Disclaimer: All aspects of the Harry Potter universe belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers Entertainment. I shamelessly twist, bend, and snap this universe to suit my own needs.
Summary: Harry recognized the need for the DA in his first year rather than his fifth. With a group of powerful friends, unexpected allies, and the planning to overcome age old enemies and meddling Headmasters as well, can these students traverse the dangerous halls of Hogwarts and the world outside of them? Can they defeat the Dark Lord and his followers while fighting for communal reform?
Soon, the students left Hogwarts for the summer.
On the platform, Ron slipped away with the Weasley's after a brief goodbye to his friends. Harry and Hermione promised to see him within a couple days. If Ron's grip on Hermione's waist during their goodbye hug was a little too tight before he pulled away, Harry pretended not to notice for the sake of his two painfully slow friends.
Hermione had told her parents that she was staying with the Weasley's but that she'd be coming to see them on the weekend. Their practice was terribly busy, school having just let out, and they were fine with that.
"Dumbledore's going to be in a state when he finds out you're gone," Hermione muttered as they maneuvered their way through the muggle portion of King's Cross. Harry was doing his level best to avoid the Dursley's, of course.
"Let him rot,"
"Harry," she said scoldingly.
"Let him rot in hell," Harry corrected.
"Much better," she said, satisfied.
Ever since Hermione had found out that the Dursley's had abused Harry and Dumbledore had known about it, her attitude towards the man changed completely. Not outwardly, of course, but in private her friends were shocked by her vitriol.
"I don't really care what the old codger thinks anyways," Harry waved off. "We need to get to Gringotts — they told me they'd be happy to see me at the earliest convenience,"
"Like they'll be happy to see anyone," she muttered.
The unfriendly little creatures had slighted her by refusing many of her inquiries about their species, culture, social habits, and mating customs. Granted, the last question had been taking it a bit too far…
"Do you have the books with you?" Harry asked. "In case they contest my right to claim the lines? Can't they do that?"
"They can but they won't — the goblins are good at their job, they know it's all proper."
"And you've preordered the proper rings and amulets for everyone?"
"All you have to do is pay by direct deposit and they'll be shipped to us by morning. Then I'll make a few minor adjustments for the portkey locations, finish making the last journals, and we can begin the rest of our plans. Taxi!"
The goblins were, indeed, happy to see Harry. He was now easily one of their wealthiest clients.
"The first thing I'd like is a complete overhaul of every vault's security. Every old key needs to be recalled," he had began. "While you're in there, you can see to removing every goblin made item that rightfully belongs to Gringotts."
After Harry and finished shocking the bankers, Hermione had gotten to business.
As per Harry's instructions, five different companies were set up under various names. Twenty different muggle safe houses were purchased all across the UK under the names of those companies. They were all innocuous, simple affairs.
Then, Hermione surprised him by pushing a real estate listing across the table to the new Potter-Black estate manager, Riptuck.
"You want to purchase this, Lord Potter?"
Harry peered at the listing then looked at Hermione incredulously.
"Yes, it's a castle on a Scottish island," she answered. "But it's got it's own water and electricity and the goblins can make sure the entire power grid works with magic. It'll be perfectly unplottable and will hold a fidelius. It's also got more than 80 bedrooms — more than enough for everyone. None of your other properties will be suitable,"
"You haven't even looked at all my properties,"
"They're associated with your name or bound to be too small," the normally logical girl sniffed.
She'd check the listings later but, to be frank, she had her eye on this one. The library was just perfect and huge with a northward exposure that didn't expose the books to too much direct sunlight.
"Buy it," Harry said with a sigh as soon as he saw the gleam in her eye. He knew exactly what that meant. "Now, each muggle house needs to be fully stocked with potions and food that keep."
"A safe house network, I presume?"
Harry confirmed the goblins question, knowing he had no reason to distrust his account manager.
"Assigning one house elf per two houses assures their maintenance,"
"Not a bad suggestion," Harry agreed, turning to look at Harry. "Although now we need house elves,"
"Here," the goblin handed them a file. It contained the name, ages, and general condition of houselves for auction.
"This is how people buy houselves?" he asked, somewhat disgusted.
"Correct," Riptuck confirmed. "There are currently 21 on auction — the starting price at auction is far lower."
"No need," Harry growled. "I want them all. Ten of them can look after the safe houses, ten of them can look after this new castle, and one of them can look after the cathedral."
"What- Harry, that is not-"
"You wanted a castle and I can't hire human maids, Hermione. We also don't know anyone who can look after a bunch of empty houses full time."
She looked miffed but swallowed her complaints. She'd have a long talk with him about proper house elf treatment.
"Now that that's settled," Harry finished primly, looking towards the goblin.
"Come back in two days," he directed grumpily.
It only took a week for everything to finalize with the bank — Harry was, indeed, the heir of Gryffindor. The 700,000 galleon debt associated with the account explained why most Potters never took the title. The Gryffindor lords ring was also quite picky, something to do with ability to support Hogwarts wards but Harry had no problem slipping the bulky gold and ruby thing on.
Surprisingly enough, he had also turned out to be Lord Ravenborough. The title came with a Wizengamot seat and some sort of historical nature preserve called Socotra Island in Yemen, of all places. There was very little gold but Harry had interesting plans for the title.
As for the Gryffindor debt…well, Harry happily sunk half of the LeStrange fortune into that. He'd been able to claim that with the Black lordship passed on to him by Sirius. Since Bellatrix, her husband, and the only other eligible lord for the direct LeStrange line had been criminally convicted, Bellatrix's vault had been returned to the Black family. Apparently, the LeStrange's kept most of their money in the vault that came with her dowry since it was deeper into the bank than the LeStrange family vault. That left Harry with most of their fortune.
"Now," Riptuck had told them. "The Hufflepuff line died out in the fifties. The Slytherin line died out in the 80's, though, in accordance with the Hogwarts charter the founding four agreed to bind their families to, you have received Slytherin's share of Hogwarts under right of conquest. You will not receive the vaults."
"I thought the Dark Lord was the Slytherin heir?"
"He died in the 80's."
"But he's back now,"
"With an artificial body."
"And Ravenclaw?"
"Ravenclaw's line is lost,"
"So there's still a Ravenclaw heir somewhere?"
"Correct,"
"What does that mean for me?"
"It means, regardless of the status of the Ravenclaw title, you have considerable boons of allowances related to your title and some degree of control over the castle. There's a book in the vaults,"
Harry looked at Hermione, knowing the book would be her deal.
"The property sale is finalized but unwarded — would you like the goblins to begin?"
"Yes please," Harry agreed. "Ward the new castle Hermione insisted on. Not like this Socotra Island place, a Ravenborough property with no connection to my name, would have worked."
The girl shot him a look.
"The only buildings, large and impressive as they may be, are in a state of complete disrepair. It would take months of work even with magic to repair and furnish them properly because of the architectural style of the place,"
"Warding shall commence and be completed within three days," Riptuck declared once Harry had thrown up his hands and conceded defeat. "You'll need to name the castle,"
"Hermione," he gestured for her to take it away.
"What?"
"You wanted it, you name it,"
She glared. "Firewall."
"Firewall?"
"Well it's all red rock and reddish brick," she defended, glaring harder.
"What she said," he directed, deciding not to incite her ire any further.
The goblin filled in a few spaces on some parchment then pulled a scroll towards himself.
"A brief matter to settle; a debt to Gringotts for the sum of 57,840 galleons for 80 enchanted rings and 85,400 for 82 enchanted amulets hand crafted by the Madame herself,"
"Who's the Madame?" Harry asked, confused. "And why in the hell are they that expensive? And why's that a debt to Gringotts?"
Hermione smacked his shoulder hard.
"I asked you who I should get to enchant the rings and amulets, carefully explained the expense, and the options, and you said, and I quote, 'the best, of course. Drop my name, if you need to.'"
"You were lecturing, I didn't listen," Harry said before turning to Riptuck.
"Gringotts, on good faith," the words 'good faith' associated with a wizard seemed as foreign on the goblins tongue as they were to Harry's ears. "Bought the debt and collected the merchandise to make it immediately available."
"That was very kind,"
"Simply good business,"
"Right," Harry agreed. "Good business. Well, will the rest of the LeStrange vault cover that?"
"That'll be 143,350 with the Gringotts fee added — yes, it will cover the charge,"
"There we go then,"
"You may pick up the items from the antechamber off the main lobby," he waved off.
Hermione had visited her parents and explained vaguely the new but unknown danger in the magical world. They, after a short argument, accepted that she was better protected behind wards and they couldn't leave their practice for the next few weeks anyways.
So, when the goblins finished warding, Hermione and Harry visited the imposing property by portkey. The beach was rocky and too cold for swimming, Scottish to it's red sandstone bone, and the wards were practically thrumming.
The castle was a wide L shape connected in the middle by an expansive circular tower that acted as the grand high-ceilinged foyer. Each end of the castle had two identical towers (slightly taller than the center structure) that added a further four levels.
The castle's entry doors were handcrafted to match the circular curve of the wall and were ornate in their own right. Inside, a mahogany double grand staircase swept up the entire tower to connect the main four floors.
On the left curving portion of the wall were another set of towering double doors that led into the ballroom. There was a narrow sitting area and pseudo-balcony visible from the ground level on the second floor landing overlooking the ball room. Closest to the front door was a smaller but still large arching stone doorway. It led down a windowed hallway to the rest of the West Wing.
"This is ridiculous," Harry gaped, looking around. "It's much too big,"
"I looked over the plans, Harry," she waved off. "We'll just close off the upper floors and only use the greater castle. That leaves us with the main castle and the rest can be unsealed if we end up playing host."
He just sighed and shrugged.
"As soon as we can get Neville to visit, we can set the Fidelius," Hermione noted with satisfaction.
"You're sure you can do it?"
"This spell is just about pure power and repetition in a ritual circle. With you and Neville as the power and Ron to ground the spell, all I have to do is chant."
Hermione had been correct, in some respects.
The Fidelius had required Ron to channel exorbitant amounts of Harry and Neville's own magic and funnel it into the the spell. Before that could happen, however, Ron had to exhaust his own magic. Hermione had to keep the chant going for over thirty minutes and that did require a fair bit of magic on her own part. By the end of it, everyone was exhausted.
So exhausted, in fact, that all three boys passed out before Hermione, the secret keeper, could tell them the secret.
It had been a mess of confusion when they'd finally woken up.
Once they'd all heard the secret and gotten settled, the rushing began.
"Oh bloody hell," Ron cried, checking the time with his wand. Magic couldn't be detected behind fidelius, anyways. "Mum expected me back from town twenty minutes ago,"
"Hermione,"
Hermione, the most proficient with the portkey spell, tapped her wand to a clean hankie Ron offered her. She also handed him four brown paper wrapped packages.
"The portkey is to just behind the orchard," she informed him. "And give one of these to the twins and Ginny. I got all of yours ready first,"
"Will do."
"Think you'll make it past Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked.
"I'll tell mum I fell asleep," he waved off. "Feel like I got run over by a herd of hippogriffs anyways,"
Ron was pulled away with a dull flash of blue.
"What about you, Nev?" Harry asked, nudging the teenager.
Neville had bulked up an broadened too; most of the DA would find themselves more physically fit than their peers, in fact. That didn't make Neville any less exhausted by magical feats; the boy was slumped into the surprisingly comfortable armchair of the huge castles main sitting room.
"Huh?" he jerked up. "Oh, my Gran doesn't mind. I told her I was visiting Harry Potter,"
Hermione and Harry all stared incredulously.
"You told her the truth?"
"Well I told her she mustn't tell anyone," he defended. "Said he gave Dumbledore the slip — she loved it,"
Harry just shook his head.
"Here, Neville," Hermione said, pulling a brown wrapped package to the boy. One side was flat and the other was slightly lumpy.
He opened it and found the journal as well as two small velvet bags.
"Wow, these are really nice," Neville said as he gently pulled the black onyx ring and amulet from their bags. "And I can literally feel the magic." he peered at them closely. "Blimey, are these from the Madame?"
"They are," Hermione agreed. "The ring is the only one that could be charmed invisible; the amulet will have to be hidden under the shirt. If it's seen, it's seen."
"Chain's long enough," Neville agreed, immediately pulling the celtic shield amulet over his head and the ring onto his index finger. The thick banded Edena ring adjusted to his size easily.
"If you need to put out a distress signal, tap the stone on the ring to the stone on the amulet." Hermione told him. "The other instructions are on the first page of the journal. Also, those portkeys will work from within Hogwarts so the portkey location has been adjusted to the DA cathedral."
"Right, I'm off then," Neville said after a few more minutes of conversation. He had his Longbottom ring to portkey him home.
After he left, Hermione and Harry began talking to all of the new house-elves. The ten who'd been assigned to the safe houses would be at the castle with the other elves the majority of the times.
Once Hermione was assured that the elves were content with their new homes (the poor things didn't look like they knew what to do with themselves), they'd been given their first assignment. It had taken a direct order from Harry to get them to calm down and stop screaming about what a great master he was and listen to Hermione.
The exuberant creatures were given copies of the agreed upon contract and were asked to bring them to each member of the DA only when they were alone, give them the journal and jewelry package, then bring the signed copy back. It only took 2 days to get everyones signature. Six hours into day one, the house elves orders had been amended; only when they were alone and not in the loo. Still, it had all gone smoothly enough.
Sissy, a young and bashful elf, had been given a slip of parchment with the secret of Firewall castle written in Hermione's hand. The little thing looked like she wanted to faint when she'd been trusted with such an important secret which she diligently guarded and returned to Hermione after sharing it with each student.
As of now, there were 52 students (including himself) and Harry knew there were a few more that he might be able to recruit during the school year.
As soon as they had assembled all of the contracts, a copy was sent to Gringotts. Gringotts then securely delivered bank statements to their newest customers. Students or not, they were entitled to bank accounts private from their parents due to the employment clauses.
In addition to that, Harry had, rather morbidly, made sure that every new vault owner had to make a very basic will. For most, they left the contents of the vault to their family. Some left it to charities, some to Hogwarts.
It was daunting for the students, most of them children, to realize the purpose of the document and really think about why they might need it. At the end of the day, it didn't make a difference though. They were doing what they had to do — for Cedric, for their friends and family, and for their very future.
"Alright, you're packed and ready to go?" Harry asked Hermione, watching as she unshrunk (as she was supposed to have been in the muggle world) her trunk and adjusted Crookshank's basket.
"Yep," she agreed — Harry had told her that she needed to go stay with the Weasley's a week earlier than they'd expected. "You think Dumbledore's gonna figure out you're not at the Dursley's soon?"
"I just got a letter from Sirius; apparently by Friday they'll have a guard rotation on me. They weren't going to tell me but he thought it better that I know."
"And once they see that you're not there, they'll check my house,"
"And then your parents will know you haven't been with the Weasleys,"
"And then the Weasleys and Dumbledore will know that you haven't been with your parents," Harry finished. "So, bad all around."
"What else did Sirius say?"
"He didn't say much — apparently he wasn't supposed to tell me at all but he didn't want me to spot the watchers and get frightened."
"Right, well," she said, giving him a fierce hug. "You leave this castle as little as possible, you hear me?"
"I have a private meeting or two to attend as Lord Ravenborough," he told her. "But otherwise, I'll be here."
"You're going to use that title?" Hermione asked in a voice that clearly demanded to know why she hadn't been privy to those plans.
"Well, it's been dead for nearly a hundred years, right?" Harry asked. "And I already checked with the goblins — they gave me a full alias in the name of Reginald Ravenborough. It won't fool the goblins, of course, but I only need it to pass a few cursory inspections,"
"Harry James, what are you up to?"
"You're going to be late," he teased. "Weasley's expect you by floo. Be safe, alright?"
"You as well," she said forcefully, giving him a look that clearly said she expected to be brought up to speed and soon.
As soon as she got to the Weasleys, both she and Ron carefully but sadly mentioned that Harry hadn't answered any of their letters.
"That poor dear. I can only imagine what he's been going through," Molly Weasley had cried. "We'll make sure to owl him something extra nice for his birthday, won't we Ginny? We'll bake a cake and some treacle and you can write him a nice long letter,"
"I'm sure Harry would like that, mum," the young redhead had answered with a veiled eye roll, well past her Boy-Who-Lived crush.
"Now, children," Molly directed. "We're going to be staying somewhere else for the rest of the summer. The wards there will be much better. Professor Dumbledore will be coming to talk to everyone tonight."
And so, Hermione and all of the Weasley's were moved to 12 Grimmauld place.
Via the journal, Hermione had told Harry that they had been moved and were staying with Sirius in a place that they could not name. Helpfully, she'd told him the protections were remarkably similar to those around Firewall Island.
"I know where you're staying," he assured them. "I'm Lord Black — I can think the name of the place but I can't say it."
"Good," Hermione wrote. "Did you see what Daphne added to the research section?"
"Yeah, you think she'll find anything? I'm sure whatever resurrection ritual he used was pretty obscure."
"If anyone could, it's Daphne," Ron pitched in. He, Harry, and Hermione had started their own three-way conversation in the journal. "Dad said the Greengrass family has one of the largest book collections in the country, outside of Hogwarts."
"You could check the Library where you're staying, Hermione," Harry told her.
"How did you know there was a library here?"
"I seem to know a lot about every Black property,"
"Doesn't matter anyways," Ron noted. "Our minders locked off all of the dark rooms. Doesn't stop that Fletcher guy from rifling."
Harry thought about that before focusing on the Black ring for a minute.
"I think I adjusted the family wards — as long as it was Sirius who locked the library, and he should be the only one who can, you guys can go in there now. And no items can be taken out of the house if they belong to or were placed there by a Black."
"That'll show him, slimy bastard,"
"What's Dumbledore doing having a guy like that around?"
"I imagine he has some seedy connections," Hermione hypothesized.
"So that's what he'd doing? Making connections?"
"Seems like he's gathering up his old friends. They try to keep us upstairs when they meet but the twins have been spying a bit with those extendable ears. They've spotted Mad Eye and a couple aurors, plus Professor Lupin,"
"So Dumbledore's gathering up his own crowd,"
"From what the twins say, we're better organized. They're going to drop some listening devices they've been working on into the kitchen and we'll see how it goes." Hermione finished.
"Alright, you guys get some sleep. I'll keep in contact."
Over the next month, Harry alternated between meeting with the DA members who could arrange it, tutoring and answering questions through the journal, and laughing his ass off about the headmasters supposed 'Order of the Phoenix.'
The group was so disorderly it was painful. They were also very distressed by Harry's disappearance; he'd answered only one letter to say that he'd decided to spend the summer by himself and ignored all others, including the ones sent by his best friends to keep up appearances. Despite their uselessness when it came to keeping track of him, the Order was able to provide many, many names for the Death Eater portion of the DA journal.
A few of the Slytherin DA members were able to add a few more names to the list; many of their manors had been guested in the late hours of the night by shady figures and dark allies.
Still, the summer had, surprisingly, only brought the group closer.
Many of them were meeting amongst themselves and practicing magic in the homes with enough warding to avoid Ministry detection. Some of the halfbloods and muggleborns made arrangements to stay with Hannah Abbot, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Steele, and others. This allowed them to study and practice just as well.
In the Bones household, Susan was eyeing her aunt's visitor with suspicion that turned to surprise when she saw the distinctive ring on his finger; it was a perfect copy of the onyx ring she wore on her own finger.
"Susan, this is Lord Ravenborough," Amelia introduced. "This is my niece, Susan,"
"Please, call me Reg," he corrected, smiling. "And I am most pleased to meet you, Ms. Susan,"
Susan didn't recognize him until she saw the shifty eyed look and then the wink he shot at her. Harry? He kinda looked like Harry, if she squinted a bit.
"Then you must call me Amelia," the distinguished woman decided, adjusting her robes. "Please, join me in my study,"
Harry followed her dutifully and waved cheekily at Susan who was, at this point, sure it was Harry.
And it was; he'd used a unique blood based glamor that drew from his mother's paternal line to disguise his face. It was more effective than a normal glamor because it acted on features already present in bone structure or genetic makeup. It's subtlety made it that much harder to detect.
Settled in the Bones Manor study, Amelia waited for her house elf to pour the tea and leave to begin the discussion.
"I will admit I was surprised to receive a request for a meeting, Lord Ravenborough. I hadn't even known that the Ravenborough seat was active,"
"I've only recently claimed it, in fact," he agreed, tilting his head. "Though matters of the Wizengamot aren't what I'm here to discuss, Director Bones,"
"You wish to discuss the aurors?" she asked with a delicately raised brow; his use of her title had clued her in easily.
"More specifically the budget," he agreed. "To begin, I have a series of questions if you wouldn't mind answering them."
"If it's within my abilities," she granted slowly.
"The DMLE budget is one lump sum, correct?"
"Well yes,"
"And it comes as an annual amount, correct?"
"Correct,"
"And you'll be discussing this next years budget during the upcoming DMLE meeting?"
"As is customary,"
Harry pulled a leather portfolio of research he'd done on his own in the Ministry archives. He took a minute to organize them, knowing that she was looking at them as he set them down, before he found the page he wanted.
"So, the fixed costs for the auror department is actually separate from the yearly department stipend. Fixed costs being auror salaries and the like," he began, thinking out loud. "Your annual budget is 35,000 galleons — most of that goes towards fulfilling the Ministry regulations that require you have two sets of dragon-hide armor per one auror. The rest goes towards stocking potions and other gear like auror-grade flash-bangs and the like. On average, you spend 5,000 galleons on that."
"You're well informed on the auror budget, yes,"
"That keeps our standing auror force at somewhere just over 100 — the excess in the budget goes towards funding operations and the department expense account."
"We have a current force of 104," she agreed, looking at him from over the rim of her tea cup. "I'd quite like to know why you have such a profound interest, Lord Ravenborough,"
"Reg," he corrected. "I'm interested in seeing the auror forces bolster. I'd like to see you with a standing force of 250 — I know there's people with the qualifications that want the job that you don't have the resources to hire."
"Unless you know of a way to convince the Minister to increase the DMLE budget to somewhere in the range of 60,000 galleons, I'm afraid that'll be quite impossible."
"To clarify, if you were able to to locate these funds, you could hire another 150 people regardless of the Minister's wishes? The ministry would have to pay their salary as long as you don't overrun allotted funds?"
"The Ministry's salary budget can accommodate that, yes. They'd have no reasons or grounds to protest. But I still don't see how that's relevant,"
Harry pulled three books from his pocket and opened them to bookmarked pages.
"These are court records that prove the ministry has a history of allowances when it comes to donations to the ministry — one of those being that donator has the indisputable right to donate the money to one specific department and that said money may have no effect on departmental budgets. They also have the right to decide who dictates the spending of that money."
Those nifty little laws had been instituted to help corrupt department heads line their pockets and some of them were still used today. Harry was planning to use them properly and legally, however.
"Are you saying you plan to donate 60,000 galleons to the DMLE?" she asked in an even tone that concealed her true interest.
Very few families had access to that kind of liquid income and she doubted very seriously that he did.
"No," Harry briefly enjoyed the small flicker of disappointment on her face.
He pushed a certified bank draft that only lacked only one blank — the receiver.
"I'm saying I will donate 150,000 galleons with the provision that it be used to expand and better train the aurors."
Amelia had to set her tea cup down.
"That's," she paused to gather herself. "That is incredibly generous and, as you've pointed out, perfectly legal."
"But?"
"But I would have reservations,"
"Such as?"
"What are you expecting from this? I don't accept bribes,"
"My Lady," Harry said with an appropriate amount of manufactured insult even if he knew it was a question she'd ask. "I firmly believe that dark times are coming and our auror force is not nearly ready for it."
"Dark times?" she asked suspiciously. "Have you been speaking to Albus Dumbledore?"
"While Dumbledore may be the only one who stands up and shouts that he believes the Dark Lord has returned, he isn't the only one who can tell there's stirring in the darker factions of our society."
"So you believe him?"
"I've been offered no proof or disproof — all I have observed are whispers and they are enough to warrant suspicion."
"A 150,000 galleon bank note is more than suspicion,"
"Perhaps it is," he admitted. "Perhaps it's paranoia. But the events of the last war were terrible enough to warrant paranoia."
"I suppose so," she admitted with a nod a moment later.
"Now, I wasn't sure what exactly I needed to write in this bit," Harry said, gesturing to the blank slot. "The goblins said something about 'for explicit use of' and said you could provide the proper title."
"If you're quite sure…"
"I'm quite sure," Harry agreed firmly before tilting his head. "Although…there might be one favor I could ask of you,"
Amelia stiffened immediately so he hurried to continue.
"It's my understanding that Hogwarts is having a difficult time finding a professor to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. If you could, perhaps, lend or encourage an auror to take the position?"
Tilting her head, Amelia looked at the check and then back to him. It certainly wasn't a bribe and she could tell that she could deny the request and he'd still sign the check all the same.
But with that much money at her disposal, she could spare a trainee auror or retiree for the job.
"I believe that can be arranged,"
And so, the summer passed.
The DA continued researching; they'd kept up a list of spells and charms they wanted to learn in the coming year or had learned in the summer. This allowed everyone to have a sort of measure to catch up to.
The twins had even joined Hermione in sneaking into the Black library and had begun their own section in the journal for potions research.
Madam Bones had taken her signed draft into Gringotts the very next day — she'd known since the check had glowed gold when Harry had signed it that the check was real but it hadn't really hit her until she'd seen the sum deposited in the account. Her department meeting had felt more like a party as there wasn't much to deliberate with un-stretched funds.
Harry continued to receive letters from the order that he ignored until the last week of summer. Then, he arranged to be picked up at the Leaky Cauldron by Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody.
Lupin had lectured him on the dangers of running away knowing who was out there. Moody had given him an assessing look before nodding, satisfied, and congratulated him on taking his security seriously. He knew the grizzled old auror had seen the amulet, his wand holster, and probably the dagger strapped to his thigh.
Remus had looked pissed off at the statement of support but couldn't argue because Harry had, after all, remained hidden despite the Order's best efforts.
"So where are we going?" Harry asked.
"We'll tell you when we get there," Lupin said simply.
If Harry hadn't known where they were going, that bullshit probably would have bothered him. As it was, he just followed docilely.
When they landed on a dingy London street, a piece of parchment was shoved under his nose. In Dumbledore's loopy handwriting were the words 'The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number 12, Grimmauld Place, London.'
Before his eyes, a house appeared between 11 and 13 Grimmauld place. Lupin looked to him, expecting a reaction.
"Fidelius, nice," he commented.
"This is Sirius' house," Remus told him after a beat.
"Sirius is here?" Harry asked with excitement he didn't have to fake.
"Aye," Moody agreed. "Now quit lolly-gagging and get inside, boy,"
"Call me boy again and I'll take that peg-leg down a few inches," Harry promised as he walked by the old auror.
"Don't go making threats you can't keep, boy,"
Moody had made the mistake of waiting until Harry crossed the threshold to retort.
Protected by the fidelius, Harry had no worries about his magic being detected. Faster than Moody had thought him capable of, Harry's wand had dropped into his hand via holster. Silently and with no wand movements, a relatively high-powered cutter shot out and took the lower six inches off of Moody's leg and pant leg.
Nonchalantly, Harry followed the voices he could hear coming from down the hall.
"Constant vigilance, Moody," he called, resisting the urge to turn and look at the stumbling auror who was supporting himself on the wall. "I even told you what I was going to do,"
Remus went to scold him both for magic and for what he'd done but he was cut off by a gruff laugh.
"Aye, you did, Potter,"
Harry smirked and pushed into the kitchen before Remus could scold him. Something about the werewolf rubbed him the wrong way. He supposed it was leftover resentment from the time Remus had made an ass of himself about the Marauder's Map.
"Harry!" Sirius said as soon as his eyes landed on his godson.
Mrs. Weasley was the first to reach him with a crushing hug. Hermione was the second.
"Where have you been?" his bushy haired friend began immediately according to their prearranged act. "I can't believe you'd run away from your relatives. Do you know how foolish that was, Harry?"
"I never ran away from them, Mione," he denied. "I just never went back. And I won't be going back either, you can bet on that."
"I fear that I must disagree, Mr. Potter,"
"Fat lot of good that did you this summer, Professor Dumbledore," Harry said without even turning to face the floo. He did after a moment though, watching as the wizened old man brushed himself off. "I don't imagine the blood wards will do much good anyways. Voldemort did use my blood to resurrect himself, didn't he?"
The old man's eyes widened.
"Merlin, you hadn't even thought of that, did you?" the emerald-eyed young man laughed. "He even made a whole point about how he'd negated my mother's protection while he had me tied to the headstone,"
The room at large, filled with a wide variety of people he didn't recognize, flinched at both the reminder and the use of Voldemort's name.
"I'm sure that the wards are-"
"No, you're not," Harry cut him off. "Because you hadn't even considered the possibility and you haven't thought about it for more than a minute. On top of that, you didn't set the wards, did you? How would you know their state?"
"Harry," Mrs. Weasley scolded. "You'll speak to the Headmaster with respect-"
"Or what, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry cut her off; this was part of the plan the golden trio had discussed.
Harry wanted to push the distance between him and Dumbledore now more than ever. The last thing he needed was the headmaster attempting to cozy up to him. He felt the upcoming year was going to be too busy to put up with his manipulations.
"For all that you've treated me like family, my mother and father are dead, Mrs. Weasley. My choices are mine to make with no influence from you. Plus, I somehow doubt my mother would want me living with those wretched people. You're my headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, and there ends the extent of your authority of me. I came here so we could avoid doing this at Hogwarts."
"I don't know what I've done to earn such vitriol, Harry-"
"Honestly?" Harry cut him off. "I think this all started at the end of my first year. You admitted then that there were things you weren't telling me. You know Voldemort's back and you still haven't told me whatever it is. In fact, you've done nothing to prepare me except insist I go back to living under a rock with my aunt and uncle."
Harry took a deep breath and shot the man an accusing look.
"I watched one of my friends die and you still can't tell me what it is that you know about my life that I don't,"
The order members in the room shot looks at Dumbledore.
"Although it looks like you've told them," he nodded to all of them. "Some of whom I don't even know, let alone trust, and one who looks like he can't be trusted with a bar of soap."
Harry glared at Mudungus Fletcher.
"And I'm talking about the hobo you drug out from under a bridge, not Snape,"
Sirius laughed but worked to stifle it under the combined glares of mum Weasley and mum Remus. None of them thought to question how Harry knew Snape was a member when the greasy man wasn't even present.
"So thank you for trusting complete strangers with aspects of my life that you haven't seen fit to trust me with — when you feel like coming clean, we can talk about my hostilities ending. Until then, you can keep your distance plenty fine."
Before he left the room, he shot a wink at his godfather. "Can I talk to you, Sirius? In private?"
"Sure, pup," Sirius agreed, jumping up from his chair.
"Ron, Mione?"
His friends joined him quietly, leaving the room and Dumbledore wearing shocked looks.
Moody, however, just looked on in approval.
"You going to fill me in on what's going on, pup? That was some pretty good acting."
"How'd you know I was acting?"
"I didn't," Sirius denied. "I was talking about Hermione. You lot knew where he was?"
"I spent the first couple weeks of summer with him," she admitted.
"Doing what?" Sirius asked curiously.
"Same thing as the Order of the Phoenix," Harry said with a shrug. "Getting ready for war."
"What?" Sirius asked. "Harry-"
"Don't start Sirius. You're lucky I'm telling you this much without a secrecy oath."
"You don't trust me?" he asked, wounded.
"I don't trust you not to go running to Dumbledore. You tell him anything I tell you, you'll lose a god-kid."
Sirius looked surprised and hurt but shook his head. "I wouldn't betray your trust, pup. What are you getting into?"
"I'm not getting into anything," Harry shook his head. "I'm already in this, Sirius. I've probably faced and fought Voldemort head on more than any member of the order combined except Dumbledore and Snape."
"How'd you know Snape's in the order? And how do you know he's faced Voldemort at all?"
"I've seen his Dark Mark — he and Igor Karkaroff were comparing tattoos last year. As for knowing he's in the order; Well, Hermione cast and identity recording charm above the kitchen door before an Order meeting."
Sirius shot them an impressed look.
"Didn't know you were owling," he commented. "Didn't think you were in contact with anyone."
"We weren't owling," Harry denied — that was all he offered though. "We do have a favor to ask."
"Oh?"
"I know you were an auror before the war," Hermione spoke up. "And Harry and our friends could use some tutoring during the year."
"At Hogwarts?"
"We can get you in undetected," Harry promised. "We have the map and the invisibility cloak, though I doubt we'd even need it. Not like you haven't done it before."
"And your friends would be okay taking lessons from an Azkaban escapee?"
"They're all sworn to secrecy," Hermione assured him.
"How many of you ruffians would I be teaching?"
"Just our most trusted friends. Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, the Weasley kids, a few others," Harry stretched the truth a little bit.
"I'll do it."
"Without telling Dumbledore?"
"Yes pup, without telling Dumbledore," he agreed. "If what Remus has been telling me is true, you three have a penchant for trouble that not even the Marauders can match."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all shared grins before Hermione pulled out a journal and two velvet pouches.
"The journal connects to all of ours," Harry informed him. "The twins and Ginny have one too. Just write whomever's name you want it to go to and they'll get it,"
The journal was smaller than the DA's and was a very limited version of the ones they all had.
"What're these?" he asked as he pocketed the nifty journal and took the pouches.
"Protection, as much as we can give you,"
Sirius raised an eyebrow before emptying the pouches into his hand. When he saw them he couldn't stop his other eyebrow from joining the first in surprise.
"The work on these…this could only be from…"
Harry just nodded. Apparently this Madam was more popular than he'd realized among the right circles.
"Never take them off," Harry directed firmly. "If you're in trouble, touch the ring to the pendant."
"If I'm in trouble?"
"You'll understand more later, Sirius. But if something should happen, death eaters or anything, do what I said."
"Alright pup," Sirius agreed slowly.
"We should probably go back downstairs, mum normally has dinner done by now," Ron said once Sirius finished tucking the amulet under his robes after Hermione's warning to keep it hidden.
"Yeah, let's go,"
Sirius pulled Harry into a firm hug.
"Promise me something?" he said as he pulled away and held Harry at arms length.
"Yeah?"
"Be careful."
"As much as possible, Sirius," Harry promised.
Sirius watched him go with a protective glint in his eye. Whatever his godson was up to, he'd be part of it whether the headmaster would approve or not.
He looked at the amulet and ring calculatingly — they weren't trinkets. He could feel the power in them and knew they'd been custom made and probably ordered months in advance. Whatever the trio was doing, they were serious about it.
The last week at Grimmauld passed quietly.
Once they were on the Hogwarts express, they were joined by Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, Neville, Luna, Ginny, and the twins. Daphne Greengrass joined them briefly but left when their conversation finished.
"Harry what were you doing at my house this summer? Who's Lord Ravenborough? My Auntie's been raving about him." Susan began immediately, obviously unable to contain herself. She hadn't thought to ask him in their new journals.
"I'm Lord Ravenborough — I inherited the title through my mum. She must be from a squib line, didn't really ask," he answered. "I was making a large donation to the auror department. We were going to try something more subtle to help the DMLE but we're just students; can't really effect ministry policy. Can throw money at them though."
"You're the reason the auror force has been growing by leaps and bounds, Potter?" Greengrass asked, laughing.
"Heard something about it?"
"Only at my father's dinners. Just general grumbling about 'that Amelia Bones and her haranguing.'"
"She's already recruited thirty new aurors," Susan agreed. "And almost all of the standing aurors failed the physical fitness requirements she imposed. They've all had to go back to the academy."
"That's great," Harry grinned. "Better than I could have hoped for,"
"They'll be ready for the Dark Lord," Daphne agreed.
"The rest of the ministry won't be," Ron reminded. "And the dark tosser will be ready for them."
"It's been the habit for the ministry to be somewhat taken over by the DMLE directly after war is declared," Hermione noted. "We can only hope that's what happens when he finally reveals himself."
"When're we meeting, Potter?"
"Just after dinner, you think?"
"We can't," Hermione denied. "Prefects have to escort the first years,"
"Right," Harry shook his head. "When works?"
"And hour before curfew?" Hannah suggested. "It doesn't need to be a long meeting."
"So that's," Harry cast a tempus. "Five hours from now?"
"Mhm," Hermione agreed.
Harry tapped his ring twice, then tapped it five times. Immediately after, everyone felt their ring vibrate one long time, then five short times. It repeated that three times.
Just to be sure everyone understood the rather limited signaling method, Hermione wrote 'Urgent: Full meeting in five hours — one hour before curfew' in the journal. Tagging something as urgent made the journals vibrate much more strongly.
"Effective," Daphne said, glancing at her own ring.
She was rather fond of it — it was pretty and she knew the protections were the kind that lasted a lifetime. Harry probably hadn't known it, but he'd gifted them all rings and amulets that they'd wear for the rest of their lives.
"These must have cost a fortune. I recognize the Madame's work," she said softly.
"Well they could save our lives," Harry said simply, shrugging. "Can't put a price on that,"
"Some people could," she said imperiously as she left the compartment.
Hermione had come back to the compartment with every member of the DA who was also a prefect.
Daphne, the Slytherin prefect, was more incensed than anyone.
"They made Malfoy a prefect?"
"They what?" Harry asked, jaw dropping.
"They made Malfoy. A prefect."
There was much conversing over what to do before Hermione decided right then an there that a petition needed to be written and signed before they even got to Hogwarts.
Daphne and every Slytherin DA member had been sent out with a copy of the petition. Every prefect signed it, even the upper-year Slytherin prefects.
Malfoy had made an enemy of them when he'd pranced into the prefect carriage and made it sound as if every Slytherin prefect answered to him.
For the ethics of it, only Slytherin non-prefect students were allowed to sign the petition. Every second and third year Slytherin signed the petition happily. Most of the third years did and plenty of fourth and fifth years too.
Near Hogsmeade, Daphne marked that she had collected all the signatures she could.
Ron, Gryffindor prefect, signed the petition after all of the names stopped pouring in. Hermione did the same with a flourish before bringing it hurriedly to the head girl and boy.
Madam Bones had come through on her promise. Retired auror Henley Hollingsworth had volunteered to take the position at the last minute. Harry just shared a secretive smile with the trio when they'd looked at him suspiciously, sure of his involvement.
"And another wonderful conclusion to a Hogwarts welcoming feast. I'm sure we're all quite tired so, off you trot," Dumbledore smiled benignly. "Prefects, if you could lead the first years to the dorms."
"Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore," Gabriel Truman, Hufflepuff head boy said as he stood.
"Yes, Mr. Truman?"
"The prefects would like to have a word with you and the heads of houses in the antechamber,"
"I'm sure this can wait, Mr. Truman," he declared. "We do have a whole hall full of students,"
The students digressed — they were quite interested in watching this bit of drama.
"I quite disagree, Headmaster," Melinda Robertson, the Ravenclaw head girl denied as she stepped up.
Every other prefect followed their lead, clearly not intending to drop the matter. Draco Malfoy looked spectacularly confused but followed everyone's lead; after all, they looked quite sure of what they were doing.
Reluctantly, Dumbledore and his four heads of houses entered the antechamber with twenty odd students. The people in the great hall watched the door to the left of the teaches table with confused anticipation.
"…and so, it is with firm intentions that we, the undersigned, do hereby declare our refusal to suffer under Draco Malfoy as a prefect." Melinda finished reading resolutely.
Firmly, every prefect ignored the gasp from McGonagall, the indignant cries from Draco, and the hissed litany or snarking abuse from Snape.
Melinda handed Dumbledore the unfurled scroll.
"That list is signed by every single prefect and a vast majority of the Slytherin house." Gabriel said firmly.
"Mr. Truman," Dumbledore said, looking taken aback. "I can see now that you've put a great deal of thought into this petition, but I must insist…"
Gabriel began to talk, trying to interrupt, but Dumbledore continued over him; no one could fault Gabriel for quieting.
"I must insist that you at least do him the courtesy to see how he performs as a prefect. Regardless of personal difference in opinion-"
"Regardless of your personal opinion, headmaster," Melinda butted in strongly. "I've watched Draco Malfoy bully his way through Hogwarts for five years. I've seen him push, shove, and curse other students both verbally and with magic. He spews unfounded, witless pureblood rhetoric to anyone who will listen and uses filthy, derogatory words like mudblood."
Dumbledore looked shocked by the head girls vitriol; Hermione and the other prefects were too. None more shocked than Draco Malfoy, who looked too dumbfounded to speak.
"When Helga Hufflepuff instituted prefects in this school, she made sure only the best students would receive the honor. Prefects are supposed to be kind, helpful, courteous, and moral. The prefect position is not a position given to rehabilitate petty, rude little boys. Giving him the title spits on the very foundations of this school and it spits on each and every one of us." Gabriel spoke up strongly.
Sprout looked like she was torn between scolding her student or being proud of him.
"Headmaster, this is nonsense," Severus cut in silkily. "Draco-"
"Draco Malfoy is your godson," Hermione spoke up. "Honestly, this is nepotism at it's finest. But if you're so insistent on keeping him as a prefect, then have it your way."
Every prefect in the room removed their badges; some of them didn't want to and hoped they wouldn't have to, but they would do it anyways.
"He can be your only prefect," Daphne finished for Hermione, further shocking the professors.
"Albus this has gone on long enough," McGonagall cut them off. "I told you very clearly I didn't approve of your choice of prefect. I never thought the students would have something quite so definite to say about it, but there you have it."
McGonagall turned towards the prefects sternly.
"Five points to each of you for having the sheer moral fiber to stand up for what you believe in. Now please, escort the first years to their dormitories."
The prefects hesitated for a second, waiting for something.
The head boy and girl sized up the deputy headmistress who looked near ready to scold them for impertinence but, after a moment, the two seventh years nodded.
That was all the signal they needed. The prefects poured out of the antechamber; Draco Malfoy was, notably, asked to remain behind.
Well here's another chapter! Thank you for the support and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.
Revised: January 15 2017