A/N: I do not own Harry Potter.
Part One: Something Wicked This Way Comes
Chapter Four: Power
Ron woke sometime later that afternoon. Everyone else who had been injured was largely healed by that time. Madam Pomfrey was incredibly annoyed Harry couldn't explain what he'd done to heal Hermione, especially since it left a few tiny fractures in her bones, but eventually left them all to their own devices.
"Bloody hell, my effing head…" Ron moaned, capturing the attention of everyone. Harry and Hermione, still sitting on her bed, turned toward the redhead. Neville, Ginny, and Luna walked over to stand beside Ron's bed.
"Hello there, dear brother. I see you've finally decided to rejoin us," Ginny said, as Ron blinked rapidly to clear his eyes. He slowly sat up, holding the sides of his head with both palms.
"It's too bright in here," he complained. "And you're all breathing too loudly."
"Quit your whining," Ginny said.
Ron peered up at her. His eyes slid to Neville and Luna, standing next to her, and finally over to Harry and Hermione, who were sitting nearly on top of each other on her bed. His gaze lingered on them for several seconds.
"I don't know why I thought 'accio brains' would have helped at all," he mumbled, turning his head back to his bed.
"It's alright, mate, we all made it out of there," Neville said, clapping him on the shoulder. Ron winced at the jarring movement.
"Speaking of that," Ron said, looking up again, "what happened. How did we get out of there?"
And so the story was told over again, this time entirely by Neville. Predictably, Ron turned widened eyes on Harry when Neville came to the sudden explosion of power; and again, later, when the story concluded with a one-armed Voldemort Portkeying from the Ministry.
"Blimey," Ron stated, addressing Harry. The two friends locked eyes. "Where has that been hiding for the last five years?"
Harry's only response was a small smile and a half shrug.
"You should have seen his Patronus back in third year," Hermione said, looking at her new boyfriend. Harry and Hermione locked eyes for a moment. "When you've heard over one hundred Dementors keening in pain, then you might have known Harry was capable of such a thing."
Ron's jaw clenched; everyone else noticed this. Now they were just waiting for the impending explosion of Ron's jealousy—over Harry's power, Harry's fame, and the obvious affection Harry and Hermione were showing each other.
"So it's you and Hermione now?"
Harry's left eyebrow rose toward his fringe. He looked at Hermione, who nodded.
"Yes, Ron, it is. But it will always be the three of us, too. And the six of us."
Everyone was watching this exchange with bated breath. The muscles in Ron's face clenched tighter and he looked away for a moment, staring off into space. The world was startlingly quiet for a few seconds.
"Then I guess it's about time you pulled your head out of your arse," Ron finally replied, looking at Hermione and Harry again.
"Say what?" Harry asked.
Ron actually grinned. "You heard me. How long have you been pining for her, Harry?"
Harry was too stunned to speak. "About as long as I have for him," Hermione supplied, smiling carefully at Ron.
Ron inclined his head. "Fair enough. You two do know my twin brothers have a pool on when you'd get together, right?"
Hermione looked mildly offended, but Harry just shook his head, smiling. "Leave it to Fred and George to take the mickey out of everything."
"You surprise me, brother," Ginny said, after a moment.
Ron glanced at her. "And why is that? Because I didn't have a tantrum about Harry and Hermione finally getting together?"
Everyone found themselves nodding in agreement with his rhetorical question, even those he'd just named. He sighed and rolled his eyes at his five friends.
"Look, I know I've been prat when it comes to that, and truthfully I did fancy Hermione a bit for a little while, but after the Yule Ball last year and spending last summer with her at Grimmauld, I realized it would just never work between us. We're too different; we argue and bicker all the time. I finally saw that my relationship with you, Hermione, is like mine with my sister—and let me tell you, the squickiness involved in fancying someone you think of like your sister is downright unpleasant. Those feelings went away quickly."
"I think you've graduated to a tablespoon, Ron," Hermione said, gratitude once again filling her voice.
"Seriously, mate. That was some deep stuff," Harry agreed.
Ron waved it away. His headache looked to be subsiding a little; he was sitting a little straighter and wasn't so carefully moving his head anymore.
"However, I would prefer to never see you two snogging," he said, half-jokingly.
Harry smirked. "I can't promise anything, Ron. Hermione is too sexy for her own good." The witch in question had the good grace to blush. "But I will try to keep myself under control," Harry added, speaking more to Hermione than Ron.
"Right," Ron said, slowly, "now that that is settled…" He looked directly at Luna. "Will someone please tell me why Luna has been feeling herself up this whole time?"
Later that evening, just as Madam Pomfrey was giving everyone a clean bill of health and permission to leave the Infirmary, Sirius strode into the Wing with a purpose.
"Sirius," Harry acknowledged his godfather with a smile. Sirius smiled back, but all of them could tell it was strained.
"Are they all set, Poppy?" he asked, looking at the Mediwitch. She nodded, tutted a few more times about mere children having to fight Death Eaters, and bustled off to her office.
"What's wrong, Sirius?" Hermione asked.
He quietly observed the six of them for a moment, before obviously deciding something in his head and nodding once to himself.
"Right, you lot, I need you to come with me," he said.
"Where are we going?" Ginny wondered, even as they all stood and moved toward Sirius to do as he said.
"Room of Requirement," he informed them. "An Order meeting starts in about five minutes, and Dumbledore decided to hold this one at Hogwarts."
"We're going to sit in on a meeting?" Ron asked, sounding marginally excited. Sirius glanced at him before nodding. They were now strolling through the castle; Hermione and Harry hand-in-hand, Ginny and Neville quite close to each other, and Ron and Luna trailing behind everyone else.
"Yes, and it took some convincing of the Headmaster to allow it," Sirius stated, sounding highly annoyed.
"Not that I don't appreciate it, but why now, all of the sudden?" Harry queried.
"Foremost because of what the prophecy says and that you all know it. Secondly, because you all fought and more or less defeated twelve of Voldemort's inner circle today; and thirdly, because you, Harry, sent Voldemort packing like no one else ever has. If those reasons haven't earned you all admission to the Order, then it might as well not exist."
Hermione nodded, squeezing Harry's hand. "And you told Dumbledore all of that?"
A bitter smile spread across Sirius's face. "Something like that."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"I think Dumbledore took what you said earlier to heart, Harry," Sirius told him. "It wasn't easy to convince him of this, but when I reminded him of the things you'd so eloquently pointed out in the Infirmary, he folded rather quickly."
"About time," Ron muttered.
Sirius stopped walking and looked at Ron sharply. Everyone's progress suddenly halted.
"Do not mistake my advocacy as license to enjoy this or think any of this is fun," Sirius said, a little heatedly. Perhaps he realized, because he closed his eyes briefly; and when he spoke again, his tone was softer.
"Having come through what you all just experienced, you should know what I mean. Voldemort and the Death Eaters are very real threats, to everything and everyone we hold dear. The Ministry's general incompetence—not to mention its deep-seated corruption—is hamstringing our country's resistance to the pureblood propaganda.
"Voldemort is exploiting this, probably as we speak, and the Order of the Phoenix is the only organization planning to make a real stand against him. Dumbledore may have many faults, but he is still one of the most powerful beings on Earth, and he does in fact fight very hard for our side. I implore all of you to take this meeting very seriously. First impressions mean a lot, you know."
The six met each other's eyes, including each individually with Harry. There was a silent agreement among them and they nodded toward Sirius.
"We understand," Harry said, speaking for all of them.
"Good. Let's keep moving," Sirius replied. The rest of their journey to the Room of Requirement was silent. When they arrived, there was already a door where the normally blank wall would have greeted them. Sirius opened this door and ushered them in ahead of him.
Harry was momentarily startled to find himself in a good approximation of a modern executive boardroom, with a very long rectangular table and many plush chairs. He hadn't known the Room could approach late twentieth century standards.
His gaze swept over the room. Most of the aforementioned chairs were already filled; this appeared to be an all-hands-on-deck meeting. Those he recognized were: Mr. and Mrs. Weasley; Fred and George; Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour; Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Hagrid; Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hestia Jones; Dedalus Diggle and Mundungus Fletcher; Lupin and Tonks; and Alastor Moody. There were several others he didn't think he'd ever seen before.
"Ah, good, you have arrived," Dumbledore called, from the head of the table. He waved them to the seats. They all sat on one side of the table, with Sirius at one end and Luna at the other. The look Mrs. Weasley sent her just-arrived progeny promised a talking-to later, but for now she was remarkably silent. Hermione kept hold of Harry's hand, placing it in her lap and rubbing her thumbs over his knuckles. He met her eyes and they gave reassuring smiles to each other. It felt so good to know she was there and she felt the same way about him that he'd felt about her all these years. With her help and her love, he knew he could defeat Voldemort.
Lest his thoughts consume him, however, he turned his attention to the meeting.
"Now that we are all here, we can begin," Dumbledore said, meeting the eye of every single person at the table. "Many of you know some of the details of what happened already, but few of you know all of them. So I think we will begin with the story." The Headmaster looked down toward the six new members. "Would one of you please tell us what happened this morning before you arrived and during your stay at the Ministry?"
Before anyone could respond to Dumbledore's request, Dedalus Diggle cleared his throat. All eyes went to him.
"I still think these children are far too young to be involved in this, Albus," the short, older man said in a thin, reedy voice. He was now squirming under the attention his words gave him.
Dumbledore sighed. "You have already made your opinion known, Dedalus," he said.
"I agree with Dedalus, for the record," Mrs. Weasley said, with surprising bitterness. Mr. Weasley glared at her and shook his head.
"The issue at hand is not whether Harry and his friends are old enough to participate," Dumbledore stated, quite firmly. "That is for another time, or not at all," he continued. "Now, if you please, one of you tell us what happened."
So Harry picked up the thread, beginning with the vision in his History of Magic OWL the previous day. The story carried through to Harry bringing them all back to Hogwarts with the others filling in details where necessary, though Harry's quiet tones were the primary source of sound in the Room for some time.
Silence fell over the assembled Order members when Harry finished as they all assimilated what they'd heard. Fred and George eventually started whispering furiously to each other, pointedly ignoring their mother's glares. Harry found that many in the room were looking at him with a new respect, something he didn't really want, but his anxiety eased when he noticed his five friends were getting the same looks.
"I am sure we all have questions," Dumbledore finally said, "but please keep them to the most relevant ones." He looked around expectantly.
Tonks sat a little straighter. "How did you get back to Hogwarts? No one can Apparate in or out of the grounds."
"Not exactly where I would have started," Hermione muttered, and Harry stifled a chuckle at her apropos comment. He turned his attention toward Tonks.
"For that matter, how did I get to the Atrium?" he wondered. "I can't Apparate because I haven't learned how yet. So whatever I did wasn't Apparation."
"You don't even know what you did?" Tonks asked, bewildered.
Harry shrugged. "I can…feel my magic better than I could before the Ministry. I wanted to bring us all back to Hogwarts so I called upon my magic and made it do what I wanted. Simple as that."
"And impossible," someone scoffed. Harry didn't recognize him.
"Clearly not," Ginny retorted, dryly. "Can we move on? This is really the least of our problems." Many of the people around the table nodded in agreement with the young redheaded witch, including Mrs. Weasley, who was eyeing her daughter with some curiosity.
"I agree," Dumbledore said. "I think the most pertinent question is how Harry managed to subconsciously incapacitate every Death Eater and force Voldemort to submit with a simple, yet unbelievably powerful, Reductor curse?"
"I'll say what Hermione said to me earlier today: this isn't without precedent, you know," Ron broke in, sounding quite confident. Harry held back a smile at his friends asserting themselves so brilliantly in this meeting. He wasn't completely comfortable being the center of attention, but with Hermione still holding his hand and his friends supporting him, he was less bothered by it than he might have been.
Ron was met with mostly blank looks.
"Oh, come on," he rolled his eyes. "Now that Hermione pointed it out, it's really fairly obvious, isn't it? The Patronus at the end of third year, pulling the Sword of Gryffindor and killing the Basilisk in second year, fighting Voldemort to a draw at the end of last year…" he trailed off, as looks of comprehension started to go around the table.
"It just took something drastic to fully unlock it," Neville said, meeting Harry's eyes over Hermione's head. They both glanced at her.
"Which was?" Hestia Jones asked.
It was Neville's turn to roll his eyes. "You heard the story. When Hermione was hit by Dolohov's curse, Harry decided to go all Divinity on everyone in the Ministry." Some nervous chuckles made the rounds as everyone considered the true extent of Harry's power. The wizard in question sat there stoically, basking in the comfort Hermione was consciously and unconsciously providing.
"I believe the term you are looking for is sorcerer," Dumbledore spoke, silencing the chatter.
Harry looked at Dumbledore. "Pardon, Headmaster?"
"The correct term for an extremely powerful wizard is sorcerer," Dumbledore explained. "And sorceress is the witch's counterpart."
Harry felt Hermione pause in her gentle rubbing of his hand as everyone at the table absorbed this information. Several looked like they had already known the terms.
"Are those subjective terms, Headmaster?" Hermione asked. "Or do they have some basis in objective fact?" Harry thought he understood what her question meant, even if it was readily apparent her reasoning was beyond several members of the Order. They turned their blank looks to Dumbledore.
"Good question, no less than I expect from you, Hermione," Dumbledore said, now smiling. "They are in fact objective terms, reserved for those who are above a certain power threshold on the Emrys Index."
"I didn't think the Index was used anymore," Hermione said. Harry had no idea what they were talking, but he trusted Hermione enough to realize she would answer any of his questions later.
"There is rarely a reason for its use in these times, you are correct, since we do not use it at magical schools anymore, but it is still around."
"Excuse me," Ron cut in, sounding annoyed, "but what the hell is the Emrys Index and why don't we use it at school anymore?" he asked, emphasizing the last word.
"The Emrys Index, Ronald," Hermione explained, "is the standard by which all wizards' and witches' magical potentials are measured. It's a scale of 0 to 1000, 0 meaning you're a non-magical person and 1000 meaning you're Merlin. Its use was practically outlawed for magical schools because of the unhealthy competition it fostered."
Dumbledore was nodding; a fair few more than Ron looked educated by what Hermione had said, including Harry. He squeezed her hands and smiled at her, which turned into a grin when she blushed slightly. The faint pink on her cheeks made her even prettier.
"Thank you, Hermione. Squibs typically fall in the 1-15 range; the average magical person is approximately 300; and the threshold for a sorcerer or a sorceress is 650. Hermione correctly pointed out that Merlin's score was 1000, and no one has ever scored higher than him, which is why the entire scale is based and formulated on that standard."
"What's your score, Headmaster?" Fred, or George, asked, sounding quite eager to know the answer.
Dumbledore smiled at them benignly. "I haven't tested myself in several years, but last I knew it was 930." Everyone looked appropriately awed. Harry, however, wasn't falling for it.
"And Voldemort's?"
"For obvious reasons he has never submitted to the test, but it is safe to assume he is around 900 as well," Dumbledore answered, looking quite grave.
"But what does all of that even mean?" Luna asked, speaking for the first time. Mercifully, she was no longer massaging her breast. "Raw magical potential? Is that the power we put into every spell, or the power we could put into a spell?"
The look of surprise that flit over the faces of those who knew Luna meant they hadn't expected the serious, focused question from the airy blond. Just another thing the fiasco at the Ministry seemed to have changed.
"Ravenclaw to our rescue!" Dumbledore exclaimed, with a fair bit of mirth and no sarcasm in his voice. "It is, my dear Luna, your power if you were to cast a spell at your full magical potential, something which is normally very hard and requires a certain set of parameters and stressors, both internal and external.
"However, there is one spell that was specifically designed with the Emrys Index in mind, one that is always cast at full power due to the nature of the arithmantic equations behind its formulation. I propose that we use this spell today to test the six of you, since your remarkable stand against Voldemort's inner circle took power and determination normally beyond that of fourth and fifth years."
Dumbledore pulled his wand as the Room of Requirement quite suddenly started to change around them. The table and the chairs remained, but one wall melted back about fifteen feet, leaving what looked like a dueling platform in its wake. On one end of the platform was a simple black line; on the other end was a gleaming silver shield, about eight feet high, engraved with the Hogwarts crest in gold.
"Hogwarts always does provide," Dumbledore said, smiling. He rose from his seat, moving toward the platform; all eyes followed him. "Now as I was saying, there is a spell used with the Emrys Index, and its incantation is potens. No movement is necessary; simply point your wand at the target, think of your magic, and cast the spell."
Dumbledore stepped onto the platform and positioned himself at the black line. "The shield you see is made of pure elementium, one of the rarest substances on the planet. The Four Founders enchanted it to facilitate their use of the Index."
They all watched as the Headmaster pointed his wanted straight at the large shield. A subtle hint of his power, felt along forearms and on the backs of necks, washed through the room.
"Potens," he said, calmly. A small, intensely bright, platinum sphere of magic flew from the tip of his wand and impacted the shield, dead center. The spell dissipated and all eyes turned up, where numbers and a word were appearing, written in the air:
932 – Sorcerer
"Now for some perspective," Dumbledore said, stepping down. "Minerva? Remus? Arthur? If you will."
Without a word, the three he named stood and joined him at the edge of the platform.
"I'll go first," Mr. Weasley said, stepping onto the platform and raising his wand. "Potens."
The spell was similar to Dumbledore's though much less bright. When it impacted the shield, Harry found himself looking up in anticipation, fascinated by this whole concept. He was surprised Hermione had never mentioned it before. He glanced at her and saw she was equally enraptured by the proceedings.
379 – Above Average
Lupin replaced him and cast the same spell. It was slightly brighter than Mr. Weasley's.
565 – Well Above Average
Finally, it was McGonagall's turn. Her spell was brighter than both wizards' that preceded her.
701 – Sorceress
"Excuse me," Hermione said, loudly, over the chatter that had erupted at seeing McGonagall listed as a sorceress. Harry wondered why they were surprised if they hadn't already known? McGonagall was quite obviously a very powerful witch. One only had to sit in her class to know this.
"Headmaster, is the scale linear or logarithmic?" she asked. Dumbledore cocked his head at her.
"It is not linear, but I am unfamiliar with the second term. Logarithmic?"
Hermione pursed her lips; then she pulled her wand. She proceeded to draw in the air with fire two half a y-axis and half an x-axis, along with a diagonal line emerging from their juncture.
"This would be the Emrys Index if it were linear," she instructed. She pointed to the top of the diagonal line. "That would be 1000." She waved her wand and the line disappeared; she then drew a logarithmic scale.
"And this would the Index if it were logarithmic. As you can see by the curve of the line, 1000 is significantly more powerful than 900, and so on."
"Ah, I see," Dumbledore said. "The second scale more nearly approximates the Emrys Index. As I am more interested in the practical application of magic, you would need to speak to a magical theorist to gain the exact formula for the scale."
Hermione nodded, looking satisfied. She belated noticed that everyone seemed to be staring at her, most with shock and awe on their faces—except Harry, that is, who was just grinning at his girlfriend.
"What?" she wondered.
"You're brilliant," Harry told her, chuckling as he saw some nods of agreement. She blushed and smiled radiantly.
"Thank you, Harry."
"If the six of you do not mind, please come up here and cast the spell at the shield. I believe this will be instructive for everyone and, following that, we can move forward with the rest of the meeting."
Dumbledore, McGonagall, Lupin, and Mr. Weasley took their seats as the six of them made their way to the platform. Harry tried to ignore the sets of eyes he could feel burning into his back.
"I think you should go last, Harry," Luna stated. "Save the best for last."
"The best?" Harry asked, bemused.
She waved it off, climbing onto the platform. "You know what I mean." A pause, then: "Potens."
Her platinum sphere seemed at least as bright as McGonagall's had been, which surprised Harry for some reason. He knew he shouldn't be, because Luna really was a very powerful witch, but they were all just kids. Even with what he'd done to Voldemort at the Ministry, and his newfound connection with his own magical core, he still couldn't believe he had so much power inside of him.
779 – Sorceress
There were gasps from the assembled Order members. Luna looked pleased with herself as she stepped down. Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Ron were looking at her with awe; Harry had actually expected something like that number when he had seen how bright her spell was.
Neville went next; he had to borrow Harry's wand to cast the spell. Dumbledore assured them it wouldn't matter that it wasn't a perfect match.
804 – Sorcerer
Neville's eyes nearly flew out of his head; the gasps from the Order members were louder this time.
"Two of them?" someone muttered
"Nice one, Nev!" Harry said, his hand landing on his friend's shoulder as the other boy stepped down and handed back the wand.
"I had no idea…" he said.
"Really, Nev, after the D.A. this year, you should have known," Ginny commented, stepping onto the platform. She raised her wand and incanted.
776 – Sorceress
She pumped her fist in the air when she saw the result. The six of them were now ignoring the muttering and gasping going on behind them, though it was increasing in volume with each person.
"Ginevra Weasley, Sorceress," she told them, stepping down and smirking at them. She stepped to Neville's side and they gave each other a half-hug. Ron watched this but said nothing; he turned to the platform and gulped nervously.
"Ron, you have nothing to worry about," Hermione said. He turned to her, surprise on his face. "You may not like to study or ever do work, but when you do master a spell, it is always very powerful."
He nodded, thanked her, and stepped up. He set himself and cast the spell.
658 – Sorcerer
The grin on Ron's face at the result could have lit up London for days. They all congratulated him as he stepped down. Hermione squeezed Harry's hand one more time and finally let go, stepping forward and onto the platform. She set her self, a fiercely determined look on her face. Harry didn't think she could possibly look any sexier. An incredibly bright platinum orb flew from her wand, bright enough for them to have to shield their eyes from it. As their vision cleared, their eyes turned upward.
998 – Sorceress
"WHAT!" a familiar voice exclaimed, from behind them. "Surely that can't be correct—"
Dedalus Diggle cut himself off when Harry Potter whirled to face the table. His eyes were glowing green with power.
"And why not?" Harry asked, his voice low and laced with anger. "Because she's a Muggleborn? Because no one could possibly have more innate power than the Headmaster? None of the results have been questioned so far. Why do you question Hermione's?"
Everyone in the room could feel Harry's magic pressing on them; this partially abated when Hermione stepped down and laid her hand on Harry's arm, shaking her head.
"I…er…it was just…unexpected…" Diggle said, sounding quite frightened and pitiful.
"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said, softly, and pulled him into a loose embrace. The ambient magic drained out of the room.
"Anytime," Harry responded, reveling in her touch and her scent and her presence. The room was completely silent for several seconds.
"Your turn," Hermione whispered, her hot breath on his ear. He involuntarily shivered, causing Hermione to smile knowingly at him. He smiled back at her and she laughed, diffusing the tension even further. Harry turned to the platform and stepped onto it, looking at his wand. It was amazing that such a small, fragile thing could do so much good—or evil—in the world.
He pointed his wand at the shield, focused on the magical core he could so feel so readily within, and incanted, "Potens."
Harry was immediately forced to turn his head and close his eyes; the murmurs and noises of shock from all the others in the room told him they had all done the same thing. His spell had been too bright to even properly see through the blinding light it emanated.
As his vision cleared, he sought the numbers that would soon appear over the shield.
1404 - Mage