Author's Notes: Ooh, I managed another chapter! Wow, I didn't think I'd manage even one...Okay, just for the record, since I'm not answering reviews individually, for those of you who didn't read 'Chained' and so don't know my standard reply to questions asked in reviews, here it is (plus variations):

You'll find out...eventually. Maybe. I promise. You'll have to wait and see! You'll get to find out next chapter. I think.

Okay?

Disclaimer: See part one.

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Once the Order of the Phoenix had settled into the room on various chairs or beds, Harry allowed himself to look around at them all. Despite what Dumbledore had said about 'only those who were here', only a few members were missing from the Order as they were now.

Rachel gave him an amused glance, and it was clear what she was thinking - Harry was thinking it himself, but he wouldn't let himself really admit it.

Admit that there was no way in hell any of this lot - with the notable exception of Dumbledore - was ever going to believe anything about the Necromancers except that they were evil and heralded death.

*Well, they sort of have a point,* Harry mused. *We do herald death sometimes.* He risked a glance at Draco, but Draco was gazing disinterestedly at the floor.

"Well, Harry," Dumbledore started, "perhaps you could start by explaining what exactly a Necromancer is, since I think we are all working under bad information."

Harry shrugged. "Well, it would be easier to start with what we do, if that's alright." Dumbledore gave an encouraging nod. "Alright. Erm." He looked inquiringly at Rachel, who shook her head. "Right. Well, Necromancers..." He sighed. "Actually, I suppose there really isn't any easy way to explain us."

"We talk to the spirits," Nathalie piped up. "And the Others, and the Creators, and we can go into the land of the spirits, only Papa doesn't like me going in there, he says I'm too...young..." She trailed off and risked a glance at Harry's outraged face. "Uh, oops?" she offered.

"Let me guess," Harry said tautly. "Salazar?" Nathalie nodded meekly. *I'm going to kill him!* Harry raged silently. *Only of course, he's already dead.* "Nathalie, if you see him again, come and find me *immediately*, do you understand?"

"Yes, Papa," Nathalie murmured obediently, and only Harry didn't see her crossed fingers behind her back. One of the Order guffawed, and Harry glanced up at one of his father's best friends with a strange expression that was quickly shaken away.

"Nathalie's right," he said after a moment. "That's pretty much all we do. We speak to spirits - and that's not just ghosts - and we travel into the land of the spirits."

Rachel shifted slightly in her seat, and Harry shot her a warning glance.

"And you also raise the dead," Snape snapped at them. "You can't deny it - your very name proclaims it to the world." Harry's eyes flashed, and Nathalie glowered at Snape. Several people suddenly found it very hard to not laugh.

"I resent that accusation!" It wasn't Harry who had said that, it was Rachel. She had risen from her seat on Harry's bed, and now stood tall, her cloak swaying around her menacingly. All eyes were riveted to her. "The word necromancy does, I admit, have connotations of raising the dead in it, but you should never, ever assume something about a person just because they are called something because of their abilities - I swear, Severus Snape, you would be prejudiced against yourself if that wouldn't be too incredible, even for you!"

There was a stunned silence. Then:

"How in earth did you know that about Severus?" inquired a delighted Remus Lupin. "You've described him perfectly." Snape tried to glare at both Rachel and Remus; it didn't work.

"I happen to be very good friends with his mother," Rachel replied, cooling a little. Snape flinched. "She says hello, by the way."

"So you're a Necromancer as well?" inquired Hermione interestedly. "What's it like?" Rachel gave Harry a bemused glance; he shrugged nonchalantly.

"It's hard," he replied for Rachel. "Nathalie and I have been running from Ministries, and you lot, for nine years. The other Necromancers - there are about ten of us - have it easier. They haven't been discovered. I only was because I'm..."

"Because you're Harry Potter," Dumbledore completed quietly. "Harry, *do* you raise the dead?"

"Yes, sometimes," Harry said evenly, looking the old wizard in the eyes. Several members of the Order muttered to each other. "I've only ever done it once." He looked down. "It was...very difficult."

"Not to mention time-consuming," Rachel murmured. Harry bit down a laugh. *Understatement,* he grinned inwardly. *I was unconscious with the effort for three days.* Afterwards Rachel had almost killed him for attempting it by himself. But he'd felt it was worth it, for *that* person.

"Why did you? Who was it?" Bill Weasley wanted to know, leaning forward a little. Harry looked at him with an inward flinch. Bill didn't look as condemning as his youngest brother had when they'd been face to face less than a day ago, but he didn't look welcoming or interested as Dumbledore, Hermione and Remus did.

"That's not important," he replied quickly. "The person is now alive and well, and living somewhere in Africa - I'm not sure exactly where, I haven't heard from him in a while. Not that it's important."

Now, finally, Draco looked up at him, a queer look in his eyes. "How was Sirius when you heard from him?" he asked, a little harshly.

Remus frowned. "Draco, Sirius is dead," he reminded the younger wizard. Rachel gave a snort, and Remus turned his head ever so slowly to look at Harry, who gazed evenly back. "Merlin."

"No, Sirius," Harry corrected. "Merlin would never agree to being brought back, even if any of us thought that it would be a good idea."

"Harry, you're shocking them," Rachel advised him. "Slow down."

Harry closed his eyes briefly. *Why did it have to be Rachel?* he groaned inwardly. *Why couldn't it have been Toby, or Mika, or Jessica?*

"Papa, is he the man we saw in Paris?" Nathalie asked suddenly, sitting up and pointing at Remus.

"Yes, cherie," Harry replied absently. "Don't point, it's rude." He looked over at Remus. "I'm sorry about that, but I couldn't take any chances." Remus nodded silently, and Harry looked over the Order again. "If you all don't mind, Nathalie and I must be leaving," he announced suddenly. "There's a lot I need to do - and I need to talk to you," he added in a low voice to Rachel, who nodded.

"Harry, you still haven't explained to us what exactly a Necromancer is," Dumbledore reminded him. "If we are to have any hope of persuading the Ministry not to chase you, we must know everything."

Caught off guard, Harry's eyes flew to Draco's, meeting them for a moment, before returning to Dumbledore. "You'd do that?" he asked carefully. "You'd...try to change their minds about us?"

"About time someone did," Rachel muttered. "Do any of you have a clue how long Necromancers have been hiding from wizards - and with our job, too!"

"What is your job?" Snape demanded. Rachel and Harry gave each other a long, meaningful look, and Nathalie chewed on the end of her plait worriedly.

"We keep the balance between Chaos and Order," Harry said finally. *Only it's more than that,* he realised suddenly.

"We keep in place the boundaries between the living and the dead," Rachel continued.

*It's more than that too,* he mused.

"We *are* the balance between Chaos and Order," Harry realised thoughtfully. "Since we are both."

"Only I'm more Chaos than Order - grandpapa said so," Nathalie announced. Harry grinned, and ruffled her hair, and she pouted at him.

"Grandpapa...James..." Remus looked white now, and only the Necromancers could see the spirit who suddenly came into being next to the werewolf. James sent a sad smile at his son, then brushed his insubstantial fingers over his friend's hand.

Harry made a decision, one that he would probably regret later. "Remus," he said aloud, "There's someone waiting to talk to you outside." Remus gave him a quizzical look, and Harry nodded at the door. James' eyes lit up, and he followed Remus out. The moment the door was closed behind them, Harry made James visible to ordinary eyes.

"You shouldn't have done that," Rachel told him disapprovingly. "Do you want the Ministry swooping down on us like a pack of hounds?"

"They won't be able to tell from that," Harry dismissed. "You worry too much, Rachel." He pushed back the bed covers and stood up carefully, finding that he was dressed in the same old hospital pyjamas that he had always worn in here as a student.

"And you worry too little for someone who's been on the run for nine years!" she flared.

Harry froze. The entire room was thick with the tension between them. Harry and Rachel were glaring at each other, and slowly the Order left them, afraid of what might happen if they made the smallest sound. Even Dumbledore left, to talk to the Order and make sure everyone was clear that Harry was not evil, and never had been.

Except Draco, who finally moved. He stood up, and stepped towards the two Necromancers. He was stopped by a small hand on his arm.

"Don't do that," Nathalie warned him, suddenly seeming very grown up. "It's not a good idea. Papa can explode things when people interrupt him when he's arguing with Zia Rachel."

"Zia...that's Italian," he realised, not really looking at her. She nodded.

"That was where I met her - Papa and me travel all over," she explained. "I can speak lots of languages - Papa says that it's useful and that it's a good sperience, but I'd rather be always in one place and be able to come to Hogwarts."

He did look at her then, he really looked, and what he saw made him blink. He reached out and touched her cheek briefly, and then he looked at Harry.

"Fine," Harry snapped at Rachel. "Have it your way. I made a mistake. It's not like you haven't made enough of them - dragging me into this whole mess in the first place, for example!"

Rachel flinched as though she had been physically struck, turned smartly, and went to stand by the window, gazing out blindly. Nathalie glared at her father.

"Papa, you shouldn't *say* that," she said crossly. "You're always telling me not to be nasty, and you've just *been* nasty to Zia Rachel!" She stomped over to Rachel, and hugged her tightly. Harry closed his eyes for a moment, then faced Draco.

"Hello," he said blankly. Draco stared at him for all of two seconds before he punched him hard.

"You bastard," he spat. "You never even told me!"

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To be continued.