HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

Created by J.K. Rowling, Anticipated For Impatient Readers by Chrissy

Disclaimer: Harry and all of his friends belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc., and not me. Obviously I don't know what the Order of the Phoenix is in her mind; this is merely my interpretation. No money is being made off of this story, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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CHAPTER EIGHT: DIAGON ALLEY

The house was in an uproar when Harry woke the next morning. Ron was already awake, pulling a t-shirt over his head, and scrambling out of bed. "I wonder what all the fuss is about."

Harry could venture a guess from the sunlight streaming through the window. If they were going to Diagon Alley, then they obviously weren't getting the early start the twins had lobbied for.

By the time Harry reached the kitchen, Ron had thrown himself into the argument.

"Mum!" he was howling. "You can't do this! It's not fair! It's not right!"

"We're all out of Dungbombs!" George complained.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes flashed. "And it's high time, too! I'm sorry, George, but you'll have to come up with a better argument than that!"

"Well, what about our books?" Fred questioned hopefully. "We'll have to go in for those."

"What's going on?" Ginny questioned from the stairs. She and Hermione had finally emerged, as well.

"We're not going to Diagon Alley!" Ron answered furiously. "Not even for books," he added, seeing Hermione open her mouth in protest.

"I've already told you," Mrs. Weasley said impatiently. "Your father picked up your school things yesterday. They're all here." She gestured through he living room door, where they all noticed for the first time the coffee table groaning under a mountain of books.

Ron opened and closed his mouth furiously, but could not seem to think of any cogent argument.

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry ventured, "I thought we finished our punishments yesterday. Didn't we do everything you asked?"

"Oh, honestly," Mrs. Weasley laughed. "No, Harry, this is not part of your punishment. Really, I'm sorry you won't be able to go this year, but it's simply too dangerous, and that's that. Now!" She turned back to the porridge brewing on the stovetop. "Who would like some breakfast?"

Ron was shaking his head in amazement, and Harry could tell what he was thinking. Mrs. Weasley simply didn't understand. Diagon Alley was far more important than just books. for Harry, it was his only chance to move about in the wizarding world, other than Hogsmeade visits. and now it appeared that it was going to be a whole year before he would see it again.

An owl flew through the window at that moment, and Harry looked up in surprise. There had been hardly any owls going through the Weasleys' house for the past few days, especially for any of the teenagers. After all, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were already here; who would they need to write to?

It appeared to be a delivery owl, though. It quickly dropped a newspaper on the kitchen table, and then landed on the edge of the countertop, clicking its beak expectantly, waiting for money.

"Oh, honestly!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, quickly fishing five Knuts from her pocket. "A bit late, today, aren't we?" she questioned the bird testily, as it flew back out the window.

Ron picked up the paper and cleared his throat. "Ministry Attempts to Cover Return of Dark Lord," he read slowly.

Mrs. Weasley dropped her spoon and gasped. "What?"

"It's the headline," Ron said shakily. "And look, there's a picture of the Dark Mark over Flourish and Blotts." He continued to read:

Cornelius Fudge has made mistakes in the past, but the Ministry's
latest blunder has some members of Britain's wizarding community calling
for his resignation.

Sources inside the Ministry of Magic have revealed that Sunday's
attack on Diagon Alley was not the first such incident, and that more
attacks are suspected.

"This is most definitely the work of the Dark Lord," one source
commented, on condition of anonymity. "Cornelius Fudge needs to admit
this now before conditions get any worse. If we ignore his return, we
will find ourselves in the same situation we were in fifteen years ago."

On Sunday, an attack was carried out in broad daylight on a bookstore
on Diagon Alley. The Dark Mark was found hovering in the sky above it.
Mr. Alfred Blotts, the owner, was found dead inside the store. Nine
customers were killed, including two children buying their schoolbooks.

When asked to comment, French Minister of Magic Jacques Singe had
this to say: "Minister Fudge has made a grave mistake in keeping this
news from world attention. If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is indeed rising
again, every wizarding community around the world must be ready to
defend itself."

Mr. Fudge could not be reached for comment.

Ron looked up, shaken. "What do they mean, 'two children were killed'?" he questioned his mother. "You didn't tell us that! Who were they?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Oh, I only found out this morning. the poor dears."

"Who were they, Mum?" Ginny questioned, sounding quite frightened.

"It wasn't anyone we know.," George put in hesitantly.

Mrs. Weasley looked close to tears. "Well. perhaps you ought to sit down."

Ginny looked even paler, and took her mother's advice. "Who?" she questioned softly, her voice shaking.

"I'm afraid Dana Creevey was killed, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said softly. "She was about to start her first year."

"C-Colin's sister?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I've already owled their mother. Oh, that poor woman. I simply can't imagine." She sighed again. "There was another girl, as well. A fifth year, I believe. Susan Bones."

Hermione gasped. "Oh my God. Susan. I know her."

"I knew her grandparents," Mrs. Weasley said fondly. "They were both killed in the war, but. they were truly wonderful people. They did everything in their power to stop You-Know-Who - er, Voldemort - from rising, everything they possibly could. Hannah Bones went to school with him, you see. She was there right from the beginning."

Harry had remained silent through all of this. His fists were clenched at his sides, his teeth gritted tightly. A thousand thoughts and feelings were running through his head, not the least of which was guilt. It was his blood, he realized. His blood had helped bring Voldemort back. His blood was coursing through Voldemort's veins. His blood had helped raise the arm that killed Susan Bones and Dana Creevey.

***

An hour later found Harry brooding in the garden. He wanted to be alone, and the garden seemed to be the only place unoccupied at the moment.

Hermione was in shock. Ron had taken her to the living room and tried to get her to play some Exploding Snap to cheer her up, but it hadn't worked. She kept talking about the two girls who had died. She'd known Susan Bones; they'd sat together in Arithmancy.

The twins had followed them out to the living room, but they seemed more worried about the death of Dana Creevey. They kept shooting glances at Hermione, and muttering about attacks on Muggle-borns, obviously worried.

Ginny had only allowed her mother to comfort her for a few moments; then she had disappeared into her room to draft a letter to Colin Creevey, Dana's brother, and one of her only friends at Hogwarts.

And Harry had retreated to the garden. He didn't think he could stand to be around the Weasleys right now. An overwhelming wave of guilt had taken hold of him, and would not be shaken off.

For the first time in his life, Harry was completely at a loss for what to do. He knew what he wanted to do - he wanted to go after Voldemort. He wanted the chance to do the right thing. He wanted to end the danger, to save Sirius, and Professor Lupin, and Professor Dumbledore, and the Weasleys.

The Weasleys. he remembered his conversation with Ron and Hermione the night before. He still didn't understand the Order of the Phoenix. He didn't know how it had been created, or who all of its members were.

But he understood a bit better today. True, the night before he had been sympathetic to the Weasleys. He had thought he could even accept the torture and killing.

But now he understood. He understood how someone as kind and gentle as Mr. Weasley could force himself to do something so horrible. He knew how it felt to want something so badly that you were willing to do anything for it, to give anything up. Harry wasn't sure he liked the way it felt.