Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers

by Felinity

Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts is not as simple as he would have liked. Instead of just worrying about his O.W.L.s (and maybe girls) as normal teenagers do, war has begun in the magical community, and a strange, disembodied being haunts Harry's steps...

9. Chapter Nine: The Meeting

Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you recognise! They all belong to JK Rowling!!! I do own the E.N.Q.T., their coach, the plot, Rhianna Lupin...... uh...... I think that's about it.

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Chapter 9

The Meeting

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When Harry woke up again from a mercifully dreamless sleep, it was still rather early in the morning. Birds were singing outside, nothing seemed to be able to disturb the peaceful silence. Harry sighed happily and stretched.

"Ah, good, you're awake."

It seemed that something, or rather someone, could break the comfortable silence after all. Poppy Pomfrey, the Hogwarts matron, bustled over to Harry's bed. She took out her wand and cast a few spells over him. Harry could not understand what she was saying, but the spells tingled strangely on his skin.

Finally, Madam Pomfrey seemed to be satisfied and pocketed her wand.

"Well, Mr. Potter," she said, regarding him sternly. "It seems that, once again, you have been incredibly lucky. You are free to leave if you wish to do so, breakfast will be served in the great hall in approximately half an hour."

Harry nodded and thanked the nurse. As he was still feeling a little wobbly on his legs, he allowed Madam Pomfrey to help him into fresh clothes.

"Try not to do anything too taxing for a while, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey advised, "No Quidditch or Flying for another three days. And yes, I have already spoken to your coach, he understands and wishes for me to tell you to get better as soon as possible."

Harry sighed resignedly and nodded. Then, he made his way out of the hospital wing. Just as he was about to close the door behind himself, he heard Madam Pomfrey's voice again.

"Harry-"Harry opened the door again.

"Yes?" Madam Pomfrey regarded him silently for a few moments, then allowed a small smile to cross her face.

"If I see you again in the hospital wing before school has even started, I might just refuse to heal you. Though, of course, you are welcome to visit me any time."

Harry smiled and nodded, knowing that the nurse wasn't serious.

"Right." he agreed earnestly and started on his way through the many hallways of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry towards the great hall.

The Hogwarts Infirmary was on the fourth floor (A/N: If that's not right, forgive me, I'm too lazy to check at the moment). The way to the great Hall was long and complicated, but to Harry, who must have walked it more than any other student in Hogwarts, it was familiar.

Walking down a flight of stairs, Harry suddenly stopped. He was in the third floor corridor, the one that had been out of bounds in his first year. Harry stared at the door that had been the beginning of his very first adventure at Hogwarts, so many years before..... it felt like it had been an eternity since he, Ron and Hermione had made their way through this door, put Fluffy to sleep and jumped through the trap door.

Harry smiled softly as he approached the door and let his hand slide over the rough, strong wood. Was Fluffy still behind it? But no, Harry would have heard the growling. Harry wondered what was in the corridor behind the door when it was not being used as a hiding place for one of the most valuable objects ever in existence.

A sudden, irresistible urge to open the door and have a look overcame Harry. He glanced over his shoulder, checking if anyone was watching him. Harry knew that he was being stupid, but every time he did something forbidden, he got the feeling that someone was watching him. (A/N: Don't we all know that feeling?)

Technically, it was not even forbidden to open this door right then, but still Harry felt guilty, like a little child that peeked at its Christmas presents in the middle of the night when its parents are asleep.

Giggling nervously at the strange comparison, Harry slowly tried to open the door. For a moment, he thought that it was locked and felt a jolt of irrational relief, but then, ever so slowly, the door creaked open in its rusty hinges.

Harry gulped and glanced over his shoulder again before drawing a deep breath and stepping through the door. The corridor was dark. It was pitch black. There were no windows, apparently, and no visible torches either. The air in the room was surprisingly chilly, but stuffy. Clearly, nobody had aerated the room for quite some time.

With a jolt of excitement and nervousness, Harry realized that he was probably the first person to step through the door in more than three years. Taking a deep breath, and leaving the door open behind himself (just in case), Harry took another step into the room.

"Lumos." A small light blossomed at his wand tip. Harry held it high above his head, trying to see as much of the room as possible.

On the walls that had been completely bare three years before there were ceiling-high shelves. Shelves that were loaded with all kinds of things, for example brooms (the kind used for cleaning), old blackboards (most of them broken), a few canes (Harry gulped upon seeing them. They looked like the ones his elementary teacher had once shown Harry and his classmates when they had been discussing school as it had been fifty years before), broken torches, partially melted kettles (Harry wondered fleetingly if some of them had belonged to Neville), a few very old and very decayed still lives, and thousands of other things.

In the back of the room there were a few broken tables and chairs. Harry realized that this had to be some kind of junk storeroom, which was only used for broken objects that weren't of use anymore.

Everything in the room was covered in a thick layer of dust, confirming Harry's suspicions that nobody had been in the corridor for a long time. Spiders scuttled away from the light of his wand into the dark corners, cobwebs were hanging from the ceiling.

Harry shuddered slightly, feeling suddenly uneasy. He had a prickling feeling of impeding danger in the back of his neck, but scolded himself for his paranoia. He was worse than Mad-Eye Moody!

Slowly, Harry took another few steps into the room, away from the open door and turned to examine the shelves more closely. There was a colourful piece of glass on the nearest shelf, and Harry wondered whether it had once belonged to a window.

A strange, rustling sound made Harry whirl around. Nobody was in the room. Harry took a few cautious steps toward the door.

"Hello?" he called softly. "Is anybody here?"

Silence. Harry gulped heavily, suddenly struck by a horrible sense of déjà vu. As if to spite him, a cold gust of wind swept through the room, raising the dust of years. Harry coughed and stumbled backward. Another gust of wind came through the opened door, this time accompanied by high, maniacal laughter.

Harry gasped in fright and tried to reach the door, but at that very moment it swung shut with a horrible screeching sound. The light on Harry's wand tip extinguished itself. Harry could feel his breathing quickening and the beginnings of panic rising in his throat as he pressed his back against the shelf.

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Harry drew his cloak about himself more tightly and gathered all his Gryffindor courage.

"Who- who is there?"

It was meant to come out strong and fearless, but Harry was dismayed at how terrified and helpless it sounded.

Another gust of cold wind came out of nothingness, pressing Harry mercilessly against the shelf. Harry gasped in pain. He couldn't breathe, the shelf was digging into his back, he was suffocating, he needed to get away from the wind- an old cauldron fell down from the shelf with an audible crash.

Harry winced at the sheer noise when the cauldron hit the floor. The pressure on his ribcage and the wind disappeared. Harry stood there, in the silence, breathing heavily.

The room was still pitch black, the door firmly locked. It was utterly silent. Too silent. Harry pushed himself away from the shelf and raised his wand.

"Lumos," he muttered. Nothing happened. Now, Harry was truly beginning to panic.

"Lumos." he tried again, a bit louder, but still without success. Harry shook his wand a little. Had it been damaged by the strange wind?

"LUMOS!" he yelled, almost desperately, but his wand did not even emit a spark.

A quiet chuckle sounded in the back of the room. Harry whirled around, trying to see something through the impenetrable darkness.

"Who are you?" he asked again, voice trembling slightly, as he lowered his now useless wand.

The chuckle sounded again, grew louder and louder, until Harry was surrounded by high-pitched, cold, maniacal cackles. They seemed to grow louder still, overwhelming Harry, consuming him. Harry backed away until he hit the shelf again, calling for help, yet nobody seemed to hear him.

Meanwhile, wind was picking up again in the room, and slowly, ever so slowly, his surroundings changed. He was in the graveyard again. Harry looked around in confusion and dread, wondering what he was doing in this place again.

His question was soon answered as two boys appeared out of nowhere, clutching a golden cup. Harry groaned in despair as realisation set in. It was himself and Cedric, the night of the TriWizard Tournament.

Harry watched in helpless rage as Cedric was killed, as Voldemort was resurrected and he was forced to duel with the Dark Lord. He watched as his parents came out of Voldemort's wand, and as he sprinted back across the graveyard, dodging the Deatheaters' curses.

Past-Harry and Cedric were whisked away by the portkey again, and Harry sank to the ground, trembling. What had happened? Why wasn't he at Hogwarts anymore? Why had he been forced to watch the third task again?

As if to answer some of his questions, the scenery around him slowly faded away, and Harry was left in the pitch black hallway.

An icy cold feeling passed through him, and Harry shuddered violently.

"Until we meet again, Harry Potter," a voice breathed against his ear- and then it was over.

His wand tip was lit, the temperature in the room returned to normal, the door sprung open soundlessly.

Harry sat on the ground for a few minutes, breathing heavily and still shivering. He could not comprehend what had just happened.

Shakily, Harry pushed himself up from the floor. Was he hallucinating again? Like he had the morning of his first Quidditch practice? Had it just been his imagination? Slowly, lost in thoughts, Harry began to make his way to the door- and immediately stumbled over the cauldron.

Harry cursed and stared at it. The cauldron was lying on the floor. So, had all this, the wind, the voice, the laughter, the graveyard, had it all been reality?

Harry thought back to his first encounter with the mysterious presence. The window had been open, even though he had closed it before. Was he not hallucinating after all? Was there something at Hogwarts, a- a bad ghost maybe, some kind of demon, haunting him?

But why would anyone, or anything, do that? Was Voldemort behind it all? Harry shook his head sharply, trying to clear away all his muddled thoughts. This was going too far. He had to tell the headmaster and his godparents about his, well, encounters.

Determinedly, Harry left the creepy corridor and closed the door behind himself firmly. It screeched. He realized that he had probably spent quite some time in the corridor and that breakfast would most likely be served at that very moment.

With those thoughts in his head, Harry began to sprint through the deserted hallways and toward the great hall.

When he had finally reached the great oak doors, Harry gave himself one minute to calm his breathing and straighten out his dishevelled robes. Then, squaring his shoulders, Harry stepped into the Great Hall- and stopped short in shock. He had been expecting to be the last person to arrive in the great hall, and the seats at the High Table were, indeed, occupied, all except for one, of course.

He had, however, not expected to see the Great Hall brimming full with people. The students' tables had been pushed back into their normal positions, smaller tables had been added in the corners, and hundreds of people were sitting at these tables.

But there were no students, Harry realized, only grown-ups. This confused him for a second, until he realized that all the people were wearing identical-looking uniforms: Black robes, lined with gold, and a blazing phoenix emblem on their cloaks.

With a jolt of amazement and awe, Harry realized that this had to be the entire Order of the Phoenix. Not the Council members, all of whom were sitting at the staff table, but the warriors. There were so many!

But Harry's presence in the great hall had not gone unnoticed. Before he could recover from the shock of seeing so many people he didn't know, one of those sitting at the head table had risen to his feet and was walking towards Harry. Harry found that he was looking somewhat familiar.....

"Dedalus Diggle, Mr. Potter, we've met before, do you remember?" And it hit Harry. Of course! Diggle had once bowed to him in a shop when he had not yet known anything about the magical world, and he had shaken his hand at the Leaky Cauldron almost exactly four years before!

Harry shook Diggle's hand dazedly. The man beamed.

"Mr. Potter, I, that is we, just wanted to thank you for saving our lives. I'm one of the eighty-six you saved from Azkaban." Diggle had still not released his hand.

".....Oh." Harry said, feeling stupid. "I mean, it was really my pleasure....." he added hastily, and to his great shock, Diggle actually hugged him. Then, the man stepped aside, and a rather young witch stepped forward, also thanking him profusely for saving her life, and hugging him.

A scraping sound of many chairs indicated that more people had stood up and come to thank him, and soon Harry was surrounded by a crowd of people all applauding him and cheering for him. Some even asked for his autograph, or told him what a honour it was to have him in the Order Council.

It took several loud bangs from Dumbledore's wand to calm everyone down again.

"Now, really," Dumbledore scolded, walking over to a very shaken Harry and putting a hand on his shoulder. "I understand that you all want to thank young Harry here, but he hasn't even had breakfast yet. I'm sure there will be many opportunities for everyone of you to talk to him in the following few days, but not all of you at once."

The Order members returned to their seats quietly, looking a little ashamed, and returned to their previous conversations. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and gave Dumbledore a small, grateful smile, which the headmaster returned brilliantly.

Dumbledore steered him over to the High table, where Harry dropped down in the seat between his godparents gratefully. They both gave him a sympathetic, and, in Sirius' case, slightly amused smile, but did not comment. Harry realized with a jolt that Sirius was still in human form, but supposed that all the Order members had been informed of his innocence. Also, Hagrid was absent.

"Sirius, Minerva, Remus, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, I need to talk to you after breakfast. Privately." Harry mumbled to the five of them. They all looked a little surprised, but nodded nonetheless.

Harry felt uncomfortable under the stares of the Order members and finished his breakfast as quickly as possible, nodding politely to Dedalus Diggle's constant chatter. Harry supposed that, whatever mission the man had been on, was complete. Then, Harry stood and left the great hall quickly, smiling weakly at all the people who were glancing at him on his way out.

It didn't take long for the others to join him in the entrance hall. They gathered around him and waited silently for whatever it was Harry wanted to tell them. But Harry felt a little nervous knowing that there were so many people in the great hall.

"Let's go somewhere where we can talk privately," he suggested.

The five adults nodded.

"I trust that my office will do," Dumbledore offered. "Follow me, please." The six of them were silent on their way. Harry contemplated how to tell them about his strange meetings with "The Voice", as he had come to call it.

Since Harry was so deep in thought, he didn't even notice when they arrived at the stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office until he bumped into Professor Snape. The Potions Master glared at Harry slightly, and for a brief moment Harry had the impression that he was going to take points from Gryffindor, before he suddenly looked slightly apologetic.

'Old habits die hard,' Harry thought to himself as he smiled at Snape reassuringly. Dumbledore gave the password and all of them stepped on to the moving staircase and through the wooden doors leading to the headmaster's office. To Harry's surprise, they didn't just stop there, instead Professor Dumbledore opened a door in the back of the office that Harry had never noticed before and motioned for them to follow him.

They appeared to be in some kind of living room. It was much more comfortable than the office, and Harry was grateful for that. He had found long ago that it was easier to tell something when one was feeling completely relaxed.

There was a fireplace on one wall of the room, while the outer wall of the castle was enchanted to show the scenery outside, like the ceiling in the great hall. The fantastic view over the Hogwarts grounds almost took Harry's breath away.

In the room, there stood a moderately-sized table. Placed around it were two couches (one with three seats, one with two seats) and an armchair directly in front of the fireplace.

Sirius and Remus sat down on the smaller couch, while Minerva, Dumbledore and Snape took the bigger one. That left Harry to take the armchair, which he did reluctantly. He couldn't help but feel that he was being interrogated somehow.

However, the gentle warmth of the flames made Harry relax back into the chair contentedly. There was something about the chair, Harry realized. It made him feel strangely at peace and he suddenly found himself willing to spill even his deepest secrets.

Harry smiled to himself when he realized that Dumbledore had led them into this room on purpose, and that it hadn't been coincidence that the other available seats in the room had been occupied so quickly.

But at the moment, Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He was grateful for the relaxing charms, or whatever they were, they would help him tell his story. Though he did ask himself if the manipulative headmaster had really been in Gryffindor.

Soft laughter from both couches alerted him to the fact that he had spoken that question out loud. Harry blushed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Professor! I didn't mean to say that....."

Dumbledore just smiled, his eyes twinkling brightly.

"Don't worry, my dear boy. The armchair has that effect on people, though most don't realize it. However, I don't assume that you asked all of us to come up here to discuss my former house?"

Harry blushed again and shook his head quickly.

"Of course not. It's something a little more serious."

"Fire away, Harry." Sirius prompted. Harry sighed and looked down at his hands for a few moments, biting his lip. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, thinking back to the time when he had first met The Voice.

"Professor Dumbledore," he asked quietly, "Are there any- well- bad ghosts in the castle? The kind that really tries to hurt people?"

He heard a sharp intake of breath and sat up a little straighter, seeing that all five adults were staring at him intently.

"Why are you asking me this, Harry?" the headmaster asked almost suspiciously. Seeing Harry's stubborn expression, he sighed. "Harry, do you know anything about the different kinds of ghosts? And why some people become ghosts after they die and others don't?"

Harry shook his head. Dumbledore sighed more deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

"You see, Harry," he began quietly, "There are really three different kinds of ghosts. There are the normal ghosts, like Nearly-Headless-Nick, or the Bloody Baron. Hogwarts has many of those, as you very well know."

Harry nodded his head affirmatively, and Dumbledore continued.

"Then, there are poltergeists. Peeves is one, obviously. What most people, mainly wizards, don't know, is that there is indeed a third kind of ghost, the Dark ghosts, or, as muggles sometimes call them, demons."

Harry's eyes widened in astonishment. Demons were real?! But the headmaster ignored Harry for the moment and continued his lecture.

"Now, Harry, you are probably wondering why some people become ghosts and others don't. And what kind of ghosts people can become, and why."

Harry nodded again.

"The truth is, Harry, that not too much is known about ghosts, even though they are a big and widely accepted part of the magical community. There are, however, two things, which all ghosts have in common: They did not accept their deaths, for whatever reasons, and they were unhappy when they died. Such people become ghosts. Do you understand so far, Harry?"

Harry nodded, hanging on Dumbledore's every word. The headmaster smiled briefly, seeing that he had Harry's full attention, and continued quickly.

"The majority of ghosts are normal ghosts and are completely harmless. That does not mean that they didn't do bad things when they were still alive. On the contrary, many of our Hogwarts resident ghosts have killed someone when they were still alive and could never get over their guilt. For example, let me tell you the tragic story of the four Hogwarts house ghosts:

"Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, of Gryffindor, known as Nearly-Headless Nick, Lady Selena van Grimstein, of Ravenclaw, known as the Grey Lady, Baron William James of Mindleson, of Slytherin, known as the Bloody Baron, and Brother John, of Hufflepuff, known rather unflatteringly as the Fat Friar."

Harry was astonished.

"They all knew each other when they were alive?"

Dumbledore smiled.

"Oh yes, my dear boy. They were also the first ghosts to ever haunt Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which is why each of them was assigned to one house, the house they had been in when they were still at school. And now, let me tell you the story of the house ghosts."

Harry nodded and leaned back in his chair, just listening.

"When Nicholas, Selena, William and John were still at school, they were all in the same year and good friends. Back then, there wasn't a very large magical population, and in each house there were only three or four students per year. House rivalries were not far developed at that time, and inter-house mingling was quite common and encouraged.

"The friendship of these four, even though they were in different houses, was not at all unusual. Everything went rather well until the four of them left Hogwarts and sadly parted ways. John went to become a friar, Nicholas went to see the world, and Selena and William both had to go back to their families who had high expectations of the two of them.

It wasn't until four years later that Selena and William got married. They hadn't really wanted to, but at that time arranged marriages were a common thing. Neither of them had had any choice in the matter. However, as the years passed, the two of them slowly grew fond of each other and finally fell in love. They even had two children together."

Dumbledore paused for a few moments, while Harry tried to digest everything he had just heard.

"Everything was perfect for the next fifteen years. Then, when Nicholas returned from his long journey around the world- strong, handsome, powerful, full of entertaining stories and extremely charismatic- Selena van Grimstein immediately fell in love with him. And he loved her back. They had an..... affair, for almost three years. Then, one fateful evening, William returned from his work in the parliament earlier than expected and found his wife and best friend in bed together."

Harry winced.

"That didn't go over well, did it?" Dumbledore shook his head slowly, a wan smile playing on his lips.

"No, my dear boy, it did not. Quite the contrary."

Dumbledore suddenly pulled out his wand and conjured up a tray of tea and cookies and took a sip from his cup before continuing.

"William confronted Nicholas in the entrance hall of his castle, which was packed with people who had heard of the happenings and had come to watch the consequences. By rights, William was allowed to kill Nicholas for cheating on him with his wife, and the population at that time was, as you probably know, very fond of executions.

"What ensued was a full-blown shouting match. The insults and accusations grew worse with time, and it was not long before the fight became physical, much to the delight of the on-lookers. Unfortunately, there was an axe on the wall, an old family heirloom of the 'of Mindlesons''. In his rage, William completely lost control and grabbed the axe, attempting to behead his best friend."

Harry gasped softly.

"Unfortunately for Nicholas, the axe was blunt. William hit him with it no less than forty-five times until Nicholas died, which was very painful for poor Nicholas and humiliating for both of them. However, after Nicholas had died, William realized what he had done, that he had just killed his best friend. He fled from the hall and the people and killed himself on the same day."

To say that Harry was shocked was an understatement. Dumbledore, however, had not finished.

"When Selena realized that both of the men she loved were dead, because they had fought over her, no less, she was extremely upset, needless to say. Plagued by guilt and sadness, she fled the castle and went to a nearby abbey. At that time, most witches and wizards were religious, as were most of the muggles. Selena told the Abbot, whom she could not see, but who was no other than her school friend John, about what had happened. She never gave John time to get over his shock and try to give her advice, she fled the abbey immediately after her confession and then drowned herself in the nearby river, the Hog."

Harry gasped again. This story was so tragic it almost didn't seem real.

"John, now the only one of the four friends left, followed Selena and tried to stop her, but he was too late. He made sure that she was buried between her husband and lover, and then went back to the abbey. John lived there for another two years. Try as he might, he could not shake the feelings of guilt that were eating him alive.

"He berated himself for having lost contact with his three best friends after Hogwarts, berated himself for not stopping William from killing Nicholas and then committing suicide , berated himself for not keeping Selena from drowning herself. He could not stand the guilt anymore, and one evening, he decided to end his life and took poison. His body was buried at Selena's, William's and Nicholas's feet."

Dumbledore sighed and took another sip from his tea.

"None of them ever found peace for different reasons. Nicholas could not get over his painful and humiliating murder, he could not accept his death. William never got over the knowledge that he had killed his best friend, he could not accept what he had done. Both Selena and John were plagued by their guilt and could not rest in peace because of that. All of them became ghosts, condemned to forever haunt the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, because this is where their story began."

Silence filled the small room for a while, everyone was lost in their own thoughts. It was Harry who finally broke the peace of the moment.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said softly, "What about the other kinds of ghosts?"

Dumbledore sighed as he leaned back into the cushions of the couch.

"Ah, yes. Poltergeists. Well, Harry, you have seen now that normal ghosts are not really evil even though they may have done bad things in their lifetime. They are simply lost souls plagued by their conscience who can never find peace- though that does not mean that they cannot be happy. Our four house ghosts, for example, have long ago forgiven each other and are now friends again.

"But I was going to tell you about poltergeists. Ah, yes, poltergeists..... Harry, surely by now you have noticed the main difference between Peeves and, say, Nearly-Headless Nick?"

Harry nodded as he bit his lip thoughtfully for a few moments.

"Yes, Peeves can touch things, whereas Nick and the others just float through everything. Peeves can rattle armours and the like. Also, he seems to enjoy tormenting students very much." Harry added doubtfully.

Dumbledore beamed with pride.

"Excellent, Harry! And that is exactly the point. Peeves was once a normal ghost, just like Nick. But while Nick and the others accepted their existence as ghosts, Peeves could never do that. He envied the humans living in this castle because they were still alive, much like our caretaker envies all of you students for your ability to do magic.

"Peeves envied the living people so much that he wanted to make their life miserable. He started with taunts and insults, and over time he managed to solidify his body again through pure will power so that he was able to touch again.

"Poltergeists are really the most pitiful beings in existence, together with the dementors. Because Poltergeists are neither dead nor alive, they are stuck between two worlds, unable to enter one and unwilling to enter the other. There are few poltergeists in existence, because there are few ghosts who resent their second life, as the ghost-being is called, so much, that they can solidify. Also, most of the normal ghosts don't envy wizards for their body, because most of them feel they deserved death even though they cannot accept death itself."

Harry nodded.

"What about Moaning Myrtle?" he asked curiously. "She seemed to be envious of us sometimes in second year. Will she become a poltergeist one day?"

Dumbledore chuckled.

"Oh no, my dear boy! While I agree that Myrtle is most likely a little envious, she does not have the necessary willpower to become a poltergeist. No, no..... none of the ghosts in the castle will ever become poltergeists- aside from Peeves, of course, who already is one."

Harry nodded again. He was reluctant to bring up the next question, but knew that it had to be done.

"Professor Dumbledore, what about the third kind of ghosts? The demons?"

Dumbledore nodded grimly.

"The demons. I must confess, Harry, that I do not know too much about them. Nobody does, and, as I already told you, most wizards doubt their existence. That is mainly because demons are so rare. There is only about one demon every millennium. It is curious that muggles once knew of the demons' existence, whereas wizards have always turned a blind eye."

Harry frowned.

"But today, muggles don't really believe in demons anymore, like wizards. They consider demons, ghosts, and everything else that has to do with magic, fairytales. How did they forget?"

Dumbledore sighed again, deeply this time.

"Ah, Harry, the problem with most wizards is that they consider themselves superior to muggles and the other living beings. Many can't accept that there are creatures who might be even more powerful and dangerous than they are. So wizards refused to acknowledge the demons' presence.

"Muggles, on the other hand, lived in harmony with nature for a long time. They recognised demons when they saw them, they had the good sense to stay away from them. It wasn't until many centuries later that the muggles began to find alternatives to magic. They developed their admittedly impressive technology so far that they are by now almost equal to magical beings, and with their increasing ability to control and influence everything around them, they made the same mistake the wizards made centuries before:

"They began to think of themselves as better than anything else. It is sad really, but soon they forgot about the existence of magic and ghosts and demons, leaving only the fairytales behind. Most wizards today don't even know what demons are."

Harry nodded again. So, it was arrogance that had made the muggles forget about magic. And it was the same arrogance that had made wizards resent the idea of an existence of beings who might be more powerful than them; demons.

"Professor- what are demons?"

Dumbledore furrowed his brows.

"Harry, very little is known about the origin of demons. Fact is, that they were once wizards or witches striving for immortality. Nobody has ever succeeded in becoming fully immortal, at least no human being, but there are people who have come close, very close.

"My friend Nicholas Flamel, for example, with his development of the Philosopher's Stone. He found a relatively safe method. Your ancestor, Godric Gryffindor himself, was also looking for a way to achieve eternal life, though nothing is known about whether or not he succeeded. But there are other, darker ways, Harry. There are magical rituals so horrible and dangerous that you wouldn't understand them, that are rumoured to be able to give people eternal life. Many wizards have undergone them, but most of them have died, either in the process or simply from old age.

"There are, however, a few who succeeded, at least partially. Only the most powerful ever came this far. They did not manage to keep their bodies, but after their death, were able to somehow continue existing as evil spirits, or demons. Demons have no body, and like ghosts, are unable to touch. They do, however, posses a considerable amount of magical powers, and in rare cases are even able to possess the bodies of living beings."

Harry could feel his throat constrict almost painfully. What Dumbledore had told him about demons so far fit exactly in the description of The Voice.

Silence reigned the small room for some time. Everyone was still trying to absorb what they had just heard.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said finally, "What was it that you wanted to tell us about?"

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"It started the day of my first Quidditch practice," he said quietly, trying to remember exactly what had happened. "I took my morning swim, as usual. But when I returned to my room, someone knocked on the portrait hole. I quickly threw on some clothes and called for them to come in, but nobody came."

Harry paused for a moment.

"After a few seconds, I went over and opened the portrait myself, but nobody was there."

Sirius raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

"And that's it? Harry, while I admit that this is strange, it was probably just a house elf or something-"

Harry glared slightly at his godfather. "Sirius, that was not all! Let me finish."

Sirius grinned apologetically.

"As I said, nobody was there. Just as I was about to step outside, the window behind me slammed open. I whirled around and approached it, when the temperature in the room suddenly seemed to drop and an icy gust of wind went through it. Then, the portrait hole behind me slammed shut as well. By that time, I was starting to panic, and then there was laughter, high, cold, evil laughter, it sounded like Voldemort's....."

Harry shuddered and took a deep breath.

"I yelled 'STOP!' as loudly as I could- and it really did stop. The temperature was back to normal, the laughter was gone, the wind had died down- but the window was still open."

Harry heard Dumbledore take in a sharp breath.

"Harry, why didn't you tell us? You should have told us immediately! This was important!"

Harry cringed at the headmaster's uncharacteristically harsh words and tone.

"I'm sorry," he said awkwardly, "I thought I was hallucinating at the time. Of course, the window was still open, but I convinced myself that I had opened it earlier and forgotten about it. And Merlin, the portrait that is, said that nobody had been there. I really thought it hadn't been real!"

The five others nodded.

"What changed your mind?" Remus asked quietly.

Harry sighed again.

"This morning, when I was going down to breakfast, I had another encounter with that- thing. It happened in the third floor corridor. You know, the one that was out of bounds in first year?"

The three Hogwarts professors nodded. Remus and Sirius just looked confused.

"Harry, whatever possessed you to go into that corridor?" Minerva asked with a frown. "It isn't on the way from the infirmary to the Great Hall."

Harry shook his head and smiled sheepishly. "I know, I just- saw the door on the other end of the corridor- and I wondered what was behind it when there was no three-headed dog guarding one of the most valuable and dangerous items ever in existence-"

His godmother shook her head.

"You do know they say that curiosity killed the kneazle, Harry," she sighed.

"Harry," Sirius interrupted, "What are you talking about? Three-headed dogs? Guarding? A dangerous item?"

Harry groaned inwardly.

"That's a long story, Sirius, and it's not important right now. I'll tell you later some time, alright?"

Sirius looked like he wanted to argue, but Remus elbowed him in the ribs and shook his head.

Harry continued.

"So, I entered the corridor and lit my wand, as there were no windows in the room. It was apparently used as some kind of junk store room, everything I could see in there was either old, or broken, or both."

Again, the Professors nodded in affirmation. Harry frowned.

"This is when the strange things began happening again. You see, I'd just stepped closer to one of the boards, when suddenly the door slammed shut behind me. The temperature in the room dropped, the light on my wand died down, and the strange wind picked up again, coming out of nowhere.

"Then, I could suddenly hear the strange cackling again, and I panicked, and suddenly I was thrown backwards against the shelves and held there by an invisible force. By the time it finally released me, a cauldron had fallen to the ground, I'd nearly been suffocated, and my back hurt like hell."

Harry grimaced at the pain he was still feeling. Dumbledore frowned and leaned forward in his seat.

"Harry, please take off your shirt."

Harry obeyed with a sigh and turned around, letting the room's occupants see his back. There were five gasps.

"What is it?" Harry asked anxiously. Dumbledore gave him a rather tight- lipped and not-quite-reassuring smile.

"There is a bruise on your back from where the shelf must have been. It is rather severe. Please allow me to tend to it."

Harry shrugged and nodded. Dumbledore pulled out his wand and touched it gently to Harry's back. He muttered a few well-chosen words, and the pain disappeared with a faint tingling sensation. Harry sighed in relief and pulled his shirt back on.

Dumbledore resumed his seat on the couch. He motioned for Harry to continue his story.

"So, as I was saying, the force released me, but the wind and laughter did not cease. On the contrary, they became louder and stronger, they began to overwhelm me until I thought I would black out, and then, suddenly, the scenery around me changed. I was no longer in the dark store room, I was on the graveyard."

Nobody in the room needed to ask what 'the graveyard' was. Harry stared into the flames for a few moments.

"I didn't know what I was doing there, until two boys appeared out of nowhere, clutching a cup.....It was Cedric and I.

"I watched," he said quietly. "I had to watch the night of the third task, until I- that is, my past self- disappeared with Cedric's body and the cup. Then, the scene faded again and I was back in the store room. I heard a voice whisper, 'Until we meet again, Mr. Potter.' and then it was over. The temperature was back to normal, the door reopened, my wand was lit- but the cauldron was still on the floor."

Dumbledore released a sharp breath and leaned back on the couch, apparently in deep thought. The room's occupants didn't make a sound, knowing that the headmaster was the one most likely to figure out who, or what, the mysterious ghost-like being was.

They sat in silence for almost five minutes, tension mounting by the second. Harry began to fidget in his armchair, hardly able to stand the uneasiness in the room. Everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief when the headmaster seemed to come to a decision and sat up straighter.

"Harry. After everything you have told us, it seems to me that we do indeed have a dark ghost here at Hogwarts. Though there are parts that make no sense to me." Dumbledore paused for a moment, letting his words sink in.

"Firstly, the being has already attacked you twice. Twice in two days, if you don't count the time you spent in the infirmary. Even dark ghosts are not usually that hostile, unless the humans have done something to offend them. And then, they usually attack randomly, they don't focus their anger on one victim."

Harry gulped. Somehow, the headmaster's words didn't reassure him at all. He clutched the armrests of his chair tightly.

"Secondly, there aren't supposed to be any demons in this time. Voldemort was half-demon, with some of a demon's abilities, before he regained his body a few weeks ago, even though I doubt that he is aware of this fact. The last full demon existed one thousand five hundred years ago- a wizard named Septimius, he was destroyed in the year 495. In the past millennium, there haven't been too many dark wizards. And none of them, aside from Septimius and Voldemort, were able to become demons, though they all strived for immortality. Not even Grindelwald, who was possibly the most powerful dark lord after Septimius and Voldemort, managed."

Harry swallowed again. He had known from Professor Binns's history lessons that Grindelwald had indeed been a VERY powerful wizard. The fact that not even he had had enough power to become a demon was highly disconcerting- how much power did the demon that haunted Harry possess? But Dumbledore wasn't done.

"Thirdly, and most importantly, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, intently, "Even a demon shouldn't be able to make you see your worst memory. Such a spell requires a lot of power, more power than even a demon should have, and the demon must know you fairly well. It must have been watching you for quite some time now."

Harry closed his eyes. No, no, no. This wasn't happening to him. Was a dark wizard who was after his blood not enough? Wasn't it enough that he, Harry, a not-even-fifteen-damn-years-old wizard was burdened with the destiny of destroying said dark wizard, who was the most powerful of his kind in a long time? Did he need a crazy demon-ghost on top of everything?

"Harry," Dumbledore said seriously, "I probably don't have to tell you how serious this situation is. The demon, whoever it is, is obviously powerful enough to hurt, and maybe even possess you." Dumbledore sighed and leaned back on the couch. "From now on, you can't go anywhere alone. Someone must always be with you, even at night. I'm sorry, Harry, but it's for your own good."

Harry groaned. Great. It seemed like a repeat of third year, when teachers had made up excuses to follow him around everywhere to protect him from the mass murderer Sirius Black. Had he not been in such a bad mood, Harry might have laughed hysterically.

Dumbledore looked apologetic.

"I really am sorry, Harry, but there is no other way." Harry sighed and nodded. Everyone lapsed into silence again, lost in their own thoughts. Harry couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had missed something, he knew it..... something important...... really important.....

*Your mother is coming, Harry..... She wants to see you..... hold on......*

*I killed your father first..... he put up a courageous fight.....*

*Do you understand, Harry?*

*One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed- in reverse. The most recent first..... and then those which preceded it.....*

*The most recent first.....*

*Do you understand, Harry?*

*Do you understand?*

*Understand?*

*UNDERSTAND?*

Harry gasped loudly.

"But- that's impossible! That's simply impossible! Why would he lie? Why? He was gloating about it, it doesn't make sense, he came out first-"

Harry stopped when he realized that he was rambling and that the others didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

"Harry?" Minerva asked uncertainly. "Are you alright?"

Harry nodded, feeling breathless from his discovery.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just- it doesn't make any sense!"

Professor Snape leaned forward.

"What does not make any sense?" he asked a little sharply. The familiar tone of voice served to snap Harry out of his daze.

"The Priori Incantatem!" Harry blurted out.

"The Priori Incantatem?" said Dumbledore with a slight frown. "Please explain yourself, Harry."

Harry was breathing heavily.

"The- it's just, Professor Dumbledore, I just realized- the night of the TriWizard Tournament, I told you what happened, the Priori Incantatem-"

Dumbledore nodded patiently.

"Well, now that the demon made me relive those memories, I realized that something was not right!"

Harry paused for a moment, trying to gather his rather jumbled thoughts and emotions.

"Professor Dumbledore, you remember how you told me what Priori Incantatem does? That it makes echoes of spells the wand cast appear, in reverse order?"

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes fixed on Harry's face intently.

"And you all know how Voldemort killed my parents? How he killed my Dad first, and then my Mum?"

Everyone nodded.

"Well, that can't be right, because on the graveyard my Dad's echo came out of the wand before my Mum's!"

Stunned silence followed that statement. One could have heard a pin drop.

"Are you quite sure about this, Harry?" Dumbledore asked sharply.

"Positive."

Dumbledore drew in a sharp breath.

"Then that is indeed quite curious," he said quietly. "Please stay here for a moment, I will be right back."

The headmaster stood and swept out of the room quickly. Nobody talked, or even moved for about two minutes, until Dumbledore returned, a heavy old volume in his hands. He resumed his seat, put the book down in the table and opened the index. Harry's gaze followed the headmaster's long finger as it slowly glided down the page. It stopped somewhere in the 'P'-section. Harry squinted a little, trying to see where exactly.

'Priori Incantatem, the reverse-spell effect, page 937'

Dumbledore leafed through the book, stopping somewhere halfway through and pushing his half-moon spectacled higher up his nose. He read silently for a few minutes. Minerva and Snape leaned over his shoulders, trying to read as well. After a few minutes Dumbledore shut the book with a bang, making Harry flinch slightly.

"Harry," the old headmaster said wearily, "It is as I thought. The Priori Incantatem does not produce echoes of spells in the order in which they were cast. Now, most people, including myself until a few minutes ago, don't know about this. It is usually not important either, because most of the time, it doesn't make a difference. Spells tend to take effect in the order they are cast. Just in this case, they apparently did not."

Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his seat.

"You see, Harry, the Priori Incantatem is very rare. Not only because most wands don't have more than one brother and those two wands are more often than not sold many decades apart, but also because the two people who wield the wands must be very similar."

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence Harry's vehement protest.

"Now, I know you don't like to hear this, Harry, but you do realize that there are a lot of similarities between yourself and Tom Riddle. Which doesn't change the fact that you are a very good person, and Voldemort is not. However, this is not what I was trying to say. When two people are similar, they usually also make the same decisions. In other words, it is highly unusual, even unheard of, to have to brother wands fighting each other on different sides of a war."

Harry frowned. He had known that Priori Incantatem was rare, but he hadn't thought it was THAT rare.

"Harry." Harry returned his attention to the present and to his headmaster. "There has only ever been one case before which was similar to your and Tom Riddle's case. In 281 B.C., two wizards with brother wands duelled each other in a friendly combat. One of them had cast a shielding spell on himself, which protected him from certain curses. Now, the other wizard shot such a curse, a Confusion curse, and it had trouble getting through the shield. While the curse was still trying to get through, the wizard shot another curse, a tickling charm, this one was not blocked by the shield, and hit seconds before the first curse finally managed to shatter the protection and hit its target."

Dumbledore paused for a second, giving everyone time to digest that information.

"Not much later, both wizards shot curses at the same time, and their wands connected. The wizard who had cast the shielding charm, though less powerful magically, won the battle of wills, and so his opposite's wand was forced to regurgitate the spells it cast in reverse order. Imagine their surprise when the Confusion Curse's echo came out of the wand before the tickling charm!"

Harry nodded.

"So, the wand really produces echoes of spells in the order they took effect, not in the order they were cast."

Dumbledore beamed.

"Exactly, my boy! And do you know what that means?"

Harry stared straight ahead unseeingly for a few moments, hardly daring to believe the consequences this one discovery brought with it.

"My Dad survived the killing curse," he whispered to himself, with difficulty. "Sweet Merlin, he wasn't dead! He survived..... he was alive....."

Harry felt numb. Numb and dizzy. His head was buzzing with thoughts and confusion, his mind screaming how impossible that was, his breathing ragged.....

Someone shook his shoulder roughly. Harry snapped out of his daze.

"...Sorry?" he muttered distractedly. Sirius was kneeling in front of his armchair.

"Harry, are you alright?"

Harry's eyes glazed over slightly.

"Yeah, I'm right..... I mean, I'm alright....." Harry heard a faint snort, and then someone was pressing a bottle to his lips and tilted his head back. Harry swallowed reflexively. Immediately, the world slipped back into focus. Harry blinked, feeling confused.

"What happened?"

Professor Snape stood back up and pocketed the bottle in his hands.

"You were going into shock," he stated matter-of-factly, "Be glad that I always have a few first-aid potions with me, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled.

"Thank you."

He turned his attention to Dumbledore.

"Professor, is it really true? Did my Dad survive the killing curse?"

Dumbledore looked pensive.

"It certainly seems so, from what we know," he said, a thoughtful frown on his face. "And that explains a lot."

Harry furrowed his brows in confusion.

"I don't understand, Professor," he confessed quietly.

Dumbledore smiled a little.

"Harry, I'm afraid that I must admit to not telling you the whole truth when we were discussing Voldemort's defeat a few weeks ago. I assume that Voldemort told you that you survived that fateful Halloween night because of your mother's protection?"

Harry nodded with a frown. What was Dumbledore getting at?

"Well, Harry, he didn't tell you everything, though I'm not sure if he even knows. Of course, Lily's sacrifice helped protect your life when the killing curse hit you, but it wasn't the sole reason for your survival. Many mothers died for their children in the time of Voldemort's reign, and two or three of them even cast the Praesidium Sensus. Yet none of their children lived. I have wondered for years what it was that made you so special, and I think we now have the answer."

Harry was still feeling confused. Dumbledore's eyes were still twinkling.

"I already told you that Godric Gryffindor tried to achieve immortality while he was still alive. It seems that even though he has not succeeded, some of his protections against death have been passed down in the Gryffindor lineage. Your father, apparently, very nearly survived Avada Kedavra. It was your Gryffindor blood, combined with Lily's 'Praesidium Sensus' -incantation, that saved your life fourteen years ago."

Harry nodded, solemnly. He suddenly felt the unbearable urge to take a walk outside and clear his head.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, "I'd like to go outside for a while, alone. Would that be possible?" Immediately, Minerva, Sirius Remus and Snape protested. But Dumbledore held up his hands to silence them.

"I don't think it will be a problem," the headmaster said firmly. "As long as someone escorts you to the castle doors. Demons, unless they are possessing anyone, are bound to one place, a building most of the time. In the case of our demon, he is obviously bound to Hogwarts. You are free to walk on the grounds whenever you like. But, Harry, as soon as you decide to re-enter the castle, call either Minerva, Severus, Sirius, Remus or myself. You mustn't be alone in the castle, do you understand?"

Harry nodded, feeling relieved.

"Thank you, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled and glanced at his watch.

"Dear me! Look at the time! Harry, I think you should take your walk after lunch. We are already late."

Harry sighed, he longed for fresh air, hoping it would clear his head, but nodded. They left the cosy living room and went back through the headmaster's office and down the moving staircase.

Harry was silent the whole way to the great hall. Too many thoughts were crammed into his mind. His head was starting to hurt. Harry ignored the whispers and stares of the Order members and plopped down in his seat at the high table.

He ate quickly and silently. None of the other people sitting at the head table interrupted him, seemingly understanding that Harry wanted, needed, to be left alone for a while. Harry finished his meal before anyone else and quickly excused himself. He left the Great Hall (leaving the doors open) and crossed the Entrance Hall. This time, no strange voice appeared out of nowhere, no one attacked Harry, the temperature of the room stayed the same. Harry opened the Front doors with a small sigh of relief and stepped outside.

It was a nice day. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees in the nearby forest, bumblebees and butterflies soared through the air. It was warm outside and Harry felt grateful that he had only worn shorts and a T- shirt.

Almost automatically, Harry's feet carried him slowly into the direction of the gardens. He admired the rose bushes as he passed by and stopped to watch two young rabbits play in the back of the garden with a smile.

The air was heavy and tasted sweet with summer warmth and the smell of flowers surrounding him. With a content sigh, Harry lay down on a patch of grass and closed his eyes, enjoying the sun. He allowed his jumbled thoughts to consume him for a while, straightening them out as well as he could. At the same time, he had a feeling that he had forgotten something important- something to do with the gardens..... but Harry really couldn't be bothered right now, he had enough on his plate.

Lying lazily in the sunshine and watching the small insects all around him made Harry feel content and heavy with tiredness. After a few minutes, he allowed his eyelids to droop.....

~*~

Something tickled his nose. Harry waved it away indignantly, still half asleep. But only a few seconds later, the annoying sensation returned. Harry scrunched up his face and sneezed, effectively waking himself up.

Grumbling to himself, he opened his eyes and sat up, just in time to see a small butterfly speeding away from him.

Sighing to himself, Harry realized that the sun had moved from its previous position quite a bit. It had to be around four o'clock in the afternoon. That meant that he still had a few hours until dinner and the Order Council Meeting.

Harry got up and stretched lazily, then leaned against the tree. Again, he had the strange feeling that he had forgotten something important, something to do with the garden...... Biting his lip, he tried to remember what it was.

A small bird sang in a nearby hedge..... Hedge? The secret garden! The Realm of the Four! Harry could have hit himself for forgetting. All traces of tiredness falling away quickly, he began to sprint through the gardens. The way seemed to be endless. Had it been that long when he had been there the first time?

Growling in frustration, Harry slowed down. It would not do to tire himself out, Madam Pomfrey would have his head. Forcing himself to walk at a normal pace, Harry strained his eyes, trying to spot the hedge surrounding the last garden.

After a few more minutes of walking, it loomed ahead. Harry smiled in excitement and relief and sped up just a little. He reached the hedge in no time and began searching it carefully for the section where the leaves were thinning.

He stuck his hand through the curtain of leaves and watched in wonder as the hedge opened up again.

Everything was as he remembered it, only that the gate was suddenly very clean. Not a speck of dust or moss was on it, and Harry found himself wondering who had cleaned it. Had someone else been at this place?

Shrugging, Harry pushed against the gate. At first he thought it wouldn't budge, but then it slowly swung open with a terrible screeching sound.

'Well,' Harry thought dryly, 'Whoever cleaned this gate sure forgot to oil its hinges.'

The strange mist wafted around Harry as he entered the secret garden. Frowning slightly, Harry asked himself if he had to take the stupid test again- when a golden glow appeared in front of him again.

"Welcome, Harry Potter, to the Realm of the Four. Follow me, please." The sweet, gentle voice that had already greeted him at his last visit had reappeared. Shrugging to himself, Harry decided to follow its order. Unlike the last time, the fog had not dissipated, and walking off on his own would only get him lost.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Harry was just starting to get impatient and contemplating if he should try to talk to the golden glow, when a huge shape appeared in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere. Harry squinted, trying to make out what it was, but the fog was too dense.

Unconsciously, Harry sped up a little, and suddenly the fog around him fell away, leaving him standing in front of- Harry gasped.

It was a castle, not quite as big as Hogwarts, but still enormous. Pure white, the roofs and shutters seemingly made of gold, the countless windows sparkling in the sunshine, it was a sight that would have stunned even the Dark Lord himself into silence.

"If you are done gaping at the castle like an idiot, please follow me inside." The golden glow commented dryly. Harry sputtered in indignation, but the glow was already speeding ahead.

"Well, I bet you were stunned by this castle the first time you saw it, too, you overgrown light bulb," Harry muttered indignantly.

The golden glow stopped suddenly and flew back until it was hovering mere inches in front of Harry's face.

"What was that?" The voice came again, somehow less sweet and more dangerous. Harry gulped as the light swelled and was suddenly twice its original size.

"Um, I said, 'Wow, look at the sun, it looks like an overgrown light bulb'?"

The light shrunk again and Harry had the strange feeling that it was looking at him weirdly.

"Alright, then," the voice said, back to its sweet self. Then- "What is a light bulb?"

Harry sighed.

"Never mind. Aren't you going to take me into the castle?"

The light bobbed up and down in midair, as if it was nodding, then sped away from Harry again.

'Demons, worshipping Order members, people surviving Avada Kedavra, talking light bulbs- can this day get any more weird?'

~*~

The entrance Hall was enormous. Lined with marble pillars, the ceiling see- through, like Hogwarts's, golden chandeliers floating in mid-air, the walls a blinding white, the floor covered in a thick, royal blue carpeting- Harry felt as though he had entered a fairytale. The golden glow waited patiently for a few moments, then it sped away again, up a marble staircase on Harry's right. Tearing his eyes away from the stunning castle, Harry hurriedly followed it.

Portraits lined the walls of the numerous corridors they were passing. Portraits of fairies, unicorns, dragons and phoenixes, but also of humans. Some of them seemed quite familiar to Harry, though he didn't have time to ponder why.

After a few minutes, Harry was hopelessly lost. They seemed to be going in circles as far as he was concerned, hurrying up some staircases, then down again, taking left turns, then right turns, then left again- not even Hogwarts had been this confusing in the beginning.

After a few more minutes of seemingly senseless running, they came to an abrupt halt in front of gigantic wooden doors. They were very dark, ebony, Harry guessed. The glow seemed to be eyeing him expectantly.

"What," Harry asked. "Do you want me to knock?"

The glow bobbed up and down in midair. Harry took that as a yes. Taking a deep breath and inwardly steeling himself for any unpleasant surprises to come, Harry raised his fist and knocked three times on the doors.

The sound echoed strangely through the hallway, despite there being carpets and curtains, and Harry could not suppress a slight shudder. Slowly, and completely noiselessly, the doors swung open.

Harry stared in awe at the room in front of him. It was gigantic, as far as he could see. The ceiling was high, almost as high as the ceiling in Hogwarts's great hall, but it was solid, painted beautifully like the dark night sky. The walls of the room were lined with bookshelves. Harry had no doubt that there were even more books than in Hogwarts's library.

The wall across from Harry was one huge window. Through the glass front, one could overlook the strange secret garden and a good portion of the Hogwarts grounds. Squinting slightly, Harry even thought that he could make out the castle itself in the distance.

In the left part of the room, there stood a long table with many empty chairs around it.. Several ancient looking tomes were placed on it every two or three chairs. The three books closest to him read, 'Potions', 'Transfigurations' and 'Charms'. Harry frowned in puzzlement.

Someone cleared his throat behind Harry. Harry gasped and whirled around. The right side of the room was furnished with a couch and two armchairs, all of them very comfortable looking. A small table stood in-between them. On the wall, there was the biggest fireplace Harry had ever seen. A nice, antique-looking clock hang on the wall above it.

And on the couch and in one of the armchairs, there were four people.

The one in the armchair was a man, tall, slim, with long, dark hair and rather pale skin, eyes piercing and blue, not unlike Dumbledore's. He was looking at Harry with a tiny smile on his face.

On his left sat another man with dark blond, shoulder-length hair, tanned skin and friendly, light blue eyes. He, too, was rather tall and slim, though definitely muscular. Unlike the other man, he was smiling broadly, his eyes twinkling, again reminding Harry of Hogwarts's esteemed headmaster.

On the man's left sat a woman. She had long, pitch black hair, light green eyes, and rather pale skin. She, too, was smiling gently at Harry, looking strangely– wise at the same time. Harry got the feeling that this woman could see into his very soul and began to ask himself if he was somehow looking at Dumbledore's ancestors.

The couch's third occupant was another woman. Unlike the other three, she seemed to be rather short and a little plump and reminded Harry uncannily of Mrs. Weasley with her red hair, freckled skin and kind face. She was positively beaming at Harry.

All of them seemed to be in their mid-thirties.

"Um, hi," Harry said awkwardly, "I'm sorry to intrude, but the- the glow told me to follow-"

Harry trailed off when he realized that the glow had conveniently disappeared. A deep chuckle behind him roused him from his thoughts. It was the man with the dark blond hair.

"Don't mind Keereelalia," the man said, getting up from his seat and walking towards Harry. "She always goes where she wants. Keereelalia is a faerie."

He paused in front of Harry and stuck out his hand.

"I'm pleased to meet you, young man, you must be Harry Potter, the boy who passed our test so easily a few days ago. I think it is safe to say that you impressed Keereelalia, even though she would never admit it. Oh yes, I am Godric Gryffindor, and these are Salazar Slytherin" – he pointed to the man in the armchair- "Rowena Ravenclaw" – he pointed to the dark-haired woman- "and Helga Hufflepuff." – he indicated the woman who reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley.

Harry gaped at the four people and slowly started to back away. Now he knew why all those portraits had seemed so familiar. He had seen them in his history book.

"Oh please, don't be frightened," the dark-haired woman, Ravenclaw, spoke up. "We are not going to hurt you, Harry. I realize that it must be a shock for you, seeing us here alive, but I can assure you that we are not completely real. We are memories, so to speak, of Godric, Salazar, Helga and Rowena when they were thirty-six. We have been around for more than a thousand years, and we will be around for all eternity unless something goes wrong. We are really not more than ghosts, even though we are, of course, solid."

Harry's back had hit a wall. He pointed shakily towards 'Slytherin'.

"He- he is evil," he said, half questioningly, half accusingly.

Slytherin huffed indignantly as he stood up.

"No, I'm not," he said, "at least not yet. I do realize that my older self went 'evil', as you call it- strived for immortality, built the Chamber of Secrets, learned Dark Magic, despised muggle-born students- but I am still a light wizard. Believe me, Harry, had I been a dark wizard from the start, those three here would not have allowed me to found Hogwarts with them. I do not know what triggered the change of mind, as there are no reliable sources on it, and I never got a chance to talk to my older self while he was still alive. I am also aware of the havoc my so-called heir was causing a few years ago- I am deeply sorry about that, and I assure you, I had nothing to do with it."

Something in the man's eyes told Harry that he was telling the truth, and he relaxed a little.

"Why don't you sit down first, Harry, and then we can talk." A kind voice spoke up. It was Helga Hufflepuff. Harry sighed and pushed himself away from the wall. He walked over to the free armchair and sat down warily, still eyeing the four 'memories'.

Slytherin and Gryffindor resumed their seats as well.

"Right," Gryffindor said briskly, "Why don't you tell us something about yourself and the outside world, Harry? It is so seldom that we get visitors here. The last one was, what, sixteen years ago?"

"Really?" Harry's interest was perked. "Who was it?"

Ravenclaw smiled almost dreamily.

"A young girl, very nice young lady, in her last year at Hogwarts- a Gryffindor. Her name was Lily Evans. Do you know her? She was visiting quite regularly even after she had graduated, we know that she was pregnant and she even once brought her new-born son here- and then she suddenly disappeared. We never heard from her agai- are you alright?"

Harry stared at the table unseeingly. He was only dimly aware of what Ravenclaw was saying. His mother had been here! These- people- had known her! His mother- oh my god oh my god oh my god- A sharp pain on his cheek snapped him out of his daze. Slytherin was standing in front of him.

"Sorry 'bout that, Harry," he said apologetically, "You were in a daze. It was the only thing I could think of."

Harry nodded dazedly, absentmindedly rubbing his stinging cheek.

"Care to explain to us, Harry, why this news shocked you so much?" Gryffindor asked, eyeing Harry curiously. Harry bowed his head. Could he trust these people? But then again, they had known his mother, and she had obviously trusted them.

"I-"Harry started quietly, but broke off. "She- I mean, she is- well, she was- my mother."

Four gasps could be heard. Suddenly, Harry found himself in a bone-crushing hug from Hufflepuff.

"You're her son! Of course, you're Harry! Oh, Harry, it's so good to see you again, I haven't seen you in fourteen years!"

Harry felt a little uncomfortable and was glad when Hufflepuff let go.

"So, um-"Harry said uncomfortably, after she had settled down again. "Who else was here?"

Slytherin answered.

"After your mother? No one, actually. It was starting to get quite dull here until you came. Before your mother, there were a few people, though not as many as you would think in thousand years."

He paused and leaned back in his seat. "Let's see. Before your mother came here, my- heir- tried to gain entrance to this place when he was in his fourth year. However, he did not pass the test. He killed the spider, the kitten, and even the unicorn."

Harry gasped slightly, knowing what crime it was to kill such a pure creature.

"Before my heir, there was a sixteen-year-old boy called Albus Dumbledore. He was very bright, powerful too, definitely a good man. But he was denied access to this place many years later, after he had committed his first kill, sadly."

Harry frowned.

"Dumbledore? You forbade Dumbledore to come here? Why?"

"Because he killed, Harry," Hufflepuff explained patiently. "Nobody who has willingly killed another being is allowed to enter here. That the being was the dark wizard Grindelwald and that Albus's kill was for the good does unfortunately not matter here. It's the rules, you know?"

Harry lowered his head.

"But- I killed, too, I mean, it's my fault that Cedric died-"he said quietly.

"I doubt that," Gryffindor explained cheerfully, "You wouldn't have been allowed to set foot on this land if you had killed anyone. Does this Cedric's death have anything to do with whatever happened to Lily?"

Harry sighed.

"I guess you could say that. Well, indirectly."

The founders looked at him with raised eyebrows. Harry groaned in frustration.

"It would take ages to explain everything- you would have to know about my whole life to understand-"

"Ah, but we can do that," Ravenclaw interrupted. "If you trust us enough, Harry, there is a rather simple, ancient spell that will allow us to see what we need to see."

Harry frowned. Did he really want these people, practically complete strangers, to see what had happened to him? But Harry felt pity for these 'memories'. They could never get out of the castle, never see what happened in the outside world, and their only chance to get any news was to question the students that found the secret garden by accident. And there had been only three in the past century, apparently: Harry himself, his mother and Dumbledore. So, Harry nodded firmly.

"Do it."

The founders smiled and stood around Harry's armchair.

"Lily and Albus decided the same, you know," Gryffindor said. "We are very grateful. Please, Harry, just close your eyes and try not to fight us, then we'll be done in no time."

Harry nodded and closed his eyes. He could hear four voices muttering some kind of incantation, then felt four wandtips being touched to his forehead. It was the weirdest sensation, as though someone was moving stuff around in his head (which they probably were). Harry's first impulse was to fight the intruders, but he forced himself to remain passive.

It lasted for a good five minutes, then the strange feeling ebbed away and the wandtips disappeared. Harry opened his eyes. The founders were staring at him with strange mix of emotions in their eyes. Pity, thankfully, was not among them. Harry hated pity. But then again, having been in his mind for a few minutes, the founders probably knew that.

Rather, Harry saw a mix of different emotions ranging from shock to respect- he could not read them all.

"Oh, you poor boy," Ravenclaw sighed, sitting back down in her seat. "You've been through a lot, haven't you. I must say, I couldn't have wished for a better heir."

Gryffindor nodded, clapping Harry on the back, albeit gently. Harry tried not to feel too pleased.

"Merlin would have been proud as well." Slytherin commented.

Harry blinked.

"Merlin? You- you knew Merlin?"

The founders laughed.

"Of course we did, silly," Hufflepuff said affectionately, "he lived a thousand years ago, in our time."

Harry frowned. "I remember Dumbledore telling me that Merlin had founded the Order of the Phoenix ten thousand years ago. Did Merlin live that long?"

Slytherin chuckled.

"Ah, my dear boy, have you never heard of Merlin's ability to live backwards in time?"

Harry shook his head dumbly.

"Well, this way, Merlin was practically immortal. He developed this unusual ability so far that he could eventually jump in time. After a rather draining battle with a dragon, Merlin had to flee, and so he jumped backwards. Unfortunately, his magic was still too weak and he couldn't control his destination. So, he accidentally jumped nine thousand years back in time, and after that was so exhausted that he had to stay there for a while to recover. That is when he founded the Order of the Phoenix."

Harry was deeply impressed. He let his gaze wander through the room for a while, eventually stopping at the table with the strange books on it.

"Um, if you don't mind, what are those books for?"

Ravenclaw smiled.

"Those?" She pointed to the books as well. "Let me show you."

Harry followed Ravenclaw's founder to the big table. They stopped in front of an especially heavy volume labelled 'Defence'.

"This, Harry," Rowena said, opening the book somewhere in the middle, "Is a catalogue. It contains all the books ever written, sorted by themes. For example, in this catalogue you will find every book written on defence against the dark arts. The catalogue updates itself as soon as a new book comes out in the wizarding world, and the book is magically added to the shelves of this room."

Harry frowned.

"So, in this room, there are all the books ever written on Defence, Potions, Transfigurations and so on? Well, I can see that there are many books in here, more than even the Hogwarts library has, but- there have to be more books than that in existence, right? And anyway- how are you ever going to find anything with this amount of books?"

"Right you are, Harry," Gryffindor who had stepped up behind Harry and Ravenclaw, said. "Even though you can see millions of books in this room, they are only a small part of what is really here. The shelves have an infinite expanding charm on them, as well as a shrinking spell. As a result, the shelves always stay the same size to our eyes, no matter how many books there are."

Harry nodded, impressed again.

"As for finding the books you want to read," Ravenclaw picked up again, "This is what this catalogue is for. You just put your right hand on to its cover and then give the book instructions as to what you want to read. The catalogue will immediately list all the 'fitting' books in alphabetical order. If you tap a book's title with your wand once, a short description will be shown below it. If you tap the title twice, the book will immediately come to you. If you tap the title three times, the book will be returned to its place. Simple, isn't it?"

Harry was staring at her with his mouth hanging open in amazement. Slytherin smirked.

"Why don't you try it out, Harry?"

Hesitating slightly, Harry slowly put his hand on the cover. The book trembled slightly, as if awaiting his orders.

"Show me- show me the book Lily Potter read last."

Immediately, the book flew open somewhere three quarters through. A single title appeared on the page.

"'How to protect your loved ones', by Nunquiam Savadi." Harry's breath hitched in his throat as he realized what he would probably find in the book. Hands shaking slightly, he pulled out his wand and tapped the title twice.

Immediately, he heard a strange whistling sound, and then the book landed on the table next to him with a dull thud. Harry opened it and scanned the table of contents. And indeed, there it was.

"Page 354, the 'Praesidium Sensus'." Next to it, someone had written in clear, flowing handwriting: 'Usable, if there is no way out'. Harry closed the book with shaking hands as the implications hit him.

His mother had been there, had researched ancient protection spells and charms at that very table. This was where she had discovered the charm that had, together with Harry's own powers and Gryffindor's attempts at immortality, saved his life almost fourteen years before. Harry barely felt gentle fingers remove the book from is grasp and a pair of hands guide him back to his seat.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Helga's concerned voice pulled him back to reality. Harry nodded, still feeling a little dazed.

"Yeah, sure," he said, smiling weakly. "I just- I mean, when I asked for that book, I never expected-"

The founders nodded in understanding.

"Harry, we never got to tell you who else was here over the past millennium," Godric said. Harry nodded eagerly, grateful for the change in topic. He still wanted to know.

"Well, you probably won't know most of them, but we will tell you anyway." Salazar started. "Let's see. Before Dumbledore, there weren't too many people. There was, of course, a few centuries ago, a small boy called Nicholas Flamel. He studied many books of this library in hopes of creating a legendary substance called the 'Philosopher's Stone'. As you know, he eventually succeeded. Nicholas came here for many centuries, until about two years ago."

Harry felt curious. "What happened? Did he- kill someone?"

The founders chuckled. "Oh no, my dear boy," Godric exclaimed, "You'll have to look hard to ever find another man as peaceful as Nicholas Flamel! No, no, Nicholas was a brilliant alchemist, but beyond that, he was not too interested in anything, least of all the human world's wars. Nicholas never killed anyone in his admittedly long lifetime."

Harry frowned, puzzled. "So why doesn't he come here anymore?"

Godric smiled. "Well, Harry, he died. The stone was destroyed, and eventually, there was no elixir of life left. Nicholas told us that he was actually quite relieved. On his own, he couldn't have made the decision of destroying the stone, thus ending his life. But he was starting to feel out of place in this ever-changing world, and so he was quite happy to die."

Harry stared at his house's founder incredulously. Rowena chuckled.

"For someone as young as yourself, it must seem terrible to wish for death. But Nicholas and Perenelle outlived their friends, their family, everyone- they really didn't mind ending it all."

Harry nodded a little doubtfully.

"So, who else came here?"

"Well..... there was one boy, around five hundred years ago, called William James of Mindleson. He was banned from here because he killed someone. Later, we were told that he now resides in Hogwarts castle as the Slytherin ghost, the Bloody Baron."

"Oh." Harry nodded. He glanced quickly at the clock above the chimney and gasped.

"It's already seven! Dinner will have started by now- Sirius and Minerva and Remus are probably worried out of their minds- I've been gone for six hours! I'm sorry, I really need to go now!"

The founders nodded and got up just as Harry did.

"You will visit us again, right, Harry?" Ravenclaw asked.

He smiled at her. "Of course I will. I can't say exactly when, but tomorrow should be fine?"

The four of them nodded. They exchanged their goodbyes, and then Harry was being led back through the confusing corridors by the golden glow, which was apparently a faerie called Keereelalia. Somehow, this time, the way seemed to be much shorter, confirming Harry's suspicions that Keereelalia had fooled him before.

The thought brought a small smile to Harry's face as they finally arrived in front of the big iron gates. Harry turned to face the glow and smiled.

"Well, thanks for leading me, Keereelalia. I appreciate it. Even though I must say that the way seemed to take a suspiciously long time at first."

Suddenly, the glow diminished and Harry could quite clearly make out what looked like a miniature human with wings in it. The faerie was smiling.

"It was my pleasure, Harry. Oh, and you may want to watch out for the cloud above your head!"

Harry looked up and- promptly got drenched in water. Still sputtering in outrage, he never got a chance at revenge as he watched a giggling Keereelalia speeding away.

Shaking his head, Harry opened the gate and left the secret garden. This time, he found the gap in the hedge quickly. He stepped through and began to hurry towards Hogwarts castle. But the day's events had left him rather drained, and Harry took almost twenty minutes until he had reached the castle. It had to be around half past seven.

By the time he opened the front doors, Harry was feeling tired and was yawning almost non-stop. He remembered his godmother's order not to go anywhere alone and searched his mind for the telepathic bond he shared with the Order Council members. He concentrated on contacting only Snape, Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus and Minerva, as they were the only ones who knew about the demon.

He got five relieved responses and felt a little guilty for worrying them all. Harry waited for someone to come and collect him. He didn't have to wait long.

After only about two minutes, footsteps approached and Professor Snape rounded the corner. He smiled slightly at Harry and beckoned the student to follow him into the Great Hall.

To Harry's immense relief, most of the Order members were already gone by the time he and Snape arrived there. The High Table, however, was still occupied by the whole Order Council. Harry quickly slid down in the seat between Snape and Sirius.

"Harry!" the latter exclaimed. "You've been gone for more than six hours! We were worried about you! Where were you?"

Harry sighed.

"I'm really sorry for worrying you lot, but I went out into the gardens and fell asleep in the sun."

It was no less than the truth. The five adults seemed to accept his excuse and nodded. Minerva, especially, smiled at him.

"It shows," she said.

"What?" Harry was confused.

"That you've been in the sun for a few hours. You're quite tanned."

"I am?" Harry hadn't really had the chance to look into a mirror for a few hours. Dumbledore, Snape, his godparents and Remus nodded, all of them smiling at Harry in a strange way, as if they knew something he didn't. Harry decided that he didn't like the smiles and occupied himself with the food. After a few hours outside, he felt ravenous.

"By the way, Sirius?"

His godfather looked up from his plate. "Yeah, Harry?"

"When exactly will the Order meeting begin?"

"Eight o'clock. So, you still have..... fifteen minutes."

"Oh."

Harry hurried with his food and finished five minutes later, at the same time as everyone else.

"One minute, Harry." Harry turned to see the headmaster looking at him. He nodded and remained in his seat. The hall emptied slowly, until only Dumbledore and Harry remained. Harry felt a little nervous and asked himself if he had done anything wrong. The headmaster leaned back in his chair and watched Harry for a while, effectively making him squirm.

Finally, Dumbledore took mercy on Harry.

"Harry," he broke the tense silence, regarding Harry over his half-moon spectacles. "Am I correct in assuming that you did not spend all of your time outside sleeping?"

Harry opened his mouth, about to fervently deny that statement, when he suddenly remembered that Dumbledore had been in the Founders' Realm as well as a student and young man. Surely it could not hurt to tell the headmaster?

Dumbledore, meanwhile, simply nodded to himself.

"Ill take that as a 'yes'," he smiled, eyes twinkling overtime.

Harry smiled as well, slightly hesitantly.

"Sir, I- I discovered the Realm of the Founders four days ago. I passed the test just before I had to leave for my first Quidditch practice with the English team."

Dumbledore's smile broadened.

"Ah, yes," he mused, "Yes, yes, yes. You were in a hurry, weren't you? – I suspected you might have found the Realm- and today only confirmed my suspicions. So, my boy, have you met the Hogwarts Four?"

Harry nodded, a smile on his face.

"I met them just a few hours ago. It was- surprising."

The aged headmaster chuckled merrily. "I have no doubt that it was, my boy. Give my best to the Four the next time you go there, will you?"

Harry smiled and nodded. Of course he would.

Dumbledore suddenly pulled a strange looking watch out of his pocket. It didn't have numbers on it, but planets. Harry felt confused by merely looking at it, but it seemed to tell Dumbledore something.

"Oh my, look at the time! If we don't hurry, we will be late. The other members will already be waiting for us, Harry."

Harry got up and followed his mentor out of the Great Hall.

~*~

When they arrived, the other Order Council members were already there. There were the same people as last time (which means, Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, Vector, Snape, Lupin and Dumbledore, and Sirius Black, Hagrid, Mad-Eye-Moody, Arabella Figg (who had apparently been released from St. Mungus, even though she still looked a little pale), Mundungus Fletcher, Arthur Weasley and his two oldest sons, Bill and Charlie) plus Madam Hooch and a pink-haired woman Harry didn't know.

Harry suddenly realized that Madam Hooch hadn't been at the Order meeting he had witnessed before. Why wasn't she part of the Order when the rest of the staff was? Harry quickly took his seat between Sirius and Minerva, and everyone quieted down, waiting for Dumbledore to open the meeting.

The headmaster smiled at everyone. and cleared his throat.

"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the next meeting of the Order of the Phoenix Council. There are a few issues that need to be addressed, and later Xiomara here" – he pointed at Madam Hooch – "will join our ranks. First off, I'd like to thank young Harry again for saving all our lives in the battle for Azkaban."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, allowing everyone to cheer and clap for an extremely embarrassed Boy-who-Lived.

"Secondly, even though the attack on Azkaban didn't quite go as planned and Voldemort now unfortunately has control over both the dementors and the prisoners of Azkaban, and even though we sadly lost many members at the wands of Voldemort's Deatheaters and the claws of the Aychryds, the aftermath of the battle was a general success for us. Thanks to Mr. Potter's heroic act, and the article which appeared in the newspaper the morning after, the Order has had hundreds of recruits in the past five days. We now count 827 members, all of whom have been tested by Fawkes, and more people are joining every day."

There was a general whispering in the room, everyone had broad smiles on their faces.

"The next issue that needs to be addressed, is my being made temporary minister of magic. I, of course, as the head of the Order and headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, will not keep the job. I have enough on my hands. Therefore, I have decided to schedule the elections on the twentieth of September. Now, the Order Council needs to decide which one of us will pose as a candidate."

There was a short silence, then Arabella Figg raised her hand. Dumbledore nodded to her.

"I propose Arthur Weasley. We all know that there is no one better and that he will handle the responsibilities of the Minister of Magic better than Fudge ever has. Also, he is fiercely loyal to the light side, and his family is pureblood, which means that not even people like Lucius Malfoy could discriminate him on that basis."

Dumbledore nodded, seemingly not surprised, but rather pleased. Harry suspected that he had wanted Mr. Weasley to be the candidate all along.

"Does anyone know a candidate better-suited for the job than Arthur?"

The room remained silent. Dumbledore's smile widened.

"Then, it's settled. Arthur, do you think you're up to it?"

Arthur Weasley nodded, looking a little overwhelmed. Harry smiled at him. There was really no one who deserved the job more than Mr. Weasley, in Harry's opinion.

"Right." Dumbledore continued. "Now that that's settled, Xiomara, will you come forward?"

The flying instructor nodded and stepped forward. The rest of the members, Harry included, formed a circle around her. Harry suddenly realized that he had no idea what he was supposed to do and looked around in panic, but no one was paying attention to him. Then, as if in a trance, they all raised their wands. Harry, only just managing to hold back a gasp of amazement, found himself doing the same. Then, the Order members started to mutter the incantation, and to his ultimate surprise, Harry knew the words, even though he could not understand what they meant, or even discern what kind of language they were.

Suddenly, beams of light shot out of the wands of the people present and connected with Madam Hooch. She, unlike Harry, was not fighting them, confirming Harry's suspicion that she had been in the Order during Voldemort's last reign of terror as well.

Harry watched in fascination as the golden beams of light split up and the threads connected with each other, until all the Order members were part of a gigantic, golden web, with Madam Hooch in the centre. The most amazing sensation swept through Harry, as though he was suddenly part of one, big force, not Harry Potter anymore, and he felt more powerful and safer than ever before.

Then, Fawkes flew in through the window and settled down in front of Hooch. She met his gaze calmly. Dumbledore stepped forward.

"Rolanda Xiomara Hooch, do you want to join the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you promise to be faithful to the Order and never to join the dark side?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Would you give your life in order to protect your fellow Order members if they were in mortal peril?"

"Yes, I would."

Fawkes trilled a high note, then he spread his wings and took off again, flying through the window.

"Rolanda Xiomara Hooch, you have fulfilled the laws of the Order of the Phoenix and are now officially a member. In order to become a part of the Order Council, you have to completely trust every Council member. In order for you to trust us and for us to trust you, we will have to view each other's best and worst memories."

Unlike Harry, Xiomara did not panic. Harry only felt calm acceptance and slight resignation from her. Harry shook his head in amazement. He waited for a few moments, knowing what was to come and inwardly bracing himself. Then, the thread connected to Dumbledore glowed red. For the second time in two weeks, Harry found himself watching the Order members' best and worst memories.

(A/N: If you want to know what they are, re-read chapter 5. It would go too far writing about all of them again.)

Soon, it was his turn, and Harry swallowed heavily against the icy feeling of dread in his stomach and throat. He tried to close his eyes, but found himself unable to. Sighing slightly, Harry resigned himself to watching himself find out that he was a wizard and win the Quidditch Cup, then his parents and Cedric get killed again. Harry was relieved that none of the scenes of the Dursleys had been replayed.

Finally, the thread connecting him to Madam Hooch glowed red. Apparently, Madam Hooch's happiest memory was being made flying instructor at Hogwarts and joking around with some of her friends, all of whom Harry did not recognise, as well as simply flying. Harry had to smile at that, he knew the feeling.

Then, he watched as an about fifteen-year-old Hooch got the news that her parents had been murdered by Grindelwald, and as a student transfigured her halfway into a hawk in Transfigurations class. The teacher was unable to undo the change completely, and Madam Hooch had to keep the yellow eyes.

Then it was over. The beams of light vanished, and the strange feeling of being part of one, big force disappeared. Harry was confused when Madam Hooch did not collapse in the end of her initiation. Why had he collapsed when she had not? Was he weak? Or was it because of his memories? Harry felt extremely puzzled and was just about to ask his godmother, who was standing next to him, about it, when he spotted something, or rather someone.

There, in the corner beside the slightly ajar door, sat a rat. A big, fat rat with a silver paw.

Harry gasped loudly and pointed at the rat. "YOU!" he yelled. The rat squeaked in a startled way and was out of the door before Harry could do anything. "You're not getting away again!" Harry yelled. He concentrated deeply, and with a 'pop', had transformed into a wolf.

His animal senses took over, and Harry-wolf followed the scent of the rat as quickly as he could. Down the staircase, into the corridor. Where to now? Left! The prey had run to the left. Harry-wolf let out a low growl and began to sprint down the hallway. The wolf was fast, he soon discovered. Fast, with very accurate senses. But the rat had quite the advantage.

Sometimes, Harry-wolf spotted a tail sweep around a corner, which always made him speed up. He was dimly aware of someone following him. A dog, a cat and a hawk. Sirius, Minerva and Hooch, he realized.

Shaking his furry head, Harry-wolf concentrated on the task at hand. They were entering the entrance hall. The door burst open magically as the rat neared it, and Harry realized just how frightened it had to be for wandless magic to work. Harry-wolf growled again and sped up even more.

They were now running across the Hogwarts ground, and slowly, Harry was gaining ground. Another fifty feet....... thirty...... twenty....... Harry-wolf could hear the rat's terrified squeaking and smell its fear....... another ten feet....... five.......

There was a crack in the ground in front of them, nearly five feet broad, and with a jolt, Harry-wolf realized that the chase had taken them to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The rat squeaked loudly and jumped. The distance seemed to be too far for a rat but it landed safely on the other side. Harry-wolf growled again and prepared to jump as well.

He pressed his hind legs to the ground firmly and gave himself a mighty push. He sailed through the air effortlessly..... until, suddenly, a curse hit him. Harry-wolf yelped as he was somehow transferred into his human body.

Arms flailing wildly, Harry only just managed to grab on to the edge of the crack. Hanging there only by his fingertips, Harry slowly looked down. And blanched. He had no idea how deep this crack was, but he could definitely not see the ground.

Even more slowly, Harry looked up again. And found himself nose-to-wand with Peter Pettigrew.

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A/N: HEHEHEHEHE!!!!!!! Cliffhanger!!! Literally!!!! MWHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!

You know, I was sorely tempted to call this chapter "The meanest cliffhanger ever written", but decided against it.....

Thanks to all the people who reviewed the last chapter!!! You guys are the best!!!!!

See ya,

Felinity ^_^