walked into the room, followed after by Diggle, Vance, and the massive form of Hagrid.
"Well it's good to see you're all alive." Moody grunted as he limped over to the table and took a seat.
"The same relief here." Mrs. Weasley replied stiffly, obviously still upset over the argument she had held. "Have a seat and dinner will be ready soon. Would anyone like something to drink until then?"
"Tea? If you have any." McGonagall replied.
"Anything you have that's strong." Diggle added.
Bill headed over to the cupboards to get the drinks while chairs were drawn up with wands for those without seats. Mr. Weasley plopped down in one and turned immediately to Mad-Eye Moody. "Alastor, we need to know more about what's been going on."
"Yes," Lupin agreed. "We'll need to hear about the actions the Ministry is taking in these circumstances."
"The Ministry!" McGonagall repeated heatedly, grabbing her robes and drawing them around her shoulders tightly. "Under Fudge we should hope for little good!"
Diggle sniffed. "You will be very interested in hearing about Fudge's point of action." He gestured toward Moody. "Alastor will tell you all."
Harry cast Ron and Hermione a significant look. None of them had forgotten the heinous actions of Ministry of Magic had been undertaking ever since their fifth year at Hogwarts, now nearly two years ago. They had all thought that when the truth about Voldemort's return was accepted and understood that Fudge would finally come to his senses and act accordingly, but they were all wrong. It seemed that the return of the dreaded Dark Lord had driven Fudge into a state of paranoia and frantic desperation that his previous one against Dumbledore could not match. A dangerous combination when appointed with his line of power.
As McGonagall drew Hagrid up a massive chair with her wand the half- giant caught the student's stares, and perhaps understanding their thoughts so obviously written on their faces, he gave them what he thought was a reassuring smile before he sat down. The group had just begun to listen as Moody recalled all that had been happening when running footsteps were hear above, coming down the stairs, and bursting into the kitchen. It was Ginny and the twins, Fred and George Weasley.
"Who's here?" Fred blurted as George pushed him aside to get a better look.
"Bill and Charlie are alright!" Ginny cried in relief! "We've been so worried about you!"
Both older brothers who had remained respectfully silent thus far smiled back. "Yes, we're fine, but in a right state for some real food!" Bill announced loudly, getting a huff from his mother and a snicker from Tonks.
"Ah, sorry mate, but you've come to the wrong house for that if mum's cooking." Fred answered in a grave tone.
"She's the reason we're all looking so shabby lately." George added.
Both twins burst into flight and escaped through the kitchen door as a large ladle was thrown directly where they had been standing moments before.
"Then don't bother eating!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "Heaven knows we'll be able to keep more food in this place without you two terrors!"
Ginny giggled uncontrollably and headed over to Tonks, who had buried her face in the cabbage she was holding, and began to help with pouring the finished soup into bowls. After the momentary laughter died down Mrs. Weasley and her kitchen recruits began serving out dinner and it was at this offered time that Mrs. Weasley decided to bring up her issue with the Order. Harry was just handing Hagrid, with much difficulty; a cauldron sized bowl, when he noticed Mrs. Weasley approach Mad-Eye Moody.
"So, Alastor, I'm sure I'm safe in believing that you had no part or knew anything about allowing-" Whatever Moody was going to be told was cut off at that moment as the doorbell rang.
"Blood Traitors! Filth! Scum! Befouling the house of my fathers!"
"Oh shut her up!" Mr. Weasley cried. He and Lupin were the first out of the kitchen to silence Mrs. Black with Shacklebolt and Tonks in close pursuit. Vance looked towards Mrs. Weasley in surprise. "What's that?"
Mrs. Weasley sighed, shaking her head and placing Lupin's food at his empty seat. "Long story, I'll explain it to you at another time."
A few minutes later the silence was restored and fervent mutterings could be heard in the hallway. Then the kitchen door was thrown open once again as a new party entered into the throng. Harry was sure that if Moody's eyes grew any larger, he wouldn't be able to tell the magical one from the normal. And Moody was not the only one starring in disbelief. Everyone who had not been informed of this unexpected arrival starred on in apparent shock and disgust.
"You!" Moody growled. "So that's what the upset's been about!"
Into the kitchen, following after Mr. Weasley and the others, slinked in Mundungus Fletcher, and striding in behind him the greasy haired Severus Snape and the target of animosity, Igor Karkaroff.