Chapter Ninety-Three - Things Said and Left Unsaid
Harry didn't think that he should lead the Order. That would be far too much to expect of a fifteen-year-old. But no matter how much he tried to put Draco's comments from his mind, he couldn't keep his resentment from growing. He had been the one to see Lord Voldemort return. He had been the one to fight him, time and time again. He was the Boy Who Lived. Why shouldn't he be inducted into the Order of the Phoenix?
His thoughts were once again running on these themes as he walked into the kitchen, about a week after Draco and Mrs. Malfoy first arrived. The Order had just concluded another of their meetings, and a few rolls of parchment were still spread across the table.
"Arthur! I told you to have those things cleared away before dinner!" Mrs. Weasley reprimanded her husband sharply.
Harry caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a diagram of a building when a young man cleared away the cross with a wave of his wand. He had long red hair tied back in a ponytail and a single pierced ear. A chain led down from the pierced lobe to what seemed to be a long fang. The man smiled at Harry as he offered his hand.
"Bill Weasley," he said by way of introduction, "I'm Ron's older brother. I understand you go to school together?"
Harry accepted the handshake, pleased that Bill greeted him as simply another of Ron's schoolmates, and not as the famous Harry Potter. Meanwhile, Mr. Weasley had finished apologizing to his wife, and had turned to greet Blaise as if they were old friends.
Mr. Weasley and Blaise had discovered early in their acquaintance that they shared a common interest in Muggle inventions. But while Mr. Weasley's fascination veered more toward spark plugs and rubber ducks, Blaise gravitated to Muggle technology. He entertained Mr. Weasley with his description of computers and mobile phones, while Mr. Weasley proudly explained the modifications he had made to his own Ford Anglia. The two were practically inseparable.
While Blaise and Mr. Weasley settled at one end of the dining table, falling into conversation about automobiles, the Weasley twins arrived. They were already engaged in a lively chat with Mundungus Fletcher, newly returned from another successful sale at Borgin and Burke. Mundungus planned to stay for dinner at Sirius's suggestion, though Mrs. Weasley turned up her nose in dissatisfaction. She didn't approve of Mundungus, nor her children's fraternization with him, but she held her tongue on this occasion.
"Shall I help with dinner, Molly?" Mrs. Zabini suggested, "Though I must warn you, I am not particularly gifted with domestic spells."
"Never mind that, dear," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile, "Any help is appreciated. I'll teach you a few tricks I've used to get by. You never know when it might be needed…"
Harry chose a seat next to his godfather, idly observing the two mothers as they set to work. Over the murmur of general chatter, he caught snatches of their conversation.
"... not joining us for dinner again?" Mrs. Weasley had asked.
Mrs. Zabini shook her head in reply, "No, she hasn't been feeling well. I'm sure it's stress…"
Harry knew they must be discussing Mrs. Malfoy, but they kept their voices low. No doubt Mrs. Zabini was trying to avoid Draco's notice, little realizing that he was already properly occupied. He had taken a place at the table next to Ron and the twins, and was listening to Mundungus's account of a particularly lucrative business deal with unashamed interest.
Remus and Tonks were the last to arrive together. Harry assumed they had been discussing some business related to the Order, but upon seeing Harry nearby, Remus abruptly ended the conversation.
"Alright, we'll be on guard tomorrow night," he said shortly, "Let's discuss the details later."
Tonk's gaze darted in Harry's direction. "Sure. After dinner alright with you? We could head to that Muggle pub 'round the corner if it's too… busy here."
"It's no trouble," Remus assured her, "We'll meet in the parlor later… After the kids have gone upstairs."
Tonks seemed a little disappointed that Remus had declined her invitation, though she cheerfully agreed to his suggestion before moving on to chat with Bill. Sirius, sitting quietly by Harry's side all the while, watched her with interest as Remus joined them at the table.
"I think my little cousin has a crush on you, Moony," he said with a wry smile.
"Don't tease her," Remus warned.
Harry noticed that he didn't bother to deny the accusation. He found himself glancing across the room toward Tonks. She was another favorite of the cleaning crew. An Auror, like Kingsley, Tonks was also a metamorphmagus. She could change her appearance at will and often used her ability to entertain the young people with impressions.
"I'm not teasing," Sirius was saying, though his smirk belied his words, "You don't think she's cute?"
"I am thirteen years older than she is," Remus replied flatly, as if this precluded any further consideration of the topic.
"Is everyone your cousin?" Harry asked suddenly. He intended to sound light and playful, but there was a note of irritation in his voice that his godfather detected immediately.
"There are only a few pureblood families in Great Britain," he explained in a conciliatory tone.
At the mention of purebloods, Harry inadvertently caught Draco's eye. Although he turned his face away immediately, pretending to be absorbed in another of Mundungus's stories, Harry knew he was listening to what Sirius had to say.
He continued, "The Black family is one of the oldest. I'm the last one living, of course, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm related to almost all of the British purebloods by either blood or marriage. Sometimes both."
"Explains why so many of you are mad," Mundungus called across the table, likewise attracted by their conversation, "Incest will do that, you know."
"Suppose you'd know more about that than me," Sirius retorted with a rueful smile.
"Not Me!" argued Mundungus, "Half-blood, I am! And a long history of mongrels on either side of my family tree! That's where I get me good looks from."
He winked at Mrs. Zabini, who had glanced over her shoulder in response to their lively chatter. Grinning, he showed a wide array of yellow teeth. Mrs. Zabini merely rolled her eyes and turned back toward the stove, where she and Mrs. Weasley were orchestrating several knives that were chopping vegetables in midair.
"Anyway, Sirius," Mundungus continued, not in the least discouraged by Mrs. Zabini's cold shoulder, "About that locket of yours. I think I have a buyer who'd be interested in such a trinket. Could cut you in on a bit of the profit. How much would you take for it?"
Sirius shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and for a moment the open collar of his shirt shifted aside. Harry saw a flash of gold gleaming brightly against his skin for an instant. It was only then that Harry realized Sirius still wore Slytherin's locket around his neck.
"It's not mine to sell," Sirius replied, "The locket belongs to Harry."
"That's not what the elf said," Mundungus muttered to himself, though he let the subject drop, perhaps sensing that Sirius was in no mood to barter with him.
Harry waited until the others were sufficiently engrossed in their own conversations, then he took the first opportunity to turn to Sirius and whisper, "I don't mind you keeping it safe for me, but I wish you wouldn't wear it around the house."
Sirius looked back at him, his brows raised in surprise. "What do you mean? Is there something wrong with it?"
Harry didn't know what to say. It was true, he'd worn the locket himself before, and it had never bothered him then. But the brief glimpse he'd had of it hanging around Sirius's neck filled him with a strange sense of foreboding.
"Millie doesn't think we should trust it," Harry said. It was true enough, though this was no excuse for his own trepidation. "She thinks it could be… well, cursed, I suppose."
Sirius glanced down at the locket, then lifted it from his chest, staring at the gold oval in the palm of his hand.
"I could use a project," he said after a few seconds of consideration, allowing the locket to fall against his chest once more, "I promised I'd find out where it came from, remember? But with everything going on last year… Anyway, I've got plenty of time now."
Harry opened his mouth to protest further, but Remus cut him off.
"Let it go, Harry," he whispered quietly. Harry guessed what he was thinking. Sirius needed something to do. Like Harry, he was frustrated that he couldn't be of more service to the Order. Perhaps this would increase his morale.
Harry was still dissatisfied, but he decided to heed Remus's advice for now. Dinner was ready to be served. He had to duck as the twins leapt up to set the table, only to be sharply reprimanded by their mother when they sent the dishware soaring across the room at dangerous speeds. Somehow, they managed to get the plates in their correct places, and the whole party could finally enjoy their meal.
"Sirius, I've been meaning to tell you, I think there's something trapped in the writing desk in one of the drawing rooms upstairs," Mrs. Weasley commented once their meal was underway.
"Probably a boggart," Sirius replied, "I found six of them in the attic when I first started clearing out the house. I'll have the cleaning crew check it out later."
He winked at Harry, but Harry was in no mood to smile back. Sirius, seeing that Harry was not going to play along, turned instead to Remus.
"You taught your students how to manage a boggart, didn't you?"
"Fred and George should be able to handle it," Remus said, "Since they're so eager to practice their magic now that they're of age, I'm sure they'll be delighted."
The twins seized on this suggestion, and begged permission to set about the project immediately. While Mrs. Weasley instructed them to eat their supper, Tonks entertained Ginny and Millie with her transformations. Between bits of food, she changed the shape of her nose, making funny faces at the girls all the while. Millie was particularly impressed with her skill, and promised to give a demonstration of her own transfiguration abilities after dinner.
"Can we learn to shapeshift, too?" Ginny asked hopefully.
Tonks shook her head, her beak-like nose shifting into a pig snout, "Metamorphmagi are born, not made."
Her glance, which was often drawn toward Remus's side of the table, abruptly fell on him again. She must have noticed that Remus was looking back at her, as the pig nose quickly vanished and reverted back to what Harry assumed was her natural features. Tonks looked away, blushing as Ginny demanded to know why she stopped.
Remus shook his head and continued eating his meal without comment.
Harry watched this small drama play out with considerable interest. He couldn't help but notice that Mrs. Zabini observed the interaction as well. Her expression was impassive, however. Harry wondered if what Blaise had suggested had been true, and if she was also keen on Remus. Stealing another glance at his former teacher, with his face a myriad of old scars and his thin, lanky frame clad in one of his favorite shabby cardigans, Harry couldn't help but wonder what made him so popular with women? He loved Remus like family, but he couldn't see the appeal.
While Harry reflected on what the secret of his allure might be, Remus had resumed a conversation he had been having with Mr. Weasley and Bill regarding goblins.
"They're not giving anything away," Bill was explaining to his father, "I still can't work out whether they believe he's back or not. 'Course, they might prefer not to take sides at all. Keep out of it, so to speak."
"I'm sure they'd never go over to You-Know-Who," replied Mr. Weasley, "They've suffered losses, too."
"I think it depends on what they're offered," Remus interjected, "And I'm not talking about gold. What if You-Know-Who promises them freedoms the Ministry has been denying them for centuries?"
"Like wands?" Harry interrupted suddenly. The three men turned to him with some surprise. They hadn't realized he was listening. Harry wasn't intimidated. The goblin riots were one of the few subjects he'd paid attention to in his History of Magic class.
"Goblins have fought for years for the right to own and use wands," he continued, as if reciting from a textbook, "But the Ministry keeps denying them. In fact, witches and wizards are the only magical beings currently allowed to use wands."
Remus nodded his head in acknowledgement of what Harry stated, adding, "That is true, but it's not the only privilege that's been denied them. Everything from territory to representation in our government has been requested at some time or another, and You-Know-Who will certainly use this to his advantage if he can."
"Then what are we doing about it?" Harry asked, "What are we going to offer them instead?"
Their conversation had garnered attention from all around the table. The adults exchanged meaningful glances with one another, and Mrs. Zabini suggested that this was not an appropriate direction for their conversation to take.
"Why not?" Harry said, challenging not just her but the other members of the Order, "All you've told me this summer is that I'm not allowed in meetings…"
"And you're not," Mrs. Zabini said sharply.
"But why?" Harry persisted, his voice rising, "I've got a right to know what's happening out there! I've been trapped in this house for over a month, and the only news I get is from the Prophet, and we all know that's under Fudge's control…"
"We've talked about this," Mrs. Zabini stated, "You're too young!"
"It's only natural that Harry has questions," said Sirius in a placating tone, "He was the one who saw Voldemort return, after all."
Harry was grateful to his godfather for finally defending him, though he couldn't help but feel this was too little, too late. Mrs. Zabini was not convinced, either.
"He's not a member of the Order! He's only fifteen!"
"And he's dealt with more than most of our members," Sirius said calmly, but with conviction, "He's not a child."
"Yes, he is!" Mrs. Zabini argued, her voice rising now, "For Morgana's sake, Sirius! He isn't James!"
"And he isn't your son!" Sirius retorted, his calm veneer cracking as he shouted back at Blaise's mother.
"He's as good as!" said Mrs. Zabini fiercely, "I'm as much his guardian as you are, Sirius!"
Sirius placed his hands on the table and started to rise from his chair. As he leaned forward, the locket around his neck fell forward, glinting beguilingly in the light. But then Remus placed a hand on his arm and firmly told him to sit down. Sirius always listened to Remus when he would heed no others, and he quietly resumed his seat at the table. The locket fell out of sight once again, though the dark expression on Sirius's face served as a reminder to Harry that it was still there.
To Mrs. Zabini, Remus said, "With respect, Edana, you're not the only one who cares about Harry. I agree with what Sirius is saying. It may be better for Harry to have the facts..." He paused with a gesture for patience when both Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Zabini opened their mouths to speak. "Not all of them, but enough to get the general picture. Anything must be better than a garbled version from… other sources."
Harry felt sure that Remus was referring to their efforts to overhear conversations through the Extendable Ears. Though Mrs. Weasley had tried to rid them of their stash days ago, he must have guessed that few of the prototypes survived.
Mrs. Zabini looked to Mrs. Weasley, as if anticipating an ally from that corner. But Mrs. Weasley merely shook her head and stated, "I perfectly understand your caution, Edana. I really do. But under the circumstances… Perhaps it would be better for Harry to hear it from us."
This sentiment did not apply to her own children, however, She immediately proposed to banish them from the room before any information was shared with Harry. Fred and George loudly protested that they were old enough to remain. They were of age, after all. They wanted to be inducted into the Order. But Mrs. Weasley would hear none of it.
"I can't stop Bill or Charlie from doing as they please, but so long as you live under my roof, you'll obey my rules!" she declared.
"But this isn't your roof!" Ginny protested as she and her brothers were ushered out of the room "It's Sirius's!"
"Any more talk like that, and you're not getting new robes this year!" Mrs. Weasley warned, grabbing Draco by the collar of his shirt and hauling him out the door as well. Harry saw him cast a fleeting look over his shoulder just before the door was closed in his face.
Mrs. Zabini was prepared to follow Mrs. Weasley's example when it came to her own son, but Blaise had anticipated her next move.
"If you throw us out, Harry's just going to tell us everything, anyway," he argued. By his side, Millie nodded her head vigorously. She looked at Harry, her eyes begging him to back them up.
"That's right," Harry agreed promptly, "There's no secrets between the three of us."
Mrs. Zabini threw up her hands in defeat, though she couldn't stop herself from saying to Mrs. Weasley, "You might as well call your kids back, Molly. It's only a matter of time before all of England knows!"
Remus tactfully ignored this outburst, and turned instead to Harry, saying with forced composure, "Alright Harry. What do you want to know?"
"Where's Voldemort?" Harry said instantly, ignoring the flinches of discomfort exhibited by certain members of the Order, "What has he been doing?"
"That's hard to say," Sirius replied, "He's been laying low. He wouldn't want to draw attention to himself right now."
"Why?" asked Harry.
"Because it would be dangerous. You weren't supposed to survive your last confrontation, Harry. No one but the Death Eaters were supposed to know of his return. But you lived… And you told the one person Voldemort has always feared the most."
"Dumbledore?" Harry asked. Sirius nodded his head.
Harry knew some of what followed without having to ask. After he told the headmaster what he witnessed in the graveyard, Dumbledore had been able to recall the Order of the Phoenix, a group of witches and wizards who had fought Voldemort at the height of his powers. Remus had helped to contact the surviving members of the old Order, while Mrs. Zabini found new members among her friends at the Ministry.
"The challenge we face now," Remus explained, "Is convincing others that You-Know-Who has really returned. But Fudge is still refusing to believe Dumbledore."
"Why?" Harry asked again, "What would Dumbledore gain by lying about something like that?"
"He thinks Dumbledore is plotting to overthrow him," Sirius said with a sarcastic laugh, "As if Dumbledore wants his job. They offered it to him once. He had a lot of popular support. Could have won the election by a landslide. But Dumbledore refused. Now Fudge thinks he's changed his mind, and that this story about Voldemort is little more than a power grab."
"I'll talk," Harry offered, "People don't believe Dumbledore because there's no proof. But if I tell everyone what I saw… If I give interviews…"
Sirius smiled at Harry and said, "That is exactly what Dumbledore doesn't want. He's already tried informing others of the facts, and he's being lambasted for it. None of us want that to happen to you, Harry. You're our best symbol for rallying support against Voldemort. It's best that you remain silent for now."
Harry balled his fists in frustration, but a part of him knew that Sirius was right. Coming forward with his story might feed the hungry media for a time, but there were few who would take him at his word without hard evidence of Voldemort's return.
"Meanwhile," Remus continued after a beat, "You-Know-Who is trying to gather followers, as well. But unlike us, he'll use whatever means necessary. Tricks, jinxes, blackmail… Anything to maintain secrecy until the time is right."
Harry said nothing for a moment. Voldemort's plan made perfect sense to him. After all, it was exactly what a Slytherin would do. Bide their time, wait for the right opportunity, then strike, as quick and unexpected as a hidden viper.
"But he can't just be gathering followers," Harry said, confident that his suspicion was correct, "Voldemort will have more than one scheme going on. What else is he doing?"
Sirius exchanged a look with Remus before he answered in a slow, cautious tone, "We think… We suspect he's after something… Something he didn't have before…"
"Like my blood?" Harry asked, recalling the words Voldemort had used in the graveyard, "Because he got that already."
"No…" Sirius said in the same measured tones, as if he was choosing his words carefully, "Not your blood, Harry… More like… information. Something that will prepare him for…"
"That is enough," Mrs. Zabini interrupted. Her voice was no longer raised, but was cold and level. Somehow, this made her seem more dangerous. "You've given him plenty of information. Any more, and you might as well induct him into the Order."
"Why not?" asked Harry, turning to Mrs. Zabini, "I want to join. I can fight…"
"No."
It was not Mrs. Zabini who spoke this time, but Remus. He directed a significant glance at Sirius and added, "Edana is right. We've said enough for one night. The Order is composed only of wizards who are of age. You know what Dumbledore said."
Harry was about to ask what Dumbledore had to say concerning him, but Sirius shrugged his shoulders. He did not offer any opposition as Mrs. Zabini ushered Harry, Blaise, and Millie out the door.