Just because I've finally gotten off my butt to do this, the final and last chapter of Order of the Psi!

ME


The dot faded into Ron's skin. Ron had jumped a level, to THE level. Ron backed out of the crowd around the battle's viewing mirrors; only just remembering it was there at all.

"Ron?" asked Hermione, putting a hand on his shoulder in a vague attempt at comfort. "Are you alright? You look pale, almost like you've just woken from a nightmare." She said, taking a quick glance at the mirror and to the image flashing pictures of brave redheaded twins ordering others about.

Ron looked Hermione in the eyes, behind her evident worry for him, he saw helplessness, and fear, and all the other little insecurities that Hermione did such a well job of covering beneath a mask of brains and know-it-all attitudes.

Slowly Ron's hands reached up to cup her soft, gentle face in his clammy palms. His thumbs smoothed out the tiny wrinkles that had framed the corners of her mouth in concern. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, when Harry interrupted.

"Ron! Hermione! The object just reached some whole new level of power! Voldemort has just decided to charge!" He cried, clutching the scarred side of his forehead with a spasm-fit fist. Instantly, Dumbledore and twisted above their maps of the grounds, desperately attempting to slap together a first line of defense.

Ron wasn't sure what expression he'd been wearing; he was to numb to note it. But he felt it change into the look he wore so often under the white Psi hood when training to earn his swirls. A steel determination.

"Jesus, Lee, what happened?" asked a shouting Fred and George, brining in another group of the injured teens in desperate need of medical attention.

"I don't know!" wailed Lee, near hysterics. Cho was in tears behind the trio, as the pranksters began a quiet argument.

"Nothing." Ron muttered. "Nothing happened." Stalking over to the fight, he roughly pushed the twins apart and grabbed Lee by the sleeve of his robe. Quickly, he turned and dragged him to Cho, now pathetically on the stone floor sobbing.

Ron yanked the girl to her feet and pulled both along behind him. Next he seized Hannah Abbot, then Justin Finch-Fletchley. He herded all four to the Slytherin table, where he grabbed up Pansy Parkington

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Weasel?" she shrieked, as they were all bodily dragged to a little ways off into the corner of the Great Hall.

Just as suddenly as he'd started, Ron stopped and spun on the ball of one foot, and pinned them all to their positions with a look. "Let me make some introductions, shall I?" he asked with a razor bladed voice.

All opposing banter stopped dead.

He motioned to Lee, "Pyro-Alfa."

Toward Cho, "Aqua-Alfa."

Toward Hannah, "Faile-Alfa."

Toward Justin, "Earthian-Alfa."

Toward Pansy, "Psi-Alfa."

And at first, none moved. Then they began to realize that not only did he know where they were, but that they now held that knowledge, too. In almost complete unison, the quintet pointed in the direction of another and yelped, "Wait, you're!"

"But, if you knew that," said Pansy, swiveling her head to face Ron once more, "Then you must be…Oh my God."

Ron smirked at the shocked faces of his schoolmates. "And look at me, thinking you'd been a Ravenclaw." Lee said under his breath. And next he knew, Ron was bombarded by questions.

"What was that power? Where did it come from? Do you know what caused it?" they asked in varying degrees of wonder and fear. Ron shushed them with a flick of a wrist.

"It was someone jumping levels." He stated simply.

"How?" asked Justin, "I felt you jump to sixth level, and even that wasn't this powerful!" The group nodded, and waited for an answer.

Ron sighed, and called forth his Psi power, channeling it to his forehead, to allow his pupil to glow with it's eerie blue-white for a brief moment.

"I jumped. I have achieved…sight. I no longer merely see." Even with the background noise the rest of the students made with their frightened shifting, and the teachers created with their secretive whispers, you may have been able to hear a pin drop within the small group to the side of the hall, not that anyone noticed.

Cho's tears slowed and stopped, "What do you want us to do?"

Ron faced her with a fatherly smile, "We're in the middle of a battle, little one. What do you think?"

As one, all turned to the head table where Dumbledore and Snape were still pondering and plotting worriedly.

The oddly paired and rag-tag group was led up to the headmaster by Ron. Snape noticed them first and barked a stiff order for them to head off and leave them alone, he and Dumbledore were busy.

"Do you want help or not?" snapped Lee, Pyro-personality making itself known, loudly. He glared defiantly at the greasy Professor, crossing his arms firmly over his chest.

Ron shushed his antics with a quick thought and motioned hand.

"We can help." Ron said. Dumbledore gave the small team a sad smile and began to straighten up, but Ron beat him by motioning to Cho. She pointed out some beneficial strategic maneuvers. Snape gaped.

"Why didn't we…? Quick! Send the orders! Hissed Snape to a waiting seventh year runner. Dumbledore faced them, with a new look in his eye.

"What do you think of all this?" he asked, waving a hand over the maps, which held far too many red ink dots to mark enemies, and far too few blue ones of students.

Ron spoke up rapidly, "You have too few soldiers, with less than adequate training, for one."

"Mr.Weasly, Ron, if you have better soldiers than by all means get them. Now if you don't mind, " Dumbledore said, turning to Cho, and silently dismissing the rest of them.

Finally realizing that their friend was gone, the twins rushed to the group and began to shout. "Lee! What the bloody hell is going on?" the collected Psi and two professors jumped around, save Ron. Two pairs of arms took hold of Lee's dark sleeves, prepared to take him away.

"Not now, mates." Said Jordan, trying to brush them off.

"Come on, you were wasting time earlier—Don't keep it up! We have things to do, and you're being all weird and hanging around our little brother, it's time to GO!" The twins gave one massive yank and almost managed to bring Lee tumbling off with them.

"Let GO!" Lee snarled. A bright orange flare flew up Lee's arms and dissipated into a colorless heat wave that forced the twins back. It was only a split-second, but Lee had been consumed in fire.

At the stared of all in the Hall, Lee stared defiantly back. Well, he did to the twins. Not until he saw Ron's withering glare did he realize he'd gathered, quite neatly, the attention of every person in the room. Blushing against his dark skin, he stepped back in embarrassment.

Ron turned to Dumbledore, and into the silence of the Great Hall, began to speak.

"You dare me to call my army? So be it; they shall be summoned."

Taking their cue, the sept leaders started halfway to the tables, and raised their left hands to the fake-storming ceiling, their rings and robes, complete with hood, appearing on their bodies.

"Faile-sept!" Hannah shouted, and they unwittingly transformed their clothes and robes into the white uniform.

"Earthian-sept!" followed Justin, with another wave of white.

"Aqua-sept!"

"Pyro-sept!"

"Psi-sept!"

All the Psi present were now in uniform, save Ron. Ron beamed at his army. Standing at the ready, wondering how they were to do anything at all.

"Pansy?" Ron said, "have you best telepathy users contact the muggle members, the usual teleport spots. Have the teleporters pick them up." She nodded and a not but a minute later, the number of white-capped figures had doubled, to at least eighty.

Ron faced Dumbledore, pale beneath his half-moon spectacles. For one of the few times Ron remembered, the man's eyes appeared to be his age, not twinkling to seem younger. "This is my army, Dumbledore. We are the skull-squadron of the Order of the Psi. Now this battle belongs to us." The robes now finally fell onto Ron's slender form, a black sash crossing over right shoulder to left waist, and a bright blue pulsing emblem on his forehead shone bright, the center of the stylized eye cut out to form what no other Psi had achieved in many centuries. A pupil. "And now, WE SHALL FIGHT!"

A cheer rose up from the ranks of white, they were grasping the concept behind the emblem.

Ron did not wait for the twins or the professors or Harry to understand. They had seventh years out on the battlefield, with next-to-no or none-at-all battle training!

"Aqua! Get your sept into the lake, knock out the masked attackers with water pellets!"

"What if they notice they're being attacked?" asked Cho, always in need of a good back up.

"Start hitting them with tidal waves! Earthian, go to the dungeons first. Earth-walk under the battlefield and pull the baddies underground and into safety stone—It's not affected by magic! Faile! Your people will be at the tower tops. Use whirlwinds to drag men off their broomsticks and keep the sky too turbulent to get back up! Pyro? Divide your men into two groups, one group goes around the grounds to put up and sustain a barrier, we don't need death eaters escaping by foot and apparation. Group two; you're our main ground attack force. Keep up your shields and let's fight magic with fire!

Taking a deep breath, Ron allowed the scramble to follow his instructions die a little before continuing.

"Psi! Split five ways, one group to help one other sept with barrier protection, teleport support, and healing. Go! Now!"

Harry took a moment and caught up mentally with the quick change of events, and asked what his mind deemed the most urgent question for the moment. "What about you, Ron?"

Ron slowed her fervor and put both hands on Harry's shoulders, giving a brief squeeze for comfort. "Harry, I realized when I jumped levels that what Voldemort's follower sensed was not an object at all. See these people? We are Psi. Our meetings were on the nights you had dreams. He sensed us, Harry, he sensed us. My job; is to find him."

Ron turned and began to walk out the doors when Harry called to his retreating back, "Stay safe!" and even if he couldn't see it, Ron smiled.

Ron stealthily maneuvered through the outer fringes of the forbidden forest. He could sense the pyros tensing for the attack. Failes gathered on the roof and prepared the aerial onslaught, Aquarians sifted themselves into the lake water, while Earthians gathered in small clumps underground, earth walking and ready to suck death eaters into underground prisons of hallowed rock.

On my mark, Ron told the squadron via mind-speak. The element of surprise is essential! One; the Psi relaxed, two, they tensed, three, they steeled their willpower, GO!

They went.

Instantly, a dozen death eaters were swallowed by the ground beneath them as giant mouths of earth opened their jaws like gaping whales to devour them, then settled as though no one had stepped foot there at all. Five men were clinging to bucking brooms while gale-force winds whipped about, attempting to dislodge them. Men began to fall unconscious left and right with odd wet patches on their skulls. But perhaps most noticeable, and most feared, were the white clad warriors appearing out of air, letting loose a burning redemption.

Satisfied the dark men were going to suffer harsh dealings before eventually losing, Ron set himself a little deeper into the undergrowth and began to shift though minds, searching.

'Bloody effin' hell! What in the name of effin' god are those?'

'No! No! This is not how it's supposed to go! No!'

The confused thoughts of the wicked were flashing frightfully around him, many of their emotions attempting to topple his own calm with their sheer volume. He mentally jumped from one head to the next, across a field of battle that transcended the physical plane.

'I need, I need! AH! Oh no! I need to…get away! A WALL?' Ron watched through the eyes of a man in front of the Pyro's barrier to the outside. The man reached a rough looking hand forward to touch what looked like a harmless red-orange light, but the moment skin touched the barrier, skin melted off and cauterized the wound. The man only just began to scream when Ron jumped off again. The minds, while loud, almost felt like feather touches.

'I knew it was powerful! I knew it! These wanna-be powerful wizards won't stop me!' A half maniacal mind clawed.

'Found him!' Ron cheered to himself. Spinning on his heel, Ron faced the direction of the mind's owner, eyes sweeping quickly over the battleground to find him.

The man was heading the charge of the attack, white mask askew slightly to the left, revealing the edge of a mad man's smile. He screamed, "Find the object! Find it and bring it to me!"

'He's gone bonkers.' Ron thought.

Bursting through the undergrowth Ron leapt in the air, using a combination of Psi-sept and Faile-sept techniques, taught to him when he was naught but third level, to propel himself over the heads of the enemy, and fly into and topple the man.

Sitting up on top of the crazed man he began a chant. "Sauu-sawme-sauu-sawme-sauu-sawme-leyu-tawnte! Sauu-sawme-sauu-sawme-sauu-sawme-leyu-tawnte!…" The calming words lulled the man to a mind-induced sleep, as a blue white light drifted over and across his forehead and into Ron's outstretched palm.

Absorbing the meager Psi-power the man had was simple, it wasn't as thought the fellow knew he had it; it wasn't even strong enough for him to be picked up Psi sensory. But it was powerful enough, that through his years going untrained, it had almost definitely driven him mad. It was getting away from the surrounding death eaters now that Ron worried about. Knowing suddenly, for sure, that the boy in front of them was real, that they could attack at any moment. Ron did a run down of his options.

'My teleportation range being so small takes that out of the question, halfway through earth walking would see me dead, I'd be vulnerable if I decided to fly, so…' Decision made, Ron focused his power and…

"BLUEFIRE HELL!" He screamed. A technique held tightly to the Pyro-sept, a blue wall of flame exploded outward from him, burning with head but not with any other physical sensation. Afterward, a singed circle of grass enclosed Ron with a ten-foot radius, clothes and nature burned, but other than bruises from the fall, the fainted humans in the circle were unharmed.

The battlefield was silent in the aftermath. Ron regained his composure and straightened from his hunched position. Taking their opportunity, the earthians stored more death eaters into underground caverns previously non-existent.

With their leader gone, the rest turned tail and ran. Ron pitied them some, to be winning a one-sided battle that turned on them so fast. "Psi! Take their wands!" Ron commanded. The trapped death eaters, having run into the flame wall, felt a brief tug and found themselves wandless.

In shorter words, trapped and helpless.

Haul them in. Ron told the barrier group. They ring of orange surrounding the grounds slowly shrunk to be no larger than the quiddich field.

All the death eaters trapped, Dumbledore and a procession of professors tailed from the front of gates. Seventh years scrambled behind them. Beneath his hood, Ron rolled his eyes at girls looking to Fred and George for comfort. Lee then jogged to Ron and pressed a fist to his heart in a simple salute.

"What do we do with the captives, Skull-one?" Lee asked.

"Knock out the remaining ones, and have Psi-Alfa keep them sleeping. Then…Relax. We've done our bit, Lee." Ron answered, turning his head to watch his orders being done by scurrying white-robed folk.

Turning to Dumbledore, the white robes darkened to black, hood melding into the mass, then the entire shadow outfit molded itself once again into his school uniform, Psi emblem fading on his forehead.

"Now it's time for you to do yours. These men need to be escorted to Azkaban. Will you do it?" Ron inquired of the old Professor.

Dumbledore nodded, "But only if you promise to explain this entire thing."

Ron sent him a blazing smile, for the old man's eyes once again twinkled youth, "Of course! I imagine there is a lot of it to do…"


Epilogue Part!

"The Psi, a group of peoples around the world, have been exposed here. Or rather, have come back from generations of hiding away." Ron said to an enraptured Dumbledore. Both were in Dumbledore's office atop the spiral staircase, sitting on opposite ends of the desk and discussing in detail what this 'entire thing', had been about.

"Around the world there are several squadrons. Squadrons are groups of Psi that come together to train and practice techniques. Here in England there is the Skull Squadron, Junior and Senior. For the past two years, I have been the junior's leader.

"In reality, all we've ever done is train. We are continuously preparing for a never-starting war. 'Not allowed to fight until someone with sight leads us to plight,' A Psi child's nursery rhyme.

"Unfortunately, these past days have seen the start of that never-arriving war. This is known because I have in Psi terms, achieved sight. I am the first to do so in a long, long time. Over three centuries has past since my predecessor gained he eye. Rest assured, though, Professor, we Psi man no harm to the wizarding world. The only ones able to fight at all fight for you, because I'm the only one to lead them." Dumbledore was fascinated immediately, and preceded to ask questions about their attack abilities.

"During the battle, what exactly did you use?"

Ron grinned, all boys played with toy guns as children. "Our method of communication is mind speak; basic telepathy. Next there are low-powered attacks that we can use, but most don't have specific names. Barriers are just what they sound like, invisible walls impenetrable to attack, magic or physical. Earth walking is just becoming one with the earth and then controlling the limited part that is yourself. The bluefire hell, well, that's a secret kept within the Psi." Dumbledore sat back and let Ron go for the day, or rather, until he digested this chunk of information and thought up a new batch of questions.

Ron exited the spiral staircase, and followed the gray stone corridors to the entrance hall. Stepping out of the great oak doors, he was surprised at nearly running into Harry, who with Hermione was just heading in.

Ron ducked his head to push past them; he did not want to see what kinds of looks they were giving him. Finding out your best friend had kept (rather large) secrets from you couldn't have been the best feeling in the world. A small part of Ron argued that they'd understand, but having grown to be somewhat pessimistic, the voice was squashed beneath worry.

A hand coming to rest on his shoulder stopped him. "Ron?" asked Harry.

"By all means Harry, you and Herm should at least not be talking to me." Ron said, a bit colder than he meant to.

"Now why would we do that?" said Hermione. "You kicked the arses—Don't look at me like that I can say it too, you know—The arses of an army of Death Eaters! If there's something more I could like you for, I'd personally enjoy learning what it is." Her speech delivered, short but heartfelt, Ron felt his lips quirking into a smile. Harry clapped him on the back a couple of times to signal his approval and Ron encircled them both into a bear hug.

"So," grunted Harry from the tight embrace, "Can you do tricks?"

"Hmm, do you want to see what'll happen when Malfoy is convinced his hair is purple?"

ENDE!


It's too long! Oh well, I've never been good at falling action. It's all about the climax, I can' t do too much else well enough. My rhythm is all off, it's just bad. But hey! It's over!

ME!