Chapter Seven - The Order of the Phoenix

It was not quite two weeks before the start of school. The Order of the Phoenix hadn't had a meeting since the small group had gathered in Dumbledore's office. Harry was frankly starting to wonder if they were going to do anything at all. So far, all of the action had been by Voldemort. He was making raids, abducting people, killing people, and yet the Order had done nothing. The Ministry hadn't done any attacking either, but at least they were readying their defences. Harry couldn't see any evidence that Dumbledore was doing anything.

Sirius opened his post that Saturday morning after breakfast and scowled fiercely as he read the contents of the message. He thrust the parchment away from him with disgust.

"Bad news?" Harry asked.

"There's finally another meeting."

"Well that's a good thing. When?"

"Tonight."

"Well, that's fine. I expect I should wear something sober so he doesn't think I'm playing a game." Harry began to plot his wardrobe. A dark green shirt with grey trousers and vest. Then his green robes over that.

"The letter says to come alone."

"What?"

"Dumbledore doesn't want me to bring you to a full meeting," Sirius said sourly.

Harry picked up the letter and glanced at it. Professor Dumbledore's neatly ornate handwriting with all of its loops and flourishes was unmistakeable.

"Sirius, this is talking about a Muggle opera. How can you tell?"

"Code. The particular lines he cited refer to a meeting, and the character who sings the lines goes alone. There are other lines in the song sung by people who go together, and that means all members should be told. When it's this summons, it's by invitation only."

"Well bugger that."

"My thoughts exactly," Sirius agreed. "I think he's worried about being too open about involving you."

"I'm already involved."

"I know, and that's why we're going to give you every weapon we can think of."

"So is this meeting at Malfoy Manor?"

"Yes."

Mr. Malfoy had offered up his home as headquarters when they'd had nowhere else to go. Though he himself could no longer go there, Mrs. Malfoy ruled the place now with an iron fist. The Order had set up shop in the east wing.

"I can't wait."

Yet wait he did. He was kept busy by his Apparition training, and he'd built on his earlier success. He could now easily Apparate across the room to a place he could see. Draco had managed the trick once, but he continued his efforts in that regard while Harry attempted to move from the duelling room to the hall outside.

After far too long, Mr. Malfoy called an end to the lesson. Harry was very glad, because he was getting frustrated at his partial success. He kept on moving only part of the distance. Thankfully he did not Splinch himself.

"I'm going to have a bath before lunch," he declared.

"Wonderful idea," Draco agreed. "I'll have one too. All this sweat has me smelling like stinksap. I'm as dirty as a Weasley, and that just Will Not Do. My muscles are so stiff I can barely move."

"Complain, complain, complain," Harry teased. "Would you like me to levitate you upstairs, or can you make it on your own?"

Draco contemplated that for a few moments, and Harry shoved him towards the door. The two boys headed up to the third floor. Mr. Malfoy and Remus had the two bedrooms on the opposite side of the house and shared the bath Harry now showed Draco to. The bath next to his room he shared with Sirius, whose bedroom was up on the fourth floor.

The hot water felt delightful, as it always did after a hard lesson. Harry was quite content to soak in the tub for an hour or so. Much relaxed and reinvigourated, he toweled off, got dressed, and headed down to lunch.

After a hearty meal, Harry and Draco headed back upstairs to attempt some more homework. They were nearly done with their holiday assignments, with only Professors McGonagall, Sinistra, and Binns left to satisfy. They had less than two weeks to get it done. Harry worried about the theoretical portion of Transfiguration; he was quite sure he could do any task old McGonagall asked of him without effort.

The time soon came to depart for the meeting.

"Harry, you've been to Malfoy Manor quite a lot. Do you think you could Apparate there?"

"Isn't it pretty far?"

"It is, but your familiarity with the destination will counteract the distance."

Harry shook his head. "I have no desire to Splinch myself again. Even if I do it right, I'll be exhausted. I'd probably nod off and start snoring in the meeting."

"As you will. Let's go then."

Sirius held out his hand, and Harry took it. Remus held out his hand to Draco. The four men Disapparated. The sickening crush lasted only a moment. The nausea was brief.

They were in the courtyard where water bubbled from the sea serpent fountain with a cheerful splashing.

The double doors were open, and one of the house elves stood there.

"Meeting is in the ballroom, sirs."

Mrs. Malfoy came along, undoubtedly alerted to their presence by another house elf.

"Hello, Harry, dear. Hello, Sirius, Remus. Draco, you and Harry go find your brother. Stay out of trouble, and stay out of the way."

"Yes, mum."

Mrs. Malfoy began talking quietly to Sirius and Remus as Harry and Draco headed upstairs.

"So they're keeping us out of the meeting," Harry said.

"Bunk. Who do they think they're dealing with? This is my home. I know all the secret passages. There's three of them with access to the ballroom alone."

"What if they move the meeting?"

"There's not a single room in this house, bedrooms aside, that you can't watch from a secret passage."

"Good."

"It's useless," Elan said, not even saying hello.

Elan looked a right mess. His hair was untidy, his clothes were wrinkled, and he hadn't shaved in several days.

"Obviously you haven't had a date lately," Harry observed cheekily.

"Blame Mother for that," Elan rued. "I can't go anywhere or the Death Eaters might snatch me up. I've had no social life all summer. Bridget asked me if I'm planning to break up with her. I had to write a foot of love note just to make her feel better."

"Poor thing," Draco said, offering not very sincere sounding comfort. "Doesn't she realize we're all in the same boat?"

"Women aren't rational like that, little brother."

"You don't need to tell me how crazy girls are," Draco retorted.

"You've got to treat them right, and when things like this happen where you can't, you've got to reassure them of your affections. Why do you think Parvati got so upset with you?"

"Can we not talk about her?"

"Sure."

"So do you want to go spy on the meeting with us?"

"What's the point? You're just going to get caught."

"Says you."

Harry followed Draco into a secret passage. He lit his wand and carefully trod the narrow steps down to the ground floor again.

"This will do. It's hard to focus on anything in the painting on the other side of this wall. It's a fruit bowl. I think the eyeslits are the grapes."

They'd gotten into place just in time. Remus and Sirius were already there, of course. They took seats and waited, exchanging idle chit-chat. Various members of the Order were arriving.

The next person to enter the room was Sirius' cousin, Nymphadora Tonks. She had a pale heart-shaped face, dark twinkling eyes, and short spiky hair. She'd switched off the bubblegum pink colour she'd worn last time Harry had seen her and had changed it to a more lively electric blue. Harry thought she'd fit right in with the girls from Wand Smasher.

"Hey, cousin. Hello, Remus."

"Hi, Tonks," Remus replied.

"'Dora," Sirius said.

Tonks made an awful face at him. "Why?"

"Because."

"Bite me."

"How's she do that?" Draco asked. "Her hair, I mean. Even Pansy doesn't know potions that can make those colours."

"Tonks is a morphagus or something," Harry replied. "She can change her shape at will and such. She told me about it last Easter."

"She chooses to change her hair colour?"

"Wouldn't you if you could?"

"I like my hair, thank you very much," Draco said primly.

"Good. Why don't you comb it?"

"Is it mussed?" Draco said with concern. He pulled his comb out of his pocket. "I need a mirror."

"Oh, shut up."

In the ballroom, a bald black wizard who wore a single gold hoop in his ear had arrived. He greeted Sirius, Remus, and Tonks in a deep, slow voice.

"Hiya, Kingsley," Tonks said brightly. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Good to see you, Kingsley," Remus said. "How are things at the Auror Division?"

"Very busy," the wizard called Kingsley replied. "Many new recruits to train. I find myself missing Moody, strange as it sounds."

"Moody is the best," Tonks said. She was also an Auror and had been Moody's last apprentice.

A squat, unshaven man in a tattered overcoat slouched into the room. He had short, bandy legs, long straggly ginger hair and bloodshot, baggy eyes that gave him the doleful look of a basset hound.

"Shacklebolt," the newcomer said. "Lupin, Black, Tonks."

"Hello, Dung," Remus replied. "Still smoking that infernal pipe, I see."

"I left it at home. Narcissa threatened to tell the whole world I've turned informant if I brought it into her house again. It would have been disasterous for me. How'd you know I smoked right before I came?"

Remus tapped his nose. "The nose knows, and that baccy you favour is none too mild, either."

"Dung?" Draco said to Harry. "What kind of name is that?"

"Mundungus Fletcher. Maybe his mother didn't like him very much. Remus and Sirius have mentioned him before."

The next to arrive was a silver-haired wizard with a wheezy voice. He sat down at the nearest chair and drank deeply from the glass of water that the house elves had set out. Before anyone could clue the spies as to his name, a stately-looking witch in an emerald green shawl entered the room followed by a square-jawed wizard with thick straw-colored hair and a pink-cheeked, black-haired witch.

Harry recognized none of them, but he did know Dedalus Diggle, whose distinctive violet top hat and short stature were unmistakeable. Harry had met Diggle on several occasions.

A number of other witches and wizards entered in groups of two and three. The room was rather quickly filling up.

Professor Snape arrived next. He spoke to no one, and no one spoke to him. He sat as far away from Sirius and Remus as he could, his hood up, and his hands concealed in the sleeves of his robe.

Mrs. Malfoy escorted Professors Dumbledore and Moody into the ballroom. They closed the door, and the room fell silent. Mrs. Malfoy seated herself at the table.

"Are we ready to begin?" Dumbledore asked. Nobody said otherwise. "Now, our first bit of business is the attacks on Muggles. The Ministry has been very busy responding to a number of unusual incidents, not least of which is-"

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," Moody said. "There's something I must attend to."

"Certainly, Alastor," Dumbledore said easily. Moody stumped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"As I was saying, the Ministry is dealing with a number of high-profile incidents. First and foremost is the collapse of the Brockdale Bridge last week. I am convinced that it was no accident. We suspect Death Eaters weakened critical support beams, and the bridge simply could not withstand the added stresses."

"How many people were hurt?" said Diggle.

"Some one hundred killed outright. Many more were wounded."

"So many dead?"

"Many were trapped in their cars and drowned."

"Disgusting." Diggle shook his head sadly. "He's going after large groups of Muggles bunched together and doing something spectacular. I have more to report about the Westminster tube bombing. It was no ordinary act of terrorism."

"Are you certain?" said Dumbledore.

"Magical residue saturates the site of the crash. There can be no doubt," Diggle said. "I cast the spells three times. Magic was involved in tampering with the brakes of the train and supercharging the very train itself with suppressed kinetic energy. I'm frankly surprised that the explosion wasn't bigger."

"Do the Muggles suspect anything?"

"No, they think it was just your run of the mill bombing. Several of their politicians are trying to pin it on leftover elements of the Irish Republican Army, but they're disavowing any responsibility."

"If they don't think anything out of the ordinary, I see no reason to enlighten them," Remus said. "It's not fair to the Irish, but telling them the truth would be much worse. If the Prime Minister were to suspect that we couldn't control the situation, who knows what sort of trouble we'd have to deal with? It could potentially break down the Statute of Secrecy."

"Which is precisely what Voldemort is hoping for," Dumbledore said. "He knows it will distract our efforts. He's more than content to simply kill all of the Muggles once he attains power. He can spin it any number of ways, but he knows we're going to try and protect both their lives and their ignorance."

"There was another attack last week," Tonks said. "The British Culinary Museum. The electrical system went berserk, the boiler room exploded, and the fire supression failed to operate. Perhaps fifty people died in the rush."

"That's the same modus operandi as what happened at the Bodleian Library," Remus said. "The place burned to the ground."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Such a loss. Knowledge is too precious a thing."

"In that, Professor, we are in agreement."

"All right, Potter, Malfoy. Come out of there."

Harry jumped. He turned around with dread in the pit of his stomach. Professor Moody's stern voice alone made Harry's knees wibble. He looked at Draco, who seemed in no better a state.

They climbed up the narrow staircase and stepped out of the secret passage. The awful gaze Moody was directing at the two boys could have melted ice.

"Hello, Professor."

Harry's attempt to act casual was bold. In his mind, they were already in loads of trouble for spying on the meeting as it was. Might as well play it cool.

"Don't be cute, Potter," Moody growled. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Being vigilant."

Moody snorted rudely. "Trying to be funny, are you?"

Harry shook his head. "Not at all, sir. They won't tell us anything, so we decided to find out for ourselves. How are we supposed to be ready when we're kept ignorant?"

"Precisely the argument I made," Moody admitted. "For what it's worth, I thought you should have been told everything straight away, but there's other factors at play here."

Moody's words perked Harry right up. Maybe they wouldn't get in trouble after all.

"But that went only for you. Malfoy, you have no business getting involved. Your father specifically prohibited it."

Draco was shaking his head. "It's not keeping us any safer. We have a right to know."

"Rights," Moody sneered. "I may have to put up with old Lucius, but I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater in my book."

"That's not fair, sir," Draco protested. "My father risked his life to save Harry. He betrayed the Dark Lord to his face. We're all dead if he catches us."

"You'd never turn back, eh? Once a turncoat, always a turncoat. Maybe that brother of yours would like to bow and scrape before Voldemort. Hasn't he already been seen wearing the mask and robes?"

Draco scowled. "That's a vicious lie. We've chosen a side."

"You've chosen your own side. You're out to save your own skins."

"The Dark Lord's rage knows no boundaries."

Moody closed his eyes for a moment. Harry didn't move, for he knew that the magical eye was most likely fixed firmly on them both.

"I'm going to require your oath, Malfoy. Your brother's too. If you won't give it, I'm going to tell your father and Dumbledore about this."

"Which oath?" Draco asked instantly. "An Unbreakable Vow?"

"No, if you broke that, you'd just drop dead. I have something a little more creative in mind."

"Well let's go find Elan."

Draco led them down the hall to his older brother's bedroom.

"Elan?" Draco said, knocking on the door. "Open up."

"What is it?"

"Someone wants a word with you."

The door opened, and Elan stood there, still as unkempt as before. Even with company in the house, he'd made no effort whatsoever to appear presentable.

"Moody." Elan's voice was cool.

"Malfoy." Moody's was just as frosty.

"He caught us spying on the meeting."

"I knew you'd get caught. I told you so. Why don't you ever listen to me?"

"He's agreed not to tell Father if we swear an oath."

"An Unbreakable Vow?"

"No, something far more painful."

"You're both going to swear by your magic," Moody said. "If you break this oath, you'll both be reduced to Squibs."

Elan choked. "That's horrible!"

"Yes, isn't it?" Moody said pleasantly. "There's nothing more awful to threaten a pureblood with. Magic is all that you have and all that you are. Without it, you're less than nothing. It's a promise I know you'll keep."

"Why am I being dragged into this?"

"Because you knew what they were about and said nothing. That's accessory before the fact."

Elan scowled. "Very well, Moody. What is this oath?"

Moody drew his wand. "Clasp your wand hands." He began to trace intricate patterns in the air.

"In the name of Merlin, greatest of our kind, I do bind you. Your magic is the security against falsehood. Oathbreakers will become no more than Squibs.

"Will you reject the Dark Lord called Voldemort and all of his empty promises?"

"I will," they said together.

"Will you keep secret anything you know or learn about the Order of the Phoenix?"

"I will."

"Will you accept the consequences for breaking this oath?"

"I will."

With the third vow, the clasped hands began to glow with a silvery light. Moody continued to trace patterns.

"Bah-weep-grana! Weep-ninni-bahm!"

The light flared, blinding Harry momentarily.

"There," Moody said, breathing heavily. "It is done. I'll trust you now, boys, because I trust in your own sense of self-preservation. If you attempt to break your oath, not only will you be unable to speak, but you'll instantly lose your magic. Moreover, I will know it."

"No worries about that, Professor," Draco said. "Now if there's nothing else, we've got a meeting to spy on."

Moody actually gave a small grin. It quickly vanished as he stumped away.

They got back into the secret passage as quickly as they could. Elan joined them now, and they returned just as Dumbledore was finishing up with the latest attacks.

"Going along with the attacks on Muggles are the strikes against Muggleborns and their families. I'm sad to say that some students will not be returning next year."

"Dead?" Sirius asked.

"Some. Others are so fearful that they are refusing to permit the children to come back. I've had several letters."

"A great loss," Shacklebolt remarked. "We need more students, not less."

"Yes, we must get more people to make a stand against the Dark Lord," Diggle said.

"Most of our support has come from the old families," Sirius said, "and we can thank Harry for that. He got to his friends early, and many have decided it's in their own best interests to support the Ministry."

"Still, the Ministry is not the Order," Shacklebolt said. "Have we had any more luck with those families who have not yet made up their minds?"

"Some," Dumbledore answered. "Many are fearful. As you remember, Molly Weasley's brothers died in the last war, so she has been very resistant about getting involved. I've approached her husband Arthur. He knows our cause is righteous, and I may be wearing him down."

"The more Ministry people we can get on our side, the better," Shacklebolt said. "The Dark Lord will have many spies trying to gather information. We'll need to counter that. Weasley isn't very important anymore, not that he ever really was, but I think he's got the sense to use this crisis as an opportunity."

"Kingsley, what can you tell us from the Auror Division?" Sirius asked. "The Dark Lord has had his own personal fortress all summer. Surely we're not going to let him keep it."

"We have finally finished working out the plan. The strike force is being assembled, and as soon as they are equipped, the Aurors will launch their attack against- against-"

Auror Shacklebolt's face grew blank, and he blinked several times. He was speechless for a few seconds. He tried to recover himself.

"Against- against the target. We expect full penetration and maximum body count. If we can kill the Dark Lord, we will. If not, we will capture him."

"Excuse me, Kingsley," Dumbledore interjected. "Where are they striking?"

"I told you," Shacklebolt replied, a drop of sweat rolling down his face.

"No, you didn't."

"You know."

"No," Dumbledore said quietly. "I don't."

The room gasped.

Dumbledore looked Shacklebolt dead in the eye. "Do you remember, Kingsley?"

The pause lasted an eternity. One could have heard a feather drop.

"No."

"We have forgotten where his fortress is," Professor Snape pronounced, the first words he'd yet spoken in the meeting. "The Dark Lord has cast powerful magic."

"The Fidelius Charm." Dumbledore of course knew the answer. "It is the only spell that could affect all of us."

"He's made himself unassailable," Sirius said bitterly.

"The trouble with extremely helpful protective magicks is that the enemy can use them too," Dumbledore observed with a sigh. "I might have expected as much. He was always a quick study. He has seen how well the Fidelius works for us, and so he borrows the tactic."

"Well now what?" Sirius demanded.

"Severus will eventually be summoned and be told the Secret. He cannot reveal it to us, but we may be able to devise ways of utilizing the knowledge."

"What else? How can the Ministry do anything? How can we?"

"We will find a way, Sirius. This too shall pass."

"That's a right blow," Draco whispered. "How are they supposed to fight him if they can't find him?"

"They can't," Elan said shortly. "Merlin's blistering fireballs, why does the Dark Lord have to be smart?"

"Because he's an evil wizard. Being smart kind of goes with the territory."

"Forget him and his territory," Harry said firmly. "I'm going to get him no matter how many rabbits he pulls out of his hat."

"What?" Draco was clearly confused.

"Oh, that's what Muggles call magic. The vanishing cabinet? Sawing a lady in half?"

"What?"

"Have I really never talked about this?" Harry wondered.

"Maybe I wasn't paying attention."

"Well it's all illusion, isn't it? Misdirection. Trickery. Smoke and mirrors."

"Sounds like being a Slytherin."

"Don't be flip."

"I'm not! I really mean that."

"Anyway. Part of the usual magician costume is a top hat. He will take it off his head and show it to the crowd, completely empty. Then he'll put it on the table upside down and cover the opening with a handkerchief. He'll say some rot that's supposed to be magic words, wave a silly black wand with white tips over it, and tap the hat with it Voila! He whips off the handkerchief. He reaches into the hat and pulls out a white bunny rabbit."

"That's absurd. Why would you want a rabbit? What possible use could you have for a rabbit?"

"Stew?"

"Well, there is that."

"Why are we talking about rabbits?" Elan asked, sounding very confused.

"Harry brought it up."

"I was just saying that Fidelius is a neat trick."

"Do they need rabbits to cast the spell?"

"Elan, give it up."

They turned back to the meeting.

"Igor Karkaroff is dead," Snape said. "The Death Eaters caught up with him over Portugal. His head is currently mounted on a spike in the yard at the prison. The Dark Lord considers it a motivating display. Certainly no one wishes to join it."

Dumbledore sighed. He shook his head slightly, suddenly seeming very sad. "He also turned against Voldemort?"

"He was too cowardly to return. When he felt the summons, he ran, but there is no river he could cross, no mountain he could climb, that would put him beyond the Dark Lord's wrath."

"I assume he suffered greatly before he was allowed to die."

"He lasted only half a day."

"I never thought much of Karkaroff," Harry said, "but he didn't seem the Death Eater sort."

Draco snorted. "He was exactly the Death Eater sort."

They looked back to the meeting, but things seemed to be wrapping up. The boys hurried to get back to Elan's room where they were supposed to be keeping out of the way.

"Quick, get out the cards," Draco said.

When Sirius came to collect Harry, they were well into a game of Exploding Snap. Draco was winning, and Elan was nursing sore fingers.

"Ready to go home?" Sirius asked.

"But I am home," Draco replied cheekily.

"Draco, you would be a much more pleasant lad if you didn't insist on being such a smartass."

"It's part of my charm."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Good night, Harry. See you tomorrow."

"Cheers, mate. G'night, Elan."

"Later, Harry. Draco, put that card back!"

Leaving the brothers to squabble over the game, Harry and Sirius headed downstairs to the courtyard where Mrs. Malfoy and Remus were chatting casually.

"Shall we?" Remus asked.

"We shall. It's long past dinner time."

Harry was getting so used to Apparition that he barely felt any dizziness at all. He headed directly for the dining room, where Kreacher served a sumptuous meal for the three famished wizards. Mr. Malfoy had eaten earlier and was writing more correspondence for the Ministry war effort. When he had finished eating, Remus turned in early, leaving Harry and Sirius alone.

"Sirius?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I spied on the Order meeting."

"I see. All of it?"

"Lots of it."

"So that's where Moody went. You saw everything?"

"Heard more than saw."

"So you know about Voldemort's fortress?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's awful, isn't it? What are we going to do? How can we hope to beat him when we don't even know where he is?"

"We'll figure something out."

"How?"

"We're going to be clever. We're going to out-think this."

"Good thing Snape's working on it," Harry said.

"Yes, Snape's always been a tricky one."

"So you're not mad I disobeyed you?"

Sirius sighed. "Harry, I want to. Believe me, I want very much to be upset with you, but I just can't bring myself to do it. You are your father's son. He snuck around and got into mischief, a great deal of it with me. You sneak around and get into mischief too. You do realize the deck has been stacked against me since day one? Lily, now, she would have her knickers in a knot. For her sake, I am going to punish you."

"Right, I'm grounded," Harry said seriously. "No leaving the house, no trips to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, and no Floo access."

"You're also going to bed at eight o'clock," Sirius added. "I know there's not a lot I can take away from you, but you are grounded."

"Sirius!"

"No, Harry, you didn't do as you were told, and now there's a consequence. Every night until you go back to school, bedtime is at eight."

Harry grumbled a bit, but deep down he knew he deserved to be punished a bit. He'd deliberately disobeyed, and now he had to pay the piper.

"Now then, it's become clear to me that you're going to get involved whether we want you to or not. So, we need you to work with us, and we need to do it without Dumbledore finding out."

"Then let's go talk to the one person who will keep my secret even though he doesn't want to."

Sirius' eyes clouded with confusion for only a moment. "Snape?"

"Professor Snape. He's my Head of House."

"You trust Snape that much?"

"I do. He's already keeping at least one huge secret for me."

"What's that?"

"The basilisk. He knows she's still alive, and he didn't tell Dumbledore."

"I didn't realize that. Well, what do you know? Maybe Snape is the right one to talk to."


The next day, Sirius brought Harry up to Hogwarts. They went immediately down to the dungeons. Harry led the way to Professor Snape's office and knocked firmly on the door.

"Enter."

Harry opened the door. "Hello, Professor."

"Mister Potter, what brings you to my door today?"

"Order business," Harry said bluntly.

"You are not in the Order."

"I want to be. I should be. I want to fight."

"He's in earnest, Snape. Go on, Harry."

"I say this to you as my Head of House," Harry said. "I want it to stay between us."

"So it shall."

"I spied on the Order meeting last night."

Snape was startled, something not often achieved. He raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sirius.

"I'll keep doing it, too. I'm going to face him again. He'll see to it, even if I don't. I've got to be ready."

"This is true. Many times this summer, he has proclaimed his desire to slay you."

"Will you help me, sir?"

Snape considered the question for a whole minute. "Yes, Harry, I will help you. In so much as I am able, I will help."

"We want to tell you as much as we can, Harry," Sirius said, "and there's something very important that you should be aware of. Tell him what's in the Department of Mysteries, Snape."

"You cannot be serious, Black."

"I'll save the joke. I mean it, Snape. Tell him."

"I thought you wanted to know about raids and information-gathering, who the Death Eaters are trying to corrupt, and so on."

"This is more important."

Snape folded his hands and gazed steadily at Harry, saying nothing. Harry once again felt the crazy feeling he sometimes got that Snape could read his mind.

"Have you ever wondered why the Dark Lord so desires to kill you, Mister Potter?"

"Yes!" Harry said fervently. "Nobody will answer the question."

"Sixteen years ago, there was a prophecy given predicting that the Dark Lord would be defeated. I overheard it as it was being uttered. This was before I saw the error of my past ways, and I told the Dark Lord every word I heard."

"Will you tell me?"

"There is no risk in telling you what the Dark Lord already knows. 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.'"

At last! Harry finally knew why he'd been a target, why his parents had been murdered. The mystery of his life, always tantilizingly out of reach, was now revealed. A prophecy. A vision that he would wield great power and destroy Voldemort.

Oddly, he should have been terrified but was not. He'd known for four years that he would one day seek out Voldemort and try to kill him. Now he knew he could succeed. That knowledge gave him a warm feeling of security.

"There is more to it, but that is all I heard. It is all I told the Dark Lord."

"How can we find the rest of it out?"

"The only one who knows is the person who heard it."

"Who is that?"

"Dumbledore."

"It always comes back to that old wizard," Harry rued bitterly.

"That's enough, Mister Potter," Snape said sternly. "Dumbledore has done more to advance the cause of Light than any other in the modern era. His wisdom is immeasurable."

"More like invisible," Harry muttered, but deeply under his breath.

"But we don't need to ask him," Sirius said. "Recorded prophecies are kept in the Department of Mysteries. This prophecy is there too."

"I want to go have a listen."

"Now that may be a bit more problematic. Only people named in prophecy are permitted to hear it."

"Why?" Harry demanded petulantly.

"A powerful curse lays over the Hall of Prophecy," Snape said. "To remove a prophecy engenders madness unless one is named in it."

"I'm not about to take you out in public. There are far too many unknown factors at the Ministry. I won't have us walk into a trap."

"But Sirius!"

"No." His godfather's voice was very firm. "It will wait. It's enough that you know you have the power to win. Voldemort was already trying to kill your parents. When he heard of this prophecy, he knew it could be his undoing. He came after you, and we all know what happened as a result. You are the only one with the power and ability to destroy him.

Sirius was right. Whatever else the prophecy might say, Harry knew enough. He would not fail in his quest.

There was little else to say, so Sirius and Harry left Snape to his brewing. Harry wanted to go see Theo since they were at school anyway. They found him in the library.

"Hey, Theo." Harry shivered as Theo's eyes pierced him. It truly was like the lights were on but nobody was home. "Good to see you out and about."

Theo turned back to the book in front of him. His unkempt brown hair, which was longer than it had ever been, fell forward and obscured his face.

"Did you catch the match between Portree and Wimbourne a couple of nights ago?" Quidditch would be a safe topic that might get Theo talking again.

Theo shook his head. He flipped the page.

"Portree won, six hundred to four hundred. The snitch just did not want to come out and play. All in all it lasted three hours. Sam O'Neill set a club scoring record."

Theo didn't seem to care.

And so it went with anything Harry mentioned. After failing to elicit interest in Quidditch, the on-going Lockhart scandal, the difficulty of the holiday assignments, and Wand Smasher's new album, Harry lapsed into silence himself. He pulled a copy of Hogwarts: A History off the shelf and began to read.

They remained for about an hour, reading together in silence, when Theo yawned and stood up. He did look at Harry with what seemed like a grateful expression, then he headed for the door.

Sensing that the visit had come to an end, Harry and Sirius Apparated back to Grimmauld Place, and Harry threw himself into his Apparition practice with renewed determination.

Over lunch, Sirius and Mr. Malfoy talked about the war effort. Harry tried to pay attention, but the Ministry budget really was dead boring. He couldn't care less how the Ministry found the Galleons needed to pay for this or that training program. Only when the talk turned to other matters did Harry perk up a bit.

"Now then, I have spoken to many fine citizens in the past months," Mr. Malfoy said, swirling his wine in the glass. "Excellent colour, this, cousin. My compliments." He sipped a tiny bit and smiled as it rolled over his tongue.

"Thank you, Lucius."

"Two people who have not returned my correspondence are Hector Goyle and Basil Crabbe. I am certain that they have given into their fear and committed themselves to the Dark Lord. Given that their boys share a dormitory with our boys, this is particularly bothersome. I am quite obviously reluctant to call on them in person or through the Floo."

"So what do you have in mind?" Sirius asked.

"If they will not respond to me, perhaps they will respond to Harry."

"Crabbe and Goyle promised me they wouldn't get caught up in some stupid plot."

"The Imperius Curse can make one break any promise."

"They were rubbish at resisting it," Harry remembered.

"It is a good sign that they do not want to be Death Eaters, but they might not have a choice about it. Their fathers could pressure and intimidate them into it. We need to persuade Basil and Hector that they should change their play."

"You think they'll respond if I write to them?"

"It is worth trying. See if you can set up a meeting so that you all can talk. They have heard the Dark Lord's terms. Maybe they will like ours better."

"You gents take care of the letters," Sirius said. "I'm going to call Director Bones and call in a favour."

"You have favours with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" Mr. Malfoy asked with slight astonishment.

"I have unlimited favours with MLE. Funny what sort of terms you can wrangle when suing the government for millions of Galleons. Everyone wants to be my friend."

"You may claim to hate the game, cousin, but you play it extremely well."

"I am a Black," Sirius said with a twisted smile. "We learn the game in our cradles."

Harry fetched quill and ink. He was particularly fond of this quill set, a gift as it had been from Mr. and Mrs. Crabbe for Christmas his first year at Hogwarts. He dutifully wrote the phrases that Mr. Malfoy instructed him to write. Regal was sent on his way, with instructions not to wait for a reply.

It took a bit of back and forth, but eventually the meetings had been set. Hogsmeade. Hogs Head inn. Harry, Sirius, Mr. Crabbe and his son, and Mr. Goyle and his son.

Sirius' firecall to Director Bones had been very productive. The Aurors had been alerted to the meeting and were waiting nearby, to arrest the two Death Eaters if they could not be persuaded to turn against Voldemort.

Harry sat at a booth with Sirius. Remus was sitting nearby, hood drawn up to conceal his identity. Several other patrons, in reality Aurors in disguise, were in the bar at this time of the day, so they did not look completely obvious.

Goyle arrived first. He walked behind his father, not looking up as they approached the table.

"Mister Goyle," Harry said. He stood to greet the man politely. Though he could have sat and projected his superior status, common courtesy went a long way. Sitting was what Voldemort would do.

"Harry," Mr. Goyle said gruffly.

"Will you sit?"

They did.

"When my son told me you wanted to speak with me, I dismissed him. I wanted no part of anyone my master wants to kill. Instead of accepting my word, my son was very rude to me. I raised him right, so I knew there must be a reason. Here I am. What do you want to say to me?"

"I want you to reject your master," Harry said immediately. If he wanted to get down to business, so be it. "I want you to consider just how bad of an idea it is to support him."

"I thought as much," Mr. Goyle said. "It would be a worse idea to support you, Harry. The depths of the Dark Lord's cruelty and imagination know no boundaries. What can you offer me to risk such torments?"

"The promise of not tormenting you?" Harry replied cheekily. "Those who fight with me do so because they choose to, not because they are threatened."

"You are but a boy. You cannot know the Dark Lord's power."

"I have the Dark Lord's power," Harry declared. "Shall I demonstrate? Serpensortia!" The snake that emerged from Harry's wand was non-poisonous, but the markings were similar to those of a deadly species.

"Snakes!" Mr. Goyle yelped.

"Come here to me," Harry commanded the snake. He held out his hand. The snake slithered towards him and wrapped itself around his hand and arm. "Rest for now."

All of the blood had drained from Mr. Goyle's face. He was the colour of raw bread dough.

"P-p-parseltongue!"

"I speak it. Snakes are mine to command. All snakes. Even the king of snakes would obey me."

Harry let him digest that tidbit for a few seconds.

"Voldemort's powers are not unique. He gained them somehow. He just happens to have a lot of them, but he can be fought. He can be beaten. He can be defeated. Help me to do it."

Mr. Goyle continued to stare at the snake. He was not a man of towering intellectual capacity, and Harry's little display seemed to have quite overwhelmed him. His mouth worked silently.

"He is not unbeatable. The more people who join the fight, the sooner his power will crumble and he will fall. Don't you want to be on the right side when that happens?"

Mr. Goyle wasn't responding.

"Think about your family," Harry implored. "Don't you want them to be able to live without fear? To be able to raise their heads without incurring the wrath of a madman? Damn it, man, where's your pride?"

Mr. Goyle's head snapped up. Something like fire burned in his tiny eyes.

"If you choose him, all you are is a lacky. You'll bow and scrape and prostrate yourself before him. If you're lucky you'll avoid being tortured. Sounds like loads of fun to me." Harry couldn't help his sarcasm. "If you choose me, once he's undone and destroyed, you can go do whatever you want."

"But who can stand against him?"

"Dumbledore, for one," Harry said, knowing that Goyle would know it was true, "and he hasn't had much luck with me either."

Harry stared Goyle, Sr. down. Every ounce of his willpower was bent on convincing the man to make the right choice. He barely blinked, and only when Goyle looked away. Time and again, his eyes came back to Harry's. Sweat beaded on his brow.

"All right," Goyle burst out. "All right." He lowered his face into his hands. "Merlin preserve us, I don't want to live like that."

"That's good," Harry said, relief flooding through him. "Then you'll join us?"

"Yes."

Sirius stood up and guided Mr. Goyle out the back door to where the Aurors waited. They took him away to headquarters to debrief him. Sirius returned to the table.

"Good show."

"I'm glad he saw sense."

"I hope Crabbe's dad does the same."

They had set the second meeting an hour after the first. Harry and Sirius ordered lunch. The last dishes were just being cleared away when Mr. Crabbe arrived. He was alone.

Harry stood to greet him.

Crabbe crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, I'm here. Say your piece."

"Let's sit."

"I don't intend to stay long."

This wasn't going well.

"I'm here to offer you a way out. You don't have to serve Voldemort anymore."

Crabbe flinched. "Don't say his name. He can hear when you do. He is all-powerful. I dare not oppose him."

"He's not all-powerful."

"He is."

"His powers are not unique," Harry said, feeling things starting to slip away. "Let me show you. Serpensortia!"

The same sort of snake emerged from his wand and slithered across the table. Crabbe's eyes widened, but to his credit, he didn't flinch away.

"Come to me," Harry hissed. The snake coiled around his forearm.

"Yes, Vincent told me you could speak to snakes. That is very impressive, but it is insignificant next to the power of the Dark Lord."

"He has failed to kill me several times now."

"Luck."

"Or incompetence." Harry knew he was being a bit cheeky with that comment, but he couldn't help himself. "He fears me, you know. He knows I can beat him. Why else would he have tried to kill me so many times? What did I ever do to him?"

Crabbe didn't answer.

"I have the power to fight him. I can destroy him. You should be with me when it happens."

"You won't be destroying anybody, Potter."

Crabbe's right arm came up, wand in his hand, somehow drawn on the sly.

"Avada-"

Sirius sent the table flying without a single magic word, smashing the wood into Crabbe again and again. Swears and oaths were shouted, and the undercover Aurors at the bar cast their own spells. Within moments, Crabbe was neatly trussed like a Christmas turkey with his wand rolling slightly on the floor beside him.

Sirius put his own wand away and knelt down to peer in Crabbe's face.

"That was really stupid, Crabbe. So tremendously, colossally stupid, it defies description. You just earned yourself a life sentence in wizard prison, my friend."

"There is no prison!" Crabbe snarled.

"So I'm powerfully curious to see just what they're going to do to you, Death Eater," Sirius said pleasantly. "Take him away!"

Harry still sat at the booth, frozen with shock.

"Crabbe's dad just tried to kill me."

"Bloody foolish, too," Sirius said, "but let's not waste time. Take my hand."

They Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

"I'm getting better at this. Having to drag you along everywhere is certainly sharpening my skills."

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there. I can go from one room to another now."

"That's excellent, and you're almost there. Now you just need to be able to go long distances. Try going from floor to floor. In fact, now's a perfect time for a lesson."

"I think I'm too distracted to try," Harry said. "I'd Splinch myself. Crabbe's dad tried to kill me."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I just need to think about it for awhile. Maybe later."

"I'm here for you, Harry. Whenever you need me."

"Thanks, Sirius."

"But if you're up for it, this does seem like a good opportunity to show you all about Locking Hexes."

Harry nodded. He paid close attention as Sirius showed him how to cast a containment field, cast the spells, harmonize the thing and so on. Nonetheless, over and over in his mind, Basil Crabbe's wand flashed out and the terrible words tumbled from his lips. In Harry's imagination, horrible scenarios played out.

"Avada Kedavra!" The words of the curse were completed, and green light flared at the tip of his wand. Sirius, having seen the wand, lunged forward, knocking Harry aside, but the green light struck him in the chest. He stopped, standing still, a sort of confused question in his face. Then he fell over forward. He lay on the ground and didn't move.

Harry interrupted Sirius' lesson with a sudden hug. He wrapped his arms tight around his godfather and held on. Sirius was a bit surprised by the show of affection, but he squeezed Harry right back.

"It's all right, Harry."

"It could have gone so bad."

"But it didn't. We all went home safely."

"What if he'd gotten that spell off?"

"No chance. It takes too long to say. I already had my wand out just in case, and when he went for his, I moved the table. It would have taken the first curse, and then I would have had my wand in his eye. Trust me, Harry, we've planned many clandestine meetings. We've learned a lot from things that went bad."

"I know." Harry knew Sirius and Remus knew what they were doing. Mr. Malfoy also had a hand in the plan, so it was that much stronger. It still rankled at him. "I'm just worried about you."

"I know, but we do everything we can to minimize the risk. We plan, and we prepare."

Harry felt somewhat better. He tightened his hug for a few moments and then relaxed.

"Thanks, Sirius. Now about this Locking Hex."