SUMMARY- Confined to the Hospital Wing after the night in the Department of Mysteries, Harry has a series of dreams that lead him to make a choice between trusting his friends, or Dumbledore and the Order.
Up to their necks in the oncoming war and hitting walls with all of the adults in their lives The Ministry Six, aided by a spell from Luna, an unexpected surprise from Sirius, and their contacts in the D.A., begin their own training and preparation for the oncoming war.
But when their response to a Death Eater attack on Hogsmeade surprises not only Voldemort, but the Order as well, the real confrontation begins As Order invitations are declined, a drastic plan by Mrs. Weasley is thwarted, and Dumbledore and the Order are forced to reevaluate everything they thought they knew.
DISCLAIMER- Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. I am forever in debt to J.K. Rowling for creating such a wonderful world to play in.
DEDICATION- This story is dedicated to Donnamarie Plum. My Teacher. My Mother. My Friend. Taken suddenly fifteen years ago. I still miss her everyday.
AN- This story starts following the night of the trip to the Department of Mysteries in the Order of the Phoenix. It may or may not contain events from The Half Blood Prince and The Deathly Hallows.
I don't know who coined the phrase 'The Ministry Six', but it was not I. Credit goes to whom it is due.
Parts of this chapter are taken directly from The Order of the Phoenix by our lovely Ms Rowling.
Many thanks go to my beta Amber. Without her work this story would be a lot more incomprehensible.
Chapter 1- To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
It was 2am, more than a week after the trip to the Ministry, and Harry Potter was the only one awake in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts School. He was restless, quietly pacing the floor between the two rows of beds- Beds filled with friends who were here because of him. The five of them had followed him to the Ministry of Magic, and right into a trap.
He hated staying in the Hospital Wing but Madam Pomfrey refused to release any of them. Professor McGonagall had been summoned when Harry had gotten into an argument with the Matron five days ago. Within 10 minutes of each other both Madam Pomfrey and Mrs. Weasley, who was visiting, had insisted he take some Dreamless Sleep Potion for his own good and it had pushed Harry over the edge. He refused to take any more potions, sick of everyone else thinking they knew what was best for him. He wanted everybody to leave him alone and he wanted out of the Hospital Wing. Professor McGonagall had come down and insisted he stay but told him he didn't have to take any potions if he didn't want to.
Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville, all veterans at reading his moods, left him his space, only speaking to him if he started the conversation. Luna, either taking her cue from the others or driven by her own knowledge, didn't speak to him beyond telling him that she knew what she was doing by coming with him to the Ministry and the outcome of that night, had she not come along, was unacceptable. Harry was left to wonder if she somehow did know what would have happened had she been left behind, and what it was that was so unacceptable, but she declined to say anything further to him, or Hermione, who took up the line of questioning after he had conceded it pointless to keep asking.
No longer on the Dreamless Sleep Potion, he had expected to have nightmares. He normally had nightmares anyway and after what had happen he was expecting it, but so far he had only experienced some very odd dreams.
He was standing at the edge of a ravine, clouds swirled overhead and the wind whipped around him. He looked down into the blackness. It seemed to go on forever, a bottomless pit. Behind him stretched a long road. He turned his back on the ravine as something drew him to walk down the road instead.
His feet hurt and he was getting frustrated at the empty, seemingly endless road when he saw Ron waiting for him. Harry smiled and waved as he hurried to his side. Ron waved and smiled back. Harry stopped suddenly and gasped in surprise. There was something in Ron's face, in his eyes that shocked Harry. He could see it. Power. Great power. It was hidden just below the surface. A slow smoldering that would only take a spark to ignite the inferno. They walked on together in silence, Harry lost in thought.
Around a bend in the road stood Hermione. Ron jogged forward and swept her up, twirling her around in his arms. She threw her head back and laughed, and Harry's heart skipped a beat. She was beautiful. Her hair shone in the sunlight, a rich golden brown. Her eyes danced with intelligence and friendship when she smiled at him. She was trim and had developed curves in the right places when he wasn't looking. She linked arms with him and Ron and the three of them continued down the road together.
Harry was somehow not surprised to see Neville ahead of them. Again he did a double take: Gone was the stuttering little boy that Snape loved to torment. Everyone had noticed the slightly alarming change that Bellatrix Lestrange's escape had wrought in Neville, but this! He stood tall and proud, radiating confidence, the steely glint in his eye making Harry look deeper. Here too he could see power smoldering! The four of them continued down the road, Harry moving at a slightly faster pace now, anxious to see who was next.
It was Ginny. She ran towards them smiling. Harry's heart skipped again. Her long hair flying behind her seemed to glitter in the sunlight, her eyes dancing with intelligence and mischief as she hugged her brother. She had developed curves when he had not been looking as well, though she was thinner and more athletic-looking than Hermione. He could see the shadow of darkness he knew was from her own encounter with Voldemort, but it was hidden deep and almost blotted out by the power she radiated. There was too much of it to stay hidden, and she nearly glowed with it.
Well, that just leaves Luna, he thought as he saw her come skipping around the next corner, her too with eyes shining and smiling brightly, so unlike her normal image of vague interest. She looked at him with her eyes slightly unfocused as usual, as if her mind was off elsewhere. Then she pinned him in her gaze and his world tilted. He would have fallen if Ron and Neville had not grabbed him. She had power, too. A power that most couldn't handle, and she knew it. Her eyes unfocused again, releasing his gaze; she hid it on purpose he realized, she had to.
He walked slightly behind, pondering the power he saw in them. Did everyone have a greater power in them? Did he? Ginny had somehow tapped into hers and it was out there for anyone to see, and he wondered how he had never noticed it. He understood that Luna's was dangerous and was concealed by choice. Ron, Neville, and Hermione too had it, smoldering just below the surface, awaiting a spark to ignite the inferno. He wondered what that spark might be?
They came to the end of the road where a small house stood in a clearing of trees. There was a single main room, and there was nothing inside but mirrors covering the walls. All he could see was reflections of himself and his friends, reflections of reflections. He stared at the six of them. The way they carried themselves seemed different than he recalled. There was a hard, firm look in their eyes, and they all seemed to radiate confidence and strength. Ron and Neville stood beside him, the three of them all broad shoulders and hard angles; Hermione, Ginny, and Luna all soft skin and graceful curves. He was surprised he didn't walk around crashing into walls. He was obviously blind. He had never noticed before, how much they had grown up.
He spent a great deal of time staring at them all the next day and found to his surprise the same conclusion he had been shown in his dream. Mere teenagers they may be, but they worry over the oncoming war and for friends and family, and being put into life threatening situations had aged them prematurely.
He stood in the mirror chamber in his first year, only this time Ron and Hermione were by his side and face to face with Voldemort. But, when Quirell reached for him this time, a force swept him up and he landed in his bedroom on Privet Drive, leaving Ron and Hermione there alone. "Stay safe till it is your time," commanded a voice on the wind, and it sounded like Professor Moody. He banged on the locked door. He had to get back, he had to help them, and then his scar burned and he knew he was too late to help Hermione.
He was in the Chamber of Secrets his second year, running towards the small black robed figure at the feet of the statue. He slipped and fell, landing on his bed on Privet Drive once more. "It is not your time yet, you are too young," said a voice on the wind.It sounded like Mrs. Weasley this time. His scar burned in pain, his eyes filled with tears, and he knew Ginny had not survived.
He stood on the Hogwarts grounds with Ron and Neville. The Grim dragged Ron off to the lake while he and Snape watched, and the Dementors swarmed down on them. Harry shivered as the cold penetrated his soul, his eyes closed and the voice spoke again. "It is too dangerous here, you must stay safe until it is the right time." Kingsley, he thought. His eyes snapped open and he was again locked up on Privet Drive, Ron far beyond his help.
He was in the graveyard. Again face to face with Voldemort, but he was drained of hope and too tired to fight. Voldemort shot the Killing Curse at him and Luna appeared out of nowhere and stepped in its path. "Things must proceed as fate dictates. Only you can save us all," she said before she fell. Harry drew his wand, only to be swept off again to Privet Drive, his scar blazing, as the voice (Dumbledore?) echoed Luna's words "Only you can save us all. But you must stay safe until I tell you it is your time to fight."
He was in the Death Chamber with Neville, before the veil. The Order had arrived and so had Voldemort: he stood facing Harry, laughing. He cast a Jelly Legs Jinx, as if Harry was not even worthy of the effort, and he was swept away again to Privet Drive; he hadn't even a chance to draw his wand. He lay on his bed, his scar burning, as Voldemort killed Neville and the all the Order members. This time the voice said nothing.
He was once again in the Death Chamber, but he looked old, so much older than he knew he was. "This is it," said the voice. "Now is the time to fulfill your purpose." The stone benches were filled with people who had come to watch, Order members, and Ministry employees. "What are you waiting for?" asked the voice. "Go ahead and kill him. I told you to do it now," it demanded. Harry stared blankly as Voldemort walked along the benches killing everyone there, laughing at Harry all the while. "I have protected you all these years so you could kill him when I told you to, now do it," the voice said.
Harry looked at all of the people just sitting on the benches waiting for Voldemort to kill them. "What if I don't want to do this?" he asked.
"This is the only reason you were born. Now get on with it." The voice demanded. Harry glanced behind him at the fluttering black veil. He thought back on all his friends who had been killed when they shouldn't have been. Hermione was fine after first year, Ginny had lived after the Chamber of Secrets, and Ron and Luna and Neville should all have survived. But they were all gone. He could hear their voices behind the veil. They were all together and he wanted to join them. He missed his friends. "The Prophecy didn't say you needed friends. Stop being so stupid. Kill Voldemort, and hurry up." He turned to the swaying black veil. Let them all fend for themselves, he thought as he stepped through to the other side.
He woke up seething in anger. He was no one's tool to be used, kept locked away till they decided it was time. He knew it was only a dream, but it hit much too close to how he was feeling now. He had lost too many people he loved in the effort to keep him safe. He wasn't a child to be kept sheltered. He was to be a main player in this war, whether they liked it or not. He was much more capable than any of them, and after breaking into the Ministry of Magic and fighting Death Eaters, it appeared his friends were as well.
He stood before a large screen much like a Muggle telly. The screen was divided down the center. On one side memories played, and he watched Mrs. Weasley fuss over him, Ron, Ginny, and the twins. He saw himself pacing in frustration on Privet Drive with no information, cut off from the Wizarding world. Madam Pomfrey was pushing potions on him and his friends. Mrs. Weasley was pushing food on them. Dumbledore sat before him, admitting that if he had told Harry about the Prophecy sooner, Sirius could still be alive. He saw Sirius' head in the fire telling Ron that Mrs. Weasley expressly forbid him from joining the DA; they were being forced out of the kitchen for yet another Order meeting and told to go to bed as someone cast an Imperturbable Charm on the door.
The other side of the screen was also playing memories, and he watched himself and Ron rescue Hermione from the troll on his first Halloween at Hogwarts. Followed by the three of them and Neville in front of Fluffy the night they found themselves in the third floor corridor, and he watched through all his years at Hogwarts, all the way through to the night in the Department of Mysteries. It was odd to only watch it from the outside, but one thing was painfully clear from this perspective: He had nearly died on more than one of those occasions.
The morning found him deep in introspection. Facing death apparently had an abrupt way of reshuffling one's priorities. He felt unshakable faith and assurance in his friends, but crumbling trust in the adults in his life. No matter the precautions, trouble always seemed to find him and his friends anyway. As safe as everyone said Hogwarts was, that didn't change the facts. He sat, turning everything over and over in his mind till night fell again and he slept uneasily once more. This time he did dream of Sirius.
He found himself in an almost empty room, large enough that he could not see the outer edges in the dim firelight. Sirius was sitting in a chair in front of the fire, an aggravated expression on his face as he beckoned Harry to the chair next to him.
It was a rare chance to talk, and so they did. They discussed everything, from Sirius' death to Harry's future. Hitting on Harry's guilt over Sirius' death and the injuries to his friends, Sirius' recklessness, Harry's recklessness, his temper and tendency to let his emotions overrule his judgment. His 'saving people thing', as Hermione called it.
Eventually Sirius got through to Harry and convinced him that his friends knew what they were doing standing by him and that they would probably continue to do so, regardless of anything else. That, if he tried to push them away after all they had been through, it would not only prove to be an exercise in futility, but it would also cause great stress and hurt feelings where they weren't needed. And finally, the fact that Sirius' death was in no way his fault and he, Sirius, was happier now instead of as a prisoner in Grimmauld Place.
They both had a long list of grievances with Dumbledore. Harry's topped with his part in Sirius' death. Sirius' was with the way Dumbledore had been treating Harry, pushing him off to the side with no information to keep him safe. Harry was not happy with this either, but it wasn't just Dumbledore, it was everyone. The stupid Prophecy put Harry smack in the middle of this war and nobody seemed to think he needed any information. They all continued to refuse to look past his age. Sirius smiled at that but did not comment. What really surprised Sirius was Harry pointing out that nobody was even giving him any training to prepare him for his inevitable confrontation with Voldemort.
This brought Harry to the dream he had had about the voices interfering in his life. They discussed all of his recent dreams and the troubling conclusion Harry made that maybe the adults in his life were no longer acting in his best interest. Sirius had suggested that him turning his back on them to join his friends beyond the Veil meant just that: let the adults have their groups and secrets; pull together his friends-'The Ministry Six', Harry laughed at the phrase, - and his D. A., and make their own plans.
Sirius smiled as he watched that idea take hold in Harry's mind, he could see it light the fire in his eyes. He was off, discussing the changes that he wanted and needed to make in his life and how to do it. They argued and joked, cried and laughed, grieved and planned. That night marked a turning point in Harry's life as he made that major choice, the ramifications of which were destined to surprise nearly everyone.
It had seemed too odd to be a dream. It had seemed that they talked for hours, and perhaps they had, for when he finally woke up, it was time for dinner. He actually felt really good after his talk with Sirius. He felt better about his godfather's loss, able to look back on his memory and smile. He knew that Sirius was happy now and that he was together with James. He would never tell anyone about this dream, knowing they would merely say it was just a part of his own mind and not to be taken seriously. But in his heart he knew it to be more than that. It was a gift for him, a chance for them to talk everything over, and a chance to say good-bye.
This night found Harry pacing the floor in the early morning hours, reflecting again on the trip to the Department of Mysteries. He stood at the end of Hermione's bed. She had tried to talk some sense into him, but he had refused to listen to her, letting his emotions overrule his judgment. His 'saving people thing', she had called it, and she was right, like always. The curse Dolohov had used on her, though less effective than it would have been had he been able to say the incantation aloud, had nevertheless caused, in Madam Pomfrey's words, " quite enough damage to be going on with." Hermione had to take ten different types of potions every day and although she was improving greatly she, like him, was tired of the Hospital Wing.
Across the room from her Ron was snoring loudly. He had also been hit with a spell; it had caused him to behave strangely and to summon a brain from a large tank, which had then attacked him. There were still deep welts on his forearms where the brain's tentacles had wrapped around him. According to Madam Pomfrey, thoughts could leave deeper scaring then almost anything else. Didn't Harry know it? Though since she had started applying copious amounts of Dr Ubbly's Oblivious Unction, there seemed to be some improvement.
Next to Ron, Neville was also snoring away. He had come along with them to rescue someone he didn't even know just to help Harry. He had broken his father's wand and his nose. Surprisingly, that did not stop him from continuing to fight the Death Eaters. He took a Cruciatus Curse that night and Harry knew personally the effects that had. Harry knew Neville had changed a lot this year but he had not noticed just how much. He, like the rest of them, had grown up. Harry was very impressed and very proud to call him a friend.
Ginny was in the bed across from Neville; a Reductor Curse had broken her ankle. Madam Pomfrey had fixed it in a trice. Harry stood at the foot of her bed. He was mesmerized. She looked like an angel. Her hair spread in waves across the pillow set aglow by the moonlight, her skin luminous, and her face serene in sleep. She was enchanting. He was still unable to figure out where he had been when the girls had gone and gotten gorgeous, and how come he hadn't noticed. He pulled himself away, shaking his head slightly; she was Ron's sister, and she was his friend.
Truth be told, she was not even a close friend. At least she hadn't been. Neither had Neville or Luna, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione had learned in their first year that there are some things that you can't go through and not become good friends. Knocking out a mountain troll was probably right up there with breaking into the Ministry of Magic and battling Death Eaters. He had the feeling they would all emerge closer after this.
Luna was in the bed next to Ginny and making a funny snuffling noise as she slept. It was so Luna. She behaved so odd most of the time, but Harry found her strangely perceptive. He had thought maybe her whimsical take on the world allowed her to see things most people missed. But he now knew it was just an image she cultivated to protect others from the power she held. Like Harry, she had been relatively uninjured, and Dumbledore had said none of them would suffer any lasting damage, but Madam Pomfrey had insisted on keeping all six of them in the Hospital Wing until the end of term.
Harry had the bed across from Luna. Hedwig sat on the headboard watching him pace. She had glided in when they returned the first night and perched on his bed, sensing that her master needed her. She had refused to be removed, biting both Madam Pomfrey and Mrs. Weasley. She would not even leave to hunt. And when she dodged a spell shot by the matron Harry had found himself with his wand in his hand, insisting they leave her alone. So she watched over him, and he felt better having her there.
He was again turning over everything in his mind, debating everything he knew and all he had learned in the past week. He was lying awake on his bed when dawn broke and a group of house elves delivered their trunks. They were heading home today. He fetched some parchment and ink from his trunk. It was time to start making some plans.