~ Chapter Ten ~

Severus returned to Hogwarts after examining the welts on Harry's arms for several minutes. At one point, he had tried to move Harry's shirt aside, but when the boy's immediate response had been to accidently topple half the order off their chairs with his burst of panicked magic, Snape had left well enough alone. He determined that a potion would be safer to cure the magical burns, rather than using a charm and sending even more magic coursing through Harry's body that day. Fred walked in right after Snape left and rolled Harry's trunk into the kitchen.

"Where did you get that?" Molly demanded, gesturing to the trunk and shooting daggers at her sons with her eyes.

"Harry's aunt and uncle's house," George answered for his brother, stepping next to his twin so that they were shoulder to shoulder.

"What were you thinking going there?! Do you have any idea what the ministry is going to do when they detect your magic by his house? Of all the reckless, irresponsible, selfish-"

"They didn't detect any magic the first two times George and I went to the house this summer," Fred cut her off in irritation. "You really still think we have mush for brains, don't you? We apparate to a park several blocks over, and don't use a scrap of magic until we apparate back from the same spot. George and I figured SOMEONE ought to consider that Harry might want his things at some point, and we weren't about to leave him alone with you lot." The tirade was uncharacteristic for the twins who hardly made it through single sentences on their own. Fred, however, was fuming; with each statement his voice rose until he was nearly shouting at the end.

"And you think you'll do a better job protecting him the entire Order? Really Fred." Mrs. Weasley's tone was scornful and many of the witches and wizards in the room shifted uncomfortably at the way she was speaking to one of her own children.

"Yes," George answered simply, laying a hand on his brother's shoulder in warning. "I think we'll do a much better job at protecting Harry." There was an exaggerated emphasis on the name, and the boy in question looked up at them questioningly. Dumbledore cleared his throat and spoke kindly, though there was an edge of caution in his voice as well. As he spoke, Snape strode silently through the fireplace and surveyed the scene before him with raised eyebrows.

"Your loyalty to your friend is impressive, but I assure you everyone in this room would do anything needed to keep Harry safe."

"See that's the thing professor." Fred began.

"The Order of the Phoenix was created to fight Voldemort…"

"…and we have no doubt you would take whatever measures necessary to protect The Boy Who Lived…"

"…but we haven't seen a scrap of evidence to show that a single one of you has Harry at the top of your priority lists."

"You protect your weapon, we'll protect our friend." They finished in unison.

There was an uproar of protests following the twins' accusation, order members jumping to their feet all around the room accompanied by shouts of indignation and dramatic gestures of outrage as they tried to emphasize their statements. The scene very well could have escalated to something far more violent were it not for the loud, furious barking that drew the entire room's attention to the small raven-haired boy curled in a ball on the floor beside his chair, tears leaking down his cheeks and fingernails drawing blood from his palms where he tried to physically hold the magic back from escaping. Black transformed immediately back into a human, leaning over his Godson with a look of anguish as soon as the others had realized what their fighting was doing.

To the shock of the entire room and clear discomfort of Sirius, it was Mad-Eye and none other than Snape who pushed the others aside to be at Harry's side. Moody's magical eye seemed to be tracing the outline of Harry's body, and he was murmuring a steady stream of updates to the potions master about the points of escape he saw the wild magic spurting from. Severus, for his part, was holding a series of vials in his hands and staring intently into Harry's eyes and for once speaking to the young Gryffindor without a sneer.

"Potter, you need to focus. Stop panicking and focus, damnit! Concentrate inside. You need to find the core of your magic. Feel where it is and start wrapping your magic around it in your mind. Pay attention to what I'm saying Potter! You need to reel the magic back in. Let go of your emotions and become a blank slate. Your emotions are only feeding into your loss of control." Snape's voice was sharp but steady, and he never once faltered in his eye contact with Harry, even when waves of wild magic swept over him.

Harry began to sit up shakily, his lips moving in silent repetition of the instructions being fed to him, clinging desperately to the words as an anchor. Snape held up a hand to silence Moody's quiet report, and the older man quickly limped back from the pair.

"Everyone out." Snape whispered into the silence with icy finality, and even Dumbledore turned to shoo the others from the room without argument, only throwing one last assessing glance over his shoulder to where his potions professor was passing vial after vial to his young patient, lips closed tightly as though literally holding back his words. The only one who remained behind was Sirius, but after a single squinty-eyed glare from Snape he transformed silently into his canine form and lay on a rug in the far corner, willing to watch from across the room but not prepared to actually leave.

Snape watched the boy in front of him sharply, more troubled by the bright look of pain in Harry's eyes than he would ever admit. Despite his strong disdain for the spoiled, self-centered son of James Potter, he knew that this predicament at least was out of the boy's control and not the result of yet another reckless scheme. He may not be the most caring teacher, but he had seen more than enough in his lifetime to learn to despise unnecessary pain. Luckily, Potter was a Gryffindor and a hot-headed Potter of a Gryffindor at that; the best way to get him to fight back against the wild magic would be to mock the determination into him, and Severus could hardly complain about that.

"Tsk tsk, hardly stepped back in the wizarding world and you're already wreaking destruction in your path and endangering the lives of everyone around you. Your useless father would have been proud." Snape sneered, keeping a careful ear on the growling coming from the other side of the room and his fingertips brushing over his wand out of self-preservation. He waited for the shouting and whining, or at least the ignorant comeback and self-righteous glare.

Harry's only response was to lower his gaze to the floor between them, and Snape quickly cast a series of spells to check his vitals and magical signature. Could he have miscalculated the dosage on one of his potions? Was Harry still in pain after all? But the scans all came back normal, and Severus' frown deepened. He gathered his thoughts and tried again, though not before casting a wordless silencing charm first. True, Black was no werewolf in his animagus form, but Snape still had no desire to attract the grim-like creature's anger. From over in his corner, Sirius' head perked up and his ears swiveled at the loss of sound from across the room.

"And just think, now you have once again gotten a talent handed to you on a silver platter. You'll be the center of attention without having to even lift a finger in effort; yes, your slug scum of a father would be quite proud." Snape scoffed, voice dripping with sarcasm. He waited again for the typical tantrum or look of hate, but saw only defeat and despair in Potter's eyes and the slump of his shoulders.

Snape sprang to his feet, fighting to continue looking down his nose in distaste while on the inside his thoughts were spinning. Behind him, canine growls could be heard as Sirius rose to his feet, ears pinned back and teeth bared menacingly.

"Try not to do anything especially stupid, Potter." Snape said as way of farewell, unable to bring himself to say anything more cutting when his rival was clearly so damaged already.

And perhaps that is the problem, he thought despite himself, as professor and swirling robes vanished into the fireplace, silencing charm dissolving behind him. It was never really the boy who was my enemy.

XxXxXxXxX

Out in the hallway, members of the Order looked on in various degrees of discomfort as Arthur Weasley stood miserably between his wife and twin sons, clearly trying and failing to mediate the animated argument taking place. While the shouting was muffled down to indecipherable mumblings through the silencing ward Bill had cast around them as soon as he stepped into the hall, there was no hiding the snarling faces and harsh gestures from both sides, or the look of cold dismissal in Molly's eyes. Bill himself had tried to step between them, but Dumbledore had caught his attention and asked softly to speak with him. After a few reluctant looks back towards his family, he had conceded and followed the headmaster to the far end of the hall, where they now stood in hushed conversation.

"Bill, thank you for your quick thinking and help this morning. Remus says you were invaluable in dealing with the Dursleys and getting the Order members away from the scene before the ministry appeared." Bill's gut twisted as he began to see where this was all going, but he forced himself to stay outwardly calm, if for no other reason than the need to get back to his family as quickly as possible.

"Thank you, sir." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled sadly, and Bill new that the white-haired wizard could see right through his act.

"I know I've spoken with you about this possibility, but I had truly hoped to put it off until much later, if at all… your connections with Gringotts are invaluable to the Order, and not only will a return from Egypt to the main branch in Diagon Alley provide a much greater source of inside information, but we need your level head and magical talent here, where we can call on it. If you are still willing, it's time for you to transfer back home." It was said in such a way that implied Bill could back out, but both men knew that this was what Bill had committed to when joining the Order, and denying the request would never be an option in his mind. However, that didn't mean he couldn't get something positive out of the move.

"Professor, I will of course go wherever you and the Order need me. If I may, though, I have a favor to ask of you as well."

"Ah?" Dumbledore remarked curiously, bushy eyebrows rising beneath the brim of the bright purple pointed hat he had chosen to wear. "And might this favor have anything to do with the brawl I feel is only moments away behind your silencing ward?" Bill blushed furiously, and looked anxiously towards his family.

"It's Fred and George. They… they're going through a rough patch, just need some time to figure things out. Nothing that could harm the Order, I promise you, but mum… I know she's trying to help, truly, but she may have… overstepped a bit this time? And I don't think it's really helping anyway. If you could just… suggest, maybe…" Bill trailed off, searching for a way to ask for help without incriminating his mother for taking the twins' wands.

"Overstepped how?" Bill didn't answer the headmaster's question immediately, and the old man smiled kindly. "I'll hardly hold it against her, Bill, whatever it was; I've had a few family disagreements of my own in my time." Bill still looked uncertain, but after a moment of debate and another anxious glance down the hall, he acquiesced.

"She took their wands away, and locked them in separate rooms. She put a securing jinx on the rooms that made the doors disappear. I know she just wanted to make sure they had some time apart, but…" If Dumbledore was surprised or offended by Mrs. Weasley's actions, he didn't show it. Instead, he simply nodded thoughtfully, before asking,

"Is there concern of them harming each other if they are allowed access to their wands?"

"No! No, nothing like that." Bill assured him, tugging nervously on his earring once more, frantic to think of what to say if asked why his mother was upset in the first place.

He need not have worried. Dumbledore simply smiled and nodded to him before striding merrily back up the hallway and brushing Bill's ward aside with a casual wave of his hand. Bill blinked in surprise then merely rolled his eyes at the sheer impossibility that was Albus Dumbledore.

XxXxXxXxX

Alastor Moody stood quietly in the shadows at one end of the hallway and observed the chaos of his fellow Order members with scrutiny. Emotions were high on all sides, but while the Weasley twins had certainly jumped to conclusions in some areas, their accusations held merit. True, the blood-wards at Harry's relatives' home provided protection, but would headquarters not have done exactly the same thing? And how often did Order members fill the kitchen at number 12 and spend hours debating and strategizing the future of the one young man never invited to the planning sessions? Weasley boys his age and older were sheltered from Order happenings to protect their childhoods, and yet Harry took lead in every long-term defense plan discussed.

Moody's magical eye spun around to peer into the next room where Potter knelt, head hanging sorrowfully, and listened to whatever Snape was saying. He thought of the look of fierce determination that had been on the boy's face in the graveyard when he stood to sacrifice himself in hopes of letting the chubby boy (the muggle cousin, he had later learned) escape. How many times had the-boy-who-lived already been expected to act as martyr for the good of others, and to what thanks? No, Moody could easily understand the twins' frustration. What was beginning to really bother him was that Harry himself had yet to express such anger himself. With narrowed eyes, the ex-auror limped across the hallway and slipped into the kitchen while the potions master disappeared into the fireplace once more.

"…just like your father." Sirius was saying as the door snicked shut, and Moody made a mental note of the way Potter flinched away from his godfather's soft words. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the crestfallen look on the scruffy man's face; he gave the very apt impression of a kicked puppy.

"Potter," Moody growled, "Can you control yer magic boy?" There was neither accusation nor coddling in his voice, and the man waited calmly as Harry sat up straight and met his eyes, considering his answer carefully.

"What Snape said helped," he began carefully. Moody did not move save to blink, waiting for the young man to continue. Harry sighed and shook his head. "But no, I don't think I can control it. I'm sor-"

"Not yer fault." Alastor cut in quickly. "Every young witch and wizard goes through this when they come into their full power."

"Does everybody hurt people like I do then?" Harry snapped, his voice cracking guiltily.

"You didn't hurt anyone!" Sirius insisted, and Moody gave him props for stopping himself as he reached out to comfort the boy. "Harry, look at the marks down your body. You did that to make sure no one got hurt." His godson didn't flinch away for once, but he still shook his head despondently.

"But it didn't always work. I kept slipping up, and knocking people over. What happens if I slip up all the way?"

"We won't let that happen." Black promised fiercely. There was a knock on the door, and the others began cautiously filling the room once more. "Come on pup, there's a servant staircase through the back of the pantry, I can take you to Ron and Hermione, or Fred and George." If either of them realized the affectionate term had slipped out, neither acknowledged it. Harry hesitated, but guardedly followed his godfather at a distance. As he passed by Moody, the older man stopped him with a gnarled hand on his shoulder.

"We can help you find a way to make sure you don't slip up again, but no guarantee comes without a price," he warned. Harry met his gaze with solemn eyes, shining with a weight far beyond his years.

"I will do whatever it takes to keep everyone safe." He whispered, then slipped into the pantry where Sirius patiently waited.

"That's what worries me, Potter." Moody grumbled after him, turning to where his magical eye showed him the headmaster stood watching.

XxXxXxXxX

Neither Harry nor Sirius had spoken as they followed a series of narrow, dusty hallways and spiraling staircases through the heart of Grimmauld Place. Sirius had briefly explained that they were at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, and the house he had been raised in, as he placed his palms on the back wall of the pantry and waited as the shelves slowly separated to reveal a dim opening.

"Do secret passages usually just appear out of nowhere around here?" Harry had questioned, only half joking.

"They do to the head of the Black family line," Sirius answered, before turning to him with an unreadable look. "And to its heir."

Now the silence stretched between them, and Harry chewed his lip nervously as his desire to cling to the comfort Sirius was offering warred against the distrust that had built each day he sat at the Dursleys' without a word from his godfather. He was just pushing himself to say something as they stepped out into the light of a hallway when Sirius yanked him hurriedly away from the secret opening and cleared his throat pointedly. Harry straightened and looked ahead just as Mrs. Weasley turned the corner.

"Harry dear, there you are." Harry didn't miss the cold glint that flashed in her eyes as her gaze passed over the scruffy man next to him, and he felt his loyalty to Sirius strengthen just a little. "Come on now, I brought a nice tray of sandwiches up to the girls' room, we'll get you all tucked in while the Order has their meeting. You're always so thin, poor dear."

Harry grimaced as she turned and bustled away, but followed her nonetheless. He wasn't at all sure that he could keep his emotions in check around the others just yet, not when his friends had abandoned him.

He almost asked to stay and talk with Sirius instead, but when he turned back partway down the hall, the older man was gone. He tried to ignore the knot of disappointment in his stomach and followed Mrs. Weasley through a series of hallways and up a flight of stairs to a small corner bedroom. Molly smiled encouragingly as he walked past her and knocked hesitantly. Almost immediately the door swung open to reveal a blushing redhead, smiling bashfully as she welcomed him.

"Hi Harry," Ginny greeted, stepping back to let him pass. He distantly heard the door shutting again behind him, and high-pitched murmur of excitement as Ginny prattled on about one thing or another, but his attention was focused on the other end of the room, where his best friends sat on either side of a small mountain of parchment. Hermione was wringing her hands nervously in her lap, and Ron was slumped in half, his elbows on his knees and his face half-buried in his hands. Ginny finally trailed off into silence, picking up on the strained hush that hung between the three friends. After this continued awkwardly for several minutes, Harry turned to ask Ginny to give them a few minutes. Before he had the chance, however, Hermione had leapt to her feet and began speaking so rapidly she nearly stumbled over her own words.

"No Harry wait, don't go! Ron and I, we messed up. We know that, and we're so so sorry. Dumbledore forbade us from writing to you and we know that's not an excuse but we really were trying to do the right thing, Dumbledore always has his reasons even when we don't understand them and we just thought-" she cut off, whether to breathe or because she had run out of words, Harry couldn't be sure, but Ron took the opportunity to speak up for the first time.

"I didn't mean to let you down again, mate. Honest. You still mad?" Harry looked from one anxious face to another, and reminded himself that these were his friends; these were the people that had followed him into one dangerous situation after another and had stuck around anyway. He didn't answer, but moved to sit on the bed next to Ron, allowing Hermione to squeeze his hand gently as he passed and bumping shoulders good-naturedly with the other boy as he sat.

"So what's all this then?" He asked, nodding towards the piles of parchment and effectively ending the previous conversation. It wasn't forgiveness, but it was an olive branch.

"Research," Ron told him with an eye roll towards Hermione, although Harry thought he noticed something a little softer about the look than he remembered.

"I've been going through my notes," the bushy-haired witch cut in, either not noticing the look or choosing to ignore it. "I found everything I could on wild magic, wizarding coming-of-age, and power stabilization. It's not much," she added, almost apologetically, "I really hadn't thought I would have to figure any of this out until after fifth year." Now she bit her lip and looked nervously back at Harry. "I thought we could try to find a way to help you manage all the wild magic," she explained cautiously.

"That would be great, Hermione. Thanks," he assured her, forcing a small smile onto his fact to help set her at ease. Her eyes lit up in return and she looked as though she were about to say something else, but just then there was a knock on the door and Sirius pushed his way into the room, Hedwig perched regally on one arm and a series of butterbeer bottles balanced precariously on a tray in his other. With a happy cry, the owl fluttered over to land on Harry's lap, clicking her beak affectionately as Harry laid his cheek against her soft feathers and just held her close for a few moments.

"She won't be up to any long trips for a while, but she should recover fully in time. I brought you all something to drink… please eat, Harry, you look like you need it nearly as much as your owl does." He looked like her wanted to say more, but instead turned with a soft sigh and reached for the door once more. Just before he left he looked over his shoulder and told them, "If anyone were interested, my brother's personal library is still down at the other end of the hallway, the double doors on the right. I have a feeling Order members will be occupying the main library down on the first floor for the rest of the night." With that he left. Seeing the remark for the clandestine aid it was meant to be, Harry felt the first twinges of guilt for giving his godfather the cold shoulder.

Before he could dwell on it too long, however, the door swung open yet again and the twins walked in, both quickly scanning the room until their eyes locked on Harry. Without realizing it, he had jumped to his feet upon their entrance and now watched them uncertainly, hands fisted at his side nervously while his hair and clothes fluttered just slightly with a tiny spurt of nervous magic. Wide smiles suddenly appeared on both twins' faces as wands were pulled from inside cloaks.

"Free, free at last," George assured him, before his words were cut short by the small boy leaping at him for a hug. Harry managed to loop Fred into it as well, and while it only lasted a moment, the happiness that shone clearly in his eyes remained after he pulled away from the twins.

"That's magnificent. Listen, we could use your help with something…" As Harry led the Fred and George over to the others, explaining Hermione's project as he went, he missed the hurt looks that flashed across his best friends' faces.