Chapter Three: Plans for the Future
"There was an attack last night," Dumbledore sighed, placing his half-moon glasses on the desktop in front of him and rubbing at his eyes with both hands before picking up the spectacles and wearily returning them to their perch on his long nose.
"A..." Harry swallowed. An attack? "Where?"
"Southhampton."
"Who?"
"A muggle boarding school."
"A... why?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, Harry. Nonetheless..."
"Professor..."
"Harry, I'm sorry. I don't seem to be able to give you my full attention right now." Dumbledore sighed. Harry had never seen him look so tired.
"This is important, sir," Harry said calmly.
"It really is time you stopped that, you know."
"What?" Harry looked at him, not understanding what he was saying.
"Calling me 'Professor'. I'm not your headmaster any longer, Harry. You must call me Albus... as the other members of the Order do."
"I... I don't know how comfortable I feel doing that, sir."
"I know. It was difficult for your father, as well. But you need to."
"I need to talk to you about what is happening."
"What is happening, Harry?"
"Something... odd."
"Odd?" Dumbledore sat forward in his chair, his demeanor suddenly very attentive. "What do you mean, 'odd'?"
"Professor," Harry sighed. "There is something going on at the Ministry. I can feel it."
"You are aware of this?" Dumbledore spoke softly, almost to himself. "But how?"
"Just a feeling. And I'm not the only one."
"You aren't?" Dumbledore did show surprise at this.
"Several members of the... the group..."
"Ron and the others?"
"Yes," Harry nodded. "Professor, do you know what is going on? Why..."
"I have some idea, yes. But it is not something we were ever intended to know, Harry."
"What is going on? I know something is... what is it?"
"Harry, have you considered what might have happened in our world if you had not been victorious in your final battle with Voldemort?"
"Of course! I could hardly not be aware, could I? I mean... that's what I was fighting against, right?"
"Yes... the preservation of your family, those you cared about... yes, of course. But what about... Harry, have you considered the politics of your win or loss to Tom?"
"Politics?" Harry spat. "What the hell did politics have to do with it? People were dying..."
"Ah, but Harry," the elderly wizard leaned back in his chair. "Death is, quite often, about politics... and politics is almost always about death, if not of people, then of ideals... beliefs... values. I'm sure, coming from a muggle background, you've heard the term 'collateral damage'..." Dumbledore shrugged.
"Are you telling me..." Harry's voice grew hoarse and low. Dangerous. "Are you telling me that I wasn't... that the Ministry would have preferred it if I had lost the battle?"
"I wouldn't go quite that far," Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Rather, consider that they may not have had the faith in the possibility of our being victorious that others did, and that many in... important positions... took steps to ensure their safety and the safety of their families... not to mention the steps they would have taken to preserve their own power... when we fell, as they felt we must do... eventually."
Harry slumped back in the leather-upholstered chair. "Those sons of bitches."
"My sentiments exactly."
"How do you know this?" Harry turned sparking green eyes up at the elderly wizard.
"I don't," Dumbledore admitted. "However, at my age, one has rather a different perspective on things, Harry, and plenty of time to consider scenarios. Added to what I have been feeling, and a rather different view on divination, well..."
"Intuition," Harry said.
"Along with a healthy dose of experience," Dumbledore agreed dryly. "What you and your friends have been experiencing... only with rather a different perspective."
"So it's true."
"I would think... yes. There is something going on at the Ministry. There are those in positions of power who prepared themselves before the end of the war with the presumption that we would fall to Voldemort, a very powerful wizard. The plans they made..."
"Have turned about and bit them on the arse."
"Precisely," Dumbledore nodded with a slight smile on his face.
Harry thought for a moment. There was no way... no way in hell that he was going to join the Ministry now... or go to them for Auror training. So how was he supposed to learn more?
"Professor..."
"Albus," the old wizard corrected him.
"Albus," Harry swallowed. "How would one go about getting Auror training without... without joining the Ministry?"
"Well, one would think that one would go to the source, wouldn't one?" a small smile played around the corners of the old Headmaster's mouth.
"What?"
"Who teaches the Auror training courses, Harry?" Dumbledore's eyes sparkled.
Harry realized what he was saying. "Older Aurors."
"I believe we have access to several of those, don't we? Several of the best, actually."
"Would they...?"
"They are all devoted to the Order, Harry. The only question is: how large a class are we looking at?"
"And how do we keep the Ministry from finding out?"
Dumbledore laughed out loud, something Harry could only remember him doing a handful of times in all the time he'd known him. "You leave the Ministry to me."
"But..."
"I've dealt with their kind for many years, Harry. Longer than most of them have been alive."
"But how do we..." Harry took a breath. "We can't just say that... that we aren't going to do anything, not take any training. I mean, I could probably get away with it, but Ron, well... Ron will be expected to get a job of some sort, as will Seamus and Neville and..."
"Certainly! If all of you were to decide to be idle concurrently, it would certainly look suspicious," Dumbledore agreed. "However..."
"However?"
"Once again, Harry, I seem to find myself in the position of looking for a new DADA teacher."
Harry began to grin.
"And strangely enough, Madame Hooch came to me not an hour ago and announced her intention of leaving. We will need someone to oversee the physical education program, as well. And Professor Sprout was saying just the other day that... well, she's getting older, and she managed to be bitten while tending a crop of mandrakes twice last week... she really should have an assistant, poor thing..."
"You'd be surprised at how many of the old crowd have decided that, with the war over, they just want to enjoy life, and hand things over to the younger generation," Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling furiously. "Madame Rosmerta was just recently telling me how, now that things have calmed down, she was rather thinking of spending some time with her sister in America, and it occurred to me that Mr Finnegan would make a fine pub keeper, should he have the financial wherewithall to purchase such an establishment."
"Money would not be a problem," Harry said in a low voice.
"I didn't think it would be, actually," Dumbledore countered. "Having you all here... near or within Hogwarts, would serve many purposes, Harry, and with Miss Granger in the Ministry..."
Harry's eyes clouded. "Is she safe there?"
"As safe as she would be anywhere."
"Albus?"
"Harry, there is no reason to suspect anything of any of you. So long as they believe that you believe that the war is over, they are going to assume that your guard is down. It's not Miss Granger they are... upset... with."
"It's me."
"It's you," Dumbledore agreed. "And, to a lesser degree, Mr Weasley."
"Ron?"
"You two are perceived to be... partners in crime, for want of a better word."
"But why not Hermione, then?"
"Some of the older... beliefs... still exist within our world, Harry. It is unfortunate... distasteful even, at times. But there it is. Hermione would never be considered the same kind of threat that you and Ron are, simply because she is a witch."
Harry shook his head, disbelievingly. "You mean they think because she's a woman..."
"As strange as it may seem, yes. You and I both know that Miss Granger is a highly competent witch, but the egos which run the more powerful departments at the Ministry are largely... old school."
"I wouldn't want to be them if Hermione ever gets wind of that," Harry remarked dryly.
"Nor I, Mr Potter," Dumbledore smiled. "Nor I."
Harry, after leaving Dumbledore, found himself in Diagon Alley, stepping out of the floo at the twins' shop.
"Harry, you silly bugger... what are you doing here?"
"I need to talk to you two. Privately."
"I sense a bit of... an undertone, Harry," Fred took a seat behind the counter while George locked the door and turned the "open" sign to "closed", pulling down the shades while he was at it.
"Well, there is a reason for that."
"Do tell, my fine, upstanding business partner who had better be making an honest woman of my sister the moment she graduates," George sat down across from him.
Harry, rather surprised at the comment, glanced between the brothers before deciding that now was probably not the time to address his relationship with Ginny. He was, after all, alone with them in a shop full of their bad ideas.
"I... I've decided to not enter Auror training."
"You've..." Fred shook his head. "Harry, you've always said..."
"I know. Fred... George... have you had any suspicious or strange experiences lately?"
"Well, there was that corndog from Fortescues..." George admitted. "I was in the loo for a week... I swear they..."
"I meant with the Ministry?" Harry interrupted.
"Ah," Fred stood, took a small item from a shelf, and brought it back to where they sat. Placing it on the counter, he studied it for a moment.
It was a sneakoscope. Harry had one very similar to it at home. After a moment, when it didn't react, Fred looked up at him, an uncommonly serious look on his face.
"Funny you should ask, mate... yes."
"What?"
"They want to bloody know what we're selling, and to who, that's what," George said in an undertone.
Harry turned surprised eyes to him. "Which department?"
"That's the really strange bit," Fred said. "It's the Department of Mysteries."
"We just thought it was Hermione doing her control-freak thing..." George said with a snicker. "Man, I do not envy Ron when he's married to her... he won't get to have any fun..."
"But then..." Fred glanced at him.
"When we sent an owl back telling them that we don't collect that kind of information on our customers, that most people pay cash, they sent us this..." George reached under the counter and pulled out a small round, flattish object. It looked like a squashed tennis ball, but was golden and metallic. It was perfectly smooth.
"What is it?"
"We haven't figured that out yet..."
"But the instructions told us to pass a coin from each purchase over it," Fred looked down at it. "We figure it somehow identifies the customer by something on the coins..."
"We know it opens somehow... but we've not been able to figure it out," George looked frustrated. Despite popular belief, the twins were quite intelligent, and their need to know things was largely what drove their inventing behavior.
"Have you tried immersing it?" Harry speculated.
"What?" George looked oddly at him. Harry flushed.
"Immersing it. In water."
"Why would we...?"
"The egg... the one I had to figure out how to open for the triwizard tournament," Harry shrugged. "It needed to go under water to release the clue."
Fred and George exchanged shocked looks before madly dashing for the loo at the back of the shop.
"Be careful!" Harry called out. "What if they...?"
Boom.
"... put a trip of some sort on it?" Harry finished as the twins stumbled out of the loo, soaked to the skin and covered with bits of porcelain from what Harry hoped was the washbasin, and the ball laying open in Fred's hand.
"Good job, Harry!" George cried. "Look at this..."
"But what if the Ministry...?"
Fred pointed to a glass of water on the counter beside the till and grinned. "Oops... clumsy me."
Harry shook his head, thinking that that explanation probably wouldn't explain the state of the loo in the back of the shop, should anyone ask. "Look, just... be aware, okay? And let me know if..."
"Done, Harry!" George called gaily as Harry retreated to the floo. The two of them were already bent over the countertop where the bits of the ball and it's contents were already spread out, ready for examination.
As Harry stepped up to grab a handful of floo powder, the grate burst into green flames, and Bill Weasley stumbled out.
"Bill?"
"Harry, thank Merlin! Fred! George... you've got to come..."
"What is it?"
"The Burrow," Bill coughed, a bit of blood running from the corner of his mouth. "The Burrow... it's been attacked!"
Hearing this, Harry stepped into the floo, drew his wand and threw down the handful of powder he already held.
"The Burrow!"
BrittSchrick: Well, daily might be pushing it. At this point, we're looking at three or four a week. Or so. About. We'll see, hmm? LOL!
Shotgunn: Oh, please – don't play with me that way! You left us with a giant fireball crashing through the glass ceiling of Kings Cross, as I remember it – tough to do, considering I've been hanging on THAT little cliffie for, what, nine or ten MONTHS? LOL! I'll believe it when I read it!
Kazziedal: I'm sending you a cyber-hug right back. Am I as excited as you? My kids and I are planning on camping out at the local Chapters bookstore the night of the 15th. They're having a release party, and I intend to have a copy in my hands as soon as possible!
Wolf'sScream: Once again, I stand corrected. Suffice to say that the site appears to be doing some odd things when I upload, because in my file, the errors of omission are as they should be. The things that are just wrong are, unfortunately, my own oversight. Apologies.
Trixie&: I think Ron is going to want to be a little closer to things than the position with the CC would allow him.
VT: Thanks for your kindness. I, too, am eagerly awaiting Book Six. One of the reasons why I want this fic done by then is because I KNOW that JKR is going to change things drastically with this book, and I KNOW I won't be able to continue this one on after reading it. It's going to spark different ideas, I believe!
CaptainAlexObvious: Umm... a green ribbon around your ankle? Okay... I think I'll take that as a huge compliment... I don't know may people who walk about with ribbons on their ankles, so it must be a compliment, right? LOL!
Weselan: Jedi mind tricks? Would I do that? I think I'm more the Bene Gesserit type, actually...
Larna Mandrea: I had to use that bit about Seamus... couldn't resist...LOL!
Padfootlives101: I don't imagine that Harry will be fashioning it after any one specific preexisting group. Think of it more as an ideal...
LifeLoveSanity: I had a writing teacher that once told me that there were two things essential to being a good writer: being well read from a variety of genres, and writing every day. Everyone can write well, it's not skill – it's determination.
Drowning Goldfish: Wow. All I can say is... wow! Thank you for an amazingly encouraging review. Thank you!
Manatheron: The sequel to Shades of Grey was Chasing Rainbows... covering Harry's final year at Hogwarts. At this point, there is no date. Ginny has a year left of school, after all...
Whimsical Firefly: Yes, I decided it was time I dredged myself up out of my pit of depression. I've been writing a lot, in my little basement room, but I'll be around a whole lot more, now, I hope! Hope all is well with you – see you online soon...
And the rest, thank you: SabineStrohemMoss, Kordolin, RyougaZell, Harryrukes, JediKnightBus, HogsmeadeHunny, 2InsanitiesInl, Alli-Baby, Lady of Masbolle, laxgoalie210, starnat