Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the HP books, it belongs to Rowling. If you recognize it from Greek mythology, it belongs (at least, the version I'm familiar with belongs) to Homer.
Author's Note: Is it even worth apologizing for the delay on this chapter? Probably not, but I'll do it anyway: Sorry, sorry, sorry for taking so long on this one. Mea culpa, lashings of apologies, etc, etc. If the folks who read and reviewed previous chapters have long since given up, I won't blame them a bit. Anyway, for the handful of you who are still around, here it is. This one has elements of what Angua calls an "infodump;" I hope the exposition doesn't drag too much. Tthough it probably isn't required background reading, the Muggle Studies class scene will likely make more sense if you've read The Iliad. Tune in for a post-OotP, welcome-to-AU-characterization Author Note at the end. Thanks, as always, to my wonderful beta-reader, Yolanda, and to my lovely reviewers!
Chapter Thirteen--The Order of the Phoenix
With Quidditch practise, Prefect duties, O.W.L.s study, and classes, Harry felt like he barely had time to breathe in the week that followed the Gryffindor try-outs. He made time to go to the Ravenclaw and Slytherin try-outs, and he and his friends took the night of 19 September off to celebrate Hermione's birthday, but, aside from that, the days seemed to blend together in a haze. The rapid pace of fifth-year life almost gave Harry a chance to feel like a normal student with normal worries. Almost.
The first public reminder that the world, as it currently stood, was far from normal came in the class where Harry would least have expected it: Muggle Studies. They'd been discussing The lliad since the start of term, and Harry had been enjoying this slice of ancient Greek life. It was a war that wasn't black and white; there were good people on both sides of the battle, and even the heroes had some human failings. The class was still deeply divided in its opinion of Achilles. Several of the students, particularly some of the girls, found him a braggart, while others insisted that, as the hero of the Greek forces, he deserved to have a high opinion of himself. They had discussed other aspects of the story, of course, but the Achilles debate popped up in some form at least once a week, and it turned rather heated one Friday afternoon.
Morag McDougal was in the middle of one of her weekly anti-Achilles rants, which she finished with, "…and if he'd been out doing his job instead of pouting in his ship, his best friend might still be alive."
Justin, as usual, came to Achilles's defence. "I say, Morag, that's hardly fair. Patroclus made his own decision. He asked Achilles to lend him his armor. He asked to go fight."
Cedric didn't ask to go, Harry thought. I talked him into it.
"And did Achilles try to talk him out of it?" Morag countered. Answering her own question with barely a pause, she continued, "Oh, no. Achilles said, 'Sure, take my armor. Here, let me help you with it. Let me dress you up and send you out like a lamb to the slaughter.'"
Take my armor. Take the Cup. Both of us. We'll take it at the same time. Harry slunk a little lower in his seat, hoping that no one else's thoughts were following the same lines as his own.
"Patroclus was no 'lamb to the slaughter,'" Justin replied. "He was a soldier. Soldiers fight, and sometimes they die. Yes, it's horrible, and, yes, it's tragic, but that's what war is."
Harry could feel a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. But we weren't soldiers, and it wasn't supposed to be a war.
"But soldiers aren't supposed to fight and die alone. They're supposed to have their comrades fighting beside them." Morag wasn't backing down.
Gripping the edge of his desk so hard that his knuckles turned white, Harry kept up his silent role in the conversation. I was beside him. I just didn't know we were supposed to be fighting. I didn't know.
Justin wasn't backing down, either. "Patroclus was hardly alone. Aside from Achilles, the entire Greek army was there."
"Aside from Achilles … and Odysseus, and Agammemon, and Diomedes," Morag listed, ticking off the names on her fingers, "and all the other good fighters who were sidelined with wounds. The Trojans had been mowing down Greeks left and right all day, and the only big-name fighters left were Ajax and Patroclus…."
"…and that whacking great team of Myrmidons that Achilles sent them," Justin interrupted. "The Myrmidons were enough to push the Trojans back from the ships. That's all that Patroclus was supposed to do—Achilles specifically told him to come back after the ships were safe—but he decided to keep pushing forward. Yes, he made a bad decision that cost him his life, but it was his own bad decision. It's simply not on to blame Achilles for that."
It wasn't his decision. It was my idea.
Su Li, who loved to try to get a rise out of her classmates by saying outrageous things, stepped in to "help" Justin. "Justin's right. If anybody deserves to be blamed, here, it's Patroclus. If he had done what he was supposed to do instead of rushing in and getting himself killed, Achilles wouldn't have had to risk his own life to recover Patroclus's body."
Harry rested his head in his hands, wishing he could vanish. No one noticed, though, for partisans in both sides of the debate were completely incensed by Su's remark (which had been her intention). While Su smiled innocently, Justin rushed to clarify that he certainly hadn't meant to place extra blame on Patroclus, and Morag said something to the effect that, if Achilles had shown half as much loyalty to the living Patroclus as he showed to his corpse, Patroclus might not have become a corpse in the first place. Megan Jones and Mandy Brocklehurst added their voices to the debate—Megan to claim that that Achilles's effort was "too little, too late, and what good did it do Patroclus, anyway, being that he was already dead?" and Mandy to say that tossing around blame was hardly the point—and Professor Smith had to intervene to restore order.
"Megan has raised and interesting question," Professor Smith said. "What was the purpose of recovering Patroclus's body?"
He asked me to. Harry accidentally caught Megan's eye, and she froze. For a moment, Harry thought he had actually spoken aloud.
Apparently, though, he hadn't, for the rest of the class was carrying on as usual. Morag was saying acidly, "Well, we see what Achilles does to the bodies of fallen enemies. I reckon he didn't want to watch the Trojans dragging Patroclus's corpse around the city. Megan's right, though; it can't make the slightest difference to Patroclus at that point. It's just to save face."
Terry Boot, who hardly ever spoke up in class, surprised everyone by quietly taking issue with this statement. "According to the ancient Greek religion, though, I think it was supposed make a difference to Patroclus. Didn't they believe that the spirit couldn't rest until the body was properly seen to?" Professor Smith nodded, and Terry continued, "So it wasn't just about saving face; it was about taking care of his friend's soul."
While Terry was speaking, Harry saw Megan say something to Morag. Morag glanced toward Harry, closed her eyes for a moment, and nodded to Megan. Then she scribbled something on a piece of parchment, which she passed to Mandy. Mandy passed it on to Justin, who opened it and read it. He looked away for a moment, crumpling the parchment in an unconscious gesture of renunciation, and then he, too, glanced at Harry. When Professor Smith asked if anyone had a response to Terry's comment, no one spoke.
"Morag?" he asked. She shook her head, and he looked surprised. "Justin? Terry's view of things seems to help your argument that Achilles is really a decent fellow after all; would you like to elaborate?" Justin, too, shook his head. Professor Smith gaped at him for a moment, clearly wondering what had caused his two chief antagonists to fall silent. He shrugged, then swept his gaze over the rest of the class. "How about someone we haven't heard from yet today?" he said. His eyes met Harry's, and he said, "Harry, what's your take on the fight over Patroclus's body? Does it matter at all, or…." He trailed off in mid-sentence, realisation dawning in his eyes.
Professor Smith's shoulders slumped just a bit, and he bit his bottom lip and looked thoroughly disgusted with himself. "I should have had us read The Odyssey this year," he muttered softly. In his normal tone, he said, "Mr. Potter, I am a thoughtless, insensitive clod, and I'll happily throw myself off the Astronomy Tower if you'd like."
Harry smiled wanly at him. "Don't bother," he said.
Professor Smith's answering flash of a smile was equally bleak. "Well, let's see if I can find anything to say to salvage today's meeting." He paced in front of the class for a moment, apparently at a loss. Still pacing, he asked, "Miss MacDougal, is Achilles a villain?"
"Erm, no," said Morag, sounding resigned. "He's a royal pain, and I think he made lots of mistakes, but I wouldn't call him a villain. He's irritating and arrogant and dislikeable, but he's not evil."
Professor Smith nodded. "Can we all agree that, whatever his faults, Achilles isn't evil?" Nods and murmers of assent. "Good. Now, Achilles isn't evil, but we see what he does to Hector's body. Whether it matters to Hector or not is irrelevant; mistreating a corpse was, in that society, a dire offense—an offense against the person whose spirit had once inhabited that body, an offense againt that person's family and city, an offense against the gods. In short, it's bad. Now, if a good person—or at least a not-evil person—is capable of doing something like that to the body of someone that he has killed in battle, imagine what an evil person would be capable of doing in a similar situation."
The end-of-class bell rang, but none of the students moved. Still pacing, Professor Smith continued to speak. "I know this is supposed to be Muggle Studies, but let's return to the magical world for a moment. The only thing Achilles is doing is dragging Hector's corpse around behind his chariot, and even that isn't doing any damage; the gods are protecting Hector's body. But nowdays we don't have Greek gods swooping down out of the sky to protect us, and there are wizards out there who would do much, much worse things to corpses than drag them around a city. Ask Professor Jigger about the black market in illegal potions ingredients. On second thought, don't ask. It'll give you nightmares. The point is this: You might think that what happened to Patroclus's body, or the body of any other Greek soldier, didn't really matter. But, in the war that we're about to fight, it will matter what happens to the bodies of the dead. Setting aside emotional reasons, cultural reasons, all of those things, it matters for the purely practical reason that Dark wizards can do horrible things with corpses, and those of us who want to fight Dark wizards don't want to give them that chance." Professor Smith paused for a moment. "On that cheerful note, you are dismissed. I'm sorry about today's lesson, and we'll try to begin with something not quite so close to home next time." He waved a hand toward the door, and the students began to leave. Professor Smith caught Harry's eye. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said, collapsing into his desk chair in a posture of defeat.
Harry shrugged. "Not your fault."
"The fact that something bad isn't your fault doesn't necessarily make you feel any less awful about it," the professor replied. "But I imagine that you already know that."
Isn't that the truth, Harry thought bitterly. He nodded grimly and left the room to join Hermione, who stopped short when she saw the look on Harry's face.
"Rough lesson?" she asked.
Harry snorted. "You could put it that way." Wanting to talk about anything else, he asked, "How was Arithmancy? What are you studying?"
Hermione looked at him suspiciously, knowing that Harry, in a normal mood, would sooner eat Flobberworms than listen to her talk about Arithmancy. She must have decided to take his hint, though, for she obligingly chattered about sines and cosecants and imaginary numbers ("But, you see, Muggles only think they're imaginary") until they arrived at the North Tower to collect Ron.
*
As he sat at the Gryffindor table at lunch, picking at his vegetables and tearing his roll into tiny pieces, Harry thought about what Professor Smith had said. "In the war that we're about to fight, it will matter what happens to the bodies of the dead." He as well have said, "in the war that we're already fighting." Harry hadn't known—and he doubted that the shadow of Cedric had known, either—about what might be done to Cedric's body if he had left it with Voldemort that night, and the thought made him shudder.
He hadn't known. What else didn't he know? In that situation, it didn't matter that he hadn't known; he'd brought Cedric's body back even without the knowledge of what he was saving it from. But it could have mattered. It might matter next time.
He noticed Ron and Hermione exchanging worried looks, and he gave up trying to pretend that everything was fine; he wasn't fooling them, anyway. "I need to talk to Dumbledore," he said. The Headmaster was just rising from the head table to leave the Great Hall, and Harry rose to intercept him. Ron and Hermione both started to stand to accompany him, but he waved them off. "You two finish your lunch; I'll get him to walk me back to Gryffindor Tower. I'll meet you there." Without waiting for a reply, Harry hurried to catch up to Professor Dumbledore.
He met the Headmaster just outside the doors to the Great Hall and asked if they could talk for a bit. Professor Dumbledore readily agreed, and they made their way up to his office.
After they had settled into their chairs and selected their sweets (a Muggle sherbet lemon for Professor Dumbledore and a Sugar Quill for Harry), the Headmaster focussed his blue, searching gaze on Harry and asked, "What's on your mind, Harry?"
Harry sucked for a moment on the end of his Sugar Quill, trying to compose his thoughts. There was so much on his mind that he didn't know where to begin. He finally started with, "Today, in Muggle Studies class.… You know the part in The Iliad where Patroclus is killed and Achilles goes to fight for his body? We got to that part. And, eventually, it made the class start thinking about Cedric and … and me. About what happened last year." Harry paused, took a breath, and tried to will away the memories of that horrible night. "Professor Smith said that Death Eaters do awful things to the bodies of the people they kill—like, use them for Dark magic and things. I know he was mostly telling us to make me feel better, to make me feel like I'd really saved Cedric from something bad, but it really started me thinking about … about things I don't know. I didn't know that Death Eaters used bodies for Dark magic. And that makes me wonder what else I don't know." He looked uncertainly at Professor Dumbledore, hoping that the Headmaster would understand his half-expressed wish for information.
Professor Dumbledore put his hands together and briefly rested his forehead on the tips of his middle and index fingers. Harry was strongly reminded of Muggle pictures of saints at prayer; he could almost see the halo of light around Professor Dumbledore's head. When the Headmaster lowered his hands, the image was gone, and he looked as old and tired and alone as Harry had ever seen him look. Finally, he spoke, more to himself than to Harry.
"Do you know, Harry, what most people would like to have more than anything else in the world—more than money, more than power, more than fame?" Harry, taking the question as rhetorical, merely shrugged to indicate that Professor Dumbledore should continue. "Time, Harry. Time to fix past mistakes, time to plan, time to think, time to live, time simply to be. At certain points in their lives, most people would give almost anything in order to have a little more time. But so often we misuse the time that we do have. We worry about getting time right. We don't want to do something to early, so we let an opportunity pass us by, or we don't want to miss a chance, believing that it may never come again, so we reach for something too soon, before the time is ripe. There are so many ways to get time wrong, and so few ways to get it right."
Professor Dumbledore looked seriously at Harry, and, when he spoke again, his voice was firmer, more decisive, as if he were getting to the important part. "There is a right time, Harry, for knowledge. I have always tried to wait for the right time to tell people things that could affect them deeply, things that could change their lives in irrevocable ways. Perhaps I have sometimes waited too long. I wish that I could wait longer to tell you all that I can about this war . The Dark is something that no child should have to deal with—don't grimace, Harry, you are still a child, and I wish you could live as one. A very wise Muggle once said that knowledge is power, but with power comes responsibility. Knowledge of the evils that we are facing comes with responsibility of a sort from which I wish I could protect you. And yet I know how things must be, and I am confident that you will rise to the occasion as you always do. There is much for me to tell you, Harry—so much that I hardly know where to begin."
The Headmaster paused again and then smiled his gentle, faintly amused smile. "I suppose the best place to begin is the beginning. And the story that you need to hear, Harry, begins more than a thousand years ago, just a few years after the founding of Hogwarts. Those were dark days, much like the ones that we face now. It was a time of great unrest in both the wizard and the Muggle worlds. As you already know, the borders and boundaries within Muggle Britain were not established then, and there were constant wars and battles for territory. There were similar conflicts in the wizarding world.
"Then, to make matters worse, a Dark witch called Morhaggen came to power on what we now call the Isle of Wight. She gained control of the wizarding population there, and then she began to spread her rule through the British Isles. Around the time that she was setting her sights on Ireland, Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor had their final argument, and Slytherin left Hogwarts. When he left, he joined Morhaggen. Their combined power was a force like none the wizarding world had ever faced. Ireland fell, and the main island of Britain looked to be next."
While Dumbledore paused to drink a bit of water, Harry sucked at his Sugar Quill and wondered what the long-past reign of a Dark witch had to do with him. He kept his peace, though, knowing that Dumbledore would get there in his own time. The Headmaster set down his goblet and continued.
"Suddenly, the tide of the war turned. Over and over, the Dark pair and their followers would stage attacks on the island of Britain, and, over and over, the attacks would fail. There were casualties on both sides, and, every now and then, a town or village might be taken for a few days, but only for a few days. No town was ever held by the Dark pair. It was as if someone on the side of the Light knew of their plans in advance and thwarted them every time. Do you know what caused the tide to turn, Harry?" Harry shook his head, and Dumbledore continued, "The Light side found some leaders—leaders as talented and powerful as the leaders of the Dark side. A band of witches and wizards came together to plan and to fight. Instead of merely reacting to the movements of the other side, they began to plan their own strategies and campaigns. They went into the wizarding settlements and taught defensive spells to the citizens; they sent spies to infiltrate the other side; they even waged a few offensive battles and took back some of the Irish settlements. Finally, they managed to take Salazar Slytherin prisoner in battle. When Morhaggen refused to send anyone to rescue him, he forswore his alliance with her, and he gave the Light side the information that they needed to defeat her. She was killed in the next battle, and the wizarding world returned to relative peace.
"The peace was restored mostly because of the witch Gwenhwyfar, the half-sister of Godric Gryffindor. It was Gwenhwyfar who brought together the band who guided the Light side. She chose the members of the inner circle, and they looked to her as their leader. It was a spell of her devising that bound them to one another in a way that protected them against infiltration by the other side.
"A hundred years later, when the next Dark wizard rose, Gwenhwyfar's granddaughter, Gràinne Wright, took her grandmother's place in the fight. She called together the few living members of the old inner circle, and together they found new members to help them in their battle against the darkness. This time, they gave themselves a name. They called their group the Order of the Phoenix, for they had been reborn from the remains of the old order. Again, they led the battle against the Dark forces, and, again, they triumphed.
"This is how it has been, down through the centuries. When a Dark witch or wizard attempts to gain control of the wizarding world, the Order of the Phoenix rebuilds itself to battle for the Light side. There have been times when the Order has dispatched the fledgling Dark leader so quickly that the wizarding world at large didn't even have time to learn of the threat. In the Order's last incarnation, as you have no doubt guessed, the threat was not put down so easily, for Lord Voldemort proved a far more powerful enemy than any that the Order had ever faced."
Here, Harry interrupted to ask, "You call it 'The Order' like it never changes, but it's different people every time, right? So what makes it still the same Order and not a new one?"
Dumbledore looked pleased, as though this question was precisely the one that he had wanted Harry to ask. "It is still the same Order because Gràinne Wright made it so. When she took Gwenhwyfar's place as the leader of the forces of Light, she resurrected Gwenhwyfar's protective spell, and she modified it a bit so that it did far more than merely protect the members of the Order from infiltration. It bound them in a way that allowed them always to call on one another for aid, to reach one another even through barriers to communication and Apparation, to tap into one another's reserves of strength and energy. Gràinne Wright's Binding Charm is one of the most powerful spells that has ever been developed, and it is one of very few spells that cannot be cast by one wizard alone. Gràinne designed it so that it requires two Casters, and, for it to be completely successful, each of those Casters must fulfill particular requirements. One Caster must be a member of a previous gathering of the Order. The other must be a direct descendant of Gwenhwyfar Gryffindor."
Professor Dumbledore paused, and Harry nodded to show that he was still following. He couldn't see yet what any of this had to do with him, but he had a feeling that Professor Dumbledore was getting close to the point when all would become clear.
Professor Dumbledore continued, "These requirements, when Gràinne developed them, did not seem terribly onerous. A single previous Order member would never be too hard to find, and those of Gwenhwyfar's children who chose to marry had many, many children, so finding a descendant of that line should have been easy, as well. But things changed. There were fevers and illnesses, and wizarding families grew smaller. The habit of having large families fell out of fashion, and wizarding families grew smaller still. The Gryffindor family was hit particularly hard by the illnesses, and the ancient names of Gryffindor and Wright, the name of Gwenhwyfar's husband, had died out by the sixteenth century. Even if the names were gone, though, the bloodline itself carried on, passed down by descendants of daughters of the houses. But those descendants were many fewer than Gràinne could ever have foreseen. By the middle of the present century, only one family remained that could trace its ancestry back to the Gwenhwyfar—a family called Smythe. The only child of this family was a daughter named Ellen, who married a man named Will Potter."
Harry started and sat up straighter in his chair at the sound of his own surname. Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Harry, your grandparents. You can reason out the rest for yourself. You are the only remaining descendant of Ellen Potter, neé Smythe, and therefore the last living descendant of Gwenhwyfar Gryffindor's line. You are needed to cast the Binding Spell to provide full power to the Order of the Phoenix."
"That's why he wanted to kill me, then," Harry said, as much to himself as to the Headmaster. "And that's why he said that my mum didn't have to die; she wasn't the descendent, so she wasn't a threat to him. Is that it?"
"That is it precisely. There was one flaw in the Binding Spell: It protects the Order from infiltration from without, but it does not protect against treachery from within. At the time that Peter Pettigrew joined Voldemort, he was already a member of the Order. He knew its secrets, and he passed them to his new master. Voldemort acted swiftly to wipe out the remaining members of your father's family, and he nearly succeeded. He had not, however, counted on the strength of your mother's sacrifice. She died for you, and his attempt to kill the final member of Gwenhwyfar's line rebounded, striking him instead and sending him into lonely and formless oblivion for more than a decade. But now he has returned, and, if we are to have a chance of fighting him successfully, the Order will need to convene again."
Dumbledore paused and looked steadily at Harry for a few moments, as if trying to take his measure before continuing. Harry forced himself not to look impatient or uncomfortable under the force of that blue, searching gaze; he tried to look like someone up to the task that he knew Dumbledore must ask him to undertake. Apparently, he succeeded, for Dumbledore continued to speak. "It has never been the policy of the Order to open itself to underage wizards who have not completed their schooling, but there is no one else to do it. If I could have, I would have shielded you from even knowledge of the Order's existence until you had reached the end of your school days, but I could not. I am asking you now, Harry, at a time that seems both too early and too late, to take your place as Caster and full member in the Order of the Phoenix."
Immediately, Harry replied, "I'll do it. Of course I'll do it. But I want Ron and Hermione to be in the Order, too."
"It is, as I have said, highly irregular to allow underage wizards into the Order." When Harry opened his mouth to object, Professor Dumbledore continued, with the faintest trace of amusement, "However, it is the job of the Casters to choose the other members of the Order, and, if you can obtain the consent of your fellow Caster, then Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley may enter the Order." When Harry asked who the other Caster was, the trace of amusement grew to a full-fledged, extremely mischievous smile, and Professor Dumbledore answered, in his most innocent, off-hand tone, "I am." He paused—perhaps for effect, perhaps simply to give Harry a chance to learn to deal gracefully with impatience—and then continued, "If, upon being fully apprised of the danger that members of the Order may be asked to face, your friends still wish to join, then I will allow it. You have proven extremely valuable to one another in the past, and I have no doubt that you will all prove so again in the future."
Harry nodded, glad to have obtained Dumbledore's agreement without having to argue for it and relieved beyond measure that Dumbledore was treating him like an adult by giving him information and allowing him to make his own decisions. He sat for a moment, trying to absorb all that Dumbledore had told him, wondering which of the many questions vying for attention in his head should take priority. Finally, he asked, "Who else is in the Order?"
"That is up to us," Professor Dumbledore replied. "There are many living members of previous Orders, but membership in an old Order does not guarantee membership in the new one. Some members may not choose to join this Order; others may not be invited. Mr. Pettigrew, obviously, will not be receiving an invitation to join the current incarnation of the Order—" (Harry laughed at this in spite of himself, surprised at Dumbledore's gallows humour) "—and there are other former Order members—the Longbottoms, for instance—who are no longer physically and mentally capable of service. And there will, of course, be new members. Shall I enumerate for you the members of the old Order whom we might consider for membership in the new Order?" Harry nodded, and Dumbledore began to list names. "Old order Members include Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Rubeus Hagrid, Alastor Moody, Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape" (Harry tried to hide his grimace), "Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, John Kimble and Celwyn Croaker from the Ministry, Celwyn's wife, Winifred, Madame Rosmerta from the Three Broomsticks, Firenze the centaur, and Griphook the goblin. Are those individuals all acceptable to you as members of the Order?"
Under the Headmaster's searching blue gaze, Harry hesitated. He didn't know some of the people Dumbledore had mentioned, but he would trust Dumbledore's judgment on them. Most of the ones that he know, he was content—more than content, in some cases—to approve. But he wasn't sure he could approve Snape. Finally, he spoke. "I don't want to be petty, and I'm trying not to be, but I'm really not sure about Professor Snape. Putting aside the way he treats me, he's awful to Professor Lupin, and he and Sirius can't be in the same room without trying to kill each other. I don't know if any of us can work with him."
Dumbledore nodded. "I understand your concerns, Harry, and I hope that you will believe that I am not asking to include Professor Snape merely to teach you some abstract lesson. Life has already presented you with more than enough opportunities to learn to endure people who refuse to treat you fairly and to accept you on your own merits. I am advocating Professor Snape's membership in the Order because he has knowledge that none of the rest of us have. He was a Death Eater, and he knows more about the workings of Voldemort's inner circle than the rest of us could ever hope to learn. We need his knowledge." Professor Dumbledore paused, obviously waiting for Harry to reply, but Harry couldn't quite bring himself to say anything. Faced with Harry's hesitation, Dumbledore continued, "Professor Snape had personal disagreements with many members of the old Order—Sirius, Remus, and your father among them—but they all managed to be civil to one another when Order business was at stake. Your father accepted him into the Order over loud protests from Sirius, and I believe that even Sirius came to see that Severus's presence was vital. In spite of their great personal dislike for one another, James recognised Severus's value. I hope you will be able to do so as well."
And that, Harry reckoned, cinched it. If his dad had been able to put up with Snape, so could he. "If he wants in, we should take him," he said.
Professor Dumbledore beamed at Harry, the proud, encouraging smile that always made Harry feel like whatever tough decision he'd made was worth all the trouble. Now that the decision about Snape's membership was made, Dumbledore didn't belabor the issue; instead, he turned the conversation to the matter of new Order members. Dumbledore mentioned that the Croaker's son, Rhun, was now of age (he had been a child during the last war) and would no doubt want to join his parents in the Order; Harry had no objection to this addition. They agreed that Professor Lively's field experience at fighting Death Eaters made her a natural choice for the Order, that Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacouer could provide valuable foreign perspectives, and that Madame Maxime, given her summer activities, deserved the chance to continue to work in the Resistance effort. Dumbledore noted that the Order had never been able to find representation from the House Elf community, and they quickly determined that Harry's unusual friend Dobby would be a welcome addition to the group.
Since Harry had already gotten Dumbledore to agree to include Ron and Hermione, the door was open, for the first time in the Order's history, to membership for underage witches and wizards. When they decided to approach the adult Weasleys about joining, Harry raised the possibility of approaching Fred and George as well. "After all," he said, "They'll have their N.E.W.T.s at the end of this school year, and we'd want them to join then, so we might as well just ask them now and have them in from the start. Better to have us all, erm, on the same page."
Professor Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "It does generally work best to involve everyone from the beginning. Even so, I am a bit uneasy about bringing in more student members than are absolutely necessary. I suppose if we have strict boundaries about the things that our underage members are allowed to do, we might be able to make it work." His mustache twitched a bit, and he added, "Although the Weasley twins are not exactly renowned for observing boundaries, however strict." Harry grinned wryly at this; when it came to bending rules, Fred and George were more inclined to beg forgiveness than to ask permission. After a pause, Dumbledore continued, "In addition, if we invite Fred and George Weasley to join the Order, we would certainly have to invite Virgina Weasley as well." At Harry's startled glance, he explained, "I doubt that Miss Weasley would take kindly to being the only member of her family left out of the Order."
Automatically, Harry protested, "But Ginny's so young." Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow at this statement, and Harry realised how foolish his words must seem to the Headmaster. Ginny was only a year younger than Harry, and, at her age, Harry had already faced Voldemort three times. Further, Harry realised with a jolt, Ginny herself had once faced Voldemort and had lived to tell the tale. This fact alone, as far as Harry was concerned, rendered Ginny deserving of a spot in the Order. Meeting Dumbledore's amused gaze, he amended, "Never mind. She's not too young. You're right, she should be in."
With characteristic incisiveness, the Headmaster replied, "It is often difficult to think of a young lady with six elder brothers as anything but young and in need of being kept safe. But Miss Weasley can take care of herself quite as well as any of her brothers." Harry nodded, accepting this mild—and well-deserved—rebuke. Dumbledore continued, "And I did not say that she should be in; I merely said that, if we include her twin brothers, we should include her as well. I have not yet made up my mind about Fred and George." He sat for a moment, apparently deep in thought. Finally, he said, "Fred, George, and Virgina Weasley are all in danger from Lord Voldemort. Placing them in the Order might put them in further danger."
Harry nodded, for this was a fair point. "So either they can't be in the Order, or we have to make it so that letting them in the Order won't put them in more danger, right?" Dumbledore nodded. Suddenly, Harry had an idea. "You know how you were saying that we'd have to make some rules about what the students in the Order could do? Well, what if one of those rules was that we—the students, I mean—had to have extra Defence lessons—lessons made to help us get out of dangerous spots?"
Dumbledore leaned forward and looked intently at Harry. "What kind of lessons do you have in mind?"
"I dunno, like how to recognise a surprise attack—an unexpected Portkey, maybe. How to escape when you don't know how to Apparate." Harry shrugged, at loss for a more specific idea. "I reckon Professor Lively would know the kind of things that would help."
Professor Dumbledore nodded. "I like that idea very much, Harry. I will speak with Professor Lively about it. And I will speak with Arthur and Molly Weasley about allowing Fred, George, and Virginia into the Order." He nodded again as if glad to have things settled. "Can you think of anyone else who should be included in the Order?" When Harry shook his head, Professor Dumbledore said, "There are several students currently enrolled here at Hogwarts who have been directly hurt by Lord Voldemort and his followers: Mr. Longbottom, Miss Bones, Miss Chang, Mr. Stebbins—all the Hufflepuffs, really, but particularly Mr. Stebbins. He and Cedric were very close. In the past, I have been wary of letting in people whose main interest in defeating Voldemort would most likely be a desire to even the score. However, given the Ministry's attitude, I am tempted, this time, to bring in as many allies as we can. On the other hand, I do not want to bring into the Order members who might be more inclined to act rashly, to allow their emotions to carry them away, as those with personal grudges are often inclined to do. What do you think?" Harry shrugged, not sure which way would be best. Dumbledore thought for a moment, then said, "Not every individual who fights against Voldemort needs to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and, if all of the Weasleys join, we will already have more than thirty members. For now, let's not approach the students that I mentioned.
"Next, we need to contact our potential Order members. I suggest that I contact those individuals from outside Hogwarts—the adult Weasleys, the Ministry personnel, and so forth—and you contact those inside Hogwarts. I would, however, ask that you not approach Virgina Weasley or her twin brothers about joining until after I have their parents' permission."
"What about Ron?" Harry asked. He wanted to go straight to Ron and Hermione after his talk with Dumbledore, and he hoped that the Headmaster would allow this.
"You may speak freely with Ron. I would not allow him to enter if his parents refuse their permission, but, in his case, I cannot imagine that they will. I believe they will understand how much his membership will mean to you."
Harry grinned, a little embarrassed at this spot-on reading of himself. If he couldn't have Ron in the Order, he didn't know how he'd manage. He started to agree to Dumbledore's division of labour, but then he thought of one person outside Hogwarts that perhaps he should contact himself. "Let me talk to Percy Weasley. Even if his heart wasn't really in it, I don't think he could say 'no' to you. If it's me, we'll know whether he really wants to do it."
Professor Dumbledore nodded. "And, Harry, if you wish, I will speak with Professor Snape."
As much as he would have liked to accept this offer, Harry felt that he needed to talk with Snape himself. "No. I should do it." The sooner Snape faced up to the fact that joining the Order meant working with Harry, the better. Besides, if they were in the Order together, Harry would probably have to speak to Snape sometime—as he had not had to do since Snape stopped teaching Potions—and he felt he might as well get it over with.
"As you wish," Professor Dumbledore replied, and Harry thought he could see a hint of pride and approval in his blue eyes. "We should have our first meeting as soon as we can—next Sunday afternoon, perhaps? You and I should meet beforehand to discuss the Binding Spell. At the meeting, we'll perform it, and then we'll start to discuss our strategy. Doing something about Azkaban will be a major priority given the escape of the LeStranges…." Harry interrupted Dumbledore with an exclamation of surprise. He hadn't heard about any Azkaban escapes. "Ah, yes," said the Headmaster, sounding wry, "I'd forgotten it wasn't common knowledge. The Ministry's very embarrassed about the whole thing, and they're trying to keep it quiet. It seems that someone walked right into Azkaban with the LeStrange's wands, and out they all Apparated. That's the best theory, anyway. The wands are missing from the storage facility, and the LeStranges are gone, so there it is. And, coincidentally enough, this happened on the night that your dream allowed us to avert disaster at the Granger residence."
""It was Lucius Malfoy, wasn't it?" said Harry immediately. "That's what he was supposed to do while Crabbe and Goyle went to kill Mr. and Mrs. Granger."
Dumbledore looked steadily at Harry. "There is, of course, no proof, but that is my suspicion as well."
Harry felt the sick swoop of anger that he always felt when he thought of Lucius Malfoy. "In some ways, he's more dangerous than Voldemort, isn't he? He can walk around in broad daylight, doing whatever he wants, and the Minister won't hear a word against him. It's sick. Somebody should do something. The Order should do something."
"We will, of course, discuss it at the meeting," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps some of our members will have some ideas for keeping an eye on Mr. Malfoy." Harry heard the faintest touch of amusement in Dumbledore's voice, and he guessed that Dumbledore wouldn't need the other members for creative ideas about ways to shorten Lucius Malfoy's leash.
Their business finished, Dumbledore offered to walk Harry to Gryffindor Tower. On the way, they talked of other things—Professor Dumbledore was especially interested in hearing about Jigger's Potions lessons—but Harry's mind wasn't fully on their conversation. It was already in the Common Room, dragging Ron and Hermione off to a private spot to talk about the Order. The Order in which the three of them would be members, together. Finally, they were going to be a part of things.
Harry and Professor Dumbledore parted at the portrait of the Fat Lady. Harry climbed through the hole to find his friends and fill them in on the new opportunity that awaited them.
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A/N II: You could probably all figure this out for yourselves, but I still reckoned I'd better note it outright: Since this story and the ideas for it began before OotP was released, "my" portrayals of the Book 5 characters (particularly Harry, Dumbledore, Cho, and Ginny, I think, but probably others as well) now diverge pretty starkly from canon. After Book 4, there were several ways for characters to develop, and my thoughts and hopes for which of those ways some characters might take turned out to be pretty far from what JKR has in mind. "My" Harry isn't nearly so angry (not that he has, thus far, much to be angry about, in contrast to OotP Harry), my Dumbledore not so flawed and human, my Cho not so weepy, my Ginny (alas) not so spunky. The divergence between my characters and the Book Five folks is making me a little uneasy in spots, but I'm still going to try to stick to the interpretations of the characters that I began with. Just so you know….
