Chapter 46. The End of a Celebration
"Where's your mum?" Hermione asked as both she and Harry each looked around the room cautiously.
"Oh, tending to Professor Snape," Ginny said absently. "Moody came and got her, asking for her help because he was injured or something. They're in the kitchen I think."
Harry, yet once again, sat stunned as another Weasley had just let out a secret of the Order.
"S-Snape?" Neville finally managed to sputter. "What's he doing here?" he asked in a horrified voice.
Snape. Snape was back. Snape was here. Injured? Snape was injured. Good. Harry immediately chastised his one lone gloating inner voice.
"Where are you going?" Hermione asked as Harry rose grimly from his seat. Neville still looked white as a sheet and Ginny was oblivious to the reactions both boys had from her mentioning of Snape.
"I'll be back," Harry said distractedly as he waved, indicating Hermione should remain in the hall. As he strode out the hall, he could vaguely hear Neville incredulously sputtering Snape's name yet again.
Once out in the hallway, Harry Apparated below to the entry hall. The last time Snape had had contact with anyone in the Order had been the day before the attacks when he'd come to warn them and give them a tip to stake out the Crofton home. That had also been the day that Harry and Snape had both lost their cool and briefly duelled in the entry hall where Snape unwittingly used the Furious Curse on Harry, bringing about an unexpected turn of events which Dumbledore had suspected drew Voldemort's mind to Harry's through the scar connection. Harry hadn't wanted to acknowledge it, but a very reluctant voice in his head admitted he had been concerned for Snape's welfare since the incident where Voldemort was likely to have seen through Harry's own eyes that Snape had detoured from his Death Eater assignment to the Order headquarters.
As Harry quickly descended the narrow stairway down to the kitchen, he could hear the snarling voice of Snape. "Get out!"
"Oh, Severus!" Mrs. Weasley chastised. "I'll just clean you up and—"
"Molly, I think we've got it covered now that we've got the book. You can return to the party I'd say," Moody said as Harry paused outside the door to the kitchen for a moment. "Perhaps you'd want to just pop up there and save yourself the trip." Harry was quite positive that Moody was trying to detour Mrs. Weasley away from Harry for the time; he was really quite grateful.
"Oh no," she protested. "I still need to get through to Ronald that we will not be leaving here tonight until he, Harry and Hermione have all made up and dully apologized to each other. Then I need to find Ginny and make sure she hasn't gotten any wild ideas—" She stopped abruptly as Harry pushed open the door and stepped into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley stood immediately in front of him. She took a deep breath and said, "Harry, there you are! Now listen—"
"I'll be meeting with the entire Weasley family before any of you leave here tonight," Harry said to cut her off. "There're a few things everyone seems to need reminding of."
She then grabbed Harry's arm, nodded briskly and said, "Well then let's go on now. We can get it all sorted out and—"
Harry pulled free and saw Moody standing beside a hunched over form in a chair near the fireplace. He never took his eyes off of the hunched over form as he ground out, "I'll go when I'm ready." Right about now, Mrs. Weasley was not someone for whom he had a great deal of tolerance. A very large part of him wanted to blame her for insisting that Harry and Hermione keep the secret of their being in the Order from Ron and Ginny. The same part of Harry wanted to also blame her for not being able to control her own son and for failing to raise Ron with the good sense to not have a selfish snit in the middle of a Celebration where he verbally attacks the host.
"Molly," Moody's gruff and tired voice said from near the fireplace. "You ought to return upstairs. Potter, over here."
Harry walked past her at once, not even stopping to look back and see her frowning deeply before she left muttering. Snape, his curtain of greasy ink-black hair shrouding his face in matted clumps, was hunched over an old, worn book that was propped up on a short wooden side table. He was using one hand to tilt the book towards the firelight and was decidedly not looking up.
"I heard you were injured," Harry said almost accusingly; his eyes fixed on the form of Snape.
Moody cursed. "The Weasley girl, no doubt?" he said exasperatedly. Both of his eyes rolled in their sockets. "That was less than five minutes. First Charlie, now her—can none of them keep their mouths shut?"
"No, they can't," Harry answered shortly. "That's why I'm meeting with them—all of them. I'm not the only one she told." Before Moody could ask to hear more, Harry turned towards the dark form of Snape and asked, "So? Are you?"
"Leave, Potter," Snape said thickly and without his usual alacrity.
"Did he know? Did he see anything?" Harry asked immediately and Snape seemed to stiffen.
Not looking at Harry and still determinedly facing away, Snape tiredly and with a bit of a slur, said, "Stop blathering, Potter, and leave. You're impeding my will to live." Harry just looked to Moody for an explanation.
Moody just raised his bushy eyebrows as if to ask, "What do you want from me?" Harry sighed exasperatedly.
"Well, will one of you tell me what's going on?" Snape looked to be fighting the urge to turn and sneer at Harry. Harry took a step closer to him and said, "I think it's safe to assume your current condition is something near dire if you'd dare to even step foot in this house on this night of all nights. I doubt you're here for the Celebration...although, I suppose you were ready to celebrate the moment you heard--"
"Come on in Lupin," Moody's voice interrupted. The kitchen door swung open and Remus, his eyes immediately roaming the basement, walked in. He paused when he saw Harry standing just behind Snape's chair and glaring at the greasy curtain shrouding their spy's face.
"Molly's going on about how you're a real sight, Severus," Remus said tentatively.
"Blast!" Snape slurred as he slammed the book shut. "Can that woman ever shut her gob?!"
"No," Harry spat bitterly. "And it appears to be genetic tonight." That comment sufficiently caught Snape off guard so much that he actually turned to gape at Harry. This, in turn, allowed Harry to gape back as he saw Snape's—well, what had been Snape's face. "What in the..." breathlessly, Harry trailed off.
One whole side of Snape's face was spattered and smeared with blood but that looked nothing as ghastly as the other side which seemed to be lacking any sort of bone structure whatsoever beneath the bloodied, bruised, and misshapen skin. The eye socket on that side of his face seemed to have sunken in so far that the eyeball itself was the furthest protruding thing on that side of his face. Snape's mouth, so often twisted into a sneer and used to form snarling insults was now completely slack on the one side in a garish parody of a smirk. Greasy hair stuck to the blood smeared face in clumps and it was only when Harry's stare slid over to the relatively uninjured side that he realized this one functioning black eye of Snape's was glaring daggers at him.
"I'll call Poppy," Remus said at once.
"No you shall not!" Snape said rising at once from his chair. He immediately swooned and Harry and Remus both instinctually stepped forward to steady him. Harry wasn't sure who was most surprised by their moves to aid Snape; Snape or Remus and Harry.
Remus urged Snape back into the chair and said, "Don't be daft, Snape. We can't heal that here and you obviously can't go into St. Mungo's like that. Poppy can be here in—"
"I said no!" Snape protested again. Harry wondered how on earth it was that Snape was able to even form words and speak coherently with his face the way it was. "Where's Dumbledore?" he demanded angrily.
"Said he'd be down shortly," Moody said. "Isn't there anything else we can get for you? Is what you needed in that book?"
"No. So what I need," Snape said testily as spit flew from his misshapen mouth, "is Dumbledore to make me a bloody Portkey!"
"You're sure—" Remus began uncertainly but stopped when Snape growled and glared at him with his one good eye.
Harry, whose mind had been flying through scenarios and possible reasons for Snape's injuries and appearance, now asked quietly, "Have you been found out as a spy? Were you let to leave or did you just escape?"
Snape's garishly lopsided mouth twitched at this and both Remus and Moody looked up at once for Snape's answer. He gave none.
"Have you?" Remus asked impatiently.
Snape stood abruptly and, favouring one leg, faced Remus as he asked, "Have you warned all of them? Did the message get through that no one who would be here now is safe? Have they been warned? They're all gathering together all convenient like for you!"
One by one. The formidable threat from Voldemort that, with the help of Wormtail, no member of the first war's Order was safe from becoming a target. Hestia Jones and her family had been the first example of the oath to punish any who would stand against Voldemort.
"Yes," Harry said as Remus hung his head. "The message was found. One by one."
Remus looked older than just a minute ago as he said, "Albus has been trying to decide when the best time to tell everyone would be."
"Now, you fool!" Snape snarled. "What do you think you're waiting for? Another attack?"
"Now there's a proper time for everything," Remus tried to explain. "But I don't think a Celebration is the best time to tell everyone that their name's on Voldemort's list."
Snape had flinched visibly at the name and Moody grunted as he said, "We'll be 'Celebrating' a whole lot more if we don't give due warning." It was obvious Moody felt differently than Remus.
Snape made a noise of agreement to this and Remus just shook his head. "Albus agrees and says there's a time for both vigilance and for mirth--"
"Daft fools!" Snape choked out as he began coughing; hacking coughs that wracked his body and forced Snape to grasp the back of his chair as he struggled to swallow back the fluid in his mouth. A small trickle of blood escaped from the limp side of his mouth and was quickly wiped away by the back of his already-filthy hand. Snape glared at Remus and Harry who were both watching him with unconcealed concern for his state.
"Go get Dumbledore," Harry said quietly and not taking his eyes off Snape. After a moment where no one moved and the only sounds was Snape's wheezing, Harry turned to Remus and repeated, "Get Dumbledore. I can't go--I'm not going up there to interrupt him and Ron."
Remus looked at him for a moment and then nodded and left the kitchen at once.
Moody stepped forward towards Snape then and asked, "You'll have the spell books you need in your rooms at Hogwarts?" Snape nodded as he bent over the back of the chair; his head bowed between his arms. "We could send someone to fetch--"
"No," Snape protested in a hoarse voice without even moving. It was obvious Snape wanted to be gone from Grimmauld Place at once. He seemed to believe he'd have all he needed to heal himself once he was able to return to his rooms at Hogwarts. When Harry had first heard Snape was injured and present here, he had wondered why Snape had came here at all. It was obvious now though, that Snape could not have Apparated to Hogsmeade and then walked all the way into the castle and down to the dungeons and risk being seen as he was without raising alarm; especially if, as Harry suspected for some reason, Snape was escaping from Voldemort and not merely returning with due leave.
Again, Harry asked, "Did Voldemort see you here that day?" Snape looked like he was simultaneously shuddering from the name and trying to pull together the strength to insult Harry. "Did he see you through my eyes?" Harry asked louder this time. Snape managed a one-eyed glare. "I take that as a yes," Harry said shortly. "Were you allowed to finally leave him tonight or did you have to escape?"
As Harry said the last few words, the door opened and Dumbledore, with Remus following strode quickly into the kitchen.
"Severus," Dumbledore said at once, "I was beginning to worry about you." Dumbledore calmly took in Snape's condition without expression and urged Snape to be seated again. "I think my concerns were not entirely unfounded," he said simply as he tentatively reached a hand out towards the battered side of Snape's face. Dumbledore's hand jerked back quickly before making contact and he clucked his tongue. "You have what is needed to end the curse, Severus?"
Snape nodded as he glared over at Harry, saying, "Yes, Headmaster and I'd like to return myself--" he coughed violently yet again, "--to health--" another few coughs, "--before being subjected to interrogations." The last word was said with as much sneer as he could muster while glaring at Harry.
"Very well, very well," Dumbledore said nodding as he picked up an empty mug from the side table. Dumbledore enchanted the mug, creating the Portkey without delay. He handed it to Snape who looked extremely relieved and grateful. "It will be a minute or two," Dumbledore said. "Tell me though, Severus--is there anything of immediate concern we should know about Lord Voldemort or his followers? We can wait until you are healed and rested for your complete report--just anything pressing is all I ask about now."
Weary and beaten, Snape looked up at Dumbledore as he clutched the mug that would transport him to his home. "The Dark Lord," Snape rasped, "suffered some sort of attack tonight." There was a certain detachment to these words that suggested perhaps even Snape himself didn't quite believe it. "He collapsed and it was a sufficient diversion for me to leave." No one could think of how to reply to this news and the opportunity vanished as a sucking sound accompanied the activating of the Portkey.
"What the hell did that just mean?" Harry asked as he stared at the chair just vacated by Snape.
Twin snorts came from both Moody and Remus. Remus muttered, "That's Severus, all right," while Moody just shook his head and growled, "Always likes to have the last word, doesn't he? Little drama queen..." and then trailed off shaking his head.
Harry turned to look to Dumbledore for some sort of answer; he half hoped to see Dumbledore be as annoyed as Harry was at Snape's vague and cryptic answers. But to Harry's dismay, Dumbledore was merely twinkling and nodding his head as if he'd just had something confirmed that he'd suspected all along.
"What?" Harry said loudly as his narrowed towards Dumbledore. Dumbledore, smiling and twinkling over the top of his glasses just hummed and laid a finger aside his nose. "Stop twinkling!" Harry said with exasperation as he threw his hands up in the air. Moody and Remus both snorted at this with shocked amusement and so Harry turned his glower on them. "He was right, you know. If no one's left yet, we ought to get everyone together and warn them about Voldemort's latest hit list. Celebration or not, I don't think I can justify waiting any longer." Harry looked challengingly between all three and saw Moody nod at once in agreement.
"Harry," Dumbledore said as he began what was obviously meant to be a long, exasperating string of wise advice that Harry just did not want to hear.
Harry spun and faced him with a grim expression. "First, I'm going to deal with the Weasleys. There is a bad trend with them tonight and I'm hacked off enough to take them all to task on it. No," Harry said firmly as Remus began to open his mouth. "I'm the one who needs to explain why things were the way they were. I'm the one who should remind them of their responsibilities and I need to clear some things up about me and why I did what I did. I'll speak with them. Next. And after that," Harry drew a deep breath, "we should—I—I don't know what to say, but everyone—they need to be warned. If it ruins the Celebration, so be it. It's more important people stay alive than enjoy themselves for a night."
Moody nodded in acknowledgement and said, "I think you're making the right decision." Moody's magical eye then whirled about and focused upon the ceiling. "I see the twins and the girl up there now skulking about. I'll go round up that lot for you now, shall I?"
Harry could just imagine Ginny telling the twins that Snape was here somewhere injured and then the lot of them sneaking around to try to listen in on whatever Snape had to report back on Voldemort. "Yes," Harry said firmly. "In the library please."
Moody left the kitchen and Harry then noticed that Remus looked exceedingly grim with his arms crossed. "What good would waiting do, Remus?" Harry asked peremptorily. "I heard what you said before."
"You don't understand, Harry. You and Moody...not every...Moody always thinks everyone's out to get him. You—you've known Voldemort's after you since, well...sadly, you're used to it. But for the others...Harry, it's a tremendous thing for even the members of the Order—other than you and Moody for whom it really changes nothing—to be told they're now on Voldemort's hit list. I don't think you realize how much this will affect everyone."
"And you think ignorance would be better?" Harry challenged.
Dumbledore spoke then, saying, "Harry, there're reasons either way, we admit. But you should be made aware that what Remus says is quite true. The news of the circumstances of the Joneses' deaths will shake many members and I think, while we do need to ensure everyone is on their guard, we also need to prevent panic without due cause."
Harry supposed this was true enough. There was a big difference between being an Order member and part of a systematic chain of information and support versus knowing Voldemort now knows your name and is planning to execute you and your entire family. And as he really didn't know what exactly should be said to communicate the increased danger everyone was in, he asked, "Well, what do you think we should say? I thought this was taken care of?" At Dumbledore's guilty look, Harry sighed and went on, "All I am saying now is that I think everyone needs to be alerted as soon as possible of the possible dangers they're bound to face. What do you suggest, Professor?"
Dumbledore twirled one side of his silver mustache with a long finger thoughtfully. "It was my wish to not ruin anyone's holiday," he said tiredly.
"Harry," Remus said softly as he reached out a hand to Harry's shoulder. "I'm just remembering how it was last time when we were all beginning to realize someone was giving away inside information. It was...damning...made you feel helpless."
"And who was it then?" Harry asked rhetorically. "Wormtail—the same one still giving away the same information he knew then." Of course he has new information now...like all about the Burrow and all the Weasleys... "Actually," Harry said, biting his lip, "maybe that's what we need to say—give a reminder that Wormtail—who everyone from the old Order knew personally—has surely given away anything and everything he knew about any of them."
After a moment, Remus said, "Well, it would allow everyone to draw their own conclusion then that they're in danger."
"Especially after we confirm that Hestia and her family were attacked by Death Eaters." Dumbledore looked to Remus and said, "Sturgis asked earlier if I had heard the rumor of their deaths. I think everyone would indeed expect to be told the truth on that. Perhaps I can start there; relate the truth that her family was killed in a Death Eater attack and then follow that with a reminder that through Peter, no one's identity as a member is safe."
"I think that's about the best way to do this," Remus said nodding. He checked his wristwatch then and said, "Tell you what, I'll head up and spread the word that no one should leave before we have a small gathering and announcement. You won't take too long with the Weasleys?" he asked Harry.
"As long as it takes," Harry said grimly. Harry watched Remus exit and then turned his narrowed gaze to Dumbledore. "Are you keeping things from me?"
The twinkle dimmed in Dumbledore's eyes and then flared to full effect. "Are you keeping things from me, Harry?" The twinkling blue eyes pulled at Harry's mind and he instinctively blocked any thoughts—especially those of anything he was keeping from Dumbledore—from coming forth, until he realized he couldn't think of anything which he was keeping from him and so he let the word, 'No,' flash forth through his eyes.
And then, as Dumbledore chuckled and beamed with pride, Harry realized that asking that very question was an extremely tricky way to use Legilimency on a person. It asked a very general question that immediately put a person on the spot and if one was keeping something from you, then a guilty feeling would be a very instinctive reaction and difficult to block. In fact, as Harry recalled having been asked over the years by Dumbledore the question of whether there was 'anything he'd like to tell', Harry now realized that Dumbledore had likely been reading the very list of thoughts that had run through in his mind before he'd answered, 'No, sir, none at all'.
"You lied," Harry said watching Dumbledore's blue eyes intently. "Your twinkle faltered for a---is that your projection? The twinkle?" Harry gasped. The damn twinkle that more than half the time made one feel like it meant Dumbledore knew some amusing secret! The twinkle that made you often wonder twice what it was the old man might have found out and that--well, that of course only meant you'd go through this list of things you hoped he didn't know and— "That's the most brilliantly manipulative thing I think I've ever heard," Harry said blithely. While Dumbledore would twinkle away, he was very sneakily prompting people to run through all the very things they perhaps least wanted the man to know, all while looking into those twinkly blue eyes that were seeing each and every little thought and image.
Who else had ever given Harry the feeling they knew things like that? Snape. Harry laughed shortly now. "Snape—his glare..." That fathomless black depth drew you in and Harry—Harry had always tried to stubbornly stare right back—and played right into his hands. Harry recalled a time in fourth year when Snape had threatened to use Veritaserum on him and been trying to find proof that Harry had stolen ingredients from his office in the past.
"That's it, isn't it?" he asked Dumbledore now. "That's the secret to projection." Voldemort...he has those demonic red eyes that simply because they're red make you stare. Maybe they're not even red at all but just his projection? "You, Snape, Voldemort—each of you have a certain look you give to your eyes that makes a person want to stare into them..." he trailed off in thought. Imagine yourself successful and let that image of yourself guard your shield, Dumbledore had advised Harry once. Snape and Dumbledore both had the tendency of making you feel like they believed they already knew something—that was the key—that was them imagining themselves as successful in penetrating someone else's mind and that was what they used to project forth and conceal their own mind's shield.
Dumbledore was beaming now at Harry and almost rocking back and forth on his heals. "I think you're on track now, Harry," he said brightly. "Forgive me for not trying to simply explain it to you, but I know that when I taught Severus, it was such an intangible concept that he could not grasp it until he came upon the realization of its use himself. I had faith you'd come across it quickly and you have, you have indeed!"
Harry shook his head; glad to have come across this understanding of a key concept in mastering the art of Occlumency as well as the first major step in becoming a mastered Legilimens. "Speaking of Snape," he said slowly and looking closely at Dumbledore. "I asked you if you were keeping things from me—you seemed very pleased at what he said before he conveniently disappeared. What do you know about it? What happened to Voldemort tonight? Is that what you know?"
"Can't you guess?" Dumbledore asked looking genuinely surprised. "I do admit to being pleasantly surprised at your ability to suffer upon Lord Voldemort any sort of attack while it seems he was conscious, at least that is what I presume from Severus's brief words."
"Me? I...I caused him to have an attack?" Harry asked.
"Of course!" Dumbledore said. "You felt a tremendous burst of amplified love this evening when you cast the spell to light the Life Light. Opposing emotional forces!" His smile dropped and Dumbledore peered over the rim of his silver glasses. "Was not the true inspiration for your insight into the Patronus Charm's prerequisite emotion the knowledge about the nature of your scar connection with Voldemort? Your insight and theory of opposing emotions actually clarified your scar connection—I never did get a chance to tell you how truly elegantly simplistic the theory is—which only lends it all the more weight." At Harry's blank look, Dumbledore looked surprised and shook his head. "I thought for sure that had been your inspiration for the idea and theory. I put them together at once and asked myself how I could have missed what seemed so obvious." He winked as he added, "Although I was on the right track."
"Back up," Harry said raising a hand up. "What does the Patronus Charm have to do with my scar connection to Voldemort?"
"Opposing emotional forces," Dumbledore said again to quote part of the essay Harry had written not long ago. "While the Patronus Charm is a manifestation of the emotion hope and is then effective against a Dementor which elicits the opposite emotion despair, so is the diametric connection shared between yourself and Voldemort. Love and—"
"—hate," Harry said. Distractedly he stared off towards the long, worn wooden table of the kitchen. "Hate is the emotion behind the Killing Curse, isn't it," he said as more of a statement than a question.
"I do believe so," Dumbledore said watching him closely.
A whole hoard of new possibilities, questions and thoughts grew from this understanding—but he didn't have time for all that now. Harry snapped out of his thoughts and suddenly felt they'd already spent quite enough time down in the basement. "I should go speak to the Weasleys. They're probably all waiting for me by now."
Before Harry could leave though, Dumbledore said, "Harry, do try to understand Ronald—he's just yearning to feel included." Harry didn't meet his eyes and just nodded once before turning to leave.
*
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*
Harry had already begun composing his castigation of the Weasleys as he walked up to the second floor library; his original sense of anger at the whole thing now being replaced by a wearied calm. He paused as he saw Bill outside the door with Fleur who was looking rather distressed.
"Harry," Bill said as soon as he spotted him. "Moody said you wanted to see all of us but Fleur wanted—"
"I'll address everyone at once," Harry said curtly, nodding for them both to go on in. Bill nodded and Harry ignored the repentant look Fleur was trying to send his way. Moody opened the door for them at once and let Fleur and Bill enter as he saw Harry. "Got everyone?" he asked and Moody nodded. "Thanks then—I got it from here." Moody left with a nod and a grunt.
"What's up, Harry?" one of the twins asked brightly as he stood up from where he'd been leaning back against the desk.
"Sit," Harry said tersely as he surveyed the rest of the room. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were each seated at the small round table off to the side along with Charlie. Bill and Fleur had taken a seat on the fireplace hearth beside Ginny. And Ron, seated in one of the armchairs across the room by the other twin, sighed loudly and crossed his arms irritably while pointedly looking off into space.
"Tonight has been an unmitigated disaster as far as keeping secrets," Harry began plainly as he walked over to beside the desk and looked from the twins, to Ginny, to Charlie and to Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. "I think I need to remind all of you that each and every piece of knowledge you have about the Order—secret Order I might remind you—is meant to be a SECRET. Key word? Secret!" Harry's voice had risen and Mrs. Weasley was stirring with unconcealed disapproval and concern.
"Harry," she began indulgently.
But Harry closed his eyes and went on to say, "That includes everything from the fact that there is an Order, who is in the Order and especially to details of any work any one of you has taken part in. ALL OF IT—secrecy is not optional!" At these last words, Harry's fists had clenched and his eyes had snapped open, burning brightly as they looked from one properly ashamed twin to the other. Bill had his arm around Fleur, the only one besides Harry in the room who was not a Weasley. Fleur looked incredibly sad and contrite. She sniffed and then bravely rose from her seat on the stone hearth as she said, "'Arry, I am most sorry for my failure--"
"I'm not blaming you, Fleur," Harry said in a tired voice. "Believe me, I think you had every right to believe that me being a member of the Order was common knowledge to all those here. It now is and if it wasn't for a specific request to keep that truth from both Ron and Ginny," Harry looked directly at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, "then it would have been an accurate assumption."
Harry leaned back against a wall of shelves, one arm crossed in front of his chest and the other cradling the side of his head. He heard both of the twins shift over where they now sat and he looked to them. "Fred and George—you two let something huge slip—not just slip but you just out and out talked about it like other people knew about it! And mind you, while it is indeed a huge secret of the Order, it is more importantly, and most disappointingly, a huge secret to me." He cut them off with a wave of his hand. "I know, I know and the part that it was about me was why you thought Ron would know. But he wasn't the only one there, was he? Neville and Luna were both there—neither members of the Order."
The twins both hung their heads and Harry heard Mrs. Weasley whispering to ask her husband and Charlie what the twins had done now.
"Charlie," Harry said loudly as he turned now to face the small table. "You let slip something that gave away half of everything Voldemort's" —nearly everyone shivered except for Fleur who was huddled against Bill— "been after since June! Believe it or not—I didn't know the details of it but I've put it all together now! Don't look so surprised," Harry said at Charlie's shocked look. Harry pointed ruefully to his scar and said, "I've got a direct connect to Voldemort and am more vulnerable than anyone to having my mind picked clean if I fell into the wrong hands. I only know what I need to know and have been working since summer to learn to protect my mind. Which also means you shouldn't be sharing the information you know with just anyone as idle conversation—if anyone was ever captured...I think it's a good guess that you'd get any information you could provide wrung out of you. The less anyone and everyone knows, the less they can give away."
Harry paced in a small circle for a moment as he rubbed his temple. He could again hear Mrs. Weasley whispering, this time to Charlie and likely demanding to know what it was he'd let slip. "You know, I think part of the problem here is that, as a family, you all have a great deal of proximity to each other and information and it makes everything you know and deal with seem more casual than it is. Ginny—" Harry looked to her seated on the hearth stone, "you gave away some vital information tonight—"
"What?" she said indignantly in a shrill voice.
Harry quelled her with a look as he further explained. "But as you're not a member of the Order, you're not necessarily entrusted with keeping its secrets. But, as you do know enough to give some info away," he looked back to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley again now, "you ought to be informed of what changes to the Order might affect what you know." Ginny was looking thunderous at being implicated for any wrongdoing and Harry explained to her before she could protest, "You let slip to Luna and Neville that Snape is involved with the Order—his involvement is not general knowledge to the Order anymore and it most especially should not have spread around about his arrival here tonight." Ginny pursed her lips and coolly looked off to the side.
"Mrs. Weasley," Harry said turning now to face her.
She had been glaring off at Ginny reprovingly and now snapped her eyes up to meet Harry's as she said, "Oh I quite agree! Believe me, I think you're quite right to bring all this up Harry and I've never been so ashamed of all my children!" Mr. Weasley was patting her arm in an effort to quiet her.
Harry bit the corner of his lip and blinked; this wasn't going to be easy. "Mrs. Weasley," he started again delicately, "I don't think you've concealed your belief that children should be kept in the dark as much as possible," her jaw snapped shut audibly here, "but while some secrets need to be kept, some can end up being quite dangerous."
Charlie laughed here and asked, "Either they're secrets or they're not! What kinds of secrets can be dangerous?"
"The kind about other secrets that prevent people from knowing enough to avoid certain things. Like about the prophecy last year and all the bloody secrets the Order tried to keep from me! We wouldn't be here tonight if I'd at least been told there was a prophecy and about the Department of Mysteries! Sirius died because of that misguidedly kept secret!"
"Harry," Mrs. Weasley began.
He turned to her now, anger flaring as he said, "No, I know you never really liked Sirius and you certainly took every chance to tell him what a poor godfather he was but that doesn't mean he should have had to ever be lured out to save my arse when I got lured out! It all never should have been kept from me!"
"I never said..." she began weakly, taken aback at his emotional outburst.
"You always tried to keep me away from him! You blamed him for getting sent to Azkaban and not being there for me! DON'T YOU THINK HE WOULD'VE IF HE COULD?!" Harry's eyes were shut tight in some effort to regain control. The memory of Sirius hurriedly slipping him the poorly wrapped package containing the mirror while trying to hide it from Mrs. Weasley because he said she wouldn't 'approve' flashed into his mind. Why wouldn't she have wanted me to be able to safely contact Sirius, Harry wondered bitterly.
A hand settled on Harry's shoulder as Mr. Weasley, who'd risen and walked over as Harry had been calming himself, said gently, "Harry."
Harry drew in a sharp breath and said, "Professor Dumbledore learned from that. He doesn't keep things from me anymore and if he does, he tells me the reason why." Harry met Mr. Weasley's concerned gaze as he said, "And I think you and Mrs. Weasley need to learn the same lesson."
"We're not keeping anything from you!" Mrs. Weasley said wildly from where she'd stood up and was currently being held onto by Charlie.
"No but you kept things from Ron! And Ginny! And you've made me feel trapped between keeping my promise to you to not tell them anything and having to lie to one of my best friends!"
"What haven't we been told?" Ginny asked angrily looking around the room.
"That Hermione and I are both in the Order and have been since summer!" Harry said at once. "Which—"
"Harry..."
"—you already knew. And not only that, but me, well," Harry laughed humourlessly, "I've been named the next Leader! Beside Dumbledore, I know more of what's going on than anyone!" Harry didn't look over to see Ron's expression; Ginny's look of surprise was enough.
"I don't think this is the best time," Mrs. Weasley began to say, frowning.
"No! The best time has long passed!" Harry shouted back at her. "I'm sick of keeping secrets like this! I've got enough secrets that really do need to be kept than to worry about someone's hurt feelings at being left out!" Harry snarled this last part in Ron's direction but still didn't look directly at him.
Mr. Weasley, still standing beside Harry, now reached out to squeeze his shoulder again as he said, "Harry, I know Ron was wrong to blow up—"
"I'm not upset at Ron right now, I'm furious that I was put in the middle between him and Mrs. Weasley! I'm furious that if she was so intent on keeping everything from him that neither of you went to the trouble to warn everyone else in this room to keep quiet! Fleur had every right to expect anyone here tonight would know I'm in the Order! Did you tell her you wanted that kept a secret? NO! And now she feels like rubbish for causing a blow out. And you!" Harry said now turning to Ron finally. "Get over it! So you're not in the Order—big deal! No one would have to bother to keep things from you if you weren't sure to go off like a top! If you don't grow up and get over it, you can forget about ever joining—and believe me--you will need to get through me first!"
As Harry had began to yell at Ron, Ron's face had paled so much his freckles stood out in sharp contrast, but now, as Harry threatened him with never being in the Order, Ron's face flooded scarlet.
"Harry," Mr. Weasley was trying to calm him down again.
"All the problems tonight began with people here in this room and they'll end here." Harry gave a cold look to Mrs. Weasley whose lower lip was trembling as Charlie kept one arm wrapped around her. "I'm not keeping anyone else's secrets from now on and I'll tell whomever I need to about whatever I need to." Harry shrugged off the hand on his shoulder and strode across the room to the door. He stopped and turned back to say, "Carelessness can be just as deadly as a traitor and there's no excuse for it. You," he pointed at Charlie, "and you," he pointed at Ginny, "are not allowed to answer any little questions here about what it was you let slip. You did enough damage as it was. You two," he pointed at the twins who seemed to want to disappear into the woodwork, "I don't care if you tell both Ron and Ginny what everyone else in here knows about the prophecy. That's all any of you will know if I have anything to say about it—which I do! I don't want to hear it though. And don't come to me with questions. Straighten yourselves out."
Harry was out of the room, the door slamming behind him, before anyone could speak another word. He seemed to feel just a bit freer.
"Oh! Hello," said a startled Mr. Granger who was just exiting from his bedroom. "Going back up? I'll walk with you."
Harry, quite numb from his outburst with the Weasleys, nodded and was grateful that he wouldn't have to linger around and wait for the Weasleys to wander out from the library. He didn't even want to contemplate what was being said from one Weasley to another in that room right now.
"So," said Mr. Granger jovially and with a bit of a laugh. "You wouldn't believe how many people gathered here tonight have made some comment or another about how pleased my wife and I must be that our daughter has such a fine young man in you for her boyfriend." He laughed again and Harry now recognized it as the self-deprecating sort. "More than one person here tonight has said they would be delighted to have someone with your honour dating their daughter."
"Well, they might just say that because I'm famous, sir."
He laughed again, this time wholeheartedly as they climbed the second floor staircase. "More than one said you were known as quite modest, too!"
Mr. Granger was being friendly towards him. Who would have guessed? "So, er, this mean you don't want to interrogate me any more?" Harry asked dryly.
"Mm, perhaps later," Mr. Granger said with a grim look that lasted only a few moments before giving way to a kinder smile. "But it's certainly reassuring to meet so many people who obviously think quite highly of you. Begins to make up for the fact that we barely know you, much less our daughter these days—and there she is!"
Hermione was just standing in the open door way leading into the hall as Harry and her father came up. She looked to Harry like she had been worrying for quite some time.
"Moody said you were speaking with all the Weasleys. Did it go all right?" she asked immediately.
Harry vacillated and ended up shrugging. "I said what I wanted to say and what needed to be said. I didn't hang around to see how they took it."
Hermione gave Harry a calculating look and then turned to her father. "Did you want to have that dance now, Dad?"
Mr. Granger beamed at his daughter, turned to Harry and said, "If you'll be so kind as to excuse us?" He gave her a gentlemanly bow and then gracefully took her hand and led her out to the dance floor of the hall.
Well, that's a relief to know there's one less person Hermione and I will be at odds with.
Harry caught Remus' eye then as he walked further into the hall and nodded once. Remus was seated off to the side beside Neville who looked almost ill. Nearly all the guests who'd remained up here while Snape had come and gone and while Harry had blown off steam towards the Weasleys were still enjoying themselves and celebrating merrily. Harry half hoped they would still be merry after the warning they were about to receive; the other half of him hoped that they'd sober immediately and appreciate the danger they might face.
"Welcome back, Harry," Luna said with a nod. Harry did a double take then and saw she'd sprouted antlers. When she saw him looking at her head, she said, "Oh, like it? I think it makes me look elegant."
Harry only managed to keep a straight face because he was still quite numb from earlier. Only Luna would think a rack like that—oh, no—I won't even think it!
Harry then looked over at Neville, if for no other reason than to avoid looking at Luna's, er, rack. "I can't believe Snape's a good guy," Neville said dully as if the entire foundation of his world had been shaken and he no longer knew which way was up and which way was down. "I always thought he was...such an arse!"
Both Remus and Harry chorused, "Oh, he is!" and then laughed.
Remus looked to Harry and shrugged as he pointed a finger at Neville. "Both Hermione and I have done our best to explain Snape. Neville doesn't still quite believe it."
"That's 'cuz there is no explanation for Snape," Harry said as if it were common knowledge.
Fred and George were then seen walking into the hall and they quickly scanned around for Harry. "I should go stand off alone somewhere so none of them inadvertently wander back and tell me off in front of everyone and spill more secrets."
Remus just gave him a questioning look that Harry ignored. Okay, so maybe he didn't quite expect all the Weasleys to be livid with him but, well, certainly a few choice ones were more than likely not pleased with him at the moment.
Fred was the first one to speak while George vigilantly scanned around to make sure no one was near them to overhear. "We're as sorry as can be, Harry," he said.
"Truly."
"So are Fleur and Charlie."
"And Ginny, too. But she's actually blaming Mum for her bit." George shrugged as if this were to be expected.
"Is there anything we can do?" Fred asked.
Harry just shook his head. "No. Just make sure you hang out here until Dumbledore has a chance to address everyone. Oh, mates? I am really sorry about--" Harry waved a hand, "—you know. Before. I don't want you to feel sorry, I want you all to be more careful."
It was a very odd thing, Harry decided, to see both twins without any mischievous sparkle in their eyes at all and looking completely somber. He knew they had meant no harm he couldn't help but feel forgiving towards them. "Check out Luna's rack," he said with a jerk of his head towards her table. The twins instantly relaxed into smiles and beamed back at Harry after spotting their handy work atop Luna's head.
Bill and Fleur were the next two to return from the library and they also sought out Harry as soon as they saw him. Harry went through the same thing as he did with Fred and George and when Fleur tried to apologize yet again, Harry just assured them it wasn't an apology he wanted; he just wanted them to be more vigilant.
Ginny and Charlie followed not long after that and after apologizing, both assured Harry that they resisted all attempts by their mother to determine what it was they had each done to breech secrecy (much to her dismay). Ron, Ginny had said, was trying to convince his mum and dad that he just wanted to go home now. Which didn't surprise Harry too much but it did worry him that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley might slip off before Dumbledore addressed everyone. But as soon as Harry looked about for Moody to go check on who was left in the library, Moody was there, ushering Ron and his parents into the hall. A moment later, Dumbledore, seeing everyone present, called the gathering to attention and gave his due warning.
Harry could see Hermione whispering to her parents something as Dumbledore began to speak and both Mr. and Mrs. Granger respectfully slipped out a side door. Hermione then made her way over to Harry, who had remained leaning against a wall behind the chamber orchestra, and slipped an arm around his waist in silent support.
It occurred to Harry as he listened to Dumbledore remind everyone to be aware of the threat they endured, that this really was a better way than just ominously announcing the note left at the Jones residence after their murders. Everyone did indeed seem sobered by the reminder and warnings given but no one seemed to be in any sort of panic. The biggest reaction came from Charlie and the twins when Dumbledore reminded the Weasleys specifically that, as Peter had lived as a rat in their home for many long years, they were also significantly at threat. Charlie here let out a string of colourful language that detailed the payment he would like to visit upon Percy for 'bringing in the only rat bigger than himself'. The twins wholeheartedly agreed and were well on their way to designing a new wheeze that would turn the victim into a rat. (They'd already volunteered Percy as their unwitting test subject.)
With the announcement, the celebratory mood was broken and several people broke off into smaller groups for discussions and others began to leave. As the protections on Grimmauld Place did not prevent anyone from Disapparating from the house, leaving was a much easier event then arriving.
"Albus is making Portkeys for both of you and the Weasleys to return home," Remus announced as he approached a table where Neville, Luna, Hermione and Harry had all been seated. Neville was still quite off balance from the revelation that Snape was involved in the same Order that his parents had served in. It was clearly too much to take in and Harry was quite sympathetic; he still had his doubts about Snape every other waking minute.
"Neville?" Remus said trying to get his attention again. "I will accompany you home on your portkey and Luna, Arthur Weasley said he'd go with you."
A voice cleared then behind Harry and he turned to see Ron standing there, looking quite uncomfortable. Harry noted that Hermione, who stood immediately to his left, was not being acknowledged at all by Ron. "Yes? Ron?" Harry prompted when Ron hadn't done anything but glower.
Ron turned and, making an obvious show, sauntered over to a corner away from everyone else. He then crossed his arms and looked pointedly at Harry. Harry just looked at him like he was barmy.
"I think he wants to talk to you over there," Hermione said airily as she turned away from Ron and struck up a conversation with Luna.
"Has he apologized to you?" Harry asked her, interrupting what he obviously saw as a forced inquiry about the Purple-Toed Dingleship Luna had been prattling on about earlier.
"No," Hermione replied coolly and then returned to Luna.
Harry plucked up all the resolve, self-control and maturity he could find and made his way over towards Ron. This had better be an apology he's about to say. And there'd better be one Hermione coming soon, too, he thought resolutely.
"Yes?" Harry demanded as he stopped a fair distance away from Ron.
Ron's eyes narrowed and he asked, "Was that supposed to be an apology? Earlier?" At Harry's confounded look, Ron sighed exasperatedly and said, "In the library before with everyone? Was that your apology to me?"
Something about Ron's expectant and self-righteous tone—not to mention the fact that Ron thought Harry was the one who needed to apologize—made Harry briefly entertain the thought of slugging the prat once again. Fortunately though for Ron, the pain that the first hit had caused was still fresh in Harry's memory. "No," Harry said icily. "It may serve as an explanation to you if you're so open to accept one but I don't owe you any apology."
Ron's face was flushing from pink to red and Harry knew it was anger and not embarrassment causing this reaction. In fact, Harry was ready to dodge any blow Ron might try to land. But Ron, almost visibly shaking now, did seem to actually be attempting—and succeeding—in controlling himself for the moment.
So many thoughts had blossomed and flitted through Harry's mind in these few moments. How could Ron be stuck on blowing such petty little things so much out of proportion when they were at war? Ron almost reminded Harry of Draco Malfoy and how that little varmint always seemed to believe he was the main focus of Harry's every move and conversation. Had they no perspective? How could Ron not value more than five years of friendship enough to see the important things?
Harry knew what Ron and Ron's friendship meant to him. Ron represented that last vestige of childhood; a rotten and short-lived childhood but still, that was perhaps what made it all the more precious to Harry now. Ron was the best friend to Harry—not Harry Potter, not some child of a prophecy, and not, Harry now realized, to Harry the next chosen Lead Light of the Order. And that certainly now seemed to be a large glaring problem. Maybe Ron really was the friend of all these various aspects of Harry's life. Maybe it was Harry who wasn't being reasonable. Maybe Ron felt there was supposed to be more to being Harry's friend than just hanging around and playing chess or talking about quidditch. Could that be true?
"Why are you even friends with me?" Harry asked tonelessly. Ron looked, well, clueless. "Honestly—I don't even know!" Harry said. "I know why I value you as my friend but why me?" Ron snorted as if he thought these were ridiculous questions and while Harry did agree, he still couldn't find an answer to them. "Why?"
"Why are you friends with Hermione?" Ron snapped.
Harry blinked twice before the answer just spilled out. "She makes me a better person. I want to be a better person because of her." The sincerity of the words coming out of his mouth amazed even Harry. "She helps me be who I need to be."
"And I don't?" Ron said with a cool smile.
Harry snapped out of his marvelling at his regard for Hermione and shook his head. "No, no, that's not what I mean."
"Uh-huh," Ron said nodding. "Sure."
"You're different!"
"I'm not Hermione?"
"Oh, of course you're not Hermione!"
"And I don't help you to be who you need to be," Ron said snidely. "I see."
"Don't you get it?" Harry said getting fed up with this. Ron wasn't understanding what he was trying to say. He kept twisting everything Harry said. "You help me get to be who I just wish I could be!"
Ron gave Harry a dubious look and swallowed audibly before he said, "You mean like plain old boring Harry?"
"Yes!" He was finally getting this and Harry finally felt they were getting somewhere.
"Ah, I see. Well, plain old Ron Weasley says piss off!" and then Ron spun and began to stalk away.
"This isn't my fault you know!" Harry shouted wildly at his retreating form, as everything suddenly seemed all turned around and put on him. How did this get all cocked up? "You still owe Hermione an apology!" he bellowed as Ron's dress robes--the bloody effing robes I got the twins to buy for the pigheaded prat!--billowed out behind him as he stalked out of the hall and never looked back. "Oh, blow me."
Mrs. Weasley never did get a chance to get to Harry before their Portkey was set to leave but Mr. Weasley had sent numerous apologetic glances Harry's way. It was with a great feeling of relief that Harry finally saw the last guests, Dumbledore and Fawkes, depart. Tonks had long ago taken her mother, who had been one of the only guests whose mood hadn't diminished after Dumbledore's announcement, down to their rooms. The Grangers had both long retired to their room. Remus had left to turn in about the same time that Dumbledore wished then all good night and disappeared in a whirl of flame after grabbing a hold of Fawkes tail feathers.
"We're the only ones left," said Hermione's voice from across the hall. Harry turned and saw her waving her wand to put out the fires still burning in the two fireplaces. "Feels more like it's been six days instead of six hours, doesn't it?" She waved her wand towards each of the lamps upon the wall; putting each one out in turn.
"Yes," Harry said vaguely as he stared, mesmerized, at how the diaphanous sleeves of her dress robes made her bare arms beneath take on an ethereal glow in the darkening room. She put out the last gas lamp and a barely incandescent golden glow still softly illuminated the room. He looked up and saw a few scores of remaining golden pinpricks of light still hovering about the ceiling.
"Almost looks magical, doesn't it?" Hermione said from right in front of him. Harry looked down from the golden-starred ceiling and felt himself pulled into an embrace; Hermione's eyes sparkling with their own golden points of magically entrancing light.
"It's been a long day," he said as her hands settled on the small of his back.
"Are you tired?" she asked lightly.
"Exhausted."
"You want to go to sleep?" Her voice was barely a whisper now and Harry could feel the warmth from her breath caressing his lips.
"Not yet," he said in a barely audible whisper.
"You want to go to bed?" she asked as her lips ghosted over his cheek to his ear.
His hands, delighting in the feel of the fabric of her robes, slid up her back until one hand ran up and into her hair, cupping the back of her neck while the other hand he slipped forward to cup the side of her face. He cradled her face until her forehead rested against his and they were caught upon each other's gaze. "Yes," he breathed out, letting his words fall upon her lips.
*****
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Note: A smutty interlude between Chapter 46 and Chapter 47 is forthcoming and will be found on my Yahoo group. See my bio profile for the link to the group. Cheers!