****Author's note: I don't own HP or the HP universe. JK Rowling does, and I am grateful to her for allowing me to play with the world she has so artfully crafted.****
Fudge stepped back from Snape too. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled by the ugly mark on Snape's arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."
He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped at Harry's bed.
"Your winnings," he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto Harry's bedside table. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances…"
He crammed his bowler hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at the group around Harry's bed.
Dumbledore paused, taking a long breath, then spoke steadily. The argument with Fudge might not even have happened.
"There's work to be done. Molly, I know your family has a lot to lose, but am I right to think I can count on you and Arthur?"
"Of course," Mrs. Weasley said, still with a slightly alarmed look on her face from Fudge's obstinance. "We know Fudge. His style of playing favorites has never exactly endeared him to Arthur."
"Then I will need both of you," said Dumbledore. He looked at Bill. "And you as well, if you are willing."
"Definitely," said Bill without hesitation. "I can apply for a desk job at Gringotts if need be."
"Let's decide on that at a later date," said Dumbledore. "We will still need someone to bring in foreign assets. For now, I need you to speak to your father. We must immediately begin contacting those at the Ministry who might believe that Voldemort has returned, and Arthur is the best person we have to make that happen."
"Right," said Bill, rising from his chair and patting Harry on the arm. "I'll go now."
"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "He must be cautious. We don't want Fudge to know we are trying to undercut him within the Ministry."
Bill nodded and headed towards the exit. The hospital wing doors slammed shut as Dumbledore now turned his attention to Madam Pomfrey.
"Poppy," he said, "as your patient seems to be in no immediate danger, could you please go down to Professor Moody's office? There will be a house elf in there named Winky. Can you take her back down to the kitchens? Dobby should be able to take care of her from there."
"Of…of course," she said. She turned and walked down the ward, glancing back over her shoulder as the doors shut for the second time.
Dumbledore waited for several seconds, then turned back to the group at large.
"Now," he said, quietly, "it is time for one of us to assume his real form again." He looked at Sirius, whose head bobbed. A second later, Sirius the man stood next to Harry's bed, his robes still tattered and his hair still matted in places. Mrs. Weasley shrieked. Sirius grinned.
"I don't look that ghastly, do I?" he asked with a soft barklike laugh.
"But…" said Mrs. Weasley, taking several steps back toward the window, "but…but…how?"
"Long story, Mum," said Ron. "Just go with it."
Snape, however, was looking positively livid with rage at the sight of Sirius.
"Him!" he shouted, pointing aggressively at Sirius's thin figure. "What is he doing here?"
"He is here at my invitation," said Dumbledore smoothly, "just as you are, Severus. But we will deal with that later. For now, there is still business to be completed."
Dumbledore waved his wand at the hospital wing door, and Harry heard it lock. Dumbledore waved his wand again, streaming what seemed to be thin trails of misty air out of the end, which surrounded the group within a circle of thin vapor.
"Protective enchantments," Dumbledore said. "We do not want to be overheard at the moment. Now." He looked around at them all. The other six faces in the room stared back at him, entranced.
"As of this moment, I am officially recalling the Order of the Phoenix," he said. There was a sudden flash of light, and a solitary phoenix feather fell gracefully from the ceiling, landing on the spotless floor of the hospital wing at the center of the group. "We will oppose Lord Voldemort at all costs. With luck, we will succeed. We have a much better chance this time around. Fudge's attitude will of course make things more complicated, but Lord Voldemort is still acting from a position of relative weakness, for the present at least. We must not allow him to secure a foothold."
With these last words, a force seemed to emanate from the elderly wizard. Every other face in the room stared, enraptured, at Dumbledore, seemingly unable to look away. The sense of power was awe-inspiring. Dumbledore continued, just as calmly as before.
"Voldemort must even now be beginning to gather his forces together. We must immediately do the same. Sirius, I need you to make the old rounds. Gather the old Order members we know we can rely on—Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, and the likes—and then hide out at Lupin's. I will have further instructions for you later. We will also need to begin gathering information. Severus, it has been nearly three hours since Lord Voldemort returned, and he is no doubt already rather cross with you for not appearing when he first regained his powers. If you are prepared, I need you to resume your role. Molly, I would like you to stay here with Harry for now. Just to be safe. I must go and meet with Arthur at once to begin coordinating our strategy for acquiring Ministry contacts."
The three of them all nodded. Snape, Sirius, and Dumbledore all began to move towards the door, but at the sound of Harry's voice, all three of them stopped.
"Hang on," he said. "What about me? What can I do?"
Everyone else stared dumbly at him. Harry flushed slightly.
"I mean, " he went on, trying to ignore the feeling that he had just turned a giant spotlight on and pointed it directly at himself, "there has to be something that I can do. Something to help the Order. I don't want to just sit in this hospital bed for the next week."
"Harry, don't be silly," Mrs. Weasley said, forcing an unconvincing smile onto her face. "You've been through a dreadful ordeal tonight. You need to take the rest of your dreamless sleep potion. You need rest. Let us take it from here."
Harry shook his head. "I already slept. I'm fine. I want to help. I can go with Sirius, I can help him." Harry didn't know why or how, but in spite of his fatigue, his soreness, the overwhelming desire to just let the world wash away that he had felt an hour ago was completely gone. In its place was a longing, a thirst for purpose.
"Don't be ridiculous, Potter," Snape hissed vehemently at him. "You are fourteen years old. Your magic is average at best, even for your own age group. Do you think this is a game? You know what the stakes are here. Everyone in this Order is ready to sacrifice our very lives in order to bring down the Dark Lord. Many of us will. And you have the gall to sit there and think that you have anything to offer the Order? You think you have any idea of the danger, of the magnitude of what is involved when taking such an oath? Such arrogance, Potter. Given how James used to walk around this castle like he owned the place, though, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised anymore."
Harry tried to ignore the slight about his father. He didn't even look at Snape when he spoke again, but rather at Dumbledore. "Professor, I know I'm not qualified and that I might not be of much use in a fight, but I proved three years ago, almost to this day, that I was ready to die if it meant stopping Voldemort. I've faced Tom Riddle four times now, and I've survived each time. I was the one in that graveyard tonight. I watched him come back. I watched Cedric—" Harry stopped for a second, collecting himself, This was important. "If it wasn't for me, none of you would know that Voldemort returned tonight. I want to join. I want to fight. Voldemort wanted me tonight—not Professor Dumbledore, not some Auror—he wanted me. He still does. I'm not going to sit on the sidelines. I want to join the Order, and, truth be told, I think the resume of what I've done stacks up pretty well with anyone else."
Harry didn't know where the confidence in his voice had suddenly come from. He had not meant to say all that so bluntly, but once he had started, it seemed to have all spilled out on its own. The room had gone very quiet. Snape was still shaking his head, muttering under his breath. Sirius and Dumbledore were both looking at Harry, but in a strange way, as if they were pondering him. Ron and Hermione looked simply staggered. Mrs. Weasley, however, looked almost frightened.
"You can't seriously be considering this, Albus?" she said, her voice rising. "This is absurd. He is fourteen. Fourteen! No matter what he's done, there's no ethical way you can allow someone so young to volunteer to risk their life like this!"
"You think Harry doesn't understand what's at stake here?" Sirius asked her, a sudden bite in his voice. "Of all the objections you could raise, you're going to say that Harry Potter, whose parents were murdered, who Voldemort has attempted to kill four times now, who witnessed Voldemort murder a fellow student of his in cold blood tonight—you don't think Harry, more than anyone, knows what it means to join the war against Voldemort?"
"Then how about the objection that we can't allow teenagers to die for our cause? Are you out of your mind, Sirius? I think Azkaban must have unhinged you. For heaven's sake, even You-Know-Who isn't out recruiting teenagers to become Death Eaters!"
"That will do, Molly," Dumbledore said quietly. "Sirius is an innocent man. He is no more unhinged than you or I am." Mrs. Weasley began to speak again, outraged, but Dumbledore held up a finger to stop her. He walked to the foot of Harry's bed and stood over him.
"Do you wish to join the Order of the Phoenix, Harry?" Dumbledore asked softly.
"Yes," said Harry fiercely.
Dumbledore considered him for another moment, then said, "I am not going to ask you whether you know what is at stake. I believe that you, more than anyone else, do indeed know. However, there are a few things we must resolve before I even consider such an idea."
Harry waited. Snape and Mrs. Weasley were now both looking ludicrously at Dumbledore.
"If you join the Order," Dumbledore said, his voice now much firmer, "you are agreeing to follow my plan. My directives. This is my organization. Is that clear?"
"Of course," said Harry.
"Understand what I mean in full, Harry. You will not like some of the things I tell you to do. You may not wish to obey them. They will not be easy, nor will they be particularly enjoyable. But if you want to join the Order, you are trusting me to know what is best in order to stop Voldemort. For instance, if you join…you will begin extracurricular lessons with Professor Snape immediately, and they will carry over into the school year."
"What?" said Harry and Snape together.
Dumbledore quelled Snape with a look, then looked back down at Harry. "You have no doubt faced extraordinary things in your life so far, Harry, and I would be foolish to overlook that. If you want me to even consider allowing you into the Order, however, you will give me your word on this. Do not give it to me lightly, either. I am known for giving second chances, it is true, but in this case there will be no such generosity. This is war, and we cannot afford to second guess each other."
"What…what kind of extra lessons?" Harry asked nervously. "Do you mean more defensive magic, or—"
"I cannot tell you yet," Dumbledore said flatly. "Do I have your word, Harry?"
Harry looked at Dumbledore. Did he trust him? It was true that Dumbledore had never exactly led him astray by any means, and he knew without a doubt that Dumbledore's devotion to stopping Voldemort was second to only perhaps his own. Yet Dumbledore had withheld information from him in the past…and Harry still suspected that Dumbledore had manipulated many of the situations that had led him to face Voldemort so many times. As Harry thought about it more, though, he realized that Dumbledore had also given him the tools to survive in those situations. He had taught Harry how the Mirror of Erised worked, and it was Fawkes who had brought him the Sorting Hat, which had given him Gryffindor's sword.
"Yes," said Harry, meeting Dumbledore's eyes. Neither Harry nor Dumbledore blinked as several seconds passed.
"Very well," said Dumbledore, taking his eyes away from Harry. "Severus, Sirius, please head out. There is work to be done."
Snape cast one furious look at Harry, made as if to say something, but then simply nodded and headed for the hospital wing doors. Sirius patted Harry on the arm.
"I'll see you very soon, Harry," he said. "Take care of yourself." Then he, too, followed Snape out of the ward.
Dumbledore waited until they were gone, then said, "Very well then, Harry. Come with me, please. We need to go up to my office again."
"Albus!" Mrs. Weasley said, still in the same shocked and outraged tone she had used earlier. "Harry needs rest! He still has half of this dreamless sleep potion left to take! He needs—"
"This cannot wait, Molly," Dumbledore said, politely but firmly. "Time is of the essence."
Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips, but did not object further. Dumbledore beckoned to Harry, and Harry followed him. Dumbledore was silent for the entire journey to the other side of the castle, to the gargoyle that concealed the entrance to Dumbledore's study, up the spiral staircase, and finally into the circular room that Harry had visited several times before. Dumbledore seated himself behind his desk, and motioned for Harry to sit down across from him. He cleared his throat.
"Well, Harry, now that you are a member of the Order of the Phoenix, it is time for you to receive certain…information."