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Heather Hidden
Chapter Eleven
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At two-thirty in the morning on the dot, the group of adults and students appeared just outside Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Severus and Heather were the only ones in the group dressed warmly, so the rest were consequently shivering, though Albus was doing his best to hide it.
"So what shall we do now?" Ron implored, curiosity getting the best of him.
"We wait a moment while I figure out where Thea and Tommy are." She stared into the castle, and shook her head, "Those two…"
"Can't we just meet them there?" Hermione's voice of reason added.
"Nope. Unfortunately, there's a bit of a dress code for the Order. We all wear the same robes, albeit different sizes, as a form of strength between us. And I don't know why, but I asked the twins to bring the robes tonight." She stared up at the sky, muttered under her breath, "Next time I get them."
"Oh, right…like you would be able to find them!" Thea walked toward them, a barely-perceptible limp elongating her stride.
"Shush up you!" She laughed at her friend as the white robes were thrown at her face, "You know I really don't want to have to clean them again so stop throwing them." She handed out the garments.
Tommy rolled his eyes, "Both of you quit it. We need to get out of here and to headquarters. Lord knows that if we leave the members waiting long enough, we'll have half looking for us and half hunting down…certain people."
"Touché."
The bickering started again, but the younger of the children were too busy looking at each other to hear them. The robes were silk. Harry had never had anything made of silk before or anything white beyond his button down school shirt. It was starting to warm him, centralized from one path – the embroidery of a phoenix mid-flight in the foreground of a diamond sun.
"Severus Mathias Snape!" Albus chastised, smiling, bringing the students attention back to the argument.
"Albus Johann Dumbledore!" Minerva jumped in.
The red-haired girl sighed as the two men shouted out the transfigurations teacher's full name, "Alright, now that we've all been informed that Mom's middle name is Sarai, can we go?" She didn't wait for any response, instead moving forward to the lake.
Harry caught up to her quickly and placed his hand in hers, "How are we going to get to…headquarters?" He took a moment to think of the word used earlier.
"Portkey."
He tensed momentarily, and she spoke again, "I made this portkey, love. Nothing is going to happen to you or Ron or Hermione. I promise."
The new teacher knew that it did little to alleviate his fear, but she hoped that he realized that she had kept all her promises so far.
At the edge of the lake, the two siblings stopped and waited temporarily for the rest of the group. When they were together at last, Heather bent over to retrieve a splintering oar from behind some reeds, "You guys know the drill."
Everyone reached forward and held on. The familiar pull under their navels, then a sudden feeling of ground once again.
"I hate portkeys. Next time, we floo." Thea moaned.
"Yeah, see…for that to work, we'd actually have to be, oh, connected to the network." Heather taunted, dusting herself off.
Minerva rolled her eyes at their behavior, before striding toward the edge of a forest.
"Where are we?"
"Sorry, love. Can't tell you yet." The redheaded girl began following her godmother, her brother's hand firmly tucked into her own.
Slowly, they made it up a small hill, weaving through trees and bushes, and finally ended up in the shadow of a huge castle. It practically loomed over them, a glow of gold coming off it. The huge stones were built high into the sky, but never seemed to rise above the trees.
"Wow." Fred was blown away.
"Two-hundred forty-nine." Thomas murmured, and at the questioning look from the others, spoke again to explain, "You are the two-hundred forty-ninth person to say wow upon seeing the Order."
The huge front doors, solid oak from the looks of it, slid open to reveal several other people dressed in the white robes.
"Where the bloody hell have you been?!" A short blonde, about Heather's age, demanded.
Heather stared at the person, "Jonay, go back inside." It was an order, and the girl had no choice but to comply.
"Jonay, wait up!" Thea suddenly called out a moment after the huffy teenager walked away, "I'll meet you at the High." She whispered to her best friend, before dashing to meet up with the other.
"Alright. When we go into the Main Hall, Harry and I will walk ahead of everybody else. Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore, as well as Thomas, will follow and we'll all end up in a group of chairs at the front of the room. You four, however, are going to sit with Mr. Weasley."
"Which one?" George couldn't stop the retort from falling past his lips.
"Your father." She didn't skip a beat, then once again took Harry's hand and continued into the building.
Entering into the castle, the students were surprised to find that it was much like the foyer of Hogwarts, down to the corridor to the Main Hall, as Heather had called it. They quickly came upon a set of silver doors reaching from floor to ceiling, where the new teacher pulled the hood of the robe up over her hair, almost obscuring her eyes, then turned to her brother to pull his up as well. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as the rest of her little group followed suit.
The doors opened, revealing the most simplistically magnificent room any had ever seen.
The walls were dull yet sparkling gold, with a high ceiling of wooden beams. Columns not only stood in neat lines at the sides of the room; they graced the wall directly ahead of them. Many long tables, like the ones in the Great Hall of the school were placed horizontally so the table's occupants automatically faced their leader.
And their leader sat in an ornate gold and silver throne-like chair with a high back that ended a good foot above Heather's head, or so Harry estimated. It seemed plush, fabrics of maroon-red and dark green softening the places where her body would come in contact.
Slowly, the Potter siblings pressed on walking down the aisle between the two groupings of tables. The younger of the two soon became frightfully aware that he was being watched, and he clung to his sister. I want to go.
I know, Love. But I just need to address them, so they can see that you are alright and I am fine. They worry too much some times, and they're insanely protective.
He understood the point she was trying to get across. However, he still held her hand painfully tight. The black-haired boy made a mental note when his friends parted and sat down beside the Oldest Mr. Weasley. He smiled slightly at the sight. It took his mind off the current, causing him to not be fully aware that everyone else had breathed a sigh of relief.
"Harry." Heather nodded toward the three steps that lead up the dais to the row of eleven chairs. There were five to either side of his sister's, wooden but still as ornate, with bronze inlays and Latin words carved into the backs.
Each of the adults moved from around the duo and sat, filling in the empty chairs until two were left, "Do I sit there?" He asked when he noticed the way Minerva patted the seat.
"Yes. Go sit and hold Mom's hand if you have to. If it'll be better, I could temporarily move Mom and Papa so you could sit next to him." She offered.
He shook his head, "I'll be alright." Hesitantly, the teenager moved to the vacant piece of furniture and watched as the Order leader went to her own.
The High Council was assembled, in order from Heather's left: Jonay, Professor Flitwick, McGonagall, Harry, Thea, their insufferable-at-times leader, Thomas, the headmaster, Snape, Percy Weasley, and a brunette none of the teenagers could identify.
"This meeting of the Order of the Phoenix will now come to order!"
"Fish and chips!" One of the members immediately rang out.
The girl's delicate pale hands rubbed her temples, "Funny, Mikhail. Real funny. Now I know we have not had a meeting in a while due to unforeseeable circumstances, but that doesn't mean we can goof off. I have some issues to discuss and I'd like to do them as quickly as possible so I can get my brother back to the school."
There was a low murmur of agreement mixed with discontent, which soon halted.
"The first matter is that of Harrison. As all of you can see, he's alive. He knows who I am and my parents are already stepping in."
Another mutter, this time of happiness.
"So that means that there will be no hunting down those people. There will be no kidnapping or maiming of the Dursleys, either." She warned, sitting up impossibly straighter in her chair, "I must have everyone's word on this."
"Heather, we love you, but you cannot let us sit idly by while…" A voice from the middle left of the room.
"While what? The damage is done."
"But…"
"Oh, for the love of…" A thought struck the redhead, Harry, do you want these numbskulls to go out and find the people who hurt you? I mean I actually don't have any qualms with it; I just don't want them to be anywhere near you…I don't want them to know what they have done.
The babbling soothed the aching nerves – she didn't know what to say either…it was refreshing, I…I want to forget about them, sis. He leaned forward and looked at her, An eye for an eye makes everyone blind.
She nodded, "Perhaps you'd like to consult Harrison on the issue." Her left eyebrow rose.
The members shook their heads.
"Alright then. Albus will be heading the rest of the meeting, but first, I'd like an update on Sirius's mission in America."
Arthur stood up, "He's gotten the majority of the information. If all goes well tonight, he will be on his way home tomorrow afternoon."
"Good. Please remind Mrs. Weasley to stress that should anything happen that compromises his position, he is to return. I do not wish him to risk his life over this."
The man nodded and smiled knowingly at her, "I will."
"Is there any business that I should be made aware of?" She normally asked at the end of the meeting…
I want to stay. I thought everyone was staring at me for a different reason than they are. I like this.
"Nevermind. It appears that I will be staying for a while yet, so…" She stood, and stretched, "I hate that chair." She spoke under her breath, when a sudden ripple in the room turned her attention. It was emotion…something she hadn't felt before, but she knew instinctively what it was. Her eyes sought out the source from the over one-hundred-fifty people who had managed to come to the Castle of Fire.
"Heather?" Fred stared up at her – her eyes were flaring with gold.
"There's a traitor in our wake." She lisped, loud enough for her minions to hear.
Several people stood and began looking about the room wildly, as if there would be a large neon sign blinking 'Traitor…Traitor' above the offender's head.
"Where?" Jonay was among those who stood, and she turned to her friend, "Do you have an idea who?"
"Yes." The word was soft spoken, "And it makes no sense." Slowly she descended the long dais, before strolling to a young man in the front right of the tables, "Mitchell, would you like to tell me what is going on?"
"No…Nothing." He stammered out.
She gave him her patented death-stare, on loan from her father, "Really?" It was monotone and smooth.
"Umm, well…" He gave in and panicked, "I didn't…knowthatweweren'tsupposedtogoout…" He noticed the look in her eyes and began to speak slower, "And give those people justice so I went and saw the Dursleys. Andnowthey'rehere." He sped through the last piece.
The anger caused her blood to boil, then cast a glance at her brother. His eyes were worried, scared. The elder Potter closed her eyes and shoved the hatred back. "Mitch, you are in more trouble than I can speak right now. I promise I'm not mad at you, that's why I'm going to reserve the right to explain your punishment later because if I were to voice it now, I'd probably start yelling."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Where are the Dursleys?" She inquired, while trying to calm her frazzled nerves. He gave no answer, "Now!"
He swallowed thickly, "He…here. In the dungeons."
"They're in the dungeons?!"
Jonay snorted, "Got what they deserve."
Immediately Heather turned around, "No. They…they deserve some sort of punishment for willful neglect of a child, but not at our hands. It'd be better for them to be tried by the Muggles. Not us."
"But…but…"
She returned her sight to the boy, "Take them back to Privet Drive. I will speak with them at a later date about their…care of my brother." The redhead sighed, then tripped forward and fell directly onto the dais stairs. Severus was beside her instantly – dark eyes looking into golden ones.
He had learned early on with her to not stop her visions; the damage to her psyche would not be good if he did. Especially since Dumbledore had made that mistake earlier. Moments passed.
"I am developing a severe hatred toward the Deatheaters." Her voice was cracked, and she mutely rubbed her eyes then temples, "I think that it's time I went home. Grandpa, if you please." He nodded in response, helping Minerva rise.
The male professor gingerly picked his daughter up, noting that Minerva was doing the same to their now sleeping son. Swiftly, both left the Order's Main Hall, making their way outside where another portkey was waiting on the moist, dewy ground.
"There's only one." He remarked.
"I know. Tommy will make another." Her voice was a bare whisper, her eyelids dropping.
The two professors touched it.
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*v* Cassie Jamie *v*
cj.1@cassie-jamie.com
Okay, I think I might issue a challenge if I can get the details straight in my mind. Lemme know if anyone would be interested.
