bronzedragon8
Chapter 8

They stared at him, dumbstruck.

"Before you give me your answer, let me tell you some information about the Order. It's a league against Voldemort, basically, the opposite of Voldemort's Death Eaters. We try to stay one step ahead of his terror and stop him from gaining power. It goes back since his first days in power," Sirius said, face grim.

"And we can join?" Hermione asked, breathless.

"Well, you have to be put in an ancient incantation to make sure your heart is pure. But yes, if you accept the offer and go through the process flawless, you can join."

Ron, his face tense with thought, interrupted, "What's the incantation?"

Sirius shook his head, causing some ashes from the flames to flicker out. "I can't tell you. That's part of the process--you can't know what's coming, so you can't prepare. That way, we can be absolutly sure you didn't put a spell on yourself to--er--help you along the way."

"This is such an honor..." Hermione gushed.

Harry nodded. He knew exactly what to answer. "I'll join," he said with hesitation.

Sirius turned his head to face him. "You're sure? You know what is at risk?"

"I know, Sirius. And I want to help anyway I can," he replied.

"I'm joining. For Sabrina," Hermione said softly, bowing her head slightly.

Ron put a hand on her shoulder. "So am I," he said.

Sirius seemed disappointed in their answer. "You know your lives will constantly be in danger," he said, a note of plea in his voice.

"What else is new?" Harry asked.

"This is ridiculous!" Sirius exclaimed. "You're all just fifteen! You're too young to be in this! I wouldn't have let you join, or even have the chance! Dumbledore is mad for letting you try! You're all--well, you're all just fifteen!"

Harry felt a surge of anger flare up inside him, and he struggled to control it as he replied, "Sirius, I'm fifteen. I survived Avada Kedavra when I was one, spent ten years being a punching bag, discovered I was a wizard and entered a whole new world, survived the spirit of the Dark Lord through a professor, survived an encounter with a sixteen-year-old memory of Tom Riddle, realized my best friend's rat was really the man who betrayed my parents and discovered I had a Godfather, and then managed to escape a Voldemort who just got his body back. Don't tell me 'I'm only fifteen'."

Sirius was rendered speechless for a moment, then regained his composure and said seriously, "More the reason for you not to join! You're his number one target!"

"Who else has a connection to him like this?" Harry gestured to his scar. "I can save lives," he said slowly, making sure they heard every word. "And I'm going to help however I can."

"You shouldn't be saving lives! People should try and save yours!" Sirius yelled, clearly frustrated beyond belief, concerned about his Godson's safety.

Harry yelled, "I'm not going to have everyone die for me! My parents and Cedric already did it, and it won't happen again!"

Silence echoed after his outburst, and even he was suprised at what he had to say. Then without another word, he turned around and ran up to his dormitory, where he didn't speak to anyone the rest of the night.

***

Weeks passed uneventfully. Voldemort seemed to be taking a "break", which made Harry even more anxious for news. Furthermore, his conversation with Sirius made Ron and Hermione extremly--nervous--around him, and it was only mentioned when Hermione asked them when they thought they'd have to perform the initiation. Harry snapped that he didn't know, and the conversation was never brought up again.

Soon, though, Harry felt guilty for the way he'd treated his Godfather. I shouldn't have been so hard on him, he was just worried about me, he thought. To make up for it, he wrote Sirius a lengthy apology, which took up a foot of parchment. When he was done, he knew he'd overdone it, but he didn't care. Sirius was the closet thing he'd ever had to a father and he didn't want to hurt him.

Not receiving an answer yet, Harry was starting to think that Sirius was so angry with him he didn't want anything to do with him, and he grew depressed. Ron and Hermione knew it, too, so when the first Hogsmeade weekend came up, they forced him to go.

"You need the fresh air," Hermione insisted.

"You also need to buy us Christmas presents," Ron grinned.

Harry finally gave in and allowed himself to go. He tried to ignore the stares of the teachers, watching him closely, and he even caught himself enjoying the day away from the castle. They entertained themselves by going into Three Broomsticks and having a butterbeer to warm themselves up (the beginning of December was very cold). When they emerged, Harry said he needed new robes (his now stopped at the ankle), so they went into Gladrags Wizardwear.

"You're still short," Ron teased, who still out-grew him.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I prefer vertically challenged," he retorted. Ron snorted.

"Okay, okay," he said, still chuckling. "But I'm gonna go buy some--er--stuff. I'll meet you in front of that jewelry store in about thirty minutes." They agreed, and Ron left.

Once Harry had gotten his robes, him and Hermione looked at jewelry for awhile, chatting idly. Forty Five minutes later, Ron met them in front of the store.

Hermione pointed out, "You're late."

Ron gestured to his packages. "Long lines." He paused for a moment. "Let's go to Zonko's," he suggested. Hermione started to protest, but Harry pointed out to her that the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes were worse than any Zonko's product, and she reluctantly said okay.

As soon as they entered the store, they found it more deserted than usual. Harry briefly wondered if Fred and George's wish came true, that everyone liked the WWW better than Zonko's now. However, he saw Fred and George inside, talking to what looked like the manager. Harry nudged Ron and pointed to them, which made Ron whisper, "Probably trying to sell."

"Would you three hurry up so we can get this over with?" Hermione asked in a disapproving voice. "I need to get some books."

"I'm supposed to be suprised?" Harry asked. Hermione glared at him and opened her mouth to speak, but she was interrupted by Fred and George.

"Thank you, sir," They said happily, and starting heading towards the door. They stopped when they saw the trio. "Guess what?" They asked, then answered without waiting for them to reply. "The manager said he'd think about letting us put together a package of products and selling them here."

Ron congratulated them and said, "But I thought you wanted to open up your own business."

Fred waved his hand. "We have to start somewhere."

George continued, "Why not with Zonko's?"

"That way, people come and buy our stuff, then when the store opens they'll see a whole new line of products from us."

"So we'll earn more profit."

Ron stared at them. "Do you realize that's probably the first serious conversation you two have ever had?"

Fred and George glanced at each other and shuddered. "Scary."

***

Hermione sat, quill poised in mid-air, clean parchment beneath her. Her face was set in a grim line of determination. Ron looked apprehensive, and he fingered his wand nervously. Harry stared at the table, thinking so hard he had a migraine.

They were doing Potions homework.

Snape's instructions were to write another essay on the Nuquilla Poison, which was a potion that had the effects of Stunning spell, only worse. The Nuquilla Poison made all of your bones and muscles freeze and tighten so you couldn't move at all, however, your heart, brain, and other organs all continued to work, and you knew what was happening around you.

"The Nuquilla Poison has been illegal to use since the year 1870 when a wizard by the name of Francis Montregal used it on his wife, Amelia Montregal, after a bitter divorce. Francis used several Unforgivable curses on Amelia while she was immobile and severely damaged her mind. He was arrested later and Amelia died shortly afterward." Hermione read from her book. "Woah."

"Just like--" Harry stopped himself. He had been about to say, "Just like Neville's parents," but remembered his promise to Dumbledore before he said anything. "Er--how many inches was this supposed to be again?" he asked quickly to change to subject.

Hermione frowned. "10 inches," she said suspiciously. "Well, I'm going to go to bed. I finished my essay," she said while gathering up her materials. She bid them both a goodnight and went up the staircase to her dormitory, leaving them alone in the common room.

Ron did some creative swearing and balled his half finished essay into a ball. "I'll copy off Hermione tomorrow," he promised. Harry laughed.

"I only have a little bit go, and Snape'll give me low marks however perfect it is, so copying off her won't do me any good," he said darkly.

"Harry?" Ron asked suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Let's go outside and practice some Quidditch moves," Ron said eagerly.

Harry regarded him curiously. "Ron, it's ten o'clock at night. Don't you think it's a little late to be practicing Quidditch? Besides, I'm not supposed to go out on the grounds after dark."

Ron ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, that's right. Sorry. I'm going to bed now, this essay has me frazzled. See you," he called over his shoulder as he ran up the boy's staircase. Harry watched his retreating back. What on earth had Ron acting so strange? Why on earth did he want to practice Quidditch now?

Harry looked back down on his essay, picked up his quill, and sighed. Then he started writing. "The Nuquilla Poison is made by mixing the ingredients dragon claws, fairy dust, finely crushed beetle eyes..."