Chapter Two
The Changes in Ourselves
Harry spent most of the afternoon drafting a letter to Dumbledore listing various reasons he should be allowed to take Potions class, not the least of which was his desire to further his education as an Auror after graduation, and then spent the rest lounging around with Hermione and Ron in the one of the many bedrooms on the third floor of number 12 Grimmauld Place that they had turned into a make shift study.
One of the large circular tables that was stowed away in the attic served as their desk and chairs stolen from the basement kitchen, their chairs. Hermione did find a softening charm that is mostly used on brooms that padded the wooden chair nicely for extended studying times.
"Can we go play chess now or something, I'm bored," announced Ron.
Hermione chose this time for one of her tough love speeches. "Ron, you stood there in your room last night complaining about not having anything to do with your life. Why do you think that is?"
He was clueless. "Uh ... I'm poor?"
She rolled her eyes. "You won't apply yourself."
"Now she's starting to sound like mum."
Hermione's face soured up. "Let me put this another way. You'd better start developing a more disciplined study routine and devote yourself to receiving the highest possible score on your N.E.W.T.'s or you'll end up in your own self-fulfilling prophecy."
"What did she just say ... study for N.E.W.T.'s, right now?" he asked Harry. Harry just shrugged. "And what's this about a prophecy? I'm not taking Divination."
"Honestly, Ron, I don't know why I bother. Go ahead and shirk your studies for another two years and see where it gets you. You'll be lucky if you qualify to be Filch's assistant by the time your N.E.W.T.'S come along."
Harry thought that was a little harsh, but Ron had to see things clearly if he was going to pass the tests that were to determine what he was going to do for the rest of his life, and mentioning Filch just might be the right inducement for self-motivation than anything he could think of. He shuddered.
"What?" asked Ron.
Harry pulled his book down. "A picture appeared in my head of you, a hundred years old, dashing through the secret passageways of Hogwarts chasing Peeves and shouting 'I've got you now!' with Pig flying all about your head."
Ron's face went a little green when he pictured it himself.
Harry sighed and stood up, laying Advanced Transfiguration open on the table, so he didn't lose his place. "I'm going down to the kitchen to get some pumpkin juice. Anyone want some?"
Hermione shook her head no.
"Yeah, I guess, if we're going to be here all day," said Ron gloomily.
Harry stepped out, on to the landing, and pulled the door closed. When he reached the second floor landing he stared down the hall where Sirius' bedroom lay and the room adjacent that housed the Hippogriff, Buckbeak. He looked back upstairs for some reason, like maybe to see if anyone would see him if he went down to look at the rooms.
He knew that they'd be empty, or at the very least untouched from the last time they were used, in June, but he still had to see for himself. The house became eerily quiet as he stepped forward and made his way closer to the first door. Harry's focus seemed to take in only the two doors and the rest of the house faded away. He remembered the feeing in his reoccurring dream from last year as he was walking toward the closed door of the Department of Mysteries; it was oddly similar.
By the time he had reached the door he realized that his breathing had increased and the feeling of sweat above his upper lip made him swipe away at his mouth to relive himself of its distraction. The old snake crested doorknob to Buckbeak's old room had been replaced with of plain brass and it was surprisingly cold when Harry placed his hand on it and turned.
He took a breath and pushed the door open, only to find a completely empty room: no straw on the floor, no chewed up ferret bones, no strong stench of unclean Hippogriff. The entire scene was so unexpectedly anti-climactic that Harry let loose a rush of breath that he hadn't realized he was holding, and laughed to himself at his feeling of fear.
After closing the door he turned and laid his hand on the doorknob to Sirius' old room, twisting it to open the door slightly. If any room in the house had been left out of respect to Harry it would have been this one. He eased the door open and heard an odd rattling sound from inside.
Harry looked quickly as he pulled out his wand, just in case. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped tentatively inside. He heard something like a bullfrog on the other side of the large bed, off-center, near the back of the room across from the fireplace. The closer he neared the clearer the sound got, until he was standing in front of the still and unused fireplace.
"... not fit to step foot in this house. Filthy blood traitors infesting my poor Mistress' house with their Mudblood friends, and that half-blood misfit that went and destroyed the Dark Lord. Kreacher wants to know how he did it ..."
All blood left Harry's face as he felt a massive chill rake down his spine. His hands shook so much that his wand fell away onto the floor.
"You," he whispered.
His mind was clean and empty except for the conversation he and Kreacher had via Floo last June when Harry needed to know if Sirius had left the house. It was Kreacher's maniacal laughter at saying that Sirius would never return and he and his Mistress would finally be alone. More than almost anyone with the exception of Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort, Kreacher was responsible for his godfather's death. And now Harry had his chance for revenge.
He brought his hand up to utter a curse so horrible that Kreacher would die instantly, but found his hand empty and his wand missing. A quick scan of the floor did not reveal its presence, but located something of equal value when disposing of murdering little house-elves ... a fire-iron.
Harry hefted the iron in his hand and felt the cold steel somewhat similar to the chill he felt in his heart. Two more steps brought him closer to the pathetic elf sitting on the floor in its own filth muttering over and over again.
The fire-iron arced its way into the air and held for a fraction of a second, for Harry wanted more than anything in the world for the despicable Kreacher to see his end coming and the form that it would take.
"Kreacher," Harry's voice cracked.
The miserably, filthy elf turned its head up at the sound and it's eyes went wide at the sight of an enraged and vengeful Harry Potter ... and the fire-iron fell with damning intent and a sickening crunch on Kreacher's leg. The house-elf screamed and scrambled under the bed as quick as his injured leg would take him.
Harry rushed around for another strike and missed this time, only an inch short of crushing the house-elf's foot before it snaked out of sight. He fell to his knees and lashed out underneath the bed a second before lifting up the dust cover that lay across the mattress.
"Come out, murderer!"
He lifted the dust cover up to reveal empty space underneath. At once he leapt to his feet and saw Kreacher almost to the door, trying in vain to make an escape. But the House-elf was pitifully slow, having to drag itself along the floor because of it's inability to run.
Harry hopped on top of the bed and over, dashing madly with the fire-iron held high once more. Kreacher made his way onto the landing and tried desperately to pull itself up by use of one of the decorative braces. Harry didn't know whether it was the elf's weight or if the brace had simply rotted away over time, but in either case the brace gave way and took Kreacher with it over the side and to the hardwood floor below.
He came to a stop at the railing and peered over the side to see the crumpled body of Kreacher laying with it's neck twisted at an odd angle. Relief and satisfaction fell over him in a warm blanket of triumph before he heard a voice from the side.
"Harry? What have you done?"
He turned his head to the voice and saw the frightened face of Hermione staring at him with her hands over her mouth. A strange calm settled his face and he dropped the fire-iron where he stood and walked toward the stairway.
"I'm taking care of unfinished business," he said coldly.
He took the steps downward two at a time landing on the bottom floor with a resounding slap of his shoes. The moth-bitten curtains covering the portrait of Sirius's mother slid aside and the loud ruckus, of curses and screams, began again.
Harry walked by and kicked out at Kreacher's body as he passed to make sure he was dead, and then walked calmly into the living room to the roll-top desk and sat down in front, opening several drawers until he found parchment and a quill.
"What's all this, then?" he heard the voice of Mrs. Weasley above the screams of Sirius' mother in the hallway. She must have been down in the kitchen and only now came up to find out who set off the portrait again. He heard her brief gasp and then finished what he was doing.
Harry folded the parchment several times until it was half the size of his palm and returned to the lifeless body laying in the entry hall. It was surrounded by a shocked Ron and Hermione, a fearful Mrs. Weasley and a rather smug looking Ginny.
With much disgust at having to touch the body of the dead house-elf Harry shoved the note into it's mouth and dragged it to the fireplace and shoved it in. A second later he had grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and threw it in as well, yelling, "Malfoy Manor!"
With a Whoosh of flames Kreacher was out of his life forever and the message had been delivered. He took three steps backward and fell onto the couch facing the fireplace and let the tears start to fall.
He awoke sometime later in the evening laying down on the very same couch except something was different. His head was resting in what he assumed was someone's lap. Upon further inspection he noticed it was Hermione's, and she too was asleep, her head lolling to the side.
Harry sat up abruptly and jostled her awake in the process.
Hermione twisted her head this way and that, rubbing an obvious crick in her neck. "What time is it?"
He ignored her question. "Hermione, why was I asleep on your lap?"
She stopped rubbing her neck at his question. "You don't remember?"
"Remember what?"
She narrowed her eyes, trying to get a better look at him in the dim light. "Harry, do you remember what you did before you fell asleep?"
He looked to the side and around the room quickly. "What are we doing in here. I was ..." He stopped and tried to think of what he was doing. "I was going to get some pumpkin juice for me and Ron ..."
She nodded. "What happened after that?"
From the look on her face and the tone of her question he could tell that something happened. Something was not right.
"Hermione, what happened," he almost begged.
She took his hand into both of hers. "Oh, Harry. You must have blocked it out. The entire episode."
Horror crept onto his face as he remembered Ginny's words from last year about losing time and not knowing what she was doing when Voldemort took possession of her.
"Voldemort," he whispered.
Hermione shook her head. "No Harry, it was you. I'm sure of it."
"Hermione, what exactly did I do?"
She looked at the fire and back to him again, seemingly unsure if she should say anything. "I don't know what happened before I reached the second landing, but Kreacher was trying to get away from you and fell through the railing. You came out of Sirius' room holding a fire-iron and ... and ... "
He couldn't take anymore; not remembering any of this was pushing him over the edge. "And what?"
"You were gone, Harry. It wasn't Voldemort, I'm sure about that, but you were cold as ice when you turned to me and dropped the iron. The look on your face ..." She stopped there and continued with her story some minutes ahead in the telling. "Then you shoved a bit of parchment in his mouth and Floo'd him to Malfoy Manor."
Harry was quite unbelieving. "I did not."
"Harry, I was there I saw what you did." She paused. "And then you sat down on the couch and started crying. That's when I came over here. You laid your head on my lap and cried yourself to sleep."
He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I don't remember doing any of those things." He stopped when he felt small amounts of tear trails that ran the length of his face.
They were interrupted a few moments later when Mrs. Weasley entered the room. "Still in here, are you?" She neared the couch and stared worryingly at Harry. "How are you feeling, Harry dear? Hermione told me how you were trying to catch Kreacher and he fell off the landing. Shoddy craftsmanship if you ask me. This house is falling apart around us."
He looked at Hermione questioningly, but didn't say anything.
"Well, dears, I've got dinner ready downstairs if you are up to it."
Harry nodded. "Thanks. We'll be down in a second. We need to wash up."
He couldn't think of a better reason to be alone with Hermione and confirm what Mrs. Weasley had just said, or find out what really happened.
She smiled softly. "Well it's about time that someone in this house knows the necessity of clean hands and faces. We'll see you down there presently then."
The moment she left, Harry closed to Hermione's ear so they wouldn't be overheard. "Is that what happened? I was trying to catch Kreacher?"
Hermione looked extraordinarily nervous. "Harry --
"What aren't you telling me?" he insisted.
She turned to him and he saw the sadness in her eyes. "Harry, I think you were trying to kill him."
He looked for any trace of uncertainty in her face and was staggered not to find any at all.
Harry felt a pain in his chest and darkness slid over his face. "I tried to kill him. And I would have if he didn't' fall first ..." Something came to him. "I didn't throw him over did I?"
She shook her head adamantly. "No, I saw him fall. The railing did give way."
They both sat for another minute as Harry mulled over the thought of purposely killing another living, thinking creature before Hermione grabbed his hand and led him to the facilities to wash up.
After he had splashed water on his face it seemed to lift him out of his self-imposed introspection and bring him around to what he was actually doing, standing in the loo with a girl who was handing him a dry towel.
"Thanks," he said.
He patted his face with the cloth and when he pulled it away he noticed Hermione was standing unusually close. Her eyes were sorrowful and understanding all at once when she set her hand on his face and pulled him down in a hug with the other.
It was warm and full of friendship, which was what he needed more than anything, and in return he wanted to thank her without saying anything because he didn't really trust his voice right then. So he kissed her cheek they pulled apart, only Hermione did the precisely the same thing at exactly the same time and their lips brushed together briefly.
Harry jumped back as if he had just committed the granddaddy of all faux pas' of all time. One did not kiss their best friends on the lips under any circumstances.
"Um ... sorry. I meant to ... erm ... your cheek."
She smiled sweetly. "It's okay, Harry. I think we'll survive." She looked down. "See, I'm not melting into a little pile of goo over a kiss from the famous Harry Potter."
He rolled his eyes and almost laughed. "Thanks for that."
Hermione laughed. "Go on downstairs. I have to do something first, okay."
He followed her eyes to the toilet and made a quick exit almost running down the stairs for suddenly he found he had quite an appetite.
When Mrs. Weasley produced a number of pumpkin pies for dessert Ron's eye's lit up, but she brought them right back down again.
"You four only get to share one; the rest are for the meeting tonight."
Harry's ears perked up at that. "An Order of the Phoenix meeting, tonight?"
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "And I want the lot of you upstairs in fifteen minutes out of sight." She then eyed Ron and Ginny with an intense amount of scrutiny and took out her wand. "Accio Extendable Ears!"
Satisfied that they did not have any of Fred and George's contraband from last year she set about serving each of them a quarter piece of the pie before Hermione stopped her.
"A small piece for me please, Mrs. Weasley."
She nodded curiously. "Don't like pumpkin pie, dear?"
"Oh no, I love it. But I want to watch my figure this year," she said sheepishly.
Ron laughed, or he would have if his mouth wasn't full of pie already. "Gof a guh eine up?"
Ginny screwed up her face. "I really wish you wouldn't talk with your mouth full. It's quite repulsive."
Ron swallowed audibly and set his voice in a higher octave. "It's quite repulsive." He snorted. "I said, have you got a guy lined up for this year. I hope it's not Dean Thomas. Ginny's been getting letters from him all summer. Quite sickening really."
Mrs. Weasley came to her daughter's rescue. "Leave your sister alone, Ron, it's not her fault if she's turned out to be stunningly attractive like her mother."
Ron snorted at the comment about Ginny being attractive and didn't realize that he had just offended his mother.
"Accio Pie!" And his pie shot out from in front of him. "Let's see you watch your figure this year as well, Ronald Weasley."
"Hey!"
Harry and Hermione sat to the side snickering to themselves.
After setting their plates in the sink Mrs. Weasley shooed them off upstairs before the members of the Order started arriving.
"I don't know why we can't attend the meetings now, "Ron said indignantly. "I mean we faced down the whole lot of Death Eaters last year, didn't we. If anyone has a right to be there it's us."
Hermione picked up her study schedule to make small adjustments. "We're not of age, Ron."
"I'll be seventeen in just a few months. What difference will a couple of months make about whether or not I know something? It's not like I'll be any smarter by then."
She sat the schedule back down on the table. "Or any more mature."
Ron nodded and then stopped as if he wasn't sure if he'd been insulted or not.
Harry closed in on the door, trying in vain to see if he could hear anything through the solid wood. "I'd sure like to know what's going on."
Ginny leaned back on Ron's bed re-reading her latest letter from Dean. "Mum's still got that damned charm on the door. You'll never hear anything going on."
"Ginny, watch your mouth," warned Ron.
She leaned up and tossed Ron's pillow at his head. "Oh, I'm old enough to risk my life and get my leg broken at the Ministry, but I can't curse?"
Ron ducked about of the way. "That about sums it up."
"Shh. I think someone just came in," whispered Harry as he cracked the door open.
Ron ran up to the door and tried to listen. "I can't hear anything."
Harry frowned. "Neither can I."
They heard a book close shut behind them and a chair scoot out. "Honestly, Harry. I would think you of all people would have cracked open your Spells book by now."
Ron backed away. "What are you on about?"
"The Enhanced Listening charm?" she offered.
Harry looked down at Ron and shrugged his shoulders.
Hermione pulled out her wand and tapped Harry's right ear. "Auidbilis!"
He jumped and cringed, holding his ear closed when Ron said, "What's that do?"
Hermione shushed him and performed the same spell on him, Ginny and then herself as quietly as she could. Harry eased the door open and they crawled out onto the landing and listened to the conversation below.
They heard the sound of Remus Lupin's voice like he was standing right next to them. "It's the Death Eater's March all over again."
"Don't be overly dramatic, Lupin. So they've harassed a street full of Muggles. It's not like they haven't performed similar mindless acts like this in the past," said the voice of their potions master Severus Snape.
Harry felt a surge of hatred and animosity toward the one person that could have stopped the events of last term. If only he had been a more compassionate teacher and worked with Harry instead of trying to abuse him at every turn during his Occlumency lessons. He felt his face burn and the clutching of his fists with their nails biting into his palms.
Then he sensed something else, or rather someone else. He looked down to find Hermione's hand on his arm and her curious face inches next to his, and all his fury drifted away. He smiled grimly at her and turned back to the conversation.
"We can't allow it to happen again, Severus." said Lupin. "I'm going to talk to "Mad-Eye" about it. Get his opinion."
Snape exhaled. "And the next thing you know we'll be on all night patrols and we will never get anything accomplished."
Ron's Mother opened the door to the kitchen. "No talking about Order business in the halls. I don't want the children hearing."
"Mad-Eye" Moody arrived next and Harry knew they were being spied upon by his notorious revolving eye for Moody purposely looked upward and straight at him briefly before heading downstairs. Next was Kingsley Shaklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks, partnered Aurors and well placed Order spies inside the Ministry. Arthur Weasley popped in, Apparating in the main hall, and trotted downstairs.
They all heard the kitchen door closing and an abrupt cessation of any sound therein.
Hermione sat up and tapped her own ear. "Gonhieran!" Then she performed the same to Ginny and Ron. Harry, however, cocked his head for he heard something, a thump-thump type of sound. Hermione looked at him with a questioning face. He put his hand on hers and pushed it downward slightly, not wanting the spell to end just yet. As he did he heard the thump-thumping increase.
Hermione risked a barely audible whisper. "Harry?"
Harry held up his finger for her to be quiet as he tried to located the sound. He sat up and swiveled his head around until the sound became louder and followed it to its source. It seemed to be coming from behind Hermione. A brief panic overcame him as he remembered the Basilisk incident in his second year when only he could hear the snakelike creature, but he immediately discounted this as his hearing was enhanced and was very probably the reason only he could hear the sound.
He swiveled to his hands and knees and crawled slowly behind Hermione until the sound became softer as he was leading himself away. He turned and centered his ear closer and closer. The thump-thumping increased in speed until he bumped into Hermione's chest and finally realized what the sound was.
Harry sat up abruptly and pointed to his ear. Hermione performed the counter-charm and his hearing decreased back to normal.
"I heard your heart."
She sighed in relief. "Oh." She looked down and back up at him. "The charm is mainly used by Mediwitches and Healers for just that reason."
Harry shrugged it off and they joined Ron and Ginny back in the room.
"So what's this about a Death Eater's March?" asked Ron.
Hermione stepped quickly over to her trunk and pulled out one of her many books. "I know I've heard of that somewhere. Let me see." She flipped through and scanned a number of pages, closed that book and pulled another out.
"Here it is! In Notable Events of the Twentieth-Century, " she said excitedly. "The so-called Death Eater's March ..." She read the rest over to herself to refresh her memory and then closed the book.
Harry was eager to hear what she had to say. "So?"
She set the book back in her trunk and sat up straight up in Harry's bed. "It happened back during Voldemort's first reign of terror. He led his Death Eaters into small Muggles townships and created havoc: stealing valuable items, accosting Muggles, even killing some. There was much speculation as to why he even bothered."
Ron snorted. "Cause he's a hateful git is why."
Harry nodded.
Hermione continued. "Most thought just that; perhaps he was just having a bit of his twisted idea of fun. But some others speculate he was searching for something."
Harry became very interested. "What?"
Hermione shook her head. "Nobody knows. There was a peculiar pattern to the 'March'. They would only occur during the nights of the full moon and ..."
"Werewolves, they want to recruit werewolves!" Ron said excitedly.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be silly. Why would they subject themselves to possible infection and what use would they be. They can only turn every full moon. There's not a lot you can accomplish in only one night."
Ron looked sullen with his idea set aside so quickly.
"To continue ... the marches only happened on the night of the full moon, in villages with populations less than a hundred, and oddly enough, where only one prominent wizard previously held residence."
Harry pondered for a moment. "It's like they were looking for someone."
"Or some thing," added Hermione. "And covering it up by the carnage of the 'March'."
An hour dragged by before they heard voices, obviously raised, indicating the meeting's end, and the four of them exited the temporary exile of the bedroom to greet some old friends.
Before they reached the door of basement kitchen they heard several loud pops Harry recognized as someone either Disapparating of Apparating. If it was his guess, people were leaving. Ron was the first through the door followed by Harry and Hermione trailing behind.
"Thought this thing would never be over with, I'm starved."
Hermione scoffed, "Ron, you only ate an hour ago."
Harry spotted Remus Lupin and Dumbledore speaking at the far end of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was closest to the door, cleaning up after the meeting.
"Where is everyone?" he asked.
She looked up from sending the small plates over to the sink where others were in various stages of being cleaned by a free-floating scrub-brush. "Things to do, Harry."
Harry was crestfallen that barely anyone stayed behind to at least say hello to him. He sat at the table next to Hermione and across from Ron waiting for Remus and Dumbledore to finish their conversation.
"What are they on about?" asked Ron after he swallowed a piece of confiscated pumpkin pie that was left behind.
Harry shrugged his shoulders. Remus didn't look altogether happy about something and Dumbledore was his usual upright and resolute self. He wondered what the headmaster was going to do this year that would make Harry's life a living hell.
He stopped and blinked a couple of times, wondering why he thought such a thing about the professor and then realized that their small meeting had broken up. Dumbledore and Remus strode up and stood beside the door to the kitchen.
"Harry," Dumbledore said. "Would you join us, please ?"
Harry looked to his two friends. "Be right back."
Hermione looked on with interest and Ron frowned at not being invited as well. He followed the two wizards up the staircase and through the hall to a private room that Harry had only seen a couple of times last summer. Remus closed the folding doors and placed a Imperturbable Charm upon it so they would not be overheard. Harry's interest was peaked at the secrecy and he felt an almost energetic rush at being let in on something interesting, for once.
Dumbledore conjured himself a squashy armchair and one for both he and Remus before beginning.
"Sit, Harry, sit," he offered.
Harry obliged and sat forward in his chair to listen attentively.
"It has come to my attention that you have left Privet Drive prematurely."
Harry cringed inwardly and a little outwardly as well. "Um ..."
"You must return for another week, at least," continued Dumbledore. "You know as well as I the protection afforded you by your mother's blood."
Harry nodded. "Yes, but ..."
A serious look overcame Dumbledore. Harry rarely every got to see the serious side of the headmaster and usually only over a subject quite grim.
"There must be no mistaking where your home lays, Harry."
There was no doubt in Harry's mind about where his real home lay. He'd spent sixteen years with the Dursley's being mentally abused, being told he was worthless and nothing but a strain on their finances, and their general well being. They had treated him worse than the dirt under their fingernails and he knew that a real home was nothing like what he had experienced.
A surge of impertinence overcame Harry at that moment. "This is my home."
Dumbledore frowned under his silver beard. Harry looked across at Remus who sat nonplused.
"Indeed? And who will protect you here?"
Who had ever protected him? Hagrid had when he first appeared on the small bit of rock and told Harry that he was a wizard and would suffer no disrespect from his Uncle Vernon, his friends Ron and Hermione numerous times over the years, Ron's parents by allowing him to stay at their home a couple of summers, Dumbledore who save him from the wrath of Voldemort last June, and a few threats toward the Dursley's offered in his stead by Mad-Eye, Tonks, and Mr. Weasley so they'd leave him alone this summer.
But who could he really depend on when and if it came down to it? Remus, maybe. Hermione and Ron, probably. Everyone else?
"I'll protect myself. I'm not living with the Dursley's anymore. This is my home."
Dumbledore's face now turned grim. "Harry, this is the Black Family Estate. I do not know how long it will go unnoticed by Narcissa Malfoy, nor her kin. They will eventually come to take possession of the house. Unplottable the estate may be, but for those of the family it will eventually be accessible."
Harry stood, "This is my home." He turned and started to make his way out of the room, stopping before pulling the doors open. "I know you can make me go against my will, Professor."
"I have no intension of forcing you to do something against your will. However, I will remind you of your mother's sacrifice to ensure your safety."
Harry swung around, enraged. "How can I ever forget! You remind me of it every time I turn around. You tell me how it's my fault that she's dead. You don't say it in so many words, but it's there. My parents might still be alive if it wasn't for me. And I owe something to her for saving me? Well you know what? I wished she never did!"
Remus turned in his chair. "Harry!"
Dumbledore held up his hand. "No, Remus. He will have his say."
Harry looked between them not knowing what else he had to complain about. However, it came spilling out just the same. "How many people have died because of me? My parents, Cedric, Sirius, all dead because of me. How many more people will die just so I can live? I'm not worth it!
"You won't even let me in the Order until I turn seventeen. The way my record is going I probably won't make it to seventeen and I'll wind up taking you all down with me in the meantime."
He felt his breath quicken and his anger increase. "I hate being who I am! I'm not the boy-who-lived anymore. I'M THE BOY WHO JUST WON'T DIE!"
He looked back and forth at Dumbledore's saddened expression and Remus' horrified one. "So if I can't join the Order and I can't at least have some sort of say on who does what in my name then I want the lot of you out!"
He could see Remus was about to object, but before he could, Harry pulled out a piece of parchment from his back pocket and unfolded it. "This is my home. Sirius willed it to me. I am not going back to the Dursley's and I will not stand aside anymore and let anyone else die because of something I didn't know or didn't have a say in."
He handed the deed of ownership to Dumbledore who did not bother to read it, because he probably already knew about the will in the first place.
Harry set his jaw firmly in place and watched for their reactions.
Dumbledore handed the deed back to him. "If you insist in making this your home, Harry, then I will, of course, comply to your wishes for at your age I have little say in the matter. So without further ado we shall depart and wish you well in your battle against Voldemort."
Remus almost exploded. "What? Have you finally gone senile, Albus?"
Harry stood there stunned that Dumbledore was actually saying this.
"It is Harry's decision, Remus."
Remus Lupin looked tired and worn. The full moon was only a couple of nights past and he still bore the stigma of the change so he sat down abruptly. "Albus, you brought him up here to induct him into the Order, not abandon him."
Now Harry was stunned. "What?"
Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Yes, I felt with the mistakes I made last year that you should be part of the Order of the Phoenix, however I believe I have reconsidered. Certain members expressed their concern that you were still too young and not mature enough to take on such responsibility."
"But ..."
"And by your actions in this room I still do not agree with them. You have shown that you wish to be either self-sufficient or become part of the Order in matters of decision making. I agree you will be able to survive on your own, for a time. However you have not the experience nor tactical knowledge needed to advise such a group of individuals as the Order. So I am left with only one choice."
"But ..."
Dumbledore stood, resolute as ever. "Yes?"
Harry fell back into his chair, defeated. "All I wanted was to be left alone."
Dumbledore looked down at him. "And you shall have your wish, Harry."
He looked back up. "But what about the prophecy?"
Dumbledore pondered on that a moment. "I assume without proper train that you would receive at Hogwarts, when the time comes, you will die, and then you will have your wish of being left alone."
"Albus!"
Dumbledore looked over to Remus and back at Harry. "I will not hold back any further truths from you, Harry. Because I did so last year, your godfather is dead. So if you are looking to me for the same sort of treatment in the future you will sorely lacking. The cold truth of the matter is that if you separate from us, you will most probably die, and Voldemort will reign, showering many deaths and destructions as to make the sacrifices your parents, Cedric, and Sirius made seem like nothing in comparison.
"If however, you decide to take part in the Order, you will be treated with the same trust and loyalty you have had from me since your parents death some sixteen years ago. You will participate in the meetings and be aware of the chances each of us takes to ensure you live to fight along with us when the time comes. You will have a voice in the decision making but no more."
It occurred to Harry that he should just give up and do whatever Dumbledore says, because in the end he'll always be forced to do so anyway. It burned into his mind that he would be nothing more than a pawn in the headmaster's little chess game of life and death, and it made him very resentful.
"Fine."
"Pardon?" said Dumbledore. "I want to make sure you know precisely what I am asking of you, Harry. There will be no more games and no more disobeying my directions. You must do everything that I say or other people will surely die."
The old grandfatherly Dumbledore seemed to be gone from his features and all that remained was just another adult that would treat him like nothing but an impertinent child. It was Snape all over again except without the insults.
The wizened figure returned to his chair and made himself comfortable. "Do we have an understanding, Harry?"
Harry nodded.
The relative humor returned to Dumbledore's face at getting his way yet again. "There will be no formal ceremony for induction, only your agreement. And as such you will be given your first assignments."
This actually perked Harry's ears up. An actual assignment for the Order of the Phoenix?
"You will continue your Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape ..."
Harry protested. "But Voldemort tried to possess me and I threw him out!"
Dumbledore nodded. "This will not keep him from entering your dreams or from spying on you as you have spied upon him. You have need to control of access to your mind otherwise you will be placing others at risk. You will practice daily and nightly the lessons of Occlumency without fail and Professor Snape will know if you are not. "
Harry grudgingly agreed.
"You will recruit Hermione Granger to help you in your studies as I want you to be a top student this year. Your grades were acceptable last year, but if you are going to have a chance against Voldemort you will need to be the very best Hogwarts has ever offered."
Harry nodded, knowing he would have absolutely no life at all.
"Molly Weasley has expressed her concerns regarding Ron's exposure to the Order vicariously through you. As I know the relationship that you hold I realize the impossibility of everything remaining secret. Therefore, you will restrict yourself to matters concerning your assignments and general information only. If specifics are related to him then I will have no choice but to remove you from the Order and prevent him from ever joining."
Harry frowned. "Ron will hate me."
"He will be of age soon enough and may join of his own accord, but until then you and Ron must respect his mother's wishes."
Harry nodded and then frowned again. "What about Hermione."
"Hermione has proven herself on a number of occasions that she can keep a secret from even her best friends. Therefore I will allow you to speak to her about matters you deem necessary. Additionally she will need to know certain specifics in order to tutor you properly."
He thought of what it was going to be like under Hermione's thumb and cringed.
"And lastly, you will continue the D.A. club that you started last year."
Harry sat up at this. "What?"
Dumbledore smiled. "The club will be officially sanctioned by the school and you will be provided the necessities in order to teach it properly. You will follow the curriculum dictated by the Defense Against the Dark Art's teacher and work with students that are most interested in joining. It will still be on a volunteer basis, however, you will have a designated schedule that you will keep instead of the randomness of last year."
Harry was overwhelmed at being told he had to continue a club that he thought was lost forever after Umbridge and Fudge found out.
"Any questions?"
Harry leaned forward. "Tons."