Chapter 2

Harry's happiness was short lived. The next morning he woke to realize that he had absolutely no way of finding Fletcher by himself. The only practical way was to go to the Order of the Phoenix and ask to see him. That was one thing he was dreading to do. If Mrs. Weasley was… well anywhere near the house, she would inevitably object to Harry going off on his own. Ron and Hermione would make things even more difficult by trying to come with him. And Ginny, well, she certainly wouldn't help either, he thought sadly.

So he remained, experimenting with a few new spells to keep his mind off his impending dilemma. An answer to his problems came to him in the form of a tapping against the window. Hedwig had left the burrow to return to her master. Harry was elated to see her, and soon came up with an idea.

Taking out a quill and some parchment he scribbled,

Meet me at Grimauld place on August 25th at 6 p.m.

Don't tell anyone, and come alone.

-Harry

He tied it to Hedwig's leg and told her, " I need you to give this to… Madeye Moody."

Hedwig hooted diligently, and took off back into the night. Harry sat back down, suddenly feeling quite relieved. Madeye was the right choice. He would respect Harry's wish for privacy and would be able to answer Harry's questions. And if things worked out, he would have plenty of time afterwards to go to Ron's house for Bill and Fleur's wedding.

Suddenly energized, Harry jumped to his feet and decided to try one of the trickier spells he had read up on. Deep in concentration, he waved his wand slowly, and was pleased to see the air shimmer as a clear vapor poured out from it. The entire room shimmered and waved before his eyes, but he could still navigate it. The spell would be very useful in a fight. It was called the Illusory Smoke Charm and created billows of thick smoke that only the caster could see through. Harry was under the suspicion that he had seen Dumbledore use the same spell in his fifth year.

Feeling quite satisfied with the days work, Harry fell asleep with a renewed sense of determination.

The afternoon sun was glaring into Harry's narrowed eyes through the dusty windows of Grimauld place. It was 5:59 p.m. August 25th. Moody had not yet arrived. Harry checked his watch again, when he heard distinctly a Crack. He whipped his head back to the window, but was surprised to see no one standing in the street or anywhere near Number 12 Grimauld Place. He was just beginning to think it was his imagination, when a knock sounded at the door downstairs. Harry took out his wand, and crept his way down the stairs and to the main entrance. Harry raised his wand and shot a few sparks at the door, which promptly swung inward.

Again, nobody was there. Remembering an event that had occurred only the year before, Harry turned around slowly, and bent down, as if to tie his shoe. Quick as a flash, Harry whipped his wand at the doorway, "Petrificus Totalus!" He was rewarded with a large, muffled thump.

" –Accio!"
A large, glimmering cloak, flew from the ground, and into Harry's hands, revealing the immobile figure it had covered. Harry tossed the Invisibility cloak to the side as he approached the frozen figure of whom he recognized as Madeye Moody.

Trust Madeye to wear a cloak even though he could see me through the door with that eye of his, Harry thought.

"Specialis Revelio," Harry muttered, poking Madeye in the shoulder with his wand.

Harry waited for a few moments, and when nothing happened, Harry poked Madeye in the shoulder again, "Finite."

Moody sat up with a start. "Ya' got me that time Potter, y'did." He stood up slowly, using his cane for support. "Constant vigilance eh?"

"I'm glad you came." Harry said simply, moving forward to help the man up. "Let's go inside."

Moody grunted in agreement, and Harry closed the door behind him before following the limping figure into the kitchen.

Harry seated himself across from Moody, who was giving him an appraising look.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Eh? Nothin lad. It's just that ya' seem more like you father every day. More than just your appearance, I mean. Anyway, we got some matters to discuss, right?"

"Yeah," Harry responded, "I need your help, Moody."

"Yeah, I figured it was such." Moody said. "Well go on boy. What do ya' need?"

"Well," Harry started. "I think that Mundungus has some of my possessions, and I need to know where to find him to… talk to him."

Moody let out a harsh laugh, his sides rocking, "I bet you'd do a lot of talking, after ya' gutted 'im." He stopped laughing, "I'll take you to him then. First, lets have a drink. I need to tell you about some of the things going on in the Ministry." He added.

Harry nodded, "Good. I'll just–" Harry concentrated very hard, and with a little flick of his wand, a bottle of amber liquid and two accompanying glasses appeared.

Moody nodded appreciatively, and taking the bottle, he poured the contents into the two glasses. One of which he handed to Harry.

Harry took a sip, and watched as Moody discretely raised his wand over his own glass, and muttered a few words. The liquid glowed a bright blue for a moment and then returned to its regular color. Apparently satisfied, Moody downed the whole glass in one gulp. Smacking his grizzled lips, he informed Harry, "That's some fine drink ye got there. Impressive. I never was much at conjuring. Difficult t'get the right taste. Ya learn that sort of magic seventh year I believe."

Harry said something noncommittal in reply (he had been practicing his spell casting quite a bit) before asking, "Well, what is it you wanted to tell me about the ministry?"

"Eh? Oh that – well, more than just the ministry. There's always been a lot of focus on you lad. You're always in all the papers and in everybody's minds y'know. With that whole chosen one thing, everybody is wanting to know what yer gonna do about getting rid of you know who. So y'see, the ministry has been asking people about you. They went over to yer house the day you turned seventeen, but you weren't there. They had wanted to ask if you wanted to become an honorary Auror deputy or sommat. Had a load of reporters there too. They wanted it to be wide known that Harry Potter supports them. I surpose it isn't so bad, considering the low moral of the general wizarding public." Moody paused. "But I thought you ought to know that they've been looking all over for you. And if the wrong ears hear that you're missing from your safe home in Little Whining, you may be in some danger here."

Harry shook his head, "Don't worry about me. This place is as safe as any."

"Well, just in case, I want you to read this." Moody fumbled in his robes, before procuring a slip of paper.

Taking it from Moody, Harry read the parchment carefully.

The Order of the Phoenix's headquarters is located at number 134 Sir Nicholas's Street, Hogsmede

Harry had just finished reading it a second time when it burst into flames in his hands, falling to the table, ashes.

Harry looked up from the smoldered pile, "I didn't know Nearly Headless Nick had a street named after him."

Moody grunted, "Yeah apparently he died there. Anyway, we have more to discuss."

Harry nodded and refilled his empty glass.

"Well, the Order isn't to happy either. Now that Dumbledore's gone, nobody knows what to do. They decided to elect me as the new leader, but its difficult. No one knew what Dumbledore's plans were. He was off to who-knows-where doing who-knows-what and I have to ask you lad. Do you know what he was doing? Or where he was. He only told us that he was doing something very important for killing you-know-who, and if it is, than we need to keep at it, cause he's dead now, but you-know-who sure isn't… -- well?"

Harry sighed, and rubbed the back of his head, "He did happen to tell me things about what he was up to. I was with him the night he died, helping him with certain obstacles. Dumbledore was indeed working to destroy Voldemort, but I can't really tell you how. He told me not to tell anyone but I will tell you this. I have not forgotten what Dumbledore was trying to do, and I will complete the tasks. And by helping me find Mundungus, you may well be confirming that Dumbledore did not die in vain."

The room was silent and the air was suddenly quite tense. Harry tried to ease up the atmosphere, "So… you were elected leader? A good choice, I think."

Moody looked at Harry very closely, his fake eye as focused as his real one. Finally he leaned back and spoke, "Yeah well, someone had to do it. Might as well be me." Moody looked quite as uncomfortable as Harry felt. Harry had just asked Moody for his help, but clearly didn't trust him enough to let him in on his secrets.

Harry quickly downed the rest of his drink. Moody did likewise.

"Well," Moody started somberly, "If ya' do come to Headquarters, make sure not to run into Molly. She's been a right pain in the arse since you've gone and left yer house like that. She's been yellin at me every meeting, saying that you need t'be protected, and we should send everyone out to find you– "

Harry rammed his palm into his forehead in exasperation.

"Eh, that's right lad. She's been suggesting the most ridiculous things. I have half a mind to tell her about this meeting just to shut her up, but she'd want to come over here herself to make sure, most likely. But, enough talk. It's time for me to bring you to the premises of one Mundungus Fletcher."

Harry nodded gratefully, and got up.

Harry followed Moody out the entrance, and onto the sidewalk. It was late evening now, and the bugs were chirping and buzzing happily. Moody proffered his left arm, and nodding to him, Harry took it firmly.

They disappeared with a pop.