Harry, Ron, and Hermione gathered their things quickly and quietly as they were all deep in thought about their precarious situation. Harry desperately did not want to go back to headquarters, but he also knew everyone would be safer there. They dragged their trunks and animal cages downstairs and sat quietly in the living room. It was quite like the scene earlier that morning. The adults ran about the house in a rush trying to get things situated. Owls delivered letters nonstop, no doubt from the Ministry or other Order members.
"I wish you could have gotten to see the twins' shop," Ron said, finally breaking the silence.
"That's not the most important thing on our minds right now, Ron," Hermione snapped, standing up quickly and striding over to the open window.
She played with the worn curtains as Crookshanks purred loudly and became tangled in her feet.
"Don't snap my head off, Hermione," Ron said through clenched teeth. "I was just trying to break the silence. It was killing me."
Hermione turned and sighed, looking straight at Ron.
"I'm sorry," she said. "You're right. It was killing me, too. I'm just really high strung at the moment."
Ron's eyes bugged out as he realized he had won a fight against Hermione. That rarely happened. Hermione walked over to the couch and sat beside Ron. She put her face in her hands and began to cry. Harry and Ron looked at each other. Neither of them had ever been in this situation before. Hermione rarely fell apart. She was usually a rock.
"What's wrong, Herm?" Ron asked, putting an arm around her shoulders.
"I'm just so worried," she said and hiccuped loudly.
"About the Deatheaters," Harry said.
"Yes," she said, drying her eyes. "I'm afraid they will come for me because of my parents. Some of those Death Eaters' sole reason for living is to torment wizards of Muggle parentage. I'm not trying to be selfish, but I can't help but worry that they will come after me or my parents. Draco hates me. He could get his father to send people after me."
"Herm, we won't let anything happen to you," Ron said, still with his arm around her.
"You will always be safe with us," Harry said standing and walking to the window. "I won't be making any of the same mistakes that I made last year. I promise."
"Oh, I know, Harry," Hermione said, looking up at him. "You were only concerned for Sirius. I think I would act exactly the way you did if my family were in trouble."
Harry smiled a strained smile at her and looked at Mrs. Weasley's clock. How many times this year would those hands point at mortal peril? Harry heard Ron and Hermione whispering to each other, and Ron still had his arm around her. They looked so happy sitting there together, and Harry was glad that maybe they were realizing what everyone else had seen for years. Everyone knew they belonged together. Harry quietly walked into the kitchen.
"Mrs. Weasley, is there anything I can do?" Harry asked.
"Oh, no, dear," she said, looking flustered as she jotted something down on a piece of parchment. "Mr. Weasley just went to fetch us a Portkey. We need it quickly, so it will be unauthorized. Mind that you don't tell many people that, dear."
"Oh, no, ma'am," Harry replied.
Suddenly there was a crack, and Mr. Weasley apparated into the kitchen.
"I've got the Portkey, Molly," he said, holding up an extremely dirty hubcap. Harry didn't really relish putting his hand on that. Mr. Weasley tapped the grimy hubcap with his wand and said, "Portus!"
The hubcap shook slightly and glowed blue for a few seconds. "This train leaves in ten minutes," Mr. Weasley said.
"Will you go fetch Ron and Hermione, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked him. "I'll go get Ginny."
Harry returned to the living room and found Ron and Hermione deep in conversation.
"Your mum says we're ready to leave," Harry said, hating to interrupt them.
They got up, and Harry reached for his trunk by the window and froze. There was a single piece of parchment on the top of it. It read in very neat handwriting:
The Green Flame Torch is the only way.
"Who put this here?" Harry asked, swinging around to face his friends.
They both read it and shrugged.
"Nobody came in here, Harry," Hermione said. "Not even an owl."
With these words on the parchment, Harry suddenly remembered vividly the dream he had had on his birthday. He saw the Green Flame Torch in the Forbidden Forest and the two girls. The two girls were the only things he couldn't see clearly. Their faces seemed fuzzy in his memory. He stared at his friends with the mysterious slip of parchment still gripped tightly in his hand.
"What is the Green Flame Torch?" Hermione asked.
"I don't have a clue," Harry said, scratching his head. "But I have heard the name before."
He preceded to tell his friends of his dream.
"And you can't remember who the two girls were," Ron said after Harry had finished.
"No, only their conversation, and only snatches of that," Harry said, frustrated with his lack of information. "One girl was going to lie to Dumbledore about the torch because she supported Voldemort."
"Don't say his name!" Ron hissed.
Harry ignored him and kept thinking. Who had sent it? An extremely large group of Death Eaters had just escaped. Could it have been one of them? Harry's head was a jumble of different feelings, but he couldn't help but feel as if this piece of parchment wasn't from Lord Voldemort. He couldn't shake this intuition that whoever wrote this was trying to help him. Yet, he couldn't let his guard down. Voldemort could easily be baiting him.
Mrs. Weasley called for them in the kitchen, and Harry was torn away from his dilemma. Harry stuffed the parchment into his jeans' pocket and walked after Ron and Hermione.
They all arrived at Grimmauld Place and stood to the left of number eleven.
"Everyone, think of headquarters," Mr. Weasley said in a whisper.
Harry didn't really want to, but he thought of the drab, depressing house that was headquarters. A clean, neat little house slowly became apparent in between number eleven and number thirteen Grimmauld Place. Harry could have sworn when he had arrived here last year the house had been filthy on the outside as well as in.
"Come on, Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, ushering him in the front door.
The first thing Harry thought as he stepped over the threshold was that he was back at the Burrow. The house was clean, airy, and bright. All of the Dark items had been removed and replaced with flowers and smiling pictures of wizards, sort of like Hogwarts. They waved to Harry as he looked around. Harry smiled at the sight of it. He figured he would be quite depressed staying here, but it might not be so bad. He would still be painfully reminded of Sirius, but he knew Sirius would have liked the changes.
"I like it," Harry said.
"You still have to keep your voice down, Harry," Mr. Weasley said. "That damned picture still won't come down."
A thought suddenly occurred to Harry.
"Kreacher isn't here, is he?" he asked, slightly hoping he might be so he could add the fiendish house-elf's head to Mrs. Black's old collection.
"No," Mr. Weasley said. "Once Sirius died, he went to work for the Malfoy's. Narcissa is the only Black left that he will obey."
Harry nodded, a little disappointed he hadn't gotten to kill the little, lying rat. Him, Ron, and Hermione took their trunks upstairs to the rooms they had occupied last time.
"They've done a lot with this place," Harry said as they all sat down in his and Ron's room.
"Yeah, mum's been slaving over it since Christmas," Ginny said, flipping through her new Witch Weekly, which cover read "Weird Sisters Split!"
"Oh, they split up!" Hermione said, spotting the headline. "I had so much fun dancing to them at the Yule Ball."
"No, you just liked dancing with Krum," Ron said, narrowing his eyes.
"Well, if you wouldn't have asked me as a last resort, maybe I would have been dancing with you," Hermione shot back, but she was smiling.
Ron blushed, but smiled back at her. Ginny glanced at Harry from across the room. Harry could tell she was surprised that hadn't exploded into one of their notorious screaming matches. Harry mouthed the word later at her, and Ginny grinned and hid her face with her magazine. Harry really didn't want to talk about if Ron and Hermione were together or not. He wanted to discuss his dream.
"So what do you think about this torch dream?" he asked his friends.
"What torch dream?" Ginny asked, looking quite confused.
Harry quickly filled her in on the dream and the mysterious slip of parchment.
"So you guys didn't see anyone come into the living room," Ginny asked Ron and Hermione.
"No," Hermione replied. "We were deep in conversation, but we would have noticed something."
"I've never heard anything on a Green Flame Torch," Ron said.
"It's not even mentioned in Hogwarts, A History," Hermione said.
"I think you should talk to Dumbledore," Ginny said seriously.
"I think you're right," Harry said. "I have to talk to him anyway."
"About what?" a sly voice suddenly spoke up.
Everyone jumped and looked at the seemingly empty painting on the wall. Phineas Nigellus, an intelligent-looking wizard with a pointed beard was standing in the ornate frame. He was one of the many paintings that hung in Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts of previous headmasters. Many of those paintings could travel to and from other paintings around the wizarding world and gather information for the current headmaster. Phineas happened to be at Grimmauld Place because he was Sirius' great-great grandfather.
"Well, speak up, someone," Phineas said. "What did you want to talk to him about? You might as well tell me because you know I'll find out being hung in his office and all."
"Just about some stuff that happened last year," Harry muttered.
"About the little temper tantrum you threw in his office," Phineas said.
"What is he talking about, Harry?" Ron asked.
"Nothing," Harry said. "Phineas, go away."
"Oh, you haven't told your-,"
"SHUT-UP!" Harry yelled.
He didn't want his friends finding out about the prophecy this way.
"Well," Phineas said, looking quite insulted. "I guess I'll go and have a chat with Dumbledore then, since you seem to be on the verge of another meltdown."
"Yeah, go back to his office," Harry said, extremely glad he was leaving.
"Oh, no. I'll be right downstairs. Albus mentioned he would be eating here for dinner tonight," Phineas said nonchalantly, straightening his robes.
Hearing this, they all looked at each other, jumped up, and ran from the room.
"And good day to you, too," Phineas said haughtily to the empty bedroom as he left the painting.
They ran downstairs, but stopped quickly when they reached the curtains that covered Mrs. Black's painting. Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen and spotted Harry and the others.
"Oh, Harry, Dumbledore is here and would like a word with you," she said.
Harry turned to his friends.
"I'll tell you everything later," Harry said and walked through the kitchen door.
Dumbledore sat at the head of the table talking quietly to Mr. Weasley. Dumbledore looked up as Harry entered and smiled. His half-moon glasses and long white beard gave him a look of a grandfather, but everyone knew that Albus Dumbledore was the greatest wizard of the time.
"We'll finish this later, then, Arthur," Dumbledore said to Mr. Weasley.
Mr. Weasley nodded and quickly left the room.
"Well, hello, Harry," Dumbledore said, motioning for Harry to have a seat next to him. "We have quite a few things to discuss, but first I would like to say congratulations on your O.W.L.s and making Quidditch Captain."
"Thank you, sir," Harry replied, sitting to Dumbledore's right. "I would like to say something first, sir."
"Of course, Harry, by all means," Dumbledore said.
"First, I want to apologize for my actions in your office. They were out of control, and, er, if you want, I will replace the items I broke."
"Harry, don't think on that for a second. Like I said then, I have too many trinkets. I should be thanking you for downsizing my rather overlarge collection."
"Okay, then," Harry muttered, not knowing how to bring up what he really wanted to talk about.
"What I wanted to discuss with you, Harry, is about your Occlumancy lessons," Dumbledore said.
Harry looked up sharply at his headmaster, but Dumbledore was moving on.
"With your unfortunate incident with Professor Snape last year, I'm afraid it would not be beneficial for you to take lessons with him any longer."
Harry scoffed at this as he thought Dumbledore had never spoken a truer word.
"I have found a new instructor," Dumbledore continued. "His name is Marlin McAllister, and he is a trained professor for Occlumency at the Institution for Higher Magical Learning in London. You will be taking lessons from him once a week starting in October. He was kind enough to make the trip for me."
"Sounds great," Harry said.
He didn't really care to continue Occlumency, but maybe it would be better without Snape. That was one thing he still was quite bitter over. He would never forgive his Potions instructor for not helping him last year. He would just have to grit his teeth and get through N.E.W.T level Potions. He had to have it to become an Auror.
"I also wanted to tell you that I believe you are an adult now and should be informed of certain things. I made the mistake of not filling you in before, and I don't intend on doing it again. Now, I can't tell you everything that happens because you are not a member of the Order yet, but I will tell you what I think you should know."
"Thank you, sir," Harry said.
"Is there anything else you would like to ask me?" Dumbledore said, as if he knew Harry was building the nerve to ask him about the torch.
"Er-yes," Harry said. "Two things actually- Why did you look so upset on the cover of the Daily Prophet?"
Dumbledore hooked his long fingers together and rested his chin on them.
"I didn't want our Minister of Magic laying the Order's affairs to everyone, but he insisted on the award and the article. He wanted to put everyone's name in the paper that worked for the Order, but I refused. I don't want anyone in anymore danger," he said.
"Okay, one more thing," Harry said. "Have you ever heard of the Green Flame Torch?"
With these words, Dumbledore's eyes flashed, and he sat up straight.
"So you know then," Dumbledore said slowly.
"No, I don't know anything, but I had a dream-,"
All of a sudden, Mr. Weasley burst in the door clutching a piece of parchment in his hand.
"Albus, you must come quickly," he said, looking frantic. "There's been an attack."