CHAPTER ONE: A Stormy Night
Harry woke up with a start. The howling winds roaring outside had made the tree in front of his uncle's and aunt's house on Privet Drive scratch and pound against his open window, as though it were eagerly trying to get inside. Rain was gushing in through the small window and splattering against his face. Harry groaned and got up to shut the window, his feet slushing through his flooded carpet. Turning around back to his bed, his eyes caught his sweaty and pale reflection in his closet's mirror.
He slowly walked towards it, fingering the lightning bolt shaped scar that stood out clearly on the center of his forehead. Harry scowled at his reflection, anger suddenly surging through his body. It all started with this stupid scar, he thought. Pushing his hands onto his forehead, he sat down on the edge of his bed and traced his scar once more. Taking a deep breath, Harry tried to forget the nightmare he had been having, but it was of no use. How could he forget? He had been having the same nightmare for weeks now...Sirius's barking laughter while dueling Bellatrix in the Department of Mysteries, a red light...Sirius's look of shock as he fell through the mysterious black veil....
Harry let out a cry of anguish. How could he forget? Would he forget? Did he want to?
He didn't know. In a way, Harry was almost scared to forget - it would be like insulting Sirius's memory.... I can't forget, Harry thought. It's my fault he died.... Just like everyone else who's died because of me... I just have to learn to live with it, that's all.
Even the letter that had come to him a week after Sirius's death couldn't make Harry realize the reality of it. Lupin had invited Harry to a memorial for Sirius, but Harry had firmly refused. He didn't want to realize, he didn't want to understand, he didn't want to accept Sirius's death. Vaguely, he remembered hearing of only a few people showing up, since most of the magical community was still stubbornly convinced of Sirius being an escaped mass-murderer. Now, almost three months after the battle in the Department of Mysteries, Harry almost regretted not going. It was my last chance to see him, even though...even though his body wasn't actually there. Still, at least I could've been there for him.
He had spent almost the entire summer in his room, with only his owl, Hedwig, for company. Not that his uncle, aunt or cousin minded. This was probably the best summer of their lives, Harry thought bitterly.
Harry pushed his fists into his eyes to stop the tears of frusturation and anger that threatened to fall. He leaned against the wall and looked at Hedwig, his snow-white owl, who was fervently shaking her wet feathers and glaring at him, as thought the rain that had been pouring into his room and splashing into her cage was his fault. Harry sighed and picked up a shirt from the floor that hadn't been soaken wet and tried to help dry Hedwig's wings. As he gently dried the soft white plumes, Hedwig nipped his fingers softly and licked her foreleg, which had been haphazardly bandaged by Harry yesterday night.
"Does it still hurt?" Harry asked her, examining it carefully. He had sent Hedwig a week ago with a note to Ron and Hermione, asking them whether they knew if he was going to the Burrow or not. Hedwig had only returned yesterday, her wings spotted with dirt and the note the Harry had written slightly ripped in places and partly opened, as if someone had tried to open it but failed. Petting Hedwig distractedly, Harry wondered who could have tried to intercept his note, all the while dreading the answer.
Last school term the temporary headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had attempted to read his mail, but Harry doubted that she was up to anything at the moment - the last he heard, Dolores Umbridge had been fired from her post of Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. A small grin spread over Harry's pale face, yet his green eyes seemed to have lost their inner sparkle. His fingers stroked Hedwig's damp wings. If Umbridge didn't do it, then who did? Harry wondered. Well, all this means is that I'm being watched, and I can't do anything about it - I can't even tell Ron, Hermione, Lupin, or Dumbledore. Harry scowled again. Was he ever going to live a life where he didn't have to keep looking over his shoulder?
He abruptly stopped petting Hedwig, ignoring her disgruntled nip on his hand. The only other person that Harry could think would ever be interested in who he was writing to was....Voldermort. Just thinking of the name that was behind everything miserable in his life made Harry want to throw something and yell at the top of his voice. Panic filled him - if Voldermort or one of his followers was involved in this, then that meant they knew about Ron and Hermione and Lupin, the only people left who Harry truly cared about. What if they tried to get Harry to come to them just as they had done with Sirius?
Harry fell back against his pillows. If Ron and Hermione were in danger, how would he tell the Order? Harry clenched his teeth and closed his eyes. Just weeks ago Moody had threatened his Uncle Vernon to let Harry communicate with the Magical World - Harry's world. But where was Moody now when Harry needed him? Harry had spent the whole, boiling hot, dull summer hoping against hope that one of the Order's members could somehow help Harry escape from the clutches of his uncle, aunt, and cousin, who had been more dreadful and annoying than ever. Harry opened his eyes, listening to the wailing wind thrashing the tree outside. I'm trapped, he thought.
BAMM! BAMM! BAMM!
Harry stood up quickly, instinctively reaching for his wand from his nightstand. Even though he couldn't really do any magic outside of Hogwarts, he still felt a lot safer with it clutched in his hand. Harry slowly walked to his door, listening for other noises. He had distinctly heard it coming from downstairs. There was no sound. Maybe it was the wind?
BAMM! BAMM! BAMM!
This time the thumps came more resolutely. Harry quietly opened his door and continued to listen. Suddenly Uncle Vernon bustled out of his room, and Aunt Petunia rushed to her son Dudley's room, where Harry could hear his cousin loudly screaming. Uncle Vernon's puce colored face furiously turned to his nephew, his veins almost popping from his neck. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS? YOU BETTER NOT HAVE DONE ANY...ANY..."
But at this Uncle Vernon's paled into a dark gray color and he appeared to have started choking. "ANY-YOU-KNOW-WHAT!!! WELL, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS, BOY?"
Harry coolly looked at his uncle, fully understanding what he meant by "you-know-what". The Dursleys have never been too keen in accepting and liking that Harry was a wizard, and belonged to a world that they didn't want to accept or comprehend.
"I didn't - " Harry stopped. Suddenly there was a crashing noise downstairs that seemed to echo throughout the whole house, ending with a loud THUMP. The roaring wind from outside could just be heard over the loud footsteps crashing up the stairs....
Uncle Vernon's face changed to a ghastly gray. He made a sound resembling a choking mouse and scrambled to join his whimpering wife and son in Dudley's bedroom, leaving Harry tensely clutching his wand. As the pounding steps came closer, a pair of warm, black beetle-like eyes shone through the dark hallway.
" 'ello Harry! How are yeh?" exlaimed the beaming and ruddy face of Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts - and a member of the Order of the Phoenix.
At first Harry stared at Hagrid, not daring to believe that his wish had come true. He could leave the Dursleys! But, most importantly, he could alert the Order...Harry grinned at Hagrid.
"I didn't except to see you here, Hagrid. What's happened? Are the others with you? Did Dumbledore send you here? Are you coming to take me to the Burrow? Or to..." Suddenly it dawned on Harry - of course they wouldn't go back to the Burrow...the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix was probably still at number twelve, Grimauld Place...how could I have been so stupid to think that they would have changed headquarters after Sirius...Harry could not go back now, he just couldn't.
Hagrid, who had been watching the conflicting emotions on Harry's face, frowned. "Are yeh alrigh' Harry? Dursleys giving yeh some problems?" At this Hagrid's hand, triple the size of the average person, reached to a ratty pink umbrella inside his humongous mole-skinned coat, and looked around Harry's open doorway, as if the Dursleys were hiding behind it.
"No, no, it's not that Hagrid..." Harry's voice trailed off as he noticed the rather wincing expression of Hagrid, since he had to crouch down so low under the ceiling that his knees and black beard almost dragged on the floor. "Er, why don't we go downstairs, Hagrid...the ceiling is a bit bigger down there...you can sit down too," Harry led the way downstairs, Hagrid's enormous black boots trampling along behind him.
"THAT BEAST WILL NOT SIT IN MY LIVING ROOM!" came Uncle Vernon's furious voice from Dudley's bedroom. Aunt Petunia's and Dudley's whimpers could barely be heard from behind the room's door.
"Well, come on out and stop us then!" Harry yelled back, glaring at the door. But nothing happened, only that Harry could hear angry growls emitting from the room. Harry shook his head and lead Hagrid downstairs.
As they entered Aunt Petunia's spotless living room, Hagrid sighed, and stretched his massive back, settling - or rather, crushing - the speckless white couch. Harry winced. He did not want to see Aunt Petunia's face in the morning as she discovered her flooded, muddy carpet, destroyed couch, or stained stairway. Harry turned on the electric heater as Hagrid pushed the fallen door (so that's what had fallen, thought Harry) into its place.
"Well, Harry, I reckon yeh want to know what I'm doin' here?" Hagrid smiled. Seeing the questioning look on Harry's face, he continued. "The Order knows yeh're being watched Harry - " Harry made as if to interrupt, his eyes lighting up, but Hagrid put up his platter-sized hand.
"Just let me finish Harry - we don' have much time," Hagrid looked anxiously out the window into the roaring storm and murmered, "I reckon it'll be abou' five minutes..." He cast a beaming look on Harry and said, "Well, I've come to take you to headquarters, Harry. No one came with me, well, because, they've...found out somethin' that they've been waitin' for, so...they'll see you when yeh get there. Er, I suppose we need to get yeh're things, eh? Oh, and don' worry about your uncle and aunt - " At this Harry snorted - "Dumbledore said he'll take care of 'em...well, let's get goin' then," Hagrid cast a weary look upstairs.
"Eh, maybe yeh should go, and I'll wait for yeh..."
At this Harry said quietly, "What if I don't want to go?"
Hagrid's furry black eyebrows rose as far as they can go.
"Er, well, the thing is, I dunno if I could...that is, I don't know if I want to..." Harry muttered, and, horrified that tears had sprung to his eyes, looked away.
"Oh," Hagrid's shining black eyes became clouded, as if trying to hold back something. "Well, Harry, is it really that better 'ere? " He asked, dubiously looking at the pasted smiles coming from the numerous photographs around the living room - all, conspicuously, without Harry in them.
"Of course not," Harry snapped. "But I would rather stay here than go see where Sirius...and anyway, everyone there will be looking at me with pity and thinking what a walking death case I am - "
"Death case! Yeh're no death case, Harry!" Hagrid exclaimed.
"Oh yeah? Tell that to my parents, and Cedric, and..." But Harry couldn't finish. He gruffly said, "I just can't, ok? I just can't go back if it means going there."
Hagrid quickly glanced at the window and turned to Harry, his charcoal-colored eyes kind. "Look, Harry, I know what it is to lose someone close to yeh...but, well..."
Hagrid scratched the mass of black tangled hair at his predominant chin and looked at Harry. "Yeh can't hide from it. Yeh do that, and yeh can no longer live - and yeh do that, and yeh might as well be dead. Besides, if yeh stay here, then yeh're just letting Yeh-Know-Who -" Hagrid paused, for his eyes had just caught a sparkling green light had just sparkled in the sky, shining through the howling storm.
His hairy face immediately looked determined. "Righ'...Er, Harry, I know yeh won' like this, but..." Hagrid took out a small, cracked teacup out of one of his many coat pockets and put it on the coffeetable, murmered something, and glanced at Harry, grabbing his hand.
"Hagrid? What's -"
"No time to explain, Harry," Hagrid said firmly, and, taking a final look outside, grasped hold of the cup. "Sorry, Harry," Hagrid smiled apologetically. Just as Harry began to demand why, Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked forward, his feet leaving the ground, pushing, speeding him forward, pulling him through the wind magnetically....
CHAPTER TWO: The New Order
"OW!" Harry exclaimed, his shoulder banging against a stone wall.
"Alrigh', Harry?" Hagrid asked, slamming Harry against the wall again in his efforts to dust Harry off.
"Er, ya, I think so..." Harry quickly shot out of under Hagrid's grasp, and looked about him, all the while dreading what he would see.
The stone walls surrounding a large room...a long wooden table in the middle of the floor, sagging under the weight of steaming and delectable dishes...a fireplace roaring around a bubbling cauldron...Harry's bright green eyes lingered at the fireplace until outrage burst through him.
"Hagrid, I told you I didn't want to come here!" Harry took deep breathes in a vain effort to control his sweeping anger.
"Well, Harry, yeh see..eh..." Hagrid akwardly scratched the back of his head
and avoided Harry's eyes. "Dumbledore wanted...we all thought it best if yeh would stay here, school bein' only a week away and all, and, eh, besides, Dumbledore..."
"DON'T I EVER GET A SAY IN WHAT I WANT?!" Harry shouted. He desperately ran his hands through his hair, making it stand up all the more, and looked wildly around. I was wrong...I'm still trapped, especially in this place...
"Now, Harry, it's certainly not that - but under the circumstances, we thought it best if yeh could stay here, especially since Dumbledore and Lupin have some stuff to work out with yeh..." Hagrid looked up, giving Harry a small smile. "I suppose I could at least tell yeh some of wha' they want to say to yeh - "
"Harry! Oh Harry, I'm so glad you came here at last, I was so worried!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, rushing into the room and at once brushing some cobwebs off Harry's shirt and straightening his rebellious hair, beaming at him. "We all knew you'd get here safe of course -" She smiled up at Hagrid - "But all the same, we thought it would take you a lot longer to get here, what with your dear uncle and aunt..." At this Mrs. Weasley's kind face hardened, as if she had just been forced to swallow a lemon - "As you can see, supper isn't even ready yet, but you can go and wait upstairs. Ron and Ginny are there, and Lupin has gone to get Hermione...the others, I expect, will soon get here." She beamed at Harry again, pushing him out the kitchen, and turned to the enchanted knives chopping some carrots up at the counter.
Harry was trying to say he didn't want to leave and looked back at Hagrid expectantly, but Hagrid just shrugged his shoulders. "I'll see yeh in a bit Harry, and don' worry, yeh'll find out soon enough..." With a last cheerful wave at an exasperated Harry, Hagrid opened the basement door and left.
Why doesn't anyone feel it's important to tell me these kind of things? Harry thought angrily. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was here at last, the one place Harry couldn't stand to be in anymore, even more than the Dursley's. Grimauld Place had turned into the cage that Harry had wanted to escape from all summer...he just hadn't realized it until now. It was here that all his memories of last summer aroused to remind him of Sirius' barking laugh, Tonk's metamorphic nose at the dinner table, Lupin's smiling eyes as he hugged Harry...Ron and Hermione and the Weasley twins, working along beside him, launched in a cleaning battle with the house... of how everything used to be.
But even as he remembered these things, something stirred inside Harry. He wasn't really alone after all. Maybe he was a walking death case, but at least he had people who didn't want to see him die, who believed in him, who supported him. Harry looked at the kitchen, and then up the rickety staircase, wondering if Ron and Ginny knew he was here.
Harry climbed up the stairs, past the decapitated house elves' heads that were mounted on the wall, and walked towards the familiar room that he had shared with Ron last summer.
"Harry! We were wondering if you were here, mate!" Ron stood up from from the floor, grinning at Harry. "When'd you get here? Hermione's supposed to come too - Lupin just went off to pick her up. Here, have a frog -" He handed Harry a chocolate, bouncing frog from a large tin plate. "Did Hagrid go and get you? What did your uncle and aunt do? Did Hagrid manage to turn Dudley into a pig at last?" Ron asked delightedly. He had met the Dursley's two summers ago, and, like all of the wizards and witches who had met Harry's muggle relatives, couldn't stand them.
Harry looked down at the chocolate frog, which was straining to escape from Harry's firm grip. I wonder if Dumbledore has told Ron and Hermione about the prophesy... He shook his head slightly, and answered, "Yes, nothing, they were scared stiff, and unfortunately, no," Harry grinned back. "Hey Ginny," Harry said, giving Ron's sister Ginny a small wave.
Ginny smiled, looking up from a copy of The Daily Prophet, the wizards' newspaper. "Hey Harry! Is Mum downstairs?" She glanced at Ron and continued, "Is she in a good mood?"
"Yeah, I guess..." Harry looked at them curiously. "Why?"
Ron rolled his eyes and laughed. Ginny stifled a giggle and looked at Harry. "Well, I guess she hasn't found out then...I mean, about Fred and George," She and Ron burst out laughing again.
"What's happened?" Harry asked. The Weasley twins were famous for their many ways of getting in trouble.
"Do you remember last year when they set off those fireworks at Hogwarts?" Ginny said, giggling.
Harry smiled reminiscently and nodded. "Well, since they used all their batch, they had to make new ones all summer, and they've accidentally set them off in Mum and Dad's bedroom across the hall. They're hiding in the basement right now."
Harry strained to hear something, but the house was quiet. "I don't hear anything," he said.
"That's the thing - you can't hear these; they just blow up and destroy everything without making any sound. Quite brilliant, actually - I bought some already, because the gits wouldn't give their brother any for free," Ron said disgruntedly, pulling out another chocolate frog. He suddenly glanced at the open doorway. "Hey, did you hear that? I bet everyone's here!"
Harry heard some people talking downstairs, suddenly feeling anxious. What if everyone thought he really was a walking deathcase?
"Come on, Harry! I smell Mum's dinner from here - I'm starving!" With that, Ron hurried downstairs.
Ginny turned around, looking concernedly at Harry. "Coming, Harry?" Harry bit his lip and nodded, standing up to follow them.
They stomped down the stairs, delicious smells of pot roast and baked potatoes swaying in from the kitchen. Harry looked over Ron's towering red head, which seemed to have grown a couple more inches this summer. Lupin had just brought in Hermione's enormous trunk, and looked up at Harry, his gray eyes clouded. He gave his melancholy smile and greeted everyone, glancing at him again.
"Hello Harry," Lupin set down the trunk and gave Harry a half hug, holding on to him longer than before.
Just then Hermione burst in, clutching a bright orange nest, which, when Harry looked closer, was a squirming Crookshanks. "Oh, it's awfully hot out there, poor Crookshanks can't stand the heat...hello everyone! Ron, you have chocolate on your mouth - "
Ron quickly swiped his mouth, looking annoyed. "Can't you just say hello sometimes?" he asked, but he had a grin on his face.
"Harry, how are you doing? Hey Ginny! Oh no, Crookshanks - no, Crookshanks!" For the ginger cat had just leaped from Hermione's arms and swiped at the red curtain hanging on the wall.
"Wait, isn't that..." Harry slowly said, and automatically put his hands over his ears. Last year the curtain had hid the horrendous and wailing portrait of Sirius's mum, who had shouted curses and insults at anyone who dared pass her portrait, bemoaning the tainted condition of her house.
Ron laughed and pushed Harry's hands off his ears. "Nah, she doesn't do that anymore, thanks to Dumbledore. Guess he got tired of her too and put some sort of spell on her or something to make her shut up."
Thinking of Mrs. Black's portrait reminded Harry of another members of the Black family, one that filled Harry with a small knot of anger. "Is Kreacher still here?" Harry asked Ron tensely.
"Erm..no," Ron replied awkwardly. "Dumbledore did something about him, too - said that he's going to be somewhere where he can't hurt the Order, since he has no master now..." Ron hastily looked into the kitchen and called out, "Oy, Mum! Is the food ready yet?"
Mrs. Weasley came out and looked sternly at Ron. "Yes, but you're not to touch a bit of it until everyone is here. Remeus, how did it go?" While Mrs. Weasley and Lupin were talking, Harry saw Hedwig perched on the armchair in the parlor. He walked over to her, surprised.
"How did you get here, huh?" He stroked her soft plumes, suddenly remembering what had happened over the summer.
Maybe I should tell them...I should be the one to do it anyway, instead of Dumbledore or someone else... Ron and Hermione followed him inside the parlor. Harry turned to them and swallowed, his green eyes bright. "Hey, close the doors - I need to tell you what happened..."
Hermione raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms expectantly; Ron looked wary and said, "Whenever you have that look Harry, I know something bad is about to happen...but anyway, what it is it?"
Harry smiled uneasily. He avoided their eyes, saying, "Well, I guess you're not too far from the truth - " and he told them about what the prophecy had foretold and what Dumbledore had said afterwards. Harry stuttered as he began, his dread of his friends' expressions when hearing what the prophecy contained growing larger and larger with each word. But when he had ran through everything that he remembered of that terrible day, Harry felt blissfully empty, as though a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, a weight that he never realized he had carried.
When Harry finished he glanced up to see that Hermione had turned a ghastly pale; Ron's mouth had formed a small o, his ears very red in his anxiety.
"H - Harry..." Ron stammered, running his hands over his face shakily. "Why didn't you tell us this before?"
"I just can't - can't believe it...'Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives'...neither can..live! Harry, this was talking about you?!" Hermione gasped, turning grayer and falling down on a dusty armchair.
"Yeah, that's what Dumbledore said anyway," said Harry. He suddenly remembered his intercepted letter, but pushed it away from his mind. He would tell that to Lupin or someone else; this was bad enough. He leaned on the mantlepiece and looked up at them. "Look, I - I know that I should've told you, but I kind of wanted to be alone for awhile. I didn't even want to come here."
"You didn't want to leave the Dursleys? Why?" Ron said distractedly, giving Harry a confused look. Hermione kept staring into space, her face ashen.
"I just didn't want to face anyone, especially everyone here - no offense or anything - " Harry added quickly, "But...well anyway, there it is I guess," he finished awkwardly, rubbing the back of his mussed black hair.
Ron looked over at Hermione. "So what do you think of this?" Hermione kept staring at the wall.
"Hermione, are you okay? Hermione?" Ron gently shook her. "Reckon we should give her a slap?" he asked Harry.
Hermione gave Ron an annoyed look and took a deep breath, as though she were trying to hold herself back. She looked up at Harry and then at her hands. "Harry, I really don't know what to say...But, are you sure...?"
"Yeah, I heard it myself. Besides, Dumbledore even agreed with it..." said Harry glumly.
"But wait! Dumbledore said Neville was born the same day as you, right Harry? So it could be Neville..." Ron said wildly, but red quickly spread from his ears to his face. "Neville..."
"Is that better? " spat Hermione.
"No," Ron snapped, then glanced up at Harry. "I know it doesn't sound right - I don't want Neville to...but I'd rather have Harry than Neville - you would too Hermione..." Ron said quietly.
Hermione looked at Ron, tears spreading to her eyes. "Well...but it did say, right Harry, that 'the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal'...right?" Hermione's eyes drifted to Harry's scar, but quickly looking away.
Ron's blue eyes gazed at the lightning-bolt shaped scar too and he gulped. "Maybe there's another way that You-Know-Who marked Neville...or maybe you and Neville aren't the only ones that were born that day, Harry!"
Harry sighed. He knew that they were going to be like this. "Look, I know you're trying to deny it, but stop. It's true - it's all true; Voldemort -" Ron winced and Hermione frowned at Ron - "Voldemort gave me this scar...it's what convinced me, at least. I just have to accept it," Like everything else that's my fault.
"What else is your fault?" Ron asked Harry, raising an eyebrow.
Harry's head snapped up. "You heard me?"
"Well, yeah...didn't you, Hermione?" Ron asked. Hermione nodded, watching Harry sympathetically.
"You're not blaming yourself for Sirius, are you Harry?" Ron said, looking at him knowingly.
Harry looked away. "So, that's all I really wanted to say...we better go to the kitchen - I can hear your mum yelling now..." Harry said shortly, and walked out of the parlor.
Hermione cast Ron a scathing look. "How could you Ron? Can't you see..." She nodded her head towards the hallway, biting her lip.
Ron sighed and looked down the hallway and at Harry's retreating figure as well. "What doesn't happen to Harry, Hermione?"
Supper had smelled delicious when Harry had arrived, but when he went to the table and began to eat, he couldn't taste a bit. Ron was avoiding his eyes, but gave Harry a half distressed and half shocked face when he thought Harry wasn't looking at him. Hermione, meanwhile, was playing with her food, occassionally giving a great sniff.
"Well, what's the matter with you lot? Is the pot roast rotten? Don't the potatoes have enough salt? Oh, I swear, we really do need another salt shaker...the other one keeps spitting out the salt..." Mrs. Weasley tasted the potatoes and looked around at Harry, Hermione and Ron.
"I know you all must want Lupin and Hagrid to be here, but they went to join the others. They should all be back tonight. Come on, eat up! You all must be starving," She cast a keen look around the kitchen and into the hallway. "By the way, have you seen Fred and George? And Ginny? I told them to come eat half and hour ago...GINNY!! FRED! GEORGE! GET DOWN HERE!" Mrs. Weasley left and they heard her climb up the stairs. "IF YOU LOT DON'T COME HERE, IT WON'T BE MY FAULT IF YOU END UP LIKE THOSE MOUNTED HOUSE ELVES!"
Harry looked down at his plate, surprised that it was empty. He felt like he hadn't eaten anything. He watched Ron and Hermione play with their food, Hermione still sniffing loudly. They can't be like this...
"Look, I'm not dead yet!" Harry burst out. Hermione stopped sniffing and looked up.
"Don't mourn me now, okay? Anyway, the prophecy didn't say I would die, did it? I escaped Voldemort five times, right? Besides, what's really important is what the rest of the prophecy said: 'But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not', remember?"
Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then at Harry, Hermione giving him a brave, watery smile, Ron grinning. "You're right Harry," he said.
"You know what? I bet Dumbledore knows. Maybe that's why the others are gone right now...maybe they're searching for that power of yours, Harry!" Hermione said thoughtfully.
"Yeah, if Dumbledore knows about it, You-know-who won't stand a chance!" Ron exclaimed.
"Honestly, Ron, don't you think you've been through enough to say his name?" Hermione said exasperatedly.
Ron ignored her and went on. "Wonder what it is...bet it's huge - or maybe some worse Dark Magic spell, Harry..."
"Isn't Voldemort the greatest Dark wizard though? I mean, I would think he
knows every Dark Magic there is...Dumbledore said something about Voldemort using an ancient Dark Art to come back in our fourth year..." said Harry, relieved that Hermione and Ron had cheered up a bit.
Ron shrugged and played with his food, thinking. Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Maybe it's not a spell then. Voldemort pretty much knows all the Dark Magic spells, like Harry said...I wonder if it's something that we saw at the Department of Mysteries?"
Ignoring the familiar leaden feeling in the pit of his stomach at the mention of the Department of Mysteries, Harry said, "Mrs. Weasley told me Dumbledore and Lupin want to talk with me. Do you think they want to tell me about this?"
"Lupin did say he wanted to speak to you, but he told me on the way here that he wanted to speak to me and Ron too," Hermione said.
Ron's head shot up. "Us? How come?"
Suddenly the front door opened. They all turned around to see Dumbledore, soaken wet in a burgundy traveling cloak.
"Ah, so you all have arrived. Right on schedule," Dumbledore looked at a large pocket watch and smiled at them.
"Albus! You're wet through! Here let me get that - " Mrs. Weasley had run in from upstairs and hurried to Dumbledore. She raised a small mahogany wand, murmered something, and instantly Dumbledore's cloak and robes were dry.
"Thank you Molly. That was most refreshing - " Dumbledore began.
"Let me get you some food. You must be starving! Where are the others?" Mrs. Weasley went to set up a large dish laden with pot roast, baked potatoe and treacle pudding, casting Dumbledore a worried look.
"They're all very well and on their way. I just thought to come before them to" - Dumbledore gave Harry, Ron and Hermione a searching look -"set some affairs in order. Thank you Molly..." Mrs. Weasley had set down a mounting plate of steaming food and put a blanket around Dumbledore's shoulders.
"Well, I'll be right down then. I'm still looking for those children...oh, where have they gone? They better have not set those darn things off again..." Mrs. Weasley growled, stomping up the stairs.
Dumbledore chuckled and gently took off the blanket, setting it on a chair. He then looked at the each of them in turn, his usually bright blue eyes dark and clouded.
"We must get down to business before the others arrive. I want this to be private until...well, until everyone is ready for it, I suppose. Mrs. Weasley or Lupin must have told you I wanted to speak with you?" Dumbledore asked them.
"Yes, Professor," Harry said. He had never seen Dumbledore look so old; his face was pale and haggard, his eyes tired and sad. Then again, Harry supposed he didn't look the same as before either.
Hermione must have seen this too, because she asked Dumbledore if anything was wrong.
"Nothing that I haven't expected Ms. Granger..." Dumbledore said. He sat down wearily, put the tips of his long fingers together, and looked at each of them appraisingly.
"I must speak with you all of an important matter. Due to what has happened a few months ago" He glanced at Harry and continued, "I believe it is your right to know what has been going on in our battle against Voldemort, especially since he has gained enormous power in these recent weeks, and everyone now realizes he has finally returned."
Ron leaned forward in chair. Hermione and Harry exchanged a look and stared at Dumbledore. Was he really going to tell them everything that had happened? But why now? Harry wondered.
"But first, I want to know whether you all would consider..." Dumbledore looked at them over his half-moon shaped spectacles.
Hermione gripped the edge of table excitedly.
"...joining the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said.
Ron's jaw dropped.