A/N: This is the un-betaed version as my beta's father is in the hospital and she will not be able to beta for awhile. I'm sure I speak for all of us when we wish in a fast recovery.
CH32: And The Winner Is …
A light feathery sensation tickled Harry's nose. He twitched it and sneezed, reluctantly opening his eyes. Perching insistently on his chest was Tom's dark brown owl. Harry sat up in bed, causing the owl to flutter off him for a moment before setting back down on the bed, hooting crossly.
"Quiet down, Poe," Harry said in annoyance. "I'm up, I'm up."
Poe shifted from one leg to another, the parchment of the letter tied there rustling with the movement. Harry reached out and relieved him of his burden, briefly petting his head. Despite belonging to the most evil Dark Wizard around, Poe was a gentle owl and Harry had taken an immediate liking to him.
Harry broke open the seal of the letter while Poe settled on Hedwig's vacant perch. She had yet to return from her hunting trip the night before.
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Harry began to read the letter.
Harry,
I request your presents back at home immediately. Recent events make it impossible for me to allow you to remain at Hogwarts any longer.
LV
Puzzled, he read through the letter again, before picking up a quill and a scrap of parchment to write a response.
Dear Tom,
Whatever it is that is happening can wait three more days. I am enjoying visiting Hogwarts and will not cut my stay any shorter than it already has to be.
I'll see you Wednesday.
Harry
Harry tied the letter onto Poe's leg and watched as the owl flew out the window towards the horizon. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater, and walked over to the mirror to attempt to fix his hair. What he saw made him drop the comb in shock.
His hair was a vibrant blue!
Growling, Harry stalked down the stairs to confront his godfather.
"Sirius Black!" Harry yelled, walking menacingly up to his laughing godfather. "What did you do to my hair?" he asked through clenched teeth. Sirius abruptly tried to quell his amusement.
"Don't look at me," Sirius said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I had nothing to do with it."
"Have the Twins been by at all today?" he asked, beginning to be confused.
"No …"
"But then how did my hair end up blue?"
"Blue?" Sirius stood up, staring at his godson. "Harry, you're hair is red."
"What!"
"You are a Metamorphmagus," Professor McGonagall explained, amazement dancing in her eyes. "It's a very rare talent. I haven't taught one in over twenty years."
"I'm a Meta-what?" Harry asked, biting his lip.
McGonagall sighed in frustration. "A Metamorphmagus and it would have done you well if you paid attention in my class."
"Sorry."
"A Metamorphmagus is, simply put, a shape shifter. He or she is a wizard who can alter their appearance on command. They usually come into their full powers in their sixteenth year, so it is unsurprising that you would not be aware of this talent until now. You probably displayed several signs of this ability when you were younger, but your Muggle relatives would doubtless have not recognized the signs. Can you think of any times as a child that you alter your appearance?"
Harry considered it for a moment. "Once," he said finally. "Aunt Petunia had given me a really bad hair-cut and I grew it back out overnight."
"That is exactly the type of instance I am referring to."
Harry chuckled ruefully. "What are the chance that I would end up with two rare wizarding talents, both this and Parseltongue?"
McGonagall took a measured breath and paused before responding. "Not surprising in the least, Mr. Potter. I remember Tom Riddle from when he was a student here. I was working as an apprentice, training to take over Dumbledore's position as Transfiguration professor when he became Headmaster. Riddle always showed an uncanny aptitude for Transfiguration and, if I recall correctly, showed the beginning signs of Metamorphmagic ability in his Seventh Year here. Same as your father. If James passed his Metamorphmagus gene to you and, as with your Parseltongue talent, you received the Dark Lord's capacity for it, then it would not surprise me if you grow to be a powerful Metamorphmagus indeed."
Harry spent the rest of the morning in McGonagall's office, working on being able to change his hair at will. Around lunchtime, he finally managed to gain control of his fluctuating hair colors. McGonagall explained that, until he achieved full control over all of his powers, his appearance would vary with his moods.
Exhausted after the practice, Harry shuffled down to the Great Hall for lunch. He was met by a cheery Hermione, waving the Daily Prophet excitedly.
"It's ready!" she gushed, showing him the article elatedly. "They are picking the new Order tomorrow! Isn't it exciting? And Professor Dumbledore said that we could all go and see it! This is a historical event and we're going to be there! I can't wait!" Harry smiled to himself as she bubbled on. "Oh!" she said suddenly. "You are going come, right? Right, Harry? Please tell me you will, it wouldn't be the same with out you."
He glanced over to where Albus was seated with a questioning look on his face. The Headmaster nodded.
"Yes, Hermione," said Harry, grinning. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." She squealed exuberantly. "There is just somebody I have to see first."
"He wanted you to go back today?" Marigold asked in bewilderment. Harry had Flooed directly to Headquarters as soon as he left the Great Hall and was now seated in his office with his second in commands. "What could be so urgent that he would call you back immediately?"
"I'm not sure," Harry confessed with a sigh. "All I can assume is that it has something to do with the Orb finally being ready."
John cleared his throat. "Are you attending the ceremony tomorrow?" he asked, a worried glint in his eye. At Harry's nod, he drummed his fingers on the desk. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Harry. After this letter … you don't know what You-Know-Who might have planned."
"I know. But I promised my friends I would go and I can't back out now."
Marigold put a hand on John's arm. "We could always send a few guards to keep an eye on things," she suggested.
"Alright," he said grudgingly. "You may go."
Harry arrived back at the school just in time for dinner. He began to open to door, only to stop hastily. The Hall was filled with students. He could have smacked himself; he forgot that the rest student body would be returning from the holidays that day.
Albus stood at the front of the room with the McAlisters.
"… will be staying with us until Wednesday," he was saying, motioning to the family with his hand. "Please, treat them with respect and welcoming."
Coughing slightly to gain the Headmaster's attention, Harry fully stepped into the room. Absolute silence met his arrival.
Unbeknownst to Harry, his eyes were a deep amethyst color.
"Ah, yes," said Albus, smiling. "I almost forgot. Mr. Potter will be visiting the school for the next few days as well." He waved Harry into the room, ignoring the shocked looks on his student's faces.
As Harry slid into the seat Ron and Hermione had saved for him at the Gryffindor table, he was suddenly very aware that his t-shirt clearly displayed both his phoenix and Dark marks.
"Er … hi, guys," he greeted hesitantly. Neville smiled widely.
"Welcome back, Harry." He stuck out his hand and Harry shook it. "How've you been?"
"Good. And you?"
"The same." The table lapsed into silence again until Fred snorted loudly.
"What are you all staring at?" he asked. "He's the same Harry as he was before."
"Stop looking at him like he's grown an extra head," added George. "And let's eat."
Slowly, chatter at the Gryffindor table resumed and Harry found himself being filled in about what had happened in his absence, laughing loudly at the Weasley Twins antics and cheering when he found out how well the Quidditch team was doing.
And, for the next few hours, things had gone back to the way they had been.
"Wake up Harry!"
Harry blearily opened his eyes, finding the McAlister twins standing before him, identical grins on their faces.
"You're going to be late," warned David, pulling Harry out of bed by the arm. "Sirius sent us to wake you up."
"Late?"
Vince rolled his eyes. "For the ceremony."
Harry jumped up, noticing belatedly that it was already nine a.m. The ceremony started in less than thirty minutes. He quickly pulled on some pants and a shirt, and followed the twins down the stairs, struggling to push his arms through the sleeves of his robe. Hermione and Sirius were waiting downstairs.
"You know, you're new trick might come in handy today," Sirius remarked as he took in his godson's appearance. "I'd even have trouble recognizing you."
Hermione conjured up a mirror and showed Harry his reflection. He ran a hand through his short copper locks while examining his bright gold eyes. It was true; he looked like a different person.
"Perfect," he said, relieved. "I really don't want to answer any questions from nosy reporters today." He looked around, brow furrowed. "Where's Ron?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "He decided not to come. Something about homework he put off that he had to finish. I told him that he should have – "
"Hermione," Harry interrupted. "We're going to be late." Waving good-bye to the twins, the three of them stepped into the fireplace and were off.
"Oomph!" Harry exclaimed when they arrived. Hermione landed hard on his left leg. "Ouch!"
"Sorry, Harry," she apologized, scrambling to get back on her feet. Sirius laughed at them from where he was, still standing a few feet away.
"You'd better move," he advised. "If you don't want to be trampled." They scurried quickly out of the way, barely missing the next arrivals. Sirius took them by their arms and directed them across the room. "This way."
Harry looked around, recognizing his surroundings as the Ministry of Magic that he visited during the past summer. A platform had been erected on one end of the large room and there were hundreds of chairs assembled in front of it, almost completely filled with anxious witches and wizards.
The three slid into chairs towards the back of the room, just as a hush descended over the room. The Minister stood in front of the crowd. Waving his wand, the lights of the room dimmed and the Orb of Tenus shined brightly in the darkness.
"Would Albus Dumbledore please approach the Orb," the Minister announced, soft voice permeating across the silence. Albus stood and walked up to the platform, the light of the Orb reflecting against his white beard.
"No surprise there," Sirius whispered.
Harry was puzzled. "What?"
"The most powerful wizard in the Order makes the announcements of the other members," he explained. "The Orb would have decided who that was and revealed it to the Minister a few days ago. No one thought that Albus had lost his spot as the Head of the Order, but it has happened before." Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Now, the Orb will start listing the members, starting with the least powerful and building up to Albus' second chair, or the second most powerful wizard in the order."
At the front, Albus cleared his throat, quieting anymore explanations Sirius could offer. "Mark Thornton," he said loudly and, next to Harry, Hermione gasped.
"What's wrong?" he hissed to her.
"Nothing," she said hurriedly, a twinge of excitement in her voice. "It's just … Mark Thornton used to be number 24 on the Order's roster. If he was bumped down into last place, it usually means that someone else has joined the Order! That would explain why it took the Orb so long to make its decision."
Hermione sat on the edge of her chair, eagerness dancing in her eyes as the Headmaster read of the list of names.
"Abigail Johnston."
"Frederick Stone."
"Gene Herring."
As each name was read off, Hermione got closer to falling off her chair and the crowd's muttering grew. Most seemed to think Hermione's theory was right, that there was a new member in the Order.
Albus quickly reached the last five names.
"Thomas Arrigot."
"Charles Hanson."
"Susan Rivers."
"Amelia Bones."
Dumbledore paused, eyes twinkling and his lips quirked upwards in a small smirk.
"And the new Second Chair of the Order of the Phoenix is …"
Everyone held their breath.
"Harry Potter."
Hermione fell out of her chair.
