Chapter 12:
After a few minutes seated at the Headmaster's left around the mahogany conference table, Harry realized that perhaps he should not have been so eager to join the Order. The mood was solemn. Headmaster Dumbledore had begun the meeting with a tribute to the Order members who had fallen that afternoon, and to Professor Spout and the Hogwarts students as well. Harry had blinked rapidly to hold back tears, conscious of the eyes of the other members upon him.
But after the tribute, the Headmaster had quickly pivoted to requesting input on what the Order should do next and the meeting truly began. A debate had been continuing for several minutes now. Neither side was giving up any ground.
"Surely we need to ensure that our strongholds are protected. Diagon Alley and St. Mungo's must be our top priority. Think of the children!" argued one older witch with grey streaks in her hair. She had made this point several times already.
"You never win a war on defense, Bertha," came the quick rejoinder from Mad-Eye. "We need to go hunt some of these bastards down. And if they don't come quietly, all the better."
"I agree," Harry looked up in surprise at the sound of Bill Weasley's voice. "If we don't strike back, it will give their forces time to regroup and plan another attack on us."
"Strike back where, though?" The same witch was persistent in her argument. "We don't even know where the Death Eaters are hiding out. How could we possible launch any sort of retaliation?"
That's not strictly true, Harry mused. Despite himself, his eyes wandered to his dour Potions Professor, who was seated at the far end of the table. As though sensing the direction that Harry's thoughts had turned, Snape looked up and met his eyes with a fierce glare. Harry quickly broke eye contact, not looking for a fight this evening.
While Harry was distracted, Dumbledore had inserted himself into the discussion. "While we do have a list of known Death Eaters, we don't know who was involved in the Diagon Attack. And the man who we captured on the Express is a French National who was previously unknown to us. That makes a retaliatory strike more difficult. Nonetheless, I agree that a purely defensive strategy is less than ideal. Does anyone have any further thoughts?"
Before Harry could catch himself, he spoke aloud. "Did they know?"
"Did who know what, Mr. Potter?" Professor Dumbledore's tone was patient, but Harry sensed that the other adults in the room were not thrilled with his less than eloquent interruption.
"Did the Death Eaters know about the attack on the Express? I was just thinking that Malfoy was on the train. So were Crabbe, Goyle, and a lot of other children of Death Eaters. And now that you say that the man who I stunned on the Express is French, I was just wondering if Voldemort is working with someone new?"
With all the eyes of the room upon him, Harry wasn't sure if he had just said something very clever or very stupid.
Until– "Perceptive, Potter," grunted Mad-Eye. "We had known that a few Death Eaters were sent to make inroads on the continent, but we weren't certain how successful they had been."
Tonks broke in, her voice getting excited as the beginnings of a strategy formed. "Why attack at all then? Why not try to use that against Voldemort? I can't imagine Lucius Malfoy or any of the other parents are too pleased right now."
"And how would you propose to do that, Miss Tonks? These men know that if we catch them, they will be sentenced to an exceedingly long term in Azkaban. And even if that were not the case, none of them would willingly ally themselves with the Order."
Snape's sneer was firmly in place as he delivered this last statement, although Harry thought he detected a hint of apprehension beneath it. But before he could dwell on that, Professor Dumbledore broke in.
"Right now, there is no apparent avenue to reach those parents; however, it is certainly something to keep in mind. In the meantime, we should concentrate on planning our continued defense and intelligence gathering strategies."
The meeting continued for some time after that. Plans were made to guard St. Mungo's and Diagon Alley, and Harry let his mind wander- he wouldn't be involved in those plans because he would be studying for his OWLs.
"- Dalton and the Benson sisters." Harry snapped back into focus after hearing the names of the three younger students who were currently staying in the Gryffindor tower. He noticed that several of the Order members had begun to gather their cloaks and depart. Those remaining at the table were all Hogwarts Professors.
"Did you find their parents?"
"Professor McGonagall was just about to explain what she has learned, Mr. Potter." Although the words themselves were neutral, Snape's tone made it clear that he believed Harry's interruption was both unwarranted and idiotic.
Harry flushed but Professor McGonagall ignored the interruption. "The Bensons' mother was injured in the Diagon attack and is recovering at St. Mungo's. Their father is out of the country on business, but he has been reached and will return to pick up the girls tomorrow afternoon. Dalton's father was a shop clerk at Quincent's Quills in Diagon Alley and is confirmed dead. We have not been able to reach his mother."
"What happens now, Professor?" Despite Harry's best efforts, his voice shook.
"The children are almost certainly sleeping by now. I will inform them first thing in the morning."
The rest of the meeting had been a whirlwind, Harry decided as he wound his way towards the Gryffindor Tower. He had stayed while the Hogwarts staff discussed the students who had been exposed to the Dementors and the steps they would be taking to secure the castle for when the students returned in eight weeks. It had taken several hours, and his mind was churning with all the new information.
McGonagall had pulled him aside at the end. "Given the new demands on the staff's time, Mr. Potter, I'm afraid that your OWLs preparation will be much more independent study than originally planned. I will send you an updated study schedule in the morning. For tonight, please return to your dormitory."
Harry had simply nodded at the time, but now he wondered how he would be able to worry about a thing as frivolous as OWL testing. Unbidden, his mind wandered to earlier that day. He couldn't believe it had only been a few hours since the train attack- it seemed like a lifetime. He couldn't control the shudder that went through his body as he thought of the dead trolley witch. It had reminded him too much of Cedric and Sirius.
"I have to do better. I can't make any more mistakes," Harry whispered to himself determinedly. "No one else can die because of me."
As he entered the Common Room, he was grateful to see that the younger students had retired to their dormitories as he had instructed. He couldn't face them right now, knowing what McGonagall would be telling them in the morning. Once he reached his bead, he didn't even bother to change, he just fell into it. Despite his unsettled thoughts, his exhaustion ruled the night and sleep came quickly.
"Where's my dad?"
Harry rolled over, still deep in an exhausted slumber.
"I said, WHERE'S MY DAD?"
That woke Harry. Still disoriented, he glanced out his window and saw that the sun was just barely over the horizon. The morning was still and quiet and clear- a contrast to the fog that Harry was struggling to clear from his head. He couldn't have gone to bed more than four hours ago. Turning to search for the source of the interruption, he saw the second year Slytherin standing at the foot of his bed.
"Has Professor McGonagall been in yet this morning?" Harry was proud of himself for keeping his voice steady.
"No, she hasn't." In contrast to Harry, Robert was struggling to keep his composure. "Why won't they tell me anything? Where is my dad?"
Harry suppressed a surge of anger at the Professors. It wasn't just him- they apparently left lots of students uninformed. Luckily though, he was able to keep the anger off his face.
"Why don't we go find her and ask?"
Robert's face was set in anger, but Harry could see the tears that he tried to hide as he nodded.
Standing outside of McGonagall's locked chambers, Harry was hit with a sense of déjà vu. Not again. He thought to himself as he realized that the Professor was unavailable.
He looked at the boy he was with who appeared more upset every minute they were delayed. He ran through a list of professors who would be able to assist- Flitwick was out of the castle on an Order mission, McGonagall was unavailable, and Professor Sprout was- he viciously squashed that last thought before it could fully form. That left the one Professor who wouldn't react well to Harry knocking on his door. But, Harry considered, Robert is a Slytherin.
"It looks like Professor McGonagall isn't available. Professor Snape might be though. Let's try his office next." Robert nodded tightly.
Despite the journey to the dungeons being his own suggestion, a large piece of Harry was wishing Snape to be as unavailable as McGonagall. However, luck was not with him. Before he could even raise his hand to knock on Snape's office door, it swung open of its own accord.
"Potter," an angry voice spat from within. "Only you would be insolent enough to intrude so early in the morning. What in Merlin's name could you possibly want?"
Harry felt his temper rise, but he quickly fought to bring it under control. He couldn't lose control in front of a child who was about to find out that his father was dead.
"Robert is looking for news on his father, but Professor McGonagall is unavailable, Professor," Harry was proud of himself for keeping his tone so neutral.
Snape's response was silence. Harry hadn't expected that. He glanced down at Robert, who also looked confused. They stood awkwardly for almost a full minute before Snape appeared at the door. His eyes met Harry's and Harry braced himself- ready for more vitriol. But all Snape said was, "Very well, then. Come in."