Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch
Chapter 4
Albus Dumbledore pulled into the muggle airport on the South Side of London in his bright yellow mini. The sky was overcast in a dull and gloomy gray. It was drizzling slightly, and it seemed to be getting worse as he got closer to the airport itself. This caused the wizard to chuckle slightly.
"Hmm." He muttered. "Michael seems to be unhappy." The thought worried the Headmaster of Hogwarts slightly.
He parked the car and got out. He made way to the gate his young protégé would be arriving at. He had arrived a few minutes early, so Dumbledore set off to find a sweet shop. He did, and he left a few minutes later about ten pounds poorer and a lot of lemon drops richer.
He returned to the gate and saw that there were people exiting. He stood off to one side, and a few moments later saw Michael, and motioned to him. The young man walked up, and just as Dumbledore had predicted a few minutes before, he seemed to be in a foul mood.
"Nice to see you again Michael." Dumbledore said evenly. Michael had carried his bag on, so they bypassed the crowded baggage claim and headed straight for Dumbledore's lemon colored car.
"Why am I not surprised this is your car?" Michael mused sarcastically. He got in the passengers side without another word. Dumbledore got in and they began the drive to downtown London.
"Nice rain back there." Dumbledore said to him, half jokingly. It elicited no laugh.
"Not mine. Although I think it fits." He responded shortly. Dumbledore was a little taken aback with the frankness he delivered this last comment with.
"Is there something you need to say to me?" Dumbledore asked the young man, with genuine curiosity and concern evident in his voice. The young man smiled.
"Keen observation there Dumbledore." He replied sarcastically, removing the piercing from his lip. "First off, remind me WHY I had to take the dammed muggle airplane?" He asked, taking off the skullcap and shaking out his hair.
"You know the miles of red tape we would have had to go through if you apparated or took a portkey." Dumbledore replied, slightly perturbed. "That's not what is bothering you." He said. It wasn't a question.
"No." Michael said simply. He brushed the hair from his eyes. Something was obviously bothering him. Dumbledore kept his eyes on the road, waiting for his young friend to voice his troubles.
"It's just," He began, "I'm worried about Jessica. Why couldn't she come too?" He asked quietly. Dumbledore looked over to him, and saw that his chin was sitting on his chest, his eyes downcast. They pulled into a parking lot near the Leaky Cauldron, and Dumbledore parked. Before leaving he turned to face Michael.
"You know she wouldn't have come, even if she could have. She has a family there. Plus, you know that if she would have come to, it would have caused an uproar at the Institute."
"Tell me she'll be all right." Michael said softly. Dumbledore frowned. He hated these moments. He encountered them often at Hogwarts. He could never bring himself to lie in these situations. Not to their faces.
"I can't do that." He said sadly. Dumbledore didn't know how Michael would react to this.
"That's..." He trailed off. Everything he was thinking about, which was a lot at the moment suddenly left him. "Not what I wanted to hear." He finished without any emotion at all in his voice. He had learned that trick over the past few years. Dumbledore nodded sadly.
"I'm sorry. With everything you've been going through, with Samael and..." Dumbledore said as a very angry Michael cut him off.
"You do NOT want to finish that sentence." He said in a deadly cold tone. Very few people on Earth would have taken that tone with Albus Dumbledore. But this young man was different. He said it without apology or remorse.
"I'm sorry. I should not have gone there. But if you ever need to talk..." Dumbledore continued before being cut off again.
"I don't." Michael said shortly, in the same unmistakably angry tone of voice.
"About anything," Dumbledore continued, stressing the last word. "My office is always open. Now, I think you should get changed." He said, in a tone that decidedly ended the subject.
Michael nodded and closed his eyes. His breathing was even, and he wore a look of deep concentration. A second later, a black and gold set of wizard's robes were where his raggedy clothes had been only moments before.
They seemed, at first glance at least, to be normal wizarding robes. But upon closer inspection, they were adorned in gold, and there were also several markings, which trained wizards would recognize as Ancient Celtic runes. He also cut off the athletic tape from his hands with a pocketknife and put on a pair of black Dragon hide gloves.
"Okay, I'm ready." He said to Dumbledore. "God I hate this official get- up." He mumbled under his breath. Dumbledore didn't stop walking toward the Leaky Cauldron, but the wizened old man did crack a small smile.
They entered the establishment and all of the chatter ceased. It wasn't everyday that Albus Dumbledore entered a place like this, but it was his guest that was receiving the most stares.
"Uh, should I say something?" Michael whispered to Dumbledore. The old man's eyes twinkled and he nodded. "Great." Michael said.
Taking a deep breath Michael walked into the center of the room and stood on an empty table. Dumbledore, quite amused by the entire scene, sat down near the bar and ordered a cup of coffee.
"Ah-hem." Michael cleared his throat. All eyes were on him now.
'This isn't how I wanted my little trip to start. I suck at public speaking...' He thought.
"To confirm your suspicions, yes. I am Michael Adumbro, and yes, I am an Archmage." Dumbledore was a tad surprised with the ease and calmness his young friend delivered this revelation. "I am here because of official business I must take care of with my friend Albus Dumbledore. I'm afraid any inquiries will have to wait. Thank you for your time." He finished with a small bow. 'That didn't sound forced AT ALL.' He thought to himself with a mental chuckle.
This announcement left the large room in a state of shock induced silence. With a slight grin Dumbledore motioned for Michael to join him at the bar. The young Archmage rolled his eyes slightly and joined him. He was painfully aware of all the poignant stares he was receiving.
"That went reasonably well." Dumbledore said to him. Michael shook his head.
"The only gripe I have, or had I suppose, with the Institute is that they never taught me how to do the whole public speaking deal. I had to learn the ENTIRE history of House Elves but NO! They couldn't help me with the entire speech thing." The young man replied. Dumbledore chuckled slightly at Michael's rant.
"Alas, that they did not do. Perhaps I can work on it with you. I do have my fair share of experience." Dumbledore said, a familiar twinkle in his eye. Michael snorted.
"Maybe later. We've got stuff to do now, do we not?" Michael asked. Dumbledore nodded. Paying Tom the barkeep they left into the nearly deserted Diagon Alley. Michael let out a low whistle.
"Man, last time I was here the place was packed." Michael said, looking around at the barren streets.
"Very few are brave enough to come here these days." Dumbledore replied, sadness brutally evident in his voice.
"Well, where to first?" Michael asked, looking around. Dumbledore thought for a moment.
"Well, I suppose we should get you your money." He said, pointing to Gringotts. Michael nodded and set off towards the bank. About twenty minutes later, the Archmage left the bank and headed for the Apothecary.
'Might as well get this done with.' He thought. But then he was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Dumbledore shout behind him.
"Death Eaters!" he shouted as he drew his wand. Michael looked around and saw seven Death Eaters in the street. Make that five, as Dumbledore dropped two almost instantly.
"I got the last five!" Michael shouted almost gleefully. "I could use a good workout..." He said, a menacing glare on his face.
The five Death Eaters turned on him, their wands drawn. Michael's expression changed into one of a smile. He shot a great beam of light directly in front of the Death Eaters, blinding them. He then jumped into the air. He flipped forward and landed behind the middle two Eaters.
He elbowed one in the back, causing him to hunch back in pain. He then grabbed him by the neck and dropped him across his knee neck first. There was a groan from the thug as he fell to the ground, clutching his fractured neck.
The other one swung at him quite slowly. Michael ducked it easily. He then kneed him in the gut before knocking him silly with an uppercut.
"Greetings from Chicago bitch." He said, leaning down to the two fallen Death Eaters. He didn't bother to stand up, as he could sense a curse coming his way. He spun to face the other three, still kneeling and closing his eyes in concentration. A second later an amazing display of lights filled the Alley as Michael let loose with a startling display of lighting directly at the Death Eaters.
There was a blood-curdling scream from the Death Eater it connected with and soon the smell of burnt flesh filled the street. The other two Death Eaters charged him and Michael rose to his feet to meet them.
Adrenaline now coursing through his vanes as he raised both arms parallel to the ground. "Stupefy." He said softly. Although he spoke quietly his spell was loud. In fact, several people inside buildings that day swore they heard a tidal wave sweep through their street. The light engulfed the Death Eaters and they were all knocked backwards into a stonewall, and damn near through it. They were knocked out immediately.
"Who's next?" Michael yelled out, the adrenaline still surging through him. He looked around quickly. He was still in control of himself, but he was becoming caught in the moment at an alarming rate. This had always been a problem for him, losing himself in the rush and excitement of the moment, but he had it under control recently.
Dumbledore stepped forward and put a calming hand on Michael's shoulder. Michael spun about quickly, but upon seeing his mentor's face he calmed. His breathing returned to normal. His heart rate slowed. He looked around, surveying the destruction he had caused. Several people had gathered in the street to watch the fight, but he ignored them. From the direction of the Ministry several Aurors were running towards them, wands drawn.
"What's going on?" One that Michael didn't recognize shouted. By now most of the bystanders had trickled back inside, the show over.
"We were attacked by several Death Eaters, Richard." Dumbledore replied to the Auror, who he must have known previously. "My young friend Michael here dispatched them quite easily." He said, as the Auror looked curiously at Michael, apparently discerning his identity for the first time.
"Ah, Master Adumbro, an honor to meet you. I'm Richard McKinley." The Auror said, extending his hand. Three other Aurors had begun to take the still stunned Death Eater back towards the Ministry, where they'd be held and tried, most likely in short order. The Minister had stepped it up in the court of public opinion. There was an election soon, after all.
"Always a pleasure to meet someone fighting on the same side." Michael said graciously. He then turned to Dumbledore. "You know how much this kind of thing takes out of me. I think I'll return...home and rest until... we can go over my arrangements for the year." He said slowly, carefully choosing his words.
"Ah, yes. I believe the situation here is in good hands?" Dumbledore responded, turning back to McKinley.
"Yes sir. Thank you for your... help." He said with a slight smile. Both the Archmage and Headmaster returned this before heading back out of the Alley to the car, where they drove a short distance to a small underground garage where they parked.
"There are wards around the house." Dumbledore said to Michael as they exited the car. "So you'll have to apparate a short distance away."
"Yes Albus, I'm quite familiar with apparation wards. I have been living in them for the past two or so years." He replied with a chuckle that was noticeably forced. Dumbledore shot him a sad smile before disappearing with a small pop. A millisecond later Michael followed him...
Later that night, Michael woke from his coma like state he always went into when he used up a lot of energy. He was aroused by the sounds of many voices below him. He cursed under his breath. 'Did I sleep through the start of the meeting?' He wondered. He dashed down the staircase of 12 Grimmuld Place. He burst into the kitchen a moment later, startling the members of the Order of Phoenix that had gathered there.
"Ah, Michael. Just in time for dinner." Dumbledore said with a slight chuckle. This didn't help to ease the tensions that several people in the room felt. A stranger had just barged in on their meeting place.
"Uh, Albus... Maybe some introductions are in order?" Michael asked the Headmaster. Dumbledore surveyed the room and smiled.
"Yes, I suppose that the wands currently pointed in your direction are a positive indicator of that fact." Dumbledore replied, still trying to lighten the mood. Looking about and seeing the glares on McGonagal's and Snapes face, he decided against any more jokes. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Michael Adumbro. As you can see if you examine his robes closely, he is an Archmage."
All the wands that had been pointed at him dropped, as did many jaws in the room. Now that the excitement, and fear, had worn off they could feel a powerful aura in the room that hadn't been there before.
Tonks, ever the one to break the proverbial ice, let out a low whistle, followed by a "Welcome to the team!" Michael laughed, and Tonks looked quite pleased with herself.
"Yes," Dumbledore added. "Sit down, Michael. Mrs. Weasely was about to serve us what will undoubtedly be an excellent meal!" Michael smiled and sat down. He was aware that Severus Snape was sending him death glares, but he had been informed that he did that with every one who wasn't a Slytherin. Michael discreetly looked around the room, hoping he recognized someone. He saw no one he really knew, except by name. To his immediate left was Remus Lupin, who greeted him with a "Hello" and not much else. However, his shortness could be excused, as the full moon was only two days ago, and he was still recovering. Tonks was on his right, who smiled warmly at him.
Dinner, to Michael at least, was spectacular. He was famished by the battle earlier in the day. There was a huge pot of meat stew that was chock full not only of beef, but also potato's and carrots. After two bowls he started on a third when he looked up to see he was the only one still eating. He was receiving a wide variety of looks, ranging from impatient to amused.
"Feel free to start." He said to Dumbledore. "I really don't have much to add." He said, before resuming his eating. Dumbledore and Tonks both laughed, and even Lupin managed a slight smile.
Most of the Order had arrived by that point, and most were anxious to begin. Mad Eye Moody, who Michael had met once before, was the only one not surprised to see him. Everyone else gasped in shock when Dumbledore introduced him again to start the meeting proper.
"So," he continued after the introduction, "what news do we have of Voldemort?" He asked. His voice was even as always. Like a rock for the others to lean on.
"He is bothered by something." Severus Snape said. "He isn't sleeping well."
"I bet that makes him even more pleasant." Michael added sarcastically. McGonagal looked at him sharply, and Tonks stifled a laugh.
"To the shock of all it didn't." Snape said dryly. Michael didn't bother trying to stop himself from laughing.
"Do you know why he isn't sleeping, Severus?" Dumbledore asked him. Michael regained control of himself easily and settled back into his quiet state.
"He's apparently having nightmares sir." The Potions master replied. This time Michael stifled his laugh. The idea that this grand menace they were all afraid of was being kept up by nightmares just made him crack up.
"Hmm... We'll have to keep an eye on this." Dumbledore said gravely. The meeting went on for quite a while, most of it being dreadfully dull. Various reports were given, and none held much intrest for Michael.
About an hour and a half into the meeting, Remus Lupin spoke up.
"How did your meeting with Harry go Albus?" He asked. Molly Weasely suddenly was "woken" from her state of boredom.
"Is he doing okay Albus?" She asked, worried. She held the look of a concerned mother.
"He is doing reasonably well. Although he still blames himself for what happened at the Department of Mysteries." Dumbledore said sadly.
"He does?" Remus asked quietly. Dumbledore nodded. "I had an idea yesterday." Remus said. "Harry's birthday is in a couple of days, why don't we throw him a party?" He asked. Several of the members, most noticeably Tonks and the Weasely's, immediately agreed.
"Hmm... That does sound like a good idea." Dumbledore mused. "But where would we have it? I doubt Harry will be particularly anxious to return here." He said.
"How about the Burrow?" Mr. Weasely spoke up. Molly nodded emphatically.
"Yes. I believe that is a great idea." Dumbledore agreed. "I will write Harry tonight and inform him he can "visit" the Burrow. I believe he will like the party even more if it is a surprise." He said, the familiar twinkle in his eye.
"That's great Albus." Molly replied. "I'll tell the kids." She said.
The meeting concluded a short while later. Everyone went home, and Dumbledore made sure Remus and Michael were both settled in before returning to Hogwarts to draft the letter to Harry.
"See you in the Morning, Michael." He said.
"Yea. I suppose you have a party to plan."
NEXT CHAPTER: In which a long overdue party is thrown and certain events are set in motion, some of which can not be undone and will have grave repercussions...
Okay, there we go. I finally came up with a name for a chapter in advance to give you all a bit of a teaser. Thanks for the kind reviews. Keep them coming. Heh. –KI.
Chapter 4
Albus Dumbledore pulled into the muggle airport on the South Side of London in his bright yellow mini. The sky was overcast in a dull and gloomy gray. It was drizzling slightly, and it seemed to be getting worse as he got closer to the airport itself. This caused the wizard to chuckle slightly.
"Hmm." He muttered. "Michael seems to be unhappy." The thought worried the Headmaster of Hogwarts slightly.
He parked the car and got out. He made way to the gate his young protégé would be arriving at. He had arrived a few minutes early, so Dumbledore set off to find a sweet shop. He did, and he left a few minutes later about ten pounds poorer and a lot of lemon drops richer.
He returned to the gate and saw that there were people exiting. He stood off to one side, and a few moments later saw Michael, and motioned to him. The young man walked up, and just as Dumbledore had predicted a few minutes before, he seemed to be in a foul mood.
"Nice to see you again Michael." Dumbledore said evenly. Michael had carried his bag on, so they bypassed the crowded baggage claim and headed straight for Dumbledore's lemon colored car.
"Why am I not surprised this is your car?" Michael mused sarcastically. He got in the passengers side without another word. Dumbledore got in and they began the drive to downtown London.
"Nice rain back there." Dumbledore said to him, half jokingly. It elicited no laugh.
"Not mine. Although I think it fits." He responded shortly. Dumbledore was a little taken aback with the frankness he delivered this last comment with.
"Is there something you need to say to me?" Dumbledore asked the young man, with genuine curiosity and concern evident in his voice. The young man smiled.
"Keen observation there Dumbledore." He replied sarcastically, removing the piercing from his lip. "First off, remind me WHY I had to take the dammed muggle airplane?" He asked, taking off the skullcap and shaking out his hair.
"You know the miles of red tape we would have had to go through if you apparated or took a portkey." Dumbledore replied, slightly perturbed. "That's not what is bothering you." He said. It wasn't a question.
"No." Michael said simply. He brushed the hair from his eyes. Something was obviously bothering him. Dumbledore kept his eyes on the road, waiting for his young friend to voice his troubles.
"It's just," He began, "I'm worried about Jessica. Why couldn't she come too?" He asked quietly. Dumbledore looked over to him, and saw that his chin was sitting on his chest, his eyes downcast. They pulled into a parking lot near the Leaky Cauldron, and Dumbledore parked. Before leaving he turned to face Michael.
"You know she wouldn't have come, even if she could have. She has a family there. Plus, you know that if she would have come to, it would have caused an uproar at the Institute."
"Tell me she'll be all right." Michael said softly. Dumbledore frowned. He hated these moments. He encountered them often at Hogwarts. He could never bring himself to lie in these situations. Not to their faces.
"I can't do that." He said sadly. Dumbledore didn't know how Michael would react to this.
"That's..." He trailed off. Everything he was thinking about, which was a lot at the moment suddenly left him. "Not what I wanted to hear." He finished without any emotion at all in his voice. He had learned that trick over the past few years. Dumbledore nodded sadly.
"I'm sorry. With everything you've been going through, with Samael and..." Dumbledore said as a very angry Michael cut him off.
"You do NOT want to finish that sentence." He said in a deadly cold tone. Very few people on Earth would have taken that tone with Albus Dumbledore. But this young man was different. He said it without apology or remorse.
"I'm sorry. I should not have gone there. But if you ever need to talk..." Dumbledore continued before being cut off again.
"I don't." Michael said shortly, in the same unmistakably angry tone of voice.
"About anything," Dumbledore continued, stressing the last word. "My office is always open. Now, I think you should get changed." He said, in a tone that decidedly ended the subject.
Michael nodded and closed his eyes. His breathing was even, and he wore a look of deep concentration. A second later, a black and gold set of wizard's robes were where his raggedy clothes had been only moments before.
They seemed, at first glance at least, to be normal wizarding robes. But upon closer inspection, they were adorned in gold, and there were also several markings, which trained wizards would recognize as Ancient Celtic runes. He also cut off the athletic tape from his hands with a pocketknife and put on a pair of black Dragon hide gloves.
"Okay, I'm ready." He said to Dumbledore. "God I hate this official get- up." He mumbled under his breath. Dumbledore didn't stop walking toward the Leaky Cauldron, but the wizened old man did crack a small smile.
They entered the establishment and all of the chatter ceased. It wasn't everyday that Albus Dumbledore entered a place like this, but it was his guest that was receiving the most stares.
"Uh, should I say something?" Michael whispered to Dumbledore. The old man's eyes twinkled and he nodded. "Great." Michael said.
Taking a deep breath Michael walked into the center of the room and stood on an empty table. Dumbledore, quite amused by the entire scene, sat down near the bar and ordered a cup of coffee.
"Ah-hem." Michael cleared his throat. All eyes were on him now.
'This isn't how I wanted my little trip to start. I suck at public speaking...' He thought.
"To confirm your suspicions, yes. I am Michael Adumbro, and yes, I am an Archmage." Dumbledore was a tad surprised with the ease and calmness his young friend delivered this revelation. "I am here because of official business I must take care of with my friend Albus Dumbledore. I'm afraid any inquiries will have to wait. Thank you for your time." He finished with a small bow. 'That didn't sound forced AT ALL.' He thought to himself with a mental chuckle.
This announcement left the large room in a state of shock induced silence. With a slight grin Dumbledore motioned for Michael to join him at the bar. The young Archmage rolled his eyes slightly and joined him. He was painfully aware of all the poignant stares he was receiving.
"That went reasonably well." Dumbledore said to him. Michael shook his head.
"The only gripe I have, or had I suppose, with the Institute is that they never taught me how to do the whole public speaking deal. I had to learn the ENTIRE history of House Elves but NO! They couldn't help me with the entire speech thing." The young man replied. Dumbledore chuckled slightly at Michael's rant.
"Alas, that they did not do. Perhaps I can work on it with you. I do have my fair share of experience." Dumbledore said, a familiar twinkle in his eye. Michael snorted.
"Maybe later. We've got stuff to do now, do we not?" Michael asked. Dumbledore nodded. Paying Tom the barkeep they left into the nearly deserted Diagon Alley. Michael let out a low whistle.
"Man, last time I was here the place was packed." Michael said, looking around at the barren streets.
"Very few are brave enough to come here these days." Dumbledore replied, sadness brutally evident in his voice.
"Well, where to first?" Michael asked, looking around. Dumbledore thought for a moment.
"Well, I suppose we should get you your money." He said, pointing to Gringotts. Michael nodded and set off towards the bank. About twenty minutes later, the Archmage left the bank and headed for the Apothecary.
'Might as well get this done with.' He thought. But then he was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Dumbledore shout behind him.
"Death Eaters!" he shouted as he drew his wand. Michael looked around and saw seven Death Eaters in the street. Make that five, as Dumbledore dropped two almost instantly.
"I got the last five!" Michael shouted almost gleefully. "I could use a good workout..." He said, a menacing glare on his face.
The five Death Eaters turned on him, their wands drawn. Michael's expression changed into one of a smile. He shot a great beam of light directly in front of the Death Eaters, blinding them. He then jumped into the air. He flipped forward and landed behind the middle two Eaters.
He elbowed one in the back, causing him to hunch back in pain. He then grabbed him by the neck and dropped him across his knee neck first. There was a groan from the thug as he fell to the ground, clutching his fractured neck.
The other one swung at him quite slowly. Michael ducked it easily. He then kneed him in the gut before knocking him silly with an uppercut.
"Greetings from Chicago bitch." He said, leaning down to the two fallen Death Eaters. He didn't bother to stand up, as he could sense a curse coming his way. He spun to face the other three, still kneeling and closing his eyes in concentration. A second later an amazing display of lights filled the Alley as Michael let loose with a startling display of lighting directly at the Death Eaters.
There was a blood-curdling scream from the Death Eater it connected with and soon the smell of burnt flesh filled the street. The other two Death Eaters charged him and Michael rose to his feet to meet them.
Adrenaline now coursing through his vanes as he raised both arms parallel to the ground. "Stupefy." He said softly. Although he spoke quietly his spell was loud. In fact, several people inside buildings that day swore they heard a tidal wave sweep through their street. The light engulfed the Death Eaters and they were all knocked backwards into a stonewall, and damn near through it. They were knocked out immediately.
"Who's next?" Michael yelled out, the adrenaline still surging through him. He looked around quickly. He was still in control of himself, but he was becoming caught in the moment at an alarming rate. This had always been a problem for him, losing himself in the rush and excitement of the moment, but he had it under control recently.
Dumbledore stepped forward and put a calming hand on Michael's shoulder. Michael spun about quickly, but upon seeing his mentor's face he calmed. His breathing returned to normal. His heart rate slowed. He looked around, surveying the destruction he had caused. Several people had gathered in the street to watch the fight, but he ignored them. From the direction of the Ministry several Aurors were running towards them, wands drawn.
"What's going on?" One that Michael didn't recognize shouted. By now most of the bystanders had trickled back inside, the show over.
"We were attacked by several Death Eaters, Richard." Dumbledore replied to the Auror, who he must have known previously. "My young friend Michael here dispatched them quite easily." He said, as the Auror looked curiously at Michael, apparently discerning his identity for the first time.
"Ah, Master Adumbro, an honor to meet you. I'm Richard McKinley." The Auror said, extending his hand. Three other Aurors had begun to take the still stunned Death Eater back towards the Ministry, where they'd be held and tried, most likely in short order. The Minister had stepped it up in the court of public opinion. There was an election soon, after all.
"Always a pleasure to meet someone fighting on the same side." Michael said graciously. He then turned to Dumbledore. "You know how much this kind of thing takes out of me. I think I'll return...home and rest until... we can go over my arrangements for the year." He said slowly, carefully choosing his words.
"Ah, yes. I believe the situation here is in good hands?" Dumbledore responded, turning back to McKinley.
"Yes sir. Thank you for your... help." He said with a slight smile. Both the Archmage and Headmaster returned this before heading back out of the Alley to the car, where they drove a short distance to a small underground garage where they parked.
"There are wards around the house." Dumbledore said to Michael as they exited the car. "So you'll have to apparate a short distance away."
"Yes Albus, I'm quite familiar with apparation wards. I have been living in them for the past two or so years." He replied with a chuckle that was noticeably forced. Dumbledore shot him a sad smile before disappearing with a small pop. A millisecond later Michael followed him...
Later that night, Michael woke from his coma like state he always went into when he used up a lot of energy. He was aroused by the sounds of many voices below him. He cursed under his breath. 'Did I sleep through the start of the meeting?' He wondered. He dashed down the staircase of 12 Grimmuld Place. He burst into the kitchen a moment later, startling the members of the Order of Phoenix that had gathered there.
"Ah, Michael. Just in time for dinner." Dumbledore said with a slight chuckle. This didn't help to ease the tensions that several people in the room felt. A stranger had just barged in on their meeting place.
"Uh, Albus... Maybe some introductions are in order?" Michael asked the Headmaster. Dumbledore surveyed the room and smiled.
"Yes, I suppose that the wands currently pointed in your direction are a positive indicator of that fact." Dumbledore replied, still trying to lighten the mood. Looking about and seeing the glares on McGonagal's and Snapes face, he decided against any more jokes. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Michael Adumbro. As you can see if you examine his robes closely, he is an Archmage."
All the wands that had been pointed at him dropped, as did many jaws in the room. Now that the excitement, and fear, had worn off they could feel a powerful aura in the room that hadn't been there before.
Tonks, ever the one to break the proverbial ice, let out a low whistle, followed by a "Welcome to the team!" Michael laughed, and Tonks looked quite pleased with herself.
"Yes," Dumbledore added. "Sit down, Michael. Mrs. Weasely was about to serve us what will undoubtedly be an excellent meal!" Michael smiled and sat down. He was aware that Severus Snape was sending him death glares, but he had been informed that he did that with every one who wasn't a Slytherin. Michael discreetly looked around the room, hoping he recognized someone. He saw no one he really knew, except by name. To his immediate left was Remus Lupin, who greeted him with a "Hello" and not much else. However, his shortness could be excused, as the full moon was only two days ago, and he was still recovering. Tonks was on his right, who smiled warmly at him.
Dinner, to Michael at least, was spectacular. He was famished by the battle earlier in the day. There was a huge pot of meat stew that was chock full not only of beef, but also potato's and carrots. After two bowls he started on a third when he looked up to see he was the only one still eating. He was receiving a wide variety of looks, ranging from impatient to amused.
"Feel free to start." He said to Dumbledore. "I really don't have much to add." He said, before resuming his eating. Dumbledore and Tonks both laughed, and even Lupin managed a slight smile.
Most of the Order had arrived by that point, and most were anxious to begin. Mad Eye Moody, who Michael had met once before, was the only one not surprised to see him. Everyone else gasped in shock when Dumbledore introduced him again to start the meeting proper.
"So," he continued after the introduction, "what news do we have of Voldemort?" He asked. His voice was even as always. Like a rock for the others to lean on.
"He is bothered by something." Severus Snape said. "He isn't sleeping well."
"I bet that makes him even more pleasant." Michael added sarcastically. McGonagal looked at him sharply, and Tonks stifled a laugh.
"To the shock of all it didn't." Snape said dryly. Michael didn't bother trying to stop himself from laughing.
"Do you know why he isn't sleeping, Severus?" Dumbledore asked him. Michael regained control of himself easily and settled back into his quiet state.
"He's apparently having nightmares sir." The Potions master replied. This time Michael stifled his laugh. The idea that this grand menace they were all afraid of was being kept up by nightmares just made him crack up.
"Hmm... We'll have to keep an eye on this." Dumbledore said gravely. The meeting went on for quite a while, most of it being dreadfully dull. Various reports were given, and none held much intrest for Michael.
About an hour and a half into the meeting, Remus Lupin spoke up.
"How did your meeting with Harry go Albus?" He asked. Molly Weasely suddenly was "woken" from her state of boredom.
"Is he doing okay Albus?" She asked, worried. She held the look of a concerned mother.
"He is doing reasonably well. Although he still blames himself for what happened at the Department of Mysteries." Dumbledore said sadly.
"He does?" Remus asked quietly. Dumbledore nodded. "I had an idea yesterday." Remus said. "Harry's birthday is in a couple of days, why don't we throw him a party?" He asked. Several of the members, most noticeably Tonks and the Weasely's, immediately agreed.
"Hmm... That does sound like a good idea." Dumbledore mused. "But where would we have it? I doubt Harry will be particularly anxious to return here." He said.
"How about the Burrow?" Mr. Weasely spoke up. Molly nodded emphatically.
"Yes. I believe that is a great idea." Dumbledore agreed. "I will write Harry tonight and inform him he can "visit" the Burrow. I believe he will like the party even more if it is a surprise." He said, the familiar twinkle in his eye.
"That's great Albus." Molly replied. "I'll tell the kids." She said.
The meeting concluded a short while later. Everyone went home, and Dumbledore made sure Remus and Michael were both settled in before returning to Hogwarts to draft the letter to Harry.
"See you in the Morning, Michael." He said.
"Yea. I suppose you have a party to plan."
NEXT CHAPTER: In which a long overdue party is thrown and certain events are set in motion, some of which can not be undone and will have grave repercussions...
Okay, there we go. I finally came up with a name for a chapter in advance to give you all a bit of a teaser. Thanks for the kind reviews. Keep them coming. Heh. –KI.