This chapter was written by Kris, penname kris250.
Disclaimer: I own none of the things that you recognize. J.K. Rowling owns the rest.
An hour later, Dumbledore sat at the head of a long wooden table and looked at the worried faces around him. Everyone was worried about Harry, and it showed on the faces stretched with worry. He took a deep breath, and called for attention. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I called this meeting."
A few heads nodded in agreement.
"It is about Harry Potter."
Noise was instantaneous, and questions buzzed across the room. Dumbledore held up his hand. "The reason I have called this meeting is to see which of you are willing to go on a rescue mission into Voldemort's fortress."
Tense silence echoed throughout the room as Dumbledore surveyed his shocked comrades. He wondered who would be the first...
"You are mad." Ah, Kingsley, thought Dumbledore. The man was quiet, but spoke up when he deemed the situation necessary.
Dumbledore smiled. "You would be astounded at the number of times I've gotten that."
"Harry Potter has been missing for three days. No one's ever lasted that long in the Dark Fortress! It's a wonder the Deatheaters didn't murder him on the spot!" Kingsley said.
"Ah, but they didn't. Why? My sources say that he is being... interrogated about the Order."
"Interrogated! Honestly, Dumbledore, you know as well as everyone else sitting in this room does the full meaning off the word interrogating! It merely means that there wasn't enough time to murder him yet!" Molly Weasley said. She was nearly hysterical with grief.
Dumbledore nodded. "As you just said, Molly, he is not dead yet. That means that there is still a chance to save him."
"To what degree and purpose, Dumbledore!" Kingsley yelled. "The one- mark the word 'one'- time we have ever rescued someone from the dungeons of the Dark Fortress, the man was stark raving mad with torture! How do you know Harry won't be the same?"
"My sources tell me that he is still sane, but nearly beaten."
"'My sources'- how do you know that your 'sources' are correct!"
"I would trust Severus with my life, as I have said before."
"How do you know that he hasn't been found out? The enemy could be feeding you straight lies!" Both men were now on their feet. "They could be leading us all into a trap!"
There was now an odd fire in Dumbledore's eyes. "What kind of fool do you take me for?" He asked. "Do you think I do not have some kind of charm that prevents forgery on the parchment I send Severus? Do you think that I do not have some means of making sure that it is the same parchment I sent him?"
Kingsley seemed flustered. "I- Dumbledore- I didn't mean to imply- I- well." He gathered his composure together. "Even if your sources ARE correct, and Potter IS still sane, and we DO make it into the Fortress, the chances are one hundred to one that we'd get out of there alive. A hundred to one, Dumbledore! Are you seriously willing to sacrifice precious members of our Order to go on a crazy rescue mission that will fail before it even begins!"
Dumbledore's eyes flashed. "Sit down and listen to me Kingsley, and listen to me well." Kingsley obliged. "Have I ever led anyone into danger without reason?"
Reluctantly, Kingsley muttered, "No."
"And have I ever done anything without a just cause?"
Again, Kingsley shook his head.
"And have I EVER been wrong?"
Kingsley looked up. "Actually, yes you have."
Dumbledore nodded. "Exactly. Which goes to show that everyone can make mistakes. And Voldemort's mistake was that he didn't kill Harry on the spot. A mistake that I intend to make sure he doesn't correct."
With those last words, Dumbledore sat down and listened as the many voices of the Order argued over the fate of Harry Potter.
Harry lay on the floor of his tiny cell, panting. He slowly tried to calm down his fast beating heart and silence his screaming muscles. He stilled as he heard many footsteps. Had the Deatheaters come to fetch and torture him once more? The heavy cell door opened and, to his surprise and relief, another prisoner was thrown roughly into Harry's cell. Harry strained to pick himself off the floor and take a peak at the newcomer, but the pain was too unbearable. He had only enough time to make out the vague shape of a girl before all went black.
A/N: Okay, now that that's done, we need another writer. Come on, any takers? You know you want to!
Thanks for the reviews!
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