Chapter 14: Eye Opener
The chatter and ruckus that typified the Hogwarts corridors was still in full swing as the trio arrived at the Defense classroom. Harry couldn't remember being this excited for a lesson since his first year at school; it was taking all of his efforts to keep a silly grin off his face as he reached at last for the handle of the door.
"I don't know what you're so chuffed about, Harry!" Rom griped, though he was smirking at Harry's giddiness, "With our luck, it's bound to be another stupid prat like—bloody hell! Dumbledore!"
"Professor Dumbledore is quite alright, Mr. Weasley, but if you insist….I'm sure I could grow accustomed to the new address…" The headmaster's eyes twinkled with amusement as he stood at the front of the classroom, watching Ron turn a deep, reddish color. Harry stood, rooted to the spot. It was as if his brain had stopped, and the only parts of him that did seem to be working were his eyebrows, which were now working overtime, apparently trying to jump right off his face. Dumbledore turned to give him a small smile, and for some reason Harry suddenly felt a confusing sense of bitterness well up inside of him. He frowned slightly as Hermione pulled him towards the last few empty seats, wondering if perhaps he was still feeling a hint of Voldemort's hatred for Dumbledore.
With an effort, Harry managed to focus his attention back on the headmaster, who was in the midst of explaining this year's Defense curriculum. Harry was very pleased to learn that this was one of two N.E.W.T. level Defense classes this year, and the more advanced of the two. He looked around him briefly and discovered that almost all of his classmates were former D.A. members.
"All of the students in this room," Dumbledore said slowly, '"Scored in the top ninety-ninth percentile on last year's Ordinary Wizarding Level Defense examination. Your scores set the scale for all of the young witches and wizards to take the test last year, and never in the history of the O.W.L. system has there been such a large representation of high-scorers in one school. It is for this reason that I am most eager to take up the post of professor for this subject. You have been assigned to this advanced class because of the promise you show in the art of defense. In this class, you will have the opportunity to enhance your skills, and in doing such you will become some of the most valuable members of our society. You should all be aware of the increasing danger in our world. We will need to do everything in our power to stand against the threat of the dark forces, and as some of the most outstanding Defense students, it is vital that you are correctly trained and allowed to reach your full potential."
'So,' Harry thought, 'You've decided that it might be a good idea to take this subject seriously?' He sighed, unable to stop himself from thinking about how his life might be different if he and his classmates had been better trained years ago. However, his thoughts were interrupted by a low chuckle coming from behind him, followed by sarcastic muttering.
"Well, isn't it nice that the old fool's finally got a clue?" Harry turned slightly in his seat surprised that he hadn't noticed anyone sitting behind him, and to his shock he saw Draco Malfoy slumped over the corner desk, letting his head hang down and looking bored. Harry turned back to the front, unnerved at the similarity between his and Draco's thoughts. Dumbledore seemed to be finishing the speech as Harry once again focused his attention on the old wizard.
"..However, this class is not mandatory, and if anyone wishes to enroll in the regular N.E.W.T. Defense class, I'd be more than happy to accommodate you." He looked around the room, as if waiting for someone to speak up, but it was obvious that no one planned to drop this class. Dumbledore seemed satisfied, and went on in a somewhat less dramatic tone of voice. "In a moment, I'll be giving you a full introduction to the material we will be covering in the course, but first, there are a few issues to address.
"The first is castle security. Along with the other faculty and some very helpful friends, I've spent the last few months strengthening the protective wards around Hogwarts. Not surprisingly, there may be some changes in the rules. A fully updated list will be posted in each common room, and I am confident that you will all take these regulations seriously, as they are for your own safety. The other issue has to do with your schedules. Most of you have probably noticed the additional lessons scheduled for Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday evenings." Several people nodded. "This is part of a school-wide effort to increase practical defense levels. Two times a week, you will be participating in special training courses. On Thursdays, you will be expected to meet with the rest of your housemates to share your knowledge. At least four students have been selected from each house; two sixth years and two seventh years. I believe most of you are among those students selected. Are there any questions?"
A petite, dark-haired girl raised her hand confidently and Dumbledore turned to her with a smile. "Yes, Miss Moon?"
"Are your practical evening lessons going to augment your regular lessons?" she asked in a business-like manner. Harry marveled at the girl's efficiency; she had her quill poised over a spotless parchment, ready to take down the answer.
"It is quite possible…however, I think it is perhaps more likely that my lessons will augment the material you cover in the evening lessons." He shrugged. "I really can't say. What you learn in the evening classes will be left to the discretion of your instructor." The girl looked up sharply.
"Aren't you teaching it, then?" She looked scandalized. Harry suddenly felt an urgent desire to run. Hermione glanced over as he slid his chair back, poising himself to push away from the desk.
"Actually, no," the headmaster admitted, "I was fortunate enough to secure a much better teacher—one who ran a group of this sort last year…." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Mr. Potter."
All heads whipped around to face him, and Harry found himself staring back into eleven sets of eyes. From behind him, he heard Draco let out an irritated moan, and for the second time that day, Harry was forced to notice how much he could relate to his not-so-friendly Slytherin classmate. Once again, Harry felt a surge of annoyance and anger. Not only was he obliged to return to school, potentially endangering his friends, but Dumbledore was expecting him to teach Slytherins…the son of a Death Eater! Harry managed to smile half-heartedly at some of the other students, but he found that he couldn't bring himself to look at Dumbledore.
Soon enough, Dumbledore began talking about the topics they'd be covering this year. Harry, however, found it difficult to pay very close attention, for every time he looked up at the professor, his mind began to fill with visions of the discussion he'd have with Dumbledore after dinner tonight. He was still scowling when class was released half an hour later. He was the first one out the door, as he did not want to risk being stopped for a chat with Dumbledore – or anyone else, for that matter; in his current mood, he didn't trust himself to remain friendly.
Ron and Hermione burst out of the room a few steps behind Harry, still adjusting their backpacks. Together, they hurried to catch up with him as he stormed down the hallway.
"Harry!" Ron said, huffing slightly, "What's up? What's the matter?" Harry turned to look at his friend without slowing his pace. Ron, and Hermione beside him, were facing him with confused and worried looks. Harry took a breath, preparing to explain, but then realized that he couldn't explain.
"I…I don't know…I just…" He sighed. "Look, can we just go to the common room and relax or something? I need to breathe…"
"Can't," Hermione said at once. "I've got Arithmancy." Harry nodded, remembering her hectic schedule. Ron stared at her as if she had just spoken in Gobbledegook. Hermione rolled her eyes, but turned to Harry with a patient, caring look. "I'll just see you two at dinner, okay? Why don't you go take a nap or something, Harry? You look awful already…" Shaking her head, she turned and dashed away down the hall. Harry turned to Ron, his expression darkening.
"I'm so sick of hearing that from everyone," he mumbled. Ron shrugged, but grinned slightly.
"Well, maybe you should stop looking so awful, then." Harry swatted at him lazily, but Ron dodged easily. Unfortunately for him though, he ran right into a nearby suit of armor, and within ten seconds the racket had caught the attention of about ten first years down the hall. Harry's scowl finally melted as he watched his friend try to extricate himself from the mound of metal while the first years watched with interest. By the time the two boys reached the Gryffindor common room, they were both laughing too hard to give the password.
They collapsed heavily against the wall outside the common room to catch their breath. Harry leaned his head back against the cool stone and let his arms fall loosely to the floor, while Ron propped his arms up on his knees, his head lolling forward like a broken puppet, trying to breath deeply. Finally, he managed a big yawn and lifted his head to look at Harry.
"Tough day already, eh?" he groaned, still breathing quickly. Harry nodded silently and slid his feet forwards so that his legs were sprawled out in front of him. Ron seemed to hesitate for a moment before he spoke again. "So…are you alright?" Harry sighed.
"I don't know what my problem is," he admitted, "I mean, I should be happy to have Dumbledore teaching Defense this year, and I really am glad to be part of the Order now, but…" He paused. "It just seems like…like I'm trapped." He turned to see Ron's reaction, but saw only a disheveled head of red hair as Ron once again faced the floor. It was a moment before Ron lifted his head again, looking serious.
"Trapped?" he repeated. Harry shrugged.
"Just…trapped, like I don't have any room to move, any choice."
"Well," Ron began, looking uncomfortable, "Depending on how you look at it, you don't have a choice, at least according to the prophecy…but on the other hand…that's basically what the prophecy is, isn't it? A choice." Harry shook his head in frustration.
"But…I don't mean the prophecy. That I know I have a choice, and I know what I choose. What bothers me is…well, everything! I mean, last year after…after the whole thing at the Ministry, that's when Dumbledore told me about the prophecy and I was so…angry. I was so mad because Dumbledore knew, he knew all along, and he never told me until it was too late! Like I was too stupid to understand, too useless to deal with it." Harry fiddled with his wand, pausing momentarily. "Now though, I'm just so tired of it, you know? My whole life I've just been tossed around. Everyone else decides where I belong, what's best for me…" Ron laughed grimly.
"You think it's any different for anyone else? What do you think parents do?"
"I know…" Harry admitted, "But today, I just go so annoyed at Dumbledore. It was like I could see right through him. All this stuff about D.A., or whatever it's called now, is just his way of making sure I came back to Hogwarts. I mean really, Quidditch captain? Just last year he said he thought I had too much on my plate to handle more responsibility, and now I can handle teaching and being captain, and who-knows-what he has planned on top of that! The point is, he doesn't need me for that if he's going to teach Defense. What do I know that he doesn't? It's like a joke! He's just finding a sneaky way to make me do what he wants, and I don't care whether it's the best thing for me or not; I want to have some say over my life. He's not my parent!" At this, Ron laughed outright, and Harry looked at him quizzically. "What?"
"I think you'd have a hard time convincing him of that."
"What?"
"Harry!" Ron chuckled, "You practically live in his office, you write to him over holidays, he gives you Christmas presents, Harry! Don't try to tell me you aren't like a son to him…or at least a grandson."
"I don't write to him!" Harry argued, "And that invisibility cloak was my dad's."
"Whatever. The point is, for what it's worth, you probably have about seven parents. You're Harry Potter; everyone's looking out for you and trying to do what's right."
"Well…" Harry retorted uncertainly, taken aback by Ron's sudden understanding, not to mention his listening skills, "I'm not so sure I want them to." Ron grinned and hoisted himself to his feet before extending a hand to Harry.
"Welcome to the club, mate."
*****
At dinner that evening, Harry was relieved to find that most of the gossip about his mysterious hair-growing had calmed down. However, the news of his new position as a Defense trainer had already spread to all houses. Though the attention was certainly more positive that the curious whispering of earlier today, it was just as unwelcome. From every direction, he was receiving shouts of "Hey, Professor Potter!" and "Good evening, Sir!", and the most disturbing thing was the fact that many of the first years seemed quite serious.
However, he couldn't be as miserable as he was this afternoon; talking with Ron had lightened his mood considerably, and both of them were taking advantage of the meal to enjoy themselves. Feeling like first years, they happily accepted an unspoken challenge to fling spoonfuls of mashed potatoes at each other, while avoiding detection from Hermione, all the while keeping up a serious discussion of Quidditch tactics. Just as Harry was reaching for another pile of potatoes, feeling confident that he was ahead, Hermione looked up from her book to say something and received a wad of starchy goodness to the mouth. Ron, who had been the one responsible for the missile, seemed to count this as a high-scorer and was in the midst of a triumphant cheer when the sound of a book slamming against the table brought him back to reality.
'Ronald Weasley! How old are you, exactly?" She looked at him, fuming. "Last time I checked, you were a sixth year prefect!" Ron turned back to his plate, wisely opting to keep his silence, but he couldn't prevent the small smile. Predictably, Hermione then turned to address Harry, who feigned a sudden interest in buttering some bread. "And you! Harry James Potter! You are a role model and a teacher, for heaven's sake! You think you might want to act like it? And why are you buttering a whole loaf of bread?"
Harry was searching for a good reply when something warm and thick collided with the side of his face. Hermione whipped around to spot the culprit, but found herself facing a grinning Ginny. Finally, she gave up and laughed along with everyone else, but it was clear that the night's potato wars had reached their end. As they made their way out of the Great Hall, Hermione was giving her two friends a light lecture on their responsibilities as upperclassmen. Ron and Harry were taking turns nodding unenthusiastically until she seemed on the verge of wrapping up.
"Honestly," she muttered, "I don't think I've seen the two of you so hyper since…I don't know…years! What in the world put you in such a mood? What do you do when I'm in class?" They both shrugged noncommittally and continued walking. As they came up to the hallway that led to Dumbledore's office, Harry told them he'd see them later and made his way to the headmaster's spiral staircase, wondering how long he'd have to spend guessing the password. As it turned out, he needn't have worried, for as he approached the statue that guarded the entrance, it moved aside without a sound. Now feeling slightly nervous, Harry mounted the stairs and made his way up to the all-too-familiar office. Dumbledore waved him in politely as he reached the doorway, and as he stepped into the warm, bright office, he felt the door close smoothly behind him.
"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore said pleasantly.
"Evening, sir." Harry let his eyes wonder around the cozy office, noting vaguely that it was back to its usual order. For a moment, he felt a pang of regret over his behavior at the end of last year, but he was distracted before he had time to dwell on it.
"Ginger snap?"
"No, thank you."
"Mashed potatoes?" Harry's eyes widened in surprise, but Dumbledore gave no indication of joking as he held a small dish in his right hand. There was, however, a familiar twinkling starting in the old wizard's eyes, and Harry laughed in spite of himself.
"No, thank you, sir! I think I had plenty at dinner."
"Indeed! Well, in that case, to business! I asked you to meet me tonight because I have several matters to discuss with you. For the most part, they have to do with the Order of the Phoenix, so I suppose that would be the best place to start.
"Though you have already attended a meeting, technically you have not become an official member of the group." Dumbledore turned to a small table at his left and retrieved a small, but official-looking roll of parchment. "In order to consider yourself a member of the Order of the Phoenix, you must sign your name on this roster, agreeing to all the terms and requirements of the group." He passed the parchment to Harry, who was surprised to find no list of names.
"Sir? Has everyone signed this?"
"Yes. You won't, however, see those names. A convenient protective charm has been placed on the page in case the roster falls into unsavory hands. Once you sign, your name will also disappear, but the very act of signing seals the contract magically." Harry nodded slightly and began reading the terms of membership.
We, the undersigned, vow to do everything in our power to promote and protect secure and peaceful existence for mankind, magical and muggle alike. When the need arises, we promise to serve on the side of peace and cooperation and to stand up against any who wish to endanger these goals. We swear to uphold the secrecy and honor of this organization, and we will put our trust in each other. With the signing on this document, I place myself under the protection of the group and offer my services in the effort to achieve these noble goals.
Harry signed without hesitation, reasoning to himself that, for the most part, he was already living under the law of the Order. He watched with interested as his own signature sunk into the parchment, reminding him of a fated diary he had dealt with in his second year. Then, a curious sensation came over Harry; he felt warm and cold at the same time. This rippling feeling ran through his body quickly, and before he knew it, it seemed to collect at his hand. His palm tingled slightly, and when Harry looked down at it, he saw a shape forming. In seconds, the shape took on weight and form, and Harry found himself holding a small, gold pin in the shape of a phoenix. Dumbledore smiled at him.
"The pin is a concentration of your own unique magical energy. If you wear it always, the Order can use it as a way to locate you in an emergency. Also, you will find that, as an extension of your own magic, it will serve you well in dire situations. Finally—and you may tell Miss Granger that I thank her for the inspiration—the pins have now been modified to act as signals, both to summon you for meetings or assistance, and to warn you of any nearby threats." Harry marveled at the little pin and wondered where he was supposed to fasten it. Dumbledore stood up and continued talking casually.
"As you know, it is often vital that Order information be kept completely secret. You and I are both aware of your special…situation with regard to Voldemort. Luckily, Snape has assured me that the possibility of the Dark Lord taking advantage of your mind is no longer a consideration. However, for your own sake and everyone else's, I would like permission to get proof of this myself." The headmaster stopped, looking at him expectantly, and for a moment Harry didn't understand what he was asking.
"Sir…? You want to…you want me to prove…what?"
"Harry, I'd like to attempt to get into your thoughts…to try to break down this barrier Snape has described." Harry's eyes widened.
"Er…okay, then. What do I have to do?"
"Nothing at all. Just relax and we shall see what happens." With that, Dumbledore drew his wand and pointed it in Harry's direction. Almost immediately, Harry felt a dull throbbing behind his eyes. His brow furrowed as he tried to ignore the irritating pain, but only a moment later the pain seemed to double. Harry grimaced unhappily and scrunched his eyes shut as the pressure in his head seemed to build up, and he could almost hear the throbbing in his head. Finally, the pain stopped, and within seconds the pressure and throbbing had completely disappeared. Breathing out in relief, Harry turned to Dumbledore and found the older wizard in much worse condition than himself.
"Professor?" He wasn't sure what to do, but Dumbledore gave him a weak gesture, indicating that it was nothing to worry about.
"I'm quite alright, Harry," he said pleasantly as he lowered himself into his chair once again and reached for a small tin. Harry watched as he popped a small morsel into his mouth and his discomfort seemed to melt away. "Ahh! Much better! Well, Severus was right about two things: Your thoughts are certainly safe and protected, and you most certainly do have the uncanny ability to give one a severe headache!" Harry would've been a bit insulted by this last comment, had Dumbledore not been laughing as he said it. He was relatively sure, though, that Snape had been much more serious.
"Now that that's out of the way," Dumbledore continued, "There are a few other issues. For one thing, it is very important that you be able to apparate. The next meeting is not for a week or so, so we should have plenty of time to prepare you."
"Actually," Harry said, "Remus lent me a book and…well, I think I've pretty much got it under control already."
"Really?" Dumbledore sounded delighted and intrigued. Harry nodded modestly.
"Yes. We tried practicing when we were still at The Cottage…"
"Aha!" Dumbledore smiled secretively. "And you were able to apparate successfully?"
"Yes. We all were."
"All of you?" Suddenly his face grew serious, perhaps even confused.
"Yeah. It wasn't so hard, really. Remus' book was really helpful…what is it?" Harry recognized a pensive look on Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore shook his head slowly.
"Harry, your parents left that house steeped in protective charms, one of the strongest being an anti-apparation charm. Now, it is one thing for you, the technical owner and master of the house, to be able to ignore the charm, but it is quite impossible for your friends to have apparated on the Potter premises." Harry stared at him, only now remembering what Remus had said about not being able to apparate in Potter Cottage. But then, how could he explain the fact that his three friends, along with himself, had found it so easy to circumvent the protections?
"Professor…what does this mean? Have the charms failed?"
"I'm not sure, Harry. This is something that I will have to look into…it is very curious…" He tapped his fingertips against each other thoughtfully, and then returned his attention to Harry. "In any case, I'm glad to hear you have been able to apparate. We'll have to find a suitable place for you to demonstrate for me; I want to make sure you have it mastered. Also, since you don't need occlumency lessons, I think we might proceed to legilimency. I believe you have this time reserved on your weekly schedule?" Harry nodded. "Excellent. I think it best that our meetings remain secret; we don't know who might be listening, and I know you are quite aware of the importance of keeping a low profile this year." Harry nearly laughed out loud. A low profile? Judging from today's events, that was not going to be any easier this year than it had been in the past.
"Along with legilimency, I'll be teaching you some very advanced dueling and defensive skills, which brings me to my next topic: Your D.A. classes." Harry squirmed in his seat, torn between being completely honest and being polite and civil. In the end, he decided to try for both and opened his mouth to speak.
"Professor," he started, "Don't you think it's a bit…silly to ask me to teach when you are already teaching defense? Last year was different; we didn't have a competent teacher, but now…what can I show that you won't have already shown in class?"
"Actually, as I explained in class, my Defense lessons will focus on the physical aspects of dueling and defense. The students won't be learning any new spells from me. That will be your responsibility. I was not exaggerating when I said that I was lucky to get you to teach; you cannot deny that you are a natural leader." Harry sighed, still not convinced, and suddenly wished he had paid more attention to Dumbledore in class earlier today.
"Well," he asked, "What would you recommend I start off with? I'd feel a little stupid trying to teach summoning charms to a bunch of sixth and seventh years."
"You may be surprised, Harry. I suggest that you do start with the basics. After all, your students will need to be proficient enough to pass their knowledge on to their younger housemates. However, as the year goes on, I may be able to help you decide on some good spells. Of course, one of the main reasons you are teaching is your experience. You may want to consider using one night for practical lessons and the other night for more theoretical lessons. I will leave it up to you." Harry nodded for what seemed like the fiftieth time. "If it's alright with you, Harry, perhaps we can get started on your legilimency and defense training next time? It seems that my headache has returned and I might just have to seek a cure more potent than lemon drops…"
Harry agreed, glad to have some time to relax, though he found that he was very eager to begin training. So, he said goodnight and began the journey back to the common room, still a bit suspicious of Dumbledore's motives, but feeling bad about giving him a headache.