Disclaimers: Harry Potter and his world belong to J.K. Rowling and to her assorted publishers, not to me. Antonia Dumarest is mine, as are the assorted Snape and Dumarest relatives, and may be used with permission; e-mail me.
Spoilers: All five HP novels.
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PRELUDE TO WAR—SUMMER
(Sunday, 14 July 1996)
Part One: SUMMER FUN
I.: Arrivals
Ron and Ginny Weasley let go of their Portkey at Hogsmeade Station and headed over to the waiting Hogwarts carriage; Neville Longbottom, who had been Apparated in, met them there.
"Hi—are there any more coming?" he asked Ginny.
"Well, for now it'll just be us, the twins, Harry and Hermione; all of them should already be there," she replied. "Luna's coming later this week or early next week; she won't be back from Sweden until then."
"Yes, I will," said a voice behind Ginny.
All three Gryffindors spun around. "Luna!" Ginny cried. "What happened? We thought you'd still be in Sweden!"
"Well, we did too—but we found an entire herd of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks almost right off, and Daddy convinced the Swedish Ministry to make them a protected species," Luna replied. "It'll all be in the next edition of the Quibbler. Then he got an owl from the Headmaster inviting me to come back early, and said I could do that directly; this way I didn't even have to unpack from Sweden." She indicated the carriage. "My things are loaded in already."
All four climbed into the carriage for the ride up to the school.
"I can't believe I agreed to this," Neville told Ron as they rode.
"I can; it's the three weeks before the summer Potions session that I'm looking forward to," Ron replied. "Look—flying combat classes, exploring the school—it'll almost make the time with Snape worthwhile."
"And the Junior Order," Neville added quietly.
"Besides, there'll be a lot more of you when the class starts," Ginny pointed out. "Didn't you say Parvati and Seamus are in on that class?"
"Yes, and a fair number of other folks, including Slytherins," Neville replied. "Everyone who got an E on their Potions OWL was invited; not everyone will have accepted. That means probably Malfoy won't be in it, or Hermione; they will have both gotten Os."
"Well, with five of us Gryffindors, and my twin brothers, we can endure Snape for a month or so," Ron replied. "They're here for a revision to sit their NEWTs, since they left before the NEWTs were given."
"Also, there's supposed to be a summer DA for those who were members last year and are here this summer," Neville said. "All of us will be in it, I guess. But what are you and Luna going to be doing here, Ginny? You're Fifth-Years and haven't even taken your OWLs."
"We're getting a couple of the extra-credit seminars," Ginny replied. "I won't be in Potions with you boys, but I'll be in the summer DA and the aerial combat course. We'll also be in the Junior Order."
"And I'll be working with Professor Flitwick; some of what he wants he needs another Ravenclaw for," Luna added.
At the main entrance, Professor McGonagall greeted them. "Welcome, all of you," she said. "Leave your bags and your pets; the House Elves will take care of them. You'll all be up in the Gryffindor Sixth-Year dormitories; there will not be enough of you here to need to divide you by age, and until more Ravenclaws arrive, it is senseless to make Miss Lovegood stay in Ravenclaw alone. Dinner is in one hour, at six, in the Staff Room; I presume you all know where that is?" At the nods from Ron and Neville, she continued. "Then I suggest you go up and clean up for dinner; the password is 'Summer Fun'." She managed a wry smile. "Needless to say, I did not select it; the Headmaster did. He has his reasons, no doubt. I will see you at dinner."
"He always has reasons," Luna said softly, as they turned and headed for the staircase leading to Gryffindor Tower. "It's that his reasons are his and not just anyone's."
The four went on up the stairs; when they arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, they gave the summer password. Upon entrance to the Common Room, they were surprised to see none other than Harry sitting there on a couch, reading. Hearing them enter, he rose and turned to greet them with a smile.
"Hi, all!" he said. The others surrounded him, all asking questions at once.
"Hold on, guys—I can only answer one at a time!" Harry managed to get out after getting hugged by first Ginny, then Luna, then surprisingly, Ron. When they freed him, he went back to the couch and sat down; Ron and Ginny immediately flanked him and Neville sat across from him in a chair; Luna pulled up a footstool and sat near Neville's chair.
"Right," he began. "Fred and George are already here; you know we'll all be sharing the Sixth-Year dorm with them. Well, not you, Ginny and Luna," he added, as Ron's ears pinked and Ginny giggled; Luna's usual bemused expression didn't change. "You'll be in with Hermione; she arrived this morning and she'll meet us at dinner. There's a new Professor; I've only met her once so far, but she seems pretty decent; I think she's older than Professor McGonagall, though."
"How long have you been here?" asked Ginny.
"Since last Sunday; it's been quite a week for me. I promise I'll tell you all about it; but I'd rather do it when we're all in one place, and right now Hermione's in the library."
"Why am I not surprised?" muttered Ron, with a little grin, as the others chortled. "I know that was at least one of the inducements for her to come this time—that, and lots of extra credit for her records."
"It was, indeed," Harry agreed. "She barely arrived this morning, and is already asking the Professors what topics they'd like her to begin with." That was met with a lot of smiles and rolled eyes; all of them were quite familiar with Hermione's obsession with anything new to study.
II: Dinner and Discussions
The students made their way to the Staff Room. The Sixth-Years knew where it was as they had been in it before in Third Year, when Professor Lupin had used the room for Boggart lessons. The first person that the newcomers noticed when they came in was a stranger: a tall, slender, quite elderly Witch with very dark eyes and long, straight, iron-grey hair, tied back in a braid. Harry led all of them over to her and made introductions.
"Professor, these are my friends and fellow Gryffindors, Ginny and Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom; and this is Ravenclaw Luna Lovegood. You've already met Hermione Granger, and Fred and George Weasley. You lot, this is Professor Antonia Dumarest; she came here from the United States a couple of days ago, but I haven't yet heard what she's teaching." He turned a questioning look to the Witch, who gave him a kind smile.
"I didn't say, did I?" Her accent wasn't one any of them recognized as American. "I'm the new adjunct Potions Mistress. Your Professor Snape is going to be busy this summer, and busier this fall; I'm his new helper. But come—I think they're ready to serve." She led the students to the one long table in the room, and indicated their places along one side.
Dinner was as generous and varied as if it were in the Great Hall. The students wondered about their new Professor, so Ron began with what had been on his mind since the introduction.
"Ma'am? Are you related to the Dumarest Apothecaries family?" asked Ron.
The Professor gave a light laugh. "You could say that, Mr. Weasley," she replied. "I married the man who was Head of Family and owned that company when it was still based in France. It was we who saw what both Grindelwald and Hitler were up to, and left; Grindelwald wanted the company any way he could get it, and Hitler had no use for magical folks unless they conformed to his orders, his notions of race, and his Aryan-supremacist master plan—which is far too close to what Tom Riddle is up to, thank you very much, with his Pureblood bigotry nonsense. I got enough of that from my father and younger brother, which is why I left and married out of country. There's another parallel I find ironic with both Hitler and Riddle: are any of you well enough versed in Muggle history to tell me what it is?"
Hermione answered that one (as everyone was certain she could). "Neither of them are, or were, what they professed to hold superior," she replied. "Riddle is a halfblood; his father was a Muggle. Hitler was short and dark, not at all the tall, blond Nordic type he favored."
Professor Dumarest smiled. "Full marks, Miss Granger," she said happily. "I say that this is evidence for the Muggle Studies course needing to be upgraded, to include recent Muggle history. There are too many lessons for us to learn from them. Minerva, now I see what you meant by why the Pureblood bigots despise her; she's smarter than they are!" Hermione blushed, as Professor McGonagall favored her with a smile.
The conversation, thankfully, turned lighter; upon being asked, the new Professor told a few stories of life in the Wizarding United States, and asked questions about Hogwarts. It transpired that she was a Hogwarts alumna herself.
"Yes, I went to Hogwarts, a long time ago," she said with a smile. "I was in Ravenclaw, quite a few years before Professor Flitwick became the Head of House here or even taught. This was, of course, before I was married to Robert; he was French, and our children went mostly to Beauxbatons, as he did. But when we immigrated to the United States, we sent our children to the best of the American Wizarding schools: Salem in Massachusetts, and White Mountain in California. Our grandchildren and further descendants have gone to most of the better Wizarding schools in the States; those of Robert's family who did not leave France, or who returned there after Grindelwald and Hitler both were defeated, went to Beauxbatons for the most part. One of them was one of the girls who came to your Tri-Wizard Tournament."
"So, what brought you back here?" asked Ginny.
"I came back to help Albus Dumbledore with various matters, including teaching here, because of the war," Professor Dumarest replied. "I couldn't do anything the first time around with Riddle, because that was about when Robert had just died and I was still running the business alone; I had my hands full. But now, I see what is happening; I have nothing better to do with my time, and I offered to help. As I told your Headmaster, who, by the way, is an old and dear friend: I am neither too old to stir a cauldron nor to aim a wand. Among my other qualifications, I am still a certified ParaMediwitch: that is something between a nurse and a full Healer. I will be assisting your Madam Pomfrey in the Infirmary when she comes back from her summer holiday, and I'll be the on-call nurse until then." Conversation then stopped while the dessert was brought in.
After dinner, Dumbledore rose from his seat. "Now that we are all decently fed, I would like to return to your Common Room with you, to discuss some of what we are doing this summer." He led the seven Gryffindors and Luna to their Common Room, and when they were all comfortably seated, he cast Silencing Charms and began.
"I need to explain some of the further consequences of your excursion to the Ministry last month," he began soberly. "While we suffered a cruel loss, and all of you were injured in some way, yet there was one major gain: Lord Voldemort was exposed as alive and well, in the presence of the Minister himself. Cornelius Fudge cannot deny it any longer; he saw Voldemort with his own eyes. This is why the Ministry is finally taking some action; you may have seen the notices in the Prophet. However, we now have a new problem: the Death Eaters saw all of you, and while most of them are now in Azkaban, there was one rescued by her Master: Bellatrix Lestrange. There is also no guarantee that the others will stay there, either. It is certain that you will be targets, more so than you were. All of your parents and guardians were told as much as they are able to understand, and have consented to your return here for the summer for extra training with specialized instructors." He turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, there is a reason why I referred only to a summer DA in front of your parents; apart from Mr. Lovegood, they are the only ones of all your parents and guardians who are not in the Order of the Phoenix."
Hermione turned a confused look to Harry. "But surely Harry's Muggle relatives aren't…"
"Are no longer in the picture," Dumbledore cut back in smoothly. "Much has happened the last week or so. I will let Mr. Potter tell you as much as he wishes, but there are two things you all need to know now about his situation: first, that he has been removed from there permanently, and second that he has new guardians: Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody. Both of them are in the Order, in fact have been since the First War."
Ron grinned; he had heard this already from his parents, but still approved. "Wicked," he said softly. He liked Lupin and was somewhat in awe of Moody. Harry managed a small smile.
"That brings me indirectly to the other real reason you are all here, apart from your safety, and the real research you are going to be doing: I intend, as I have already told most of you, to form a junior or auxiliary Order, for those of you who are underage but have something to contribute and wish to do so. You will not be sent on combat missions or do spying, but you can do research, learn defense, and in general prepare for your roles in the Order when you come of age. This will help us in two ways: you will truly be ready when it is time for you to join, and it will take some of the burden off the adults now. We have not so many members that we can afford to waste talents such as yours."
"So, how much of what you told Mum and Dad was true?" Hermione asked.
"All of it, Miss Granger: I merely did not tell them all there was to tell; I dared not. The less they know about the Order and what you are up to, the better off they will be, and the less they can tell. There will be increased security measures around their home and office as well, but they will be discreet ones."
Dumbledore considered for a moment, and then continued. "I will tell you more than I told them, simply because it is you who will be involved. I do intend you to do research for us, so that the adults may use their time for more active roles. I do intend you to help Professor Snape with a special project I have for him. You are the best of the four of you Sixth-Years in Potions, and this is one potion I especially desire to have made; I also intend Professor Dumarest to help with this. I have not decided how I shall apportion the summer restock work, over and above what will be gleaned from the class; but possibly all of you can help with that."
Ginny had been quiet through all this; she now spoke up. "Professor, did you mean what you said at the house, about reopening the Chamber of Secrets?"
"Yes, I did," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Normally during the summer, the staff goes home and only a few of us are here until about a week or so before term; I am usually one who does go home. That will not be the case this summer: we will all have something to do. My personal project for this summer, impelled by the impending war, is to see to it that Hogwarts is in fact as well as in legend the safest place in our world. As you and Harry know, more than the others, Tom Riddle is well-acquainted with the Chamber; I intend to see to it that there is nothing therein that he can use against us. I also intend to borrow the Marauders' Map; I already have permission from the heirs of the Marauders to do so. I understand that most of you are at least familiar with it?"
"I'm not really, Sir," Neville said quietly, "but I know that it's a magical map of the school."
"You will become acquainted with it, Mr. Longbottom," Dumbledore assured him.
"Uh, Professor," Fred began, "the Map shows seven secret passages out of the school to Hogsmeade—"
"Of which Mr. Filch knows four, and one is blocked," George finished.
"That many?" Neville asked in surprise.
"This is why I wish to study the Map myself: I intend to make a better one, to the end of blocking those passages, and any others, to hostile entrance," Dumbledore replied. "I know that the Marauders made it for fun, and wished it to be an aid to mischief: but they made it too well, and now it is a liability if it falls into the wrong hands. One of them is a traitor, knows of the Map, and likely knows enough of its contents to be a danger to us. What he knows, then likely Riddle does too." No one asked for explanations; most of them knew who "Mr. Wormtail" was.
Silence fell over the group; surprisingly, it was Neville who broke it. "How and when do we join the Order, Professor?"
Dumbledore turned to him, and looked directly into Neville's brown eyes. "Is this your true desire, Mr. Longbottom?" he asked quietly.
Neville was unwavering. "It is, Sir," he replied, matching the old man's gaze steadfastly.
"And is it your own desire, or another's?"
"It is my own, Sir. It is part of why I agreed to come here this summer. Mum and Dad were in it, weren't they?"
"Yes, they were." Dumbledore considered for a minute, and then stood. "Very well. If you are not too tired, I will convene such of the Order as are here or can come easily, and we will induct those of you who pass our scrutiny tonight. The sooner we begin, the sooner we will have results. Put on plain school robes or the equivalent; be ready in an hour or so." He bowed slightly, and left.
III: Questions and Answers
When the portrait hole had closed after the old Headmaster, Ron turned to Harry. "Right, mate," he began, "you promised to tell all when Hermione got in here. She's here now, so talk."
Harry rolled his eyes a little, but smiled anyway; he knew that he wouldn't be able to put off his friends any longer. "All right," he agreed. "But if I'm to spend time talking, I want a drink on hand."
As if on cue, a "pop" was heard. "Harry Potter Sir is asking for a drink! Dobby would gladly bring anything that Harry Potter Sir wishes to eat and drink!" Dobby, the rather excitable House-Elf, was almost bouncing in his eagerness.
"Dobby, how about a round of Butterbeers if we have any, or pumpkin juice if we don't," Harry replied. "We just had dinner, so we don't really need anything else."
In a few moments, all the teens had cold drinks on hand. "Be sure to call Dobby if Master Harry Potter Sir wishes anything else!" Dobby said, and then vanished.
Fred shook his head. "Remind me to never hire him to help Mum," he commented. "Can you imagine the two of them arguing it out in the kitchen?" The other Weasleys grinned.
"What if I were to hire him for the Black Mansion?" asked Harry.
"He'd love it," Hermione enthused. "All that work for him to do, and you'd treat him so much more fairly than anyone else would!"
"But what about Kreacher?" asked Ron.
"Well, that's part of what I have to tell you all…" Harry began. "I just don't know where to start."
"At the beginning?" suggested Luna.
"How about first why you left Privet Drive?" added Ginny.
Harry took a deep breath, and began. "All right. But you have to agree not to argue about it, or interrupt much, until I'm all done. A lot happened, and it all started a week before last Friday." He looked over at Neville and Luna. "There are a lot of things I'm going to refer to that you may not know about yet; ask one of us later for details if you don't understand." Both nodded.
Harry began telling of the letters he wrote, and to whom; about Snape's he only said, when asked why, "I was discussing some matters private to us; I'd prefer to keep his privacy. I also was asking for assistance in some other matters." He continued with the visit on Sunday from the three Professors, confirming Remus Lupin's reinstatement, and mentioning the return of his Firebolt; then he continued with the incident with Dudley and the Muggle police, which encouraged his Professors to take him out of there.
"I wish I'd been awake to see them with the Dursleys," Harry said wistfully. "Remus told me that it was something to see. First Snape gave them a generous dose of the full Professor Snape treatment; then the Headmaster laid into them."
Ron was shocked. "Snape tore into those gits?" he asked. "Why? I think they'd be just his type, considering how they treat you!"
Harry shook his head. "Ron, you have to remember one thing: no matter what else he is, he's a Wizard, and a Dark Pureblood at that. They're Muggles related to a Wizard who are anti-magic bigots; that's the very sort of Muggles that Salazar Slytherin most despised."
He took another breath, and continued. "See, before Uncle Vernon showed up, Snape and I…well, we agreed to call things even between us. Half of why he hated me so was because of me looking like my Dad, who with Sirius were his worst enemies in school, much like Malfoy and me, but to whom he owed a Life-Debt that was never paid. I offered to let his saving me from Quirrell jinxing my broom in First Year count as me owing him, so we could call it even. We even did a formal agreement, and Remus, Dumbledore and Fawkes witnessed it. In that, at least, we're even now. I also told all three of them the entire truth about the…rebirth, even more than the interview had; in fact, I showed it to them, using Professor Dumbledore's Pensieve, and I think I now have some of his respect." He ignored the gasps of surprise. "Then there was Mum; while he hated Dad, he's never once said a bad word about Mum; I think he respected her or something. Something about Aunt Petunia reminded him of someone he didn't like, and not at all of Mum. And no matter how much he and Dad detested each other, I'm still a Wizard, and therefore should not be mistreated by Muggles."
"That's a common attitude among Purebloods, especially Old Family types," Neville offered. "What is acceptable for Wizards to do with children is not acceptable coming from Muggles."
"Then there was Dumbledore," Harry continued. "Remus said he had seldom seen him so coldly angry. Now, bear in mind that this was after he found out I'd been one of those that Umbridge cut up with her quill; he's right thoroughly ticked off at her, too."
"What's the word on her, anyway?" asked Ron.
"He told Mum and Dad that she's in a locked ward at St. Mungo's, and if she ever gets out, that she's going to trial for everything she did at Hogwarts, and he's going to prosecute it," Hermione put in. "I hope he never looks at me like that; his eyes went as hard as flints for a moment."
"That's how he was at my place, too," Harry agreed. "He intends for her to pay dearly: not only for what she did at Hogwarts, but for the Dementors too. He considers it a matter of honor now, that children under his care were so abused; no one will ever be allowed to get away with something like that again as long as he's in charge here. Angry is putting it mildly; if I were Umbridge and saw his face, I'd find reason to run away, as far and fast as possible."
George grinned. "You should have heard him at the Order meeting: he said that 'after that fiasco, I could have hired a security troll and gotten better teaching'; and he had the same cold look in his eyes you mentioned." The other teens snickered.
"Yeah—never, but never do I want to get on his wrong side," Fred endorsed. "So then what happened?"
"We came here, this was last Sunday night, and I ended up in Remus' summer staff quarters around the corner from the Fat Lady; there was a room made for me." He went on to tell of the shopping, and then the meeting with Lupin and Moody; this interested all the others, as no one had any idea why Moody was chosen as a guardian. Finally, he got to the reading of the will.
"Fred and George know about it, because they were there," Harry began, "and I hope your parents told you two," he added to Ron and Ginny. They both nodded. "Basically, Sirius was a lot richer than any of us realized; he was the last male Black Head of Family, and the Goblins didn't care about his status in our world, only his wishes." He went on to tell them who had inherited what, and that the Malfoys and Lestranges were disinherited; the others were impressed by the size of the estate.
"He also left us the Black Family's shares in Gambol and Japes," George put in. "We'll be looking over the paperwork for that in the next week or so, and see how much of it we own."
"Yeah—and Sirius mentioned that he'd left us enough money to start a branch of our shop in Hogsmeade," Fred added. "In his words: 'Hogwarts deserves it, and Zonko's deserves the competition.'" This brought on a round of snickers and chuckles from the others; they knew the twins' capabilities for salable mayhem.
"The rest he left to Remus and me, including the house," Harry continued, after letting the snickers die down. "We get Kreacher, too, but Sirius thought that he could be allowed to off himself, or be locked in a cottage with a food supply and all those Black portraits he's so faithful to; he's too dangerous to us. He wrote this in May; he had no idea that Kreacher would betray him to his…his death, and I think Dumbledore is going to consult with the senior Hogwarts house-elves on what the proper procedure is for a house-elf who so badly betrays his rightful Master."
"At least he is taking them and their customs seriously," Hermione said approvingly. "Kreacher deserves due process and appropriate treatment just like any other being, no matter how bad he was." Ron scowled; in his eyes, Kreacher deserved whatever happened to him.
Harry took a deep breath. "What he'll get is whatever is appropriate. Anyway, Sirius tasked Dumbledore with that, so Remus and I don't have to really do anything, I think. I just have to go over there soon, probably this week, and formally take possession; that gives the final seal to the Magical Contract where I inherit in place of the children Sirius didn't have, then my wishes are law. I'm a minor, and Dumbledore is my trustee in the law, but the magical part I have to do myself."
"Can you get Madam Black off the wall, then?" asked Fred.
Harry shrugged. "Don't know, yet. But Dumbledore told me that I have to tell her myself that I'm the heir; maybe she'll be mad enough to fall off in shame."
Although a lot of the information was new to him, Neville had not said much of anything through all of this; however, something finally seemed to occur to him. "Did you say that Sirius Black was the last male Head of the Black Family?" he asked thoughtfully.
"Uh-huh, of the direct line, anyway," Harry replied. "That's how he could disinherit the Malfoys and the Lestranges, which are female lines, and pick me, his Godson, to be his heir."
"One thing I learned from Gran was Wizarding genealogy," Neville replied quietly. "Now, I don't remember many details, but it would seem if that's the case, and you're his declared legal heir, you'll become Lord Black as soon as you come of age next year. That includes a whole set of hereditary rights and obligations." That drew some gasps from the girls, and opened Ron's eyes wide.
"Yes, Sirius put all that in the will, in great detail," Harry replied sadly. "After things settle a bit, I have to look over all the paperwork and get some idea of how I'm supposed to handle it all. If anything happens to me before I'm of age, Nymphadora Tonks is next for the titles and the other Black-line-of-descent stuff. She's his second cousin; her mum's the third sister with Narcissa and Bellatrix, and Sirius un-disinherited her. Then it's Arthur Weasley, followed by the rest of the Weasleys in order; he's a distant second cousin or something. Remus is last, only because he isn't related at all and he can't legally have children owing to him being a Werewolf. Remus and Dumbledore are my trustees until I come of age, anyway; if something happens to them, it's Professor McGonagall and Arthur Weasley for some things and Andromeda Tonks for others.
"Oh—and there's all of the Potter stuff, too, and I will have to look at all of that paperwork. See, the reason nothing was ever done about it was that Sirius was the only trustee, and he couldn't do anything from Azkaban or on the run. The Muggles never knew a thing about any of it, and Dumbledore only had the Gringotts key. Sirius did hand that off to Remus and Dumbledore, and they're to help me wade through that. But one thing he did do is specifically endorse Mum's will, where she disinherited the Dursleys—except there's another trust fund to be set up if Petunia or Dudley have a magical child, so that they can have more of a choice than I did." He shook his head. "All that stuff, just to maintain one person. I think Sirius did right, giving some of it away."
Harry leaned back in the padded chair he was in. "Of course, all this presupposes I'll be here to worry about it. I have a prior engagement that takes precedence over everything else in my life." At the questioning looks from his friends, he replied, "I'll tell you more about that—after tonight, what I'm allowed to tell. There is a great deal going on, and I don't know everything, yet."
IV: Inductions and Introductions
An hour later, the same eight were assembled in the hallway outside the Room of Requirement. All were dressed in plain black school robes, even the twins; this was considered important enough for proper dress.
"Why are you out here with us, Fred?" asked Ron. "I thought you two were already in the Order."
"We are, little brother," Fred replied. "But we're the youngest; we'll be doing the honor guard bit for you to go in with." He looked up, as the door to the Room opened. "I think they're ready for you now."
Professor McGonagall opened the door a bit wider. "Please come in."
Fred led the way in, followed by Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville; George followed behind Neville. The twins led the others to chairs in front of a long U-shaped table, inside the bottom curve; when the younger students were seated, they stood one on each end of the row. Seated at the table on one side were all the Hogwarts Professors who were in the Order and present during this summer: the four House Heads, Lupin, Dumarest and Hagrid. On the other side were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Alastor Moody, Honoria Longbottom, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Nymphadora Tonks; all were soberly dressed except for Dumbledore, whose seat was on the outside of the curve in the center. He stood out in flamboyant red and gold robes with a Phoenix on the back. Perched on a stand on the inner curve of the table was Fawkes, looking remarkably like the Phoenix on Dumbledore's robes.
Dumbledore rose and spoke. "We are convened to judge the first candidates for the new Auxiliary Division of the Order of the Phoenix. While the youth and relative inexperience of the candidates bar them from full membership, they have asked to undertake this responsibility despite that fact. Each candidate has his or her reasons for asking a share of our task. Each one knows the price that we in the Regular Order pay and have paid, and yet they are still willing. Some, in fact, have already paid some of the price at an adult level. This Auxiliary is formed to give such persons a share in the Order's tasks, but a share suited to their capabilities; this is also to be a training ground for the adult Order. In time, this may also be a place for adults who for one reason or another cannot be tasked with a full membership."
He looked at Harry. "Mr. Harry Potter, as this was your idea, you shall be first." He then glanced toward the others. "All of you watch closely; listen to what he will be pledging, and to what will be asked of him. Much the same will apply to each of you, although there will be differences in details. After he has taken his Oath, and if it is accepted, you will have the chance to decline without prejudice before we ask the Oath of you." He turned back to Harry. "If you are still willing to do this, then please rise, come forward next to Fawkes, and hold out your wand towards me, as for a Wizard's Oath; place your other hand on Fawkes' back." Harry rose and did so; Dumbledore drew his own wand and touched its tip to Harry's.
Shacklebolt, Snape, Flitwick and Tonks also stood and drew their wands, but theirs were aimed at Harry. Shacklebolt then said, "Should you prove false or unworthy during this examination, or attempt harm to anyone, you will be dropped where you stand, then Obliviated and removed, never to return. If you are true, no harm shall come to you."
Harry's heart was beginning to race. This was far more solemn than he had expected.
We are Wizards after all, he could almost hear Dumbledore's voice saying in his memory of barely a week ago.
Right, I asked for this; I shouldn't complain that I'm getting what I asked for. And I'd ten times rather face the wands of these four, even Snape, than those of many others I could name. He nodded to Shacklebolt, acknowledging the risk he was taking, and turned back to Dumbledore, who began the formal questions.
"Your name?"
"Harry James Potter."
"Your age?"
"Fifteen, until the end of this month."
"Is it your true desire to join the Order of the Phoenix?"
"It is."
"Is this of your own will, freely given, or that of another?"
"It is of my own free will."
"Your reasons for joining the Order?"
"To fight against Tom Riddle, who calls himself Lord Voldemort, and his allies, until he and his followers are all dead, imprisoned, or otherwise of no further danger to the Wizarding community."
Harry took a deep breath, and continued. "I have already been fighting this war; I have knowingly faced Tom Riddle in some form or another four times since I returned to the Wizarding world at age eleven, and have survived all four encounters. I will continue to do so; he threatens our entire community. He threatens the lives and well-being of everyone I have ever cared about; he has killed, or had killed, my parents and my Godfather, who were also in the Order, along with many other crimes too numerous to mention."
He took another deep breath, and scanned the rest of the solemn faces before him before returning his gaze to Dumbledore. "The Wizarding world has given me everything in life worth having: friends, family, kindness, love and respect. I cannot even begin to pay what I owe, to all the people to whom I owe such a debt. Even if the Order rejects me, or refuses me aid, I will continue this battle, with or without help or permission, until either Tom Riddle dies fully this time, or until I do, or we perish jointly. Nothing less is acceptable."
Silence encompassed the room for a few moments; then Dumbledore spoke again. "What do you pledge to this end?"
"Everything I have," Harry replied. He stood a little straighter and was now meeting Dumbledore's eyes; his own were filled with determination. "All my gold I offer freely, bar enough for the basics of living, to spend as needed for this war. It is worthless to me if we lose due to lack of funding for essential supplies. The Order already has use of my house, and will continue to do so, regardless of this trial today. I have already promised to give all my efforts to learning what I need to know. To that end, I will put aside all that I must: be it school, sport, romance or careers, and remain focused only on the goal. I have already endured pain, scars, and possession, and have nearly died; I will endure more. And before I allow Tom Riddle and his allies to murder the rest of those I love, I will hazard my life, and give it if I must, to make an end of him. Only victory is acceptable."
There was another long silence; Dumbledore's head bowed slightly for a few moments, although his wand hand was still steady. When he raised it again, he looked around at the other Order members. "Is there anyone here who will speak for the candidate's worth?"
Remus Lupin stood. "I, Remus John Lupin, his guardian and Godfather, do so." He drew and raised his wand. "My word and Wand-Oath I pledge, that this candidate is more than worthy; I have known him through his training and his trials, and he is true."
Dumbledore nodded. "Is there anyone here who will speak against the candidate's worth?"
No one spoke. Harry was certain that Professor Snape would at least give a token protest; but the man's face was as impassive as his wand hand was steady. Molly Weasley was also silent, although he could see sadness in her eyes.
After a proper wait, Dumbledore then continued. "There being no objections, I will administer the Oath. Harry James Potter: by your word, on your wand, on your name and Family, and on your honor as a Wizard: do you join with us freely and of your own will?"
"I do."
"Will you follow the orders lawfully given you by your assigned leaders and by me as the Head of the Order?"
"I will."
"Will you carry out your assigned tasks to the best of your ability?"
"I will."
"Will you stand true to your brothers and sisters in the Order, regardless of age, family, status, or House, and lay aside all other quarrels and feuds, until the Order's goal is achieved?"
"I will."
"Will you aid your brothers and sisters in battle and in peace, as they will you?"
"I will."
"Will you accept the protection of the Order, at such times where it is deemed necessary to further the Order's goal?"
"I…will." This was a little more reluctantly spoken.
"Since this Auxiliary to the Order is your idea, are you cognizant of the risks to those of your friends who are witnessing this and will soon stand forth to take the Oath?"
"I am."
"Are you willing to allow them to take the risks that you are taking, as your brothers and sisters in the Order?"
That one was much harder; Harry had to pause a moment or two in order to frame the correct answer. "I will, so long as each one does so of his or her free will; to further the goal, not just because I am doing it; and so long as they receive the same opportunities that I will be receiving. My first and deepest instinct and desire is to protect my friends and loved ones with all that I have and am. I have bitterly come to realize that I cannot do it alone, but I can if we work together to attain the Order's goal. It is not my place to decide for them, to join or to not join. Their lives are at risk whether they join or not; theirs is the free choice."
"Those are in fact the conditions under which they may join us," Dumbledore replied. He paused for a moment, and then continued. "There being no objections, and the candidate answering freely and truthfully: Fawkes?"
The Phoenix stretched out his neck and gave forth with a burst of song. As he had at Harry's house the week before, he touched his beak to the apex of the two wands; a golden flame shimmered down both wands. That was not all; from the apex another golden flame shot out, split, and met the wand-tips of the four guardians and Lupin, joining them all in a net.
"It is decided, it is accepted, and it is witnessed: so mote it be," Dumbledore intoned solemnly. "Harry James Potter, welcome to the Auxiliary of the Order of the Phoenix. Take your seat beside your elder brothers and sisters." He raised his wand; the golden net vanished, and Fawkes quieted. Another chair materialized behind the end of the table next to Tonks; Harry went around and sat there. The table seemed to stretch to accommodate.
Before another hour had passed, all the other students had also been passed and inducted. While the form of the Oath and questions were different for each, the intent was the same: to ensure that each one was entering freely, true to the words he or she spoke and the promises made.
V. Relaxation and Conversations
After all the formalities were done, Dumbledore closed the session; then he converted the large table to two long side-tables along the walls, leaving the chairs. Snacks and drinks appeared upon both tables.
"I think we have earned a small refreshment break," he told the others with a smile. "After all, we need something with which to toast our new members, before we all succumb to the lateness of the hour and retire."
After the toast, led by Dumbledore, older members and younger ones mixed and mingled freely. Mrs. Weasley had teary hugs for all of the teens ("I'm so proud of you all!"); Moody had a few words for each. Hermione and Ginny began chatting with Professor Dumarest, Neville and his grandmother with Professor Sprout, and Luna with Professor Flitwick. The twins had cornered the Headmaster, and were apparently discussing a new bright idea. Only Harry, presumably the most honored guest, did not mingle; after his hug, and a word or two with Lupin, he sat down alone in one of the chairs sipping at a Butterbeer and nibbling on a chocolate biscuit.
Oddly, it was Ron who noticed that, and something else: Harry was quiet and not at all in a party mood. Ron remembered the look in Harry's eyes when he had taken his place at the table (his back had been to the other teens when he took the Oath). Thinking back over what his friend had said earlier that evening, he realized something: this wasn't at all the Harry he was used to, and it wasn't the lost and hurting friend he had left at King's Cross last month. Something had changed, and Ron couldn't put his finger on it—until he realized where the gaps in Harry's narrative were.
It's Snape, he thought, looking over to where that Professor sat alone sipping tea. Why is the man actually acting like a human being for once? For that matter, he was polite at dinner, too; hardly said a word, but didn't snipe or sneer either. And he's never wanted any of us involved in the Order, especially Harry. He hates Harry, despises the rest of us, and wouldn't know how to be kind if he had written directions. This isn't normal. By the timing, either something in the letter Harry wrote, or something that happened when the Professors were at his house, or both, has to do with Snape's behavior: but what? And what does it have to do with Harry? Snape isn't normal, and Harry isn't either; it has to be connected somehow. I've got to talk to him.
Ron went over to where Harry sat alone. "A word, mate?" he asked. Harry nodded; Ron sat down on a chair opposite him.
"All right, Ron, what's up?" Harry asked. "You look…bothered."
Ron was unsure of how to begin; instead, he blurted out, "What's Snape done to you?"
"Huh? Why are you asking that, of all things?" Harry asked in puzzlement. "I told you what happened already."
"Two things: one, it's obvious that you didn't tell us everything, and a lot of it you couldn't talk about. That's fair. But the second thing…"
Ron looked Harry straight in the eyes. "You've changed, mate. You're not who we left at the station, and you're not anything like your usual self. It's only been a month since…since the Ministry, and you're different. You're ready to fight the war all by yourself, if you have to. Well, that's you; you don't like people to get hurt. But the one thing you don't usually do, that you are doing—you're willing to let the Order, which has in it a lot of people you care about, help you. You're giving us a way to help in this, and to train so that we can be there with you when the time comes. That isn't like you."
Harry was silent for a moment, and then he asked, "So what links all that with Snape?"
"You wrote him a letter," Ron replied. "I can see you asking him things having to do with You-Know-Who; he's an expert on that. But then he, Dumbledore, and Lupin all come to see you in person—with the Phoenix—and answer your questions. Then tonight, he's being polite and calm, and not at all snarky with all the folks he usually detests—us, Lupin and any new Potions Professor. Something's off, and I couldn't figure out what, so I guessed from what you said, and what you didn't say, that Snape did or said something to you."
Harry smiled a little. "Actually, it was the other way around; I did do something to him, but I don't understand some of why it affected him so much. I've gained a crumb or two of his respect, and I don't think he was expecting it. For the first time ever—well, I don't think it hurt that Dumbledore and Lupin were there—we discussed matters of mutual interest as one Wizard to another, not as a very intelligent Professor—which he is, never doubt that—attempting to educate a moron. Now, look at him; he's not arguing, he's not sniping, and he's supporting the idea of the Auxiliary Order—when he normally detests it when students know too much, because his life depends on people not knowing."
Ron took a deep breath. "But what did you do to him? The man's been a right bastard for so long I didn't think he could be any other way."
Harry thought for a few minutes. "I'm not sure," he said slowly. "I think something I said in my letter caused him to make up his mind on something, but I don't know exactly what." And I can't hash it out with you without breaking the man's privacy, and I won't do that. "Showing him how Riddle's revival really happened didn't hurt, either; I think he'd never really been told what actually happened. Remember, he was at the school while all that was going on, and couldn't answer the summons right away."
"If he'd been like this at all last year, I'd have said that he's laying an elaborate trap to get you to his Master," Ron replied. "Now, I'm not so sure; he can't be telling You-Know-Who everything any more than he's telling us everything. Dumbledore trusts him, and I could never see why; I'm starting to wonder if maybe there isn't a good reason for it."
Harry searched his memory. "As I remember, from something I learned in Fourth Year, Snape was cleared by Dumbledore in front of the Wizengamot. He has the Mark, yes—but sometime before Riddle fell, he turned to Dumbledore and began informing. How he managed to convince Riddle after the revival ritual that he was still loyal and spying on Dumbledore I don't know, and I'm not sure I want to." He took a deep breath. "He warned me not to learn to care about him, because he expects to be caught sooner or later. He's a lot stronger than people think he is, but everyone has limits."
Ron shuddered. "Given what you've seen of what happens to people that You-Know-Who gets mad at, I see your point." He looked up. "But you haven't really answered my original question, which was what happened to you!"
Harry smiled back. "No, you asked me what Snape did to me, and that isn't all of it. I'm too tired tonight to give it all to you, and I want the rest of them to hear it too. But the essential bit is this: I know now what I didn't know before, what I alone have to do, and that everything else is unimportant. If I want all the things I want for my friends, then I have to grow up and deal with things."
His voice hardened. "And the best way I can get justice for Sirius, and Mum and Dad, is not to waste what they did, but do all I can to bring down Lestrange and her Master. I can't do it alone yet—I saw Riddle and Dumbledore duel in the Atrium, and I'm nowhere near that class—but the help I need is right here: all I had to do was ask, and convince Dumbledore that I was ready for at least some of it."
He yawned and stretched. "And I'm not answering anything else tonight; I'm too tired. Dumbledore's dismissing us. Let's go to bed, and I'll see what happens in the morning."
VI: Other Cauldrons
(Monday morning, 15 July 1996)
The next morning, all the students rose, cleaned up, and headed back to the Staff Room for breakfast.
It was now the day after the Order inductions, in the second week since Harry's dramatic departure from Privet Drive. By now, the Gryffindors and Luna were actually beginning to get comfortable having meals in the Staff Room with those of the Hogwarts staff who were present over the summer. Nearly all of those were in the Order as well, or at least allied with it, so if the conversation sometimes touched on topics best not mentioned elsewhere, it was relatively safe there.
A common sight was seeing various Professors reading their professional journals over morning tea: The Cauldron and Potions Quarterly for the two Potions Professors; Transfiguration Today for Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore (he also read the Potions journals); Quidditch Monthly for Madam Rolanda Hooch (which Ron, Ginny and Harry borrowed after she was done); and Magical Academics for the Headmaster and McGonagall. Hermione also subscribed to several of those, one being Current Issues in Magical Ethics. An article in this journal started an interesting conversation that morning.
"Now, this one I actually agree with," Hermione commented.
"Which one, Miss Granger?" inquired McGonagall.
"It's an article about conservation of magical species," Hermione replied. "The author warns that excessive hunting and gathering may cause serious depletions in many rare species, such as dragons, moonflowers, and dark unicorns. I thought those were already extinct."
"They are, here in Britain, Hermione," rumbled Hagrid. "Over on the Continent there're still some wild herds left, deep in the forests. But it's like fer the regular white ones: yeh're no' supposed ta hunt 'em at all. Who wrote tha'?"
Hermione scanned the byline. "The author is listed as 'Ivan Ivanovitch'. Isn't that the Russian version of our 'John Doe', a universal pseudonym?" She started, as Severus Snape dropped his copy of The Cauldron.
"Did you say 'Ivan Ivanovitch' actually wrote an ethics article? May I see it, please?" He picked up his own journal, laid it on the table, and held out his hand.
Hermione passed it over, a bit bemused by the man's reaction. "Why? Do you know him?"
Snape scanned the article. "Yes, it is he all right." He finished the article, and handed it back to Hermione; he then leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in a gesture that usually indicated he was about to discuss something difficult. "A number of years ago when I was still a student here, I was told, in the course of a lecture on my behavior by my Head of House, to try to find one good quality in everyone I hated or despised. You have just read this man's one good quality: he is indeed serious about magical beast and plant conservation. That is so he will never run out of ingredients."
Most of the rest of the table was now listening with interest. "Uh, Sir?" Ron Weasley put in. "If that's his only good quality, what's the rest of the story? Is this…uh, a pen name for…uh, Riddle?" Hearing Snape discuss something like this made him sound far more human than Ron had ever expected to see.
Snape allowed himself a small smile; it was not a happy one. "Not bad, Mr. Weasley, not bad; you are thinking. Riddle could have written as well-done an article, but he is not so passionate about such things. This is written by one of the foremost Potions Masters in the entire world; I have read many of his articles in the Potions journals, and we have corresponded occasionally. But you are correct on one account, as is Miss Granger; this is indeed a 'John Doe' pen name, a literal translation of 'John Johnson'; he is a Russian, with a German mother. Under his real name, his articles, no matter how good—and he really is a genius—would never be accepted by any reputable journal. As it is, I suspect some of the editors know who he really is, but do not ask. And I would not know his real name, were it not for the…other circles I move in."
"Who is he, Sir? Is he another Dark Lord?" Now Hermione was curious.
Snape shook his head. "Oh, no, Miss Granger," he replied. "While he is at least as Dark as Riddle is, he has no interest in power and rule over others—at least not political power. All he truly cares about is his Potions laboratory: experimenting and inventing. He has money enough to keep the authorities off his back, and to pay for everything he really wants—such as human subjects; that is the only kind of power he cares about."
He turned to Dumarest. "Antonia, do you remember the day Albus introduced us, when I told him that he could put you into my classroom post and get a net gain in competence, as you are a Mistress of at least two ranks above me?"
Dumarest smiled, while the students' eyes widened. Snape had a justifiably high opinion of himself and rarely acknowledged anyone else as his equal, let alone his superior; none of them had ever heard him so complimentary. "I do indeed, Severus," she replied. "I thought you quite the flatterer."
"Merely the truth, Antonia," he snorted. "Ask any of the students here if I am given to flattering anyone, least of all another Potions expert. Well, Ivanovitch is to Riddle what you are to Albus: Riddle could replace me with him at a serious net gain in competence. He is a Master of at least equal ranking to you, as you probably already know, if you follow the journals; he is also only a little over half your age. The only thing that prevents this—and he has been courted—is that he refuses to acknowledge any overlord, or pledge to anyone except himself. He is a mercenary; Riddle buys specialty Potions from him that I am not in a position to make here at a school."
He turned back to Ron, whose eyes widened a little at being directly addressed, and that without an insult or a sneer. "To give you some idea of what he is, Mr. Weasley: take everything you students have ever said, heard or believed about me, including those stories from my own school days with Black and James Potter. Add in everything that you know or imagine about my…'night job'. Multiply it by ten. Everything you ever suspected or believed me capable of, this man is; he has no scruples whatever about sources of ingredients or intentions of the potions he makes—did I also mention he is the world's foremost authority on poisons, both Magical and Muggle?"
Remus Lupin shivered. "Not someone I would ever want to meet, Severus," he commented. The rest of those at the table either winced or nodded.
"You certainly do not," Snape agreed. He picked up the teapot and poured himself a fresh cup. "As a werewolf you would be an interesting experimental subject—while you lived. The only thing that keeps him from prosecution is that he has too much gold flowing to the authorities where he lives; he avoids assassination by a paranoia that Mad-Eye Moody would fully understand. However, as I said, he is not interested in ruling anyone. He does not discriminate between Pureblood, halfblood or Muggleborn, either; all are viable ingredients. But he will never bow down to anyone either; he learned his lesson from his father."
"Now you're piquing my curiosity, Severus," McGonagall said. "Who was his father?"
Snape held up one hand to her in a wait-a-moment gesture, and then turned back to Professor Dumarest. "Antonia, do you recall my grandfather Justinian Snape?"
Dumarest made a face. "Oh, yes; he was his father's son, no question. Brilliant, stubborn, and a Pureblood bigot that made the Blacks look mild. Also a superb Potions Master; too bad he took up with…whom he took up with. We despised each other except in the pages of The Cauldron; he actually had some good ideas, and his technique was sound; but he thought me 'too soft' for being more interested in the uses for medical potions than creating new and bizarre ones for mass destructive uses. This was on top of his despising me for being 'soft on Mudbloods'. I have no doubt that he was hand-in-glove with Grindelwald's chief Potions Master; Robert and I refused to sell or give anything to him after I found out that bit. Had we not decamped when we did, I have no doubt that he would have tried to help Grindelwald take us, family or not."
"He was, indeed, and he would have," Snape agreed grimly. "It is as well that Grandfather is permanently immured in a secure ward in Switzerland, and is unable to frame a coherent thought; otherwise there would have to be…actions taken."
Dumbledore, who had been silent through all of this, now spoke, in a quiet and grave tone underlaid with a touch of iron. "Severus, surely you do not mean that you think Nikolai Alexeyvich Drakon still lives? I know for a fact that he is dead, because I personally saw him die." The expression in his eyes said that there was much more to the story, but that he was not going to tell it. The students were now hanging on every word the adults said.
"He is, indeed: but his son lives, and is if anything worse than the father," Snape replied, equally quietly. "Albus, I know you do not like to be reminded of that time; but this is one leftover with which I hope we never to have to deal."
His voice hardened, into the cold and harsh tone the students were more used to hearing from him. "For understand this: should Dmitri Nikolayevich Drakon, otherwise known as Ivan Ivanovich, ever set foot anywhere near Hogwarts, and I find out, I will summarily execute him in whatever way I can, either Magical or Muggle, and take my chances with the Ministry and the Dark Lord afterwards. He and his father helped to finish corrupting Grandfather and my two uncles and secured their allegiance to Grindelwald; Grandfather is permanently spell-damaged and my uncles were both killed. After you vanquished that Dark Lord, Father began supporting an up-and-comer named Tom Riddle, although he declined to take an active part. Drakon the younger vanished before he could be caught, and retreated to an estate owned by his father's family. This was all long before I was born, but Father told me all about it when I was growing up."
His tome moderated a little. "I will say that I do not think it likely that he would come here: the only thing that would bring him here from his lair somewhere in the Carpathian Mountains would be a chance to capture as many interesting people as he could for his experiments; Hogwarts is known for the variety of its…inhabitants. Lupin and Hagrid would be especially interesting to him, as halfblood Wizards with Magical Creature components. He would also be quite interested in collecting the bounties on yourself and Mr. Potter; I believe you are each up to fifty thousand Galleons dead, and one hundred thousand alive."
He turned to Harry, whose eyes had widened a little at the man's vehemence. "I remember his essay in The Cauldron—some years ago after you and Lily caused Riddle's fall, when everyone was still wondering just what happened—on what kind of Potion could negate the Killing Curse; he could not imagine any other means of doing so, least of all the truth. I think he would gladly forego the bounty if he could have you instead, to find out what made you immune. But he is too security-conscious to leave his lair, let alone try to do it himself; he knows his limitations as a duelist. Instead, he would possibly cut a deal with the Dark Lord to sell some of you to him if He ever conquers this school."
Silence fell over the table, as each person there digested this rather blunt speech. Snape was not normally so outspoken about anyone, still less so around the students, and never spoke about personal or family matters; that he did so this time showed the seriousness of the matter.
Harry broke the silence. "Sir, do you remember a certain question I asked you in my letter, and is this something that this Ivanovich would know of?"
Snape was silent for a moment, considering, while the other students gave Harry puzzled looks. "He might know of similar potions, Mr. Potter, and is certainly well-versed in the type of potion used; but what happened that night also required serious Transfiguration magic," he said thoughtfully but firmly. "I stand by my original opinion, based partly on what was said that night: that Riddle himself wrote or adapted that ritual and potion to his own particular needs. He is a Potions expert, even though not as much of one as he would be if he focused only on that, as Ivanovich has; he is also quite skilled in the other branches of magic, as Ivanovich is not."
Ginny spoke next, quietly. "Professor Dumarest, if I may ask, how is it that you know Professor Snape's grandfather? Are you related?" Privately, she suspected as much; seeing the two together, she had noted the similar black eyes and thin faces.
Dumarest smiled a little. "I was wondering which of you would be observant enough to notice the details first," she replied. "Yes, we are related; his grandfather Justinian was the eldest son, and as far as I know the only one surviving—if you can call it that, considering where he is—of my late younger brother Aurelius Snape. My brother and I never got along; he was a year behind me, in Slytherin, and could never forgive me for being the Eldest instead of him. He also despised me for not upholding the Snape name and honor by being a proper bigot myself, or marrying one, preferably a Black or a Malfoy—those families were every bit as rich and powerful then as now, if not more so—I simply couldn't. I left England, I thought for good, well before the turn of the century, and went to France to study for my Mastery; there I met and married Robert Dumarest. Even though Rob was a French Pureblood and every bit as rich as the Blacks, Aurelius despised my husband for being fair and impartial to all Wizards and Witches regardless of birth or circumstance, and having no bias toward the other Magical races; much as Albus was then, and still is."
"So you knew the Headmaster then, too?" Ginny continued; she was surprised enough to get the first answer that she felt daring enough to ask the next question. She's older than I thought she was. The entire table fell silent; this was more than most of them had ever known about the family of the normally very private and reticent Snape.
"Oh yes," Dumarest answered, with a slightly wider smile. "Albus was two years ahead of me in Gryffindor, while I was in Ravenclaw, but that didn't stop us being good friends; I remember him helping me with something I was revising for my OWLs, even though it was his NEWT year. You hear him call me 'Tish' rather than Antonia; that was my nickname among my friends then, after my middle name. Aurelius despised him, too; never mind that the Dumbledores are as Pureblooded as we Snapes are. It was Albus' inclusive attitude my brother couldn't stand, nor our father or his siblings, for that matter; they were Pureblood bigots that make Lucius Malfoy look like an amateur. Even then, the Wizarding community was arguing over the Pureblood/Muggleborn issue; Albus, Robert and I, all Purebloods, were firmly in one camp, and my father, his siblings, and my brother were in the other camp with the Blacks and the Malfoys."
She turned to Harry, still with a smile. "And I think it would really have infuriated all those stuck-up bigots to see the last of the Black line not only turn out to be a Light Wizard, but make you his heir for the name and the title; they didn't think much of the Potters even then, and the feeling was mutual. You having a Muggleborn mother would have made you even more anathema. But one thing I will say of them: had they lived until now, their bigotry would have set them against Tom Riddle for being a halfblood, and a commoner at that; I understand that his Witch mother was a village girl, and it was the Muggle Riddles who were something of the local moneyed family. Grindelwald was a Pureblood, from one of the great German Wizard lines.
"Now, since I had gone to France to study for my Mastery, and there met and married Robert, Aurelius got the house, the lands, and the family inheritance; not that I wanted any of it, anyway, as Rob had more than enough. By the time it got down through Justinian—who went down, albeit non-fatally, with Grindelwald and Drakon the elder—to Severus' father Marcus, who was the youngest son, the family was not so numerous or so high in society that they could do anything major by themselves, so they did what the Malfoys did: allied themselves with the most powerful Dark Wizard around, despite his lack of proper blood status, in return for letting him deal with Albus when it came to the crunch. Things didn't work out that way, and considering who and what Mr. Potter is I think all of you here know the rest of that story."
VII: In the Air (Later Monday morning, 16 July 1996)
When breakfast was over, Hermione and Luna headed for the library, and most of the rest trooped down to the Quidditch pitch for some exercise before Professor Flitwick began his seminar. Harry joined them a few minutes later.
Aerial combat from broomsticks was not a new concept; but Filius Flitwick had thought that there were ways of integrating that with the castle's own defenses. The many towers gave perfect staging, observation and landing points. The Quidditch pitch was a possible target, should anything happen during a game, and the only way to decently defend it was from the air.
All of the students were Quidditch veterans, except for Neville. He had rarely flown since his disastrous first year, and needed to get at least competent on a broom. He would not be in the aerial team, but it had been pointed out that a broom was the fastest method for him to get from plant to plant when arming the defensive plants he and Professor Sprout were planning. So, the first part of the day he spent with Madam Hooch, getting brought up to speed on one of the better school brooms; by lunchtime, he was even able to fly with one hand and hold his wand in the other.
As they went in to lunch, Harry asked Neville, "Do you even own a broom? If you're to use it in combat, a school broom just isn't enough, and you need full-time access to it. You might not be able to get to the broom shed in time."
"No," Neville replied. "Gran thought that it would be unsafe for me to have one, and since I don't play Quidditch I really didn't need one here."
"I think you should get one—something reliable like a Cleansweep Eleven or such," Harry said. "I've had an idea about Quidditch. You know that we'll have to figure out a way for game security. What about if some of the DA were in the stands, with shrunk and pocketed broomsticks, all ready to back up the players in case of an attack? And if you were one of them, they'd never expect it."
"And it would get the fighters out of the stands and up high to see what the problem was," Neville nodded. "I like that, except then the flyers are easy to pick out."
"Ah—but remember what Professor Flitwick said," Harry reminded, as the two went up the stairs to the Staff Room. "'A moving target is harder to hit than a stationary one.'"
After lunch, however, Harry waved the other students on. "Go on without me this time," he said. "There is still some stuff I have to do at the house with the Headmaster, and it's likely we won't be back for a few hours." He turned the other way, and headed up to the Headmaster's office.
The afternoon was spent doing an aerial survey of the entire castle: height of the Towers, where the castle perimeter wards began and ended, the relationships between the Front Doors and certain landmarks on the grounds: the Whomping Willow, the Quidditch pitch, Hagrid's cabin, and the lake. Professor Flitwick showed the teens several useful Charms: triangulation charms to detect the height of distant objects, measuring charms for height and length, and ward detectors to check for breaches in the castle's safety wards (the ones which prevented serious injuries in case of falls from the Towers). This was the sort of flying even Neville could manage.
Ron told them of the tunnel from the Willow to Hogsmeade's Shrieking Shack. "Only problem is that you have to get close enough to trigger the knot that freezes the Willow," he admitted. "You can use a long stick, but it's still not that safe."
"And then you go in and down the tunnel and it comes out in the Shack, right?" asked Flitwick. "Wasn't that where Professor Lupin went when he was a student?"
"Uh-huh," agreed Ron. "That's why the Willow was planted—to hide the tunnel to Professor Lupin's safe room for his transformations. This was before the Wolfsbane Potion. Problem is that Professor Lupin's three best friends knew about it too: and one of them was Peter Pettigrew, who would open that knot in his rat form so Lupin and the others could get in safely. He's now a Death Eater, so it's probable that Riddle knows about it too."
Flitwick took out the aerial chart. "So, if it goes to the Shack…it must go roughly this way…" He traced out a line from the point marked "Willow" south to the edge of the grounds line.
"That's one," he said, as he added a note, "To Shrieking Shack". "I suspect we ought to lay some traps at the Shack itself. Now, Fred, didn't you two say that there are seven passages on the Map leading from the castle itself?"
"Well, yes," Fred replied. "Those are all the ones the Marauders knew about, anyway. One is the one from the Willow. Mr. Filch knows about four of them; the one behind the fourth-floor mirror is blocked. How far the blockage goes, we don't know. The one from the third floor behind the humpbacked witch goes to the cellar at Honeyduke's. Oh—and the Map also shows the passwords to the hidden doors."
"But the Marauders didn't know about the Chamber of Secrets," Flitwick replied. "Also, I think there are one or more in the dungeons, known to Professor Snape but not to the Marauders. I am fairly certain that he uses one as a discreet exit for his 'night job'."
"Well, considering Riddle was a Slytherin too, he probably knows at least some of them," Ginny pointed out.
Flitwick nodded. "This is why we are doing this: so that we may deny him the use of any knowledge he does have," he said gently. "Professor Snape has agreed to tell us of any he knows, and the Headmaster will be canvassing the portraits and the ghosts for anything they remember."
George sighed. "Damn Riddle for starting this mess, so that we have to give up such a precious secret to the teachers," he said mournfully. "No one will be able to sneak out and buy Butterbeer for parties any more."
Neville was more practical. "But George, no one will be able to sneak in and abduct or kill anyone, either," he pointed out. "I mean, Sirius Black managed to get in somehow."
"Ah—but you forget, or maybe didn't know, one important item." Ron put in. He pulled out the Marauders' Map, which Harry had left for him to use in his absence. He tapped it with his wand, and incanted the password; the title page revealed itself. "Sirius was one of the Marauders: he's the 'Mr. Padfoot' on the Map; he was an Animagus, with a form of a large black dog." He pointed out the authors' names. "He would have that knowledge. Unfortunately, so was 'Mr. Wormtail', Peter Pettigrew; and he lived in either Percy's or my dorm for seven years—four with Percy and three with me, plus the seven years he was here as a student with Harry's Dad and Mum and Sirius and Professor Lupin. He's more dangerous as a spy; his Animagus form is small enough to go a lot of places even a cat can't go. If you remember my rat Scabbers—that was Wormtail."
"But the ghosts can," Flitwick pointed out. "Now, who were 'Mr. Moony' and 'Mr. Prongs'?"
"Remus Lupin and James Potter, who was a stag Animagus," Ron replied. "And any more you want to know about it you should be asking either Harry or Professor Lupin; it's not mine to tell."
"So—these four boys created this wonder, and three of them became Animagi, all the while they were still students here—and managed to hide it from the teachers, and Professor Dumbledore?" Flitwick said, with wonderment in his voice. "And one of them was Head Boy, and married one of the most brilliant Charms students I have ever had—that was Lily Evans."
"Yes—and one of them became a Death Eater and betrayed his friends," Ginny reminded them.
Flitwick shook his head sadly. "I agree with the Headmaster: the waste of the young lives of the students, both then and now, is one of the greatest evils that You-Know-Who is committing," he said. "I didn't know either James or Sirius as well as I did Lily, but I don't think they would begrudge the use of the Map for this, if by it we can prevent the loss of as many of the current generation as we lost of theirs in the last War."
"Especially considering that one of that generation is the only son of the Marauders," Ron agreed.
"And call him 'Tom Riddle', Professor," Ginny said firmly. "That's his real name and it doesn't scare anyone. He wants everyone to fear his name. The Headmaster says 'Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself'. I knew him as Tom; and Harry is now refusing to use any of the pseudonyms, including his own, as he isn't really a 'Lord' of anything."
Flitwick's eyes widened. He knew, of course, of Ginny's horrific experience in her first year, but didn't know many details. "I will do my best, Miss Weasley," he replied gently, "but it is difficult to overcome decades of habit."
"You can," she encouraged. "Besides, you're a Head of House; that way, you can encourage your House to follow along. We had a number of Ravenclaws in the DA, not just Luna. If you give them that example, they'll support you."
The Professor was silent for a minute. "As I said, I will try," he said at length. "But it is hardest for those of us who remember the horrors of the First War so plainly." The sparkle was no longer in his eyes, and sadness seemed to overcome his usual cheer.
"There's also this," Neville said thoughtfully. "Didn't you say that this Map sees through Polyjuice, Animagi, and Invisibility Cloaks?" At the nods from all the Weasleys, he continued. "So, say, if Pettigrew came here in his rat form, he'd be listed as 'Peter Pettigrew', not 'Wormtail', right?"
Ron nodded. "That's how Lupin spotted him, our third year. Sirius had seen his picture as a rat and recognized his form, but Lupin saw his name on the Map—and he was supposed to be dead."
"Right," Neville agreed. "So—if He comes here—how will He show on the Map? As Tom Riddle or Lord
Voldemort?"
That brought a few moments of silence, broken by Ginny. "I don't think it matters," she said. "If we see either name there, we know it's Tom, and act accordingly." The others nodded agreement.
Fred put the conversation back on track. "So—which one of the passages do we check out next?" he asked.
"I think I want to know first which ones Mr. Filch knows of," Flitwick said after a long moment of thought. "He is a Squib, as you well know; he cannot resist a magical interrogation, should he be taken by either the Death Eaters or the Ministry. There is also this: after this last year, the Headmaster does not fully trust him. He alone of the staff gave Dolores Umbridge his full support, in exchange for her indulging him on punishments. You left in good time, Fred and George; he had an 'Authorization for Whipping' for you two. For these reasons, he will not be admitted into the Order; he will also have an assistant this year, also a Squib, Arabella Figg. She is in the Order and has been since the first War. She and her cats will work much as he does, but will be privy to more information."
"And she'll be watching him, too?" George asked quietly. "Harry doesn't trust him, either, and neither do we."
"As will others," Flitwick replied. "On the other hand, he knows this castle better than almost anyone; the Headmaster will be tapping his knowledge." He nodded at the Map. "Shall we?"
Fred and George pointed out one of the known passages, and Flitwick made a note on his aerial map. Consolidating information took them up until almost dinnertime.
"We'd better break now," Ron pointed out. "Harry never did come back, and we need to be able to get Hermione and Luna out of the Library." The others grinned, and almost as one, they retired to the Staff Room for dinner.
