Chapter 10: Wake to War

"No… not yet." I fell back heavily into my chair, hands shaking as I read and reread the headline, trying to read it in a way that didn't spell disaster. There was no denying it though, I knew this was coming- but so soon? I brought my shaking white hand to my forehead and steeled myself to read the rest of the article.

Return of the Dark Lord?

200 found dead under Dark Mark

A Dark Mark was found floating above St. Fonguil's Wizard Hospital early this morning. The attack on the hospital left 200 patients and staff dead, 300 injured and the building in ruins. The ministry has not yet released a report, but the presence of the Dark Mark has sparked rumors of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's return. This is the first such attack since he was declared beaten over a year ago. Since the alleged downfall of the Dark Lord, defense in the Wizarding World has been reduced to nothing. During the war, fourteen Aurors were stationed at the hospital; at the time of the attack, there were none.

I didn't need to read any more; I didn't need to know anymore. The enemy was back. I suddenly felt incredibly sick. I lowered my head to the tabletop and took deep breaths, willing myself to calm down; composure and rationality were what was needed now. I started to process the information I had.

Firstly, who is responsible? It was obviously Death Eaters, which means the war with Voldemort, or at least his memory, is not over. I sighed as I remembered the harshness of the last war, the joy and relief I had felt when it was finally over and finally the violent anguish I had felt this morning as that had all be torn away from me. I continued sadly, but still calmly, I was well trained. It must have required quite a few Death Eaters to be able to completely destroy the hospital, forty at very least. However, Death Eaters are not the sort to commit such a large attack unless they have a leader to hide behind, someone who will be able to protect them from the Ministry. The real question is… who is leading them? At first the public will probably assume Voldemort is back, it is possible since he has been revived several times, but there are others which must be considered: Lucius Malfoy for example, should be dead. I saw Harry kill him, but… there is question as to whether Harry really had enough power in him to end a human life, even if his power was enhanced by emotion, he was in a pretty bad state…and then there is the possibility that a completely new person has risen to the thrown of the dark. I rubbed at an on-coming headache as I got up and paced to the fireplace at the other end of the room. An issue that was considerably less important than the death of 200 people would not leave me alone. How do I tell him…he is not ready to hear it- but do I have a choice? Does he? I looked forlornly at the door behind which Harry slept- ignorant of how the world had changed; sleeping peacefully. Peace, how quickly it can wake to war.

I slid over to his heavy ash door and rapped on it calmly before opening it and calling impassively.

"Get up Harry, there is something we need to discuss… Also, only take three quarters of your usual dose of Sopori Juice." I saw some movement through the darkness on his bed, so I withdrew and closed the door behind me. I walked back over to the fireplace and lit it with a word and flick of a hand, before sitting down to wait for Harry.

I heard a door close behind him several minutes later, and motioned for him to sit in the armchair beside mine. I had not taken my eyes from the fire since I had sat down; the flames were hypnotizing and I did not fight the distraction.

"It has started…" I spoke calmly to the fire; not wanting to see whatever look might have been on Harry's face. Shock? Despair? Anger? I did not want to know. The only reply I got was a deep, shaking breath. "At least forty Death Eaters attacked St. Fonguil's this morning. Two hundred wizards are dead, the hospital is completely destroyed." Harry got up suddenly from his chair and paced over to the mantel, placing his arms and head on it, his back now to me. I continued calmly, he had to know everything. "The press does not know who organized it, but they once again suspect Voldemort. The ministry has yet to release a report, and I have not yet been to the site so that is all the information I have as of yet." There was a pause before his low voice came muffled from behind his arms.

"What happens now?"

"The Order of the Phoenix must be reassembled."

"But- how? Dumbledore's …" My fingers clamped around the leather armrests and dug into them, my angry words leaping through clamped teeth.

"Dead? Really, Harry, I had no idea!" I knew I should not have yelled at him. I knew it, and ignored it. I did not think his body would visibly quake in the force of my words. I did not think his reaction would cause me so much remorse. I exhaled slowly, calming myself. "There will be a new leader."

"… Heldem?" He asked cautiously. I couldn't stop myself from scoffing.

"As much as I would love to watch a tit mouse juggle a water melon and a nine-story building, no, the Headmaster has not been chosen." Harry's next question was barely audible, whispered through a curtain of fear, both of the answer and myself.

"…then who?" I took a deep breath.

"You." My eyes snapped up to him as he spun around, a look of terrorized shock on his pale face.

"No!" He cried, trying to refuse but sounding more like he was begging.

"Yes." I answered calmly.

"I can't- I won't!"

"You will… you must."

"Why?" His face was wrought with confusion, despair and anger.

I sighed and motioned once again to the chair beside me, "sit." He did so, but did not look at me when I turned to him.

"The way in which the leader of the Order, or Prepoten, is chosen has been in place as long as the Order itself. Indeed, the very essence of the magic power which enhances all the members only manifests itself if the leader follows the traditions set up so long ago. They are this, Harry: to insure that the Prepoten would always be powerful enough to channel the Order magic to each of its members, the founders decided to set up a system of inheritance. I am not talking about biological inheritance, but rather that of accomplishment. Who ever kills the leader of the opposition to the Order in the previous war, becomes the leader in the next. If the person who kills the leader of the opposition is the Prepoten at the time, then he remains leader the next time a group opposes the Order. If the person who defeats the opposition is not the leader of the Order, then during the next war, he will become the Prepoten. For example A-… Albus defeated Grindelwald in 1945, at this time, the Prepoten was Sir Frimpel. The reason Albus lived to be so old is because the Order magic sustains the life of the leader until a new leader is recognized, and since the span of peace between Grindelwald and Voldemort was unusually long, Albus lived for an unusually long amount of time. However, since Albus, and not Frimpel, defeated Grindelwald, Frimpel died at 52. You see the way Order magic works on a former leader, such as Frimpel, is a lot like diffusion: the magic runs from an area of high concentration to an area of low concentration. When Albus defeated Grindelwald, Frimpel was two months shy of 52. Since the Order magic had been depleted during the war, the reserve was fairly low, Frimpel on the other hand was still relatively young and had quite a bit of life and power left in him. The Order ended his life by sucking his life force from him. When you defeated Voldemort, Albus was already very old, many years beyond his natural life span. At the end of the war, Albus was exhausted so the Order magic sustained him until both entities were at equal power levels, then he died naturally of old age." There was a long pause in which I allowed Harry to absorb everything I had told him.

"So that's it then…" He finally said in an emotionless voice.

"What do you mean?"

"I thought- I thought my life might have other meaning than fighting and killing, saving lives and losing others… I was wrong wasn't I?" I couldn't bare to look at him. He was right of course; it was his destiny to be a war hero; war heroes have to fight. He sighed shortly at my unspoken reply.

"Right. I'll be in my room."

I did not see Harry again until the sun had set on that sad day. I had whiled the hours away working on reaching the ministry, or even getting to the place where the hospital once stood, but without success. The ministry had blocked off all contact with the outside world and anti-apparation barriers had been set up in a forty-kilometer radius of the hospital. I had even resorted to speaking with the other staff members in the dim hope that they might have some information, but of course, to no surprise, they were as well informed of the attack as a common muggle. So it was I found myself slowly walking through the door of my dim chambers, tired and worried.

Worried about Harry, how extraordinarily unusual. Humph, there was something this morning though, at the end of our conversation he was– changed… perfectly normal for anyone who had just been told at the ripe old age of nineteen that they had to lead a group of forty-odd full grown wizards into a war against an unknown enemy with a great amount of power when he was still trying to learn how to live again. I sighed and dropped myself into an armchair by the un-lit fire. Suddenly I remembered that I hadn't eaten since that morning, or rather, my body reminded me. I summoned a house elf with the wave of my wand and requested a supper for two. House elves had long since learned not to stay long or speak much in my presence and I was very much glad for it.

A few moments later the table behind me popped and was covered with food. I rolled my eyes at the obsequious display put forth by the house elves as I made my way to Harry's door. I knocked on it firmly and called through:

"Harry, supper is served."

"The spell, would you do it first?" Damn, I had forgotten, but his voice…no fear? No dread? Surely he must feel something upon requesting a bone-shattering spell to be cast on him? He can't be used to the pain- you can not get used to that kind of pain. I suppose it must be done though.

"Of course." I opened the door and entered. Harry was scratching away at a piece of parchment on a small writing desk in the corner of his room. humph, never thought he'd actually use it. One candle was lit on the desk, offering the only light in the room. "Harry, if you do not wish to ruin that parchment, I suggest you move… I don't have all day." He nodded and left the writing desk for his bed. He sat down and looked forward past me, but as I withdrew my wand I noticed him shiver. He closed his eyes and locked his jaw in place, waiting for the pain to start. I sighed and cast the spell, he collapsed on the bed as his screams rebounded off the walls in the small room. I'll never get used to this, never. There must be a way to ease the pain… I will discuss it with Poppy. I didn't move until the screams stopped and the gasping breaths eased. In the meantime, there must be something I can do.

"Harry…"

"I'll be out in a moment." His reply was rough and yet relayed no feelings or need for help.

"I… Right." I left the room, leaving the door open, and sat down at the table.

A few minutes later he walked by me, shakily but on the whole he looked somewhat recovered. He stopped momentarily beside me to drop a roll of parchment alongside my plate and headed back to his room. Interesting, I'll open that later.

"Harry," I caught his sleeve, "you seem to be under the impression that supper is an option." He offered no response, but waited several seconds before moving to his place at the other end of the short table. As the candle near his plate lighted his face, I sighed.

"You haven't slept or eaten since this morning, have you?" He looked paler than usual, with darkening circles under his eyes. "After supper you will go straight to bed, from now on you will miss no meals, and I think it wise you have a nap now and again, lest I send you back to Poppy." He glared at me as best he could with his eyelids falling lower and lower by the second. I shook my head slightly and started eating the hot soup before me.

The rest of the meal passed in a strained silence, but one that I had been growing more accustomed to in the past days. When Harry had put down his fork for the last time and gotten up he looked me straight in the eyes with all seriousness.

"Give me a reply in the morning." With that he walked to his room, shutting the door after him. I knew of course he was referring the letter he had given me, which I had so skillfully ignored until now. Having finished my supper, I looked at it contemplatively before bringing a candle closer and unrolling the smooth parchment.

Severus Snape,

As you are undoubtedly aware, Death Eaters have recently become active. The sheer scale of this recent attack on St. Fonguil's Wizarding Hospital must lead us to assume that this was not just a Death Eater riot, but a declaration of war. No one likes war and apart from the Death Eaters, no one wants war, but unfortunately the decision has been made for us by the 200 lives claimed at St. Fonguil's. It is the duty of the members of The Order of the Phoenix to protect the Wizarding World from Dark Magic and those whishing to do innocents harm. You have been selected by Fawkes, the phoenix that brought together the founding members of the Order, to join this age-old assembly. It is an honour that is not bestowed upon many and it is my wish that you would vow to protect with me the Wizarding World. Please send me your decision as soon as possible, but take time to think on it; this is a great opportunity, and an even greater challenge, are you up to it?

Prepoten Harry Potter

So he has accepted it; he has accepted the position... not that he had a choice. I sighed and retired to a chair beside the unlit fire. Do I? I remember only too well the greatness of the challenge, the pain, and the suffering the Order cause me last time, to go through all that again… I looked down at the parchement in my hands. What am I saying? I can not even compare what I went through to the hell Harry did. He managed to find it in himself to fight again; I must do the same.

(AN in the next chap)