Chapter Eight :

The Index of Wizards

"Ron, you're going to make the poor thing explode!" Harry glanced over to Ron and Hermione, sitting at the table next to him and Justin Finch-Fletchly. Professor McGonagall was circling the room, trying to stop students from causing their owls to blow up. The N.E.W.T. Transfiguration class was preparing to transfigure do human transfigurations by changing one animal into another. It was quite simple now for them to go between living and nonliving states. However, working to rearrange organs and bones was much harder than Harry had anticipated. Justin cursed vehemently as their owl bit him.

Harry was certain that he'd made a mistake when picking his career, because if classes kept on going the way they were, he was sure that all the pressure would make his break. Between trying desperately not to get kicked out of Snape's potions class and his vain efforts at understanding the concept of object animation for Flitwick, Harry couldn't find time to schedule the first DA meeting, let alone get down to see Hagrid. The half-giant hadn't crossed their paths in weeks. It just didn't seem like the school year had truly started, without their trips to his hut.

Harry couldn't have been more relieved when the bell rang, dismissing them for lunch. Ron and Hermione quickly caught up with him in the hall, having to stay behind to receive a lecture from McGonagall on the proper voice volume for her class. They headed straight down to Hagrid's, where they could see him closing something, undoubtedly a rabid animal, into a crate equipped with large air holes.

"Hagrid!" Hagrid, after glancing up and seeing them, lit up like Christmas had come early. He waved them over, clearly intending to show them his new pet.

"This here is a chimera," Hagrid said proudly, gesturing to the shaking crate. A snarl sounded, causing Ron and Harry to exchanged alarmed looks.

"How did you get a hold of one, Hagrid?" Hermione asked, apparently giving up on attempting to stop his habit of acquiring dangerous beasts.

"Got a permit from the Ministry o' Magic," Hagrid declared. "This beaut 'ere came all the way from Greece." Turning to Harry, he explained, "Chimeras have a lion's 'ead, a goat's body, and a dragon's tail." Harry was itching to look at it, despite all of his impulses screaming danger.

Hagrid invited them in for tea before he could ask. They sat around the large table, drinking tea and slipping rock cakes into their bags, which they never visited without. "So, what're ye doin after school, 'ermione?"

"I've decided to become a Researcher. I figured I'd start out full time and maybe later, after the war, work that as a side job. I really want to get into rights for part-humans and other magical species. The Ministry is just horrid with their laws. Not to mention the mistreatment of those poor house-elves!"

"I've gotten into Snape's potions class. He's not too pleased, but it means I can be an auror," Harry said, cutting off Hermione's elf-rights rampage. Both Ron and Hagrid looked a little relieved at his timely statement. Hermione was brilliant to be with, but when it came to house-elves, things were much better with a change of topic.

"And Ron?"

"Ron? He's hasn't got a plan." Harry wondered if Hermione realized how completely tactless she was sometimes.

"Excuse me, Hermione," Ron burst in indignantly. "I do so have a plan!"

"Oh really?" Hermione clearly didn't believe him.

"Why do you think I've been meeting with Professor McGonagall every week?" he snapped furiously. Silence held, Hermione absolutely stunned. Harry, too, was shocked to discover where Ron had been going all those nights.

"Now then, you all get comfertable. I've got some stew. I wanta hear all bou' yer classes. And, o'course, Ron's career," Hagrid said.

Hagrid filled his monster-sized bowls from a large kettle over his fire. Harry was taken aback to find that the stew was actually quite good. All attention shifted to Ron as they waited expectantly. Red began to show on the tips of his ears.

"It's why I owled Percy," Ron said meekly. This took a few moments to explain to Hagrid. "It took a while for him to answer. I sent it back at Grimmauld Place. After you disappeared, Harry, Kingsley was so shaken up he was off-shift for a week or two. He came over to play chess with me. He's real good. I haven't had a game that hard since first year. He's beaten me a fair few times." Harry recalled, vaguely, that he and Kingsley had talked about Ron's affinity for chess on the day Kilarati and Atonics had kidnapped him.

"Yer gonna play professional chess?" Hagrid asked, confused.

"Er, not exactly," Ron went on. "We got to talking about strategy. He was telling me about how useful a talent for chess is when you plan strategies for battle. They have these jobs in the auror department called strategists. They come up with auror training patterns and ideas for battle. Usually they're former aurors or ones discharged with injuries."

"Ron, that's a brilliant career!" Harry exclaimed. He could just see Ron spending hours devising patterns of attack. If only he and Ginny would patch it up. Then he could help with quidditch formations.

"But no one's ever become a strategist without being an auror. I liked the idea of using strategy though, so I looked into it, in some of the books of Sirius's library." He cast a furtive glance at Harry as he mentioned the name. "I read all about lawyers and how they use strategy to cross-reference and make judges and juries and people see a guilty man. I got to thinking about how Sirius never got a trial and how if he'd had one, that he'd have needed a good lawyer to present his case and stuff. I owled Percy for information on ministry lawyers."

"Wow, Ron," Hermione said, clearly regretting her earlier comments. Harry hoped that Ron knew she was just worried for his future. By the look of it, Ron did. He was blushing fiercely, looking down at his hands, mumbling about how it was no big deal. Harry smiled, looking at his friends. There were some things in this world that just wouldn't change. Even with war upon them, Ron and Hermione were still the same with each other. He wondered how long it would be before they'd just own up to their feelings.

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That night at dinner, hundreds of owls swarmed overhead as the treacle tart appeared. In front of every single student a special Daily Prophet Bulletin was dropped. With fingers trembling in anticipation, Harry lifted it up, a smile spreading his lips as he saw the headline.

So Long Fudge

It is the great pleasure of the Daily Prophet to inform all of its loyal readers that Minister Fudge is Minister of Magic no more. After a long Wizengamot debate, it was decided that Fudge was to be removed from his position immediately for failure to protect the magical people of Britain in the return of the Dark Lord. In further, our former minister also denied his return, despite the tale coming from the mouth of the Boy-Who-Lived, supported by the renowned Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore.

Election of the new Minister will take place in two weeks time. Until then, Madame Amelia Bones steps in to fill the job. She has also been nominated as a candidate, along with Mr. Amos Diggory, Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Mr. Arnold Scrimgeour. In the very first pole for the impending election, Mr. Diggory is in the lead among Ministry members. This, we believe, is due largely to the fact that he has recently lost his son's life to the hands of You-Know-Who. It is expected to come down to Mr. Scrimgeour and Ms. Bones.

Albus Dumbledore had this to say upon the matter, "All of the candidates are extremely capable leaders. It is now a matter of how the wizarding community wishes to fight the war with the Dark Lord. Each of these fine wizards will lead in a different fashion. Let us analyze what our situation calls for, and from that point, let us decide upon our minister."

Fudge has been asked to stay on as an advisor for the new minister and assist Ms. Bones until said minister's election. It is also rumored that Fudge is acting as liaison between the muggle minister and the magical society. If this is indeed so, we expect an election for Muggle Liaison to directly follow the election of Minister of Magic.

Harry looked as though he'd just received a car for his birthday. Hermione and Ron, looked just as excited as him. "Imagine Kinsley as minister!" Ron said, laughing. Harry couldn't help but smile. It was tradition for an auror to be nominated, though none had ever won. Truly, Harry hoped that either Bones or Diggory would win, though he had more faith in the skills of Madame Bones, and Cedric being the reasoning behind it.

"You realize what this means, don't you?" Hermione asked.

"No more Fudge!" Ron cried gleefully. Hermione shot him a cross look.

"Ron, it means that Voldemort will be planning to attack while we're most vulnerable. I'll be much more at ease when this election is over," she said, looking very worried indeed. And as she said it, Harry, too, felt unease spread through him. Voldemort would most assuredly be planning now.

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Harry braced himself as the stairs to Dumbledore's office brought him nearer and nearer to the door. It was his first Sunday lesson and he wasn't looking forward to it. There was no way for him to know what Dumbledore had thought about their last conversation, and to be honest, he didn't really want to know.

"My boy, we won't accomplish anything with you standing out there all night," Dumbledore's voice said from behind the door. Harry blushed, walking inside.

"Sorry," he mumbled. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk in bright green robes and a dark purple pointed hat littered with twinkling stars. The man really was a sight to behold. Harry shook his head in amusement.

"These lessons will mainly be for you to gain the upper hand on Voldemort," Dumbledore said flatly, not skirting the issue. "With all the adventures you and your friends get into, I think it would be wise that they also gain additional training. But I will not be the one to provide it. It is up to you."

"I don't want them any more involved in this then they've already become," Harry said firmly. Dumbledore didn't respond for a few moments, bright blue eyes watching Harry closely.

"Harry, you never liked being left in the dark about things. And you have always made up your own mind about what you will do. Do not believe that you are the only one who thinks for himself. It is not up to you whether or not Ron and Hermione will fight Lord Voldemort. All that is in your hands is what knowledge that you acquire here will be knowledge they also gain." Dumbledore gave him a long look; the one that never ceased to make Harry feel like the headmaster was looking directly into his soul.

"Now then, we are going to begin with the slight problem that is already before us." Harry looked around, expecting to see a Deatheater or a parchment filled with Voldemort's devious schemes. He realized, later, that this was an absurd idea. "I ask that you forgive me for all I have put you through. I knew what you faced, living with Petunia and her husband. Perhaps I am even responsible for allowing Sirius to be imprisoned all those years. I am not perfect, Harry. But I have always tried to do what is right for you."

"I know," Harry said softly, not looking up at his mentor. "I hate the Dursleys. I figured I had a relatively normal childhood, only then I started to figure out that it wasn't normal for a kid to sleep in cupboard under the stairs." Dumbledore narrowed his eyes.

"A cupboard?" he inquired.

"That's where my first letter was addressed to," Harry said. "You had to have known." It was one of the things that was particularly angering Harry.

"Hogwarts letters are written by the headmaster and the supplies list is written out by the deputy," Dumbledore explained. "However, we do not address them, nor do we choose who receives them. The name of every magical child born is recorded in what is called The Index of Wizards. Those who are eligible to attend Hogwarts are recorded on the Scroll of Hogwarts by Lady Ravenclaw's Quill. Where these items reside, no one knows for sure. There are a great many tales floating about. The headmaster only knows what their predecessor tells them and what Hogwarts herself lets them know. Alas, I've strayed from my point again. You see, Harry, while I write the letters to all my students, they disappear after I sign them with my official title. What I do know is that the inkpot all headmasters use is filled with magical ink that is tied to Lady Ravenclaw's quill. It calls the letters to it. It is the quill that writes in the name of all the students and addresses their envelopes to such specification. No other wizard letters are addressed quite so specifically. And the quill does not rest until each letter has been received in full form, which is why Hagrid was eventually sent to deliver your letter."

"But how do you know who your students are to be?" Harry asked.

"The Scroll of Hogwarts appears in my office every year without fail. It returns with the addressed letters in seven neat stacks, one for every year. We have owls waiting that take them immediately. I place the Scroll next to the Sorting Hat until the sorting. And after acceptances return, I give each professor a list of their students."

"Where in Merlin's name could that book be hiding?" Harry asked. He shuddered, picturing the Dark Lord crossing out each name as he killed them, marking his followers with a little serpent and all those who opposed them with a red x. He would know who every muggle born child was. It would be only too easy for him to kill off a little baby in a hospital to rid the wizarding world of their dirty blood.

"That is one of things we must discuss," Dumbledore said solemnly. "It has come to my attention that Voldemort is seeking not only the Index of Wizards, but also the Black Books and the Books of the Living and Dead. The Black Books, if you will recall from history of magic, contain the ancient forms of forbidden magics."

"Ancient forms?" Harry asked, feeling entirely lost. "To be honest, all I ever learned from History of Magic was about goblin rebellions."

"A very useful bit of knowledge," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Long ago, Harry, when the founders began Hogwarts and the common tongue was Anglo-Saxon, the practices of ancient magic were just beginning to fade. Hogwarts was the very last wizarding school to convert to the use of wands. Ancient magic was usually performed wandlessly. Alongside the classes we still offer, there was Ritual, Dark Arts, and Weapons. The spells we use today were used then as well, but performed with out the focus point of a wand. Beginning was much harder, as such, but the results were much more gratifying.

"Ritual was eliminated from the schedules when we converted, due to the necessity of wandless magic. They were most often group spells that have long since lost their place in wizarding society. The dark arts were just forms of black magic, a practice that was not frowned upon in those days, due to the severity of the forbidden magics. Those magics, Harry, are the core of evil. There is no good that will come of them. Many of the rules of alchemy stem from the forbidden magics. You cannot use those magics without giving something. There are spells to bring forth tsunamis and earthquakes, but every time one is used, somewhere on earth, an even greater thing is lost."

"So, they're disaster spells?" Harry asked.

"Not entirely," Dumbledore replied. "Among the forbidden magics were practices to anchor souls to different objects after death, spells to grant immortality, ways to raise loved ones from the dead. They were forbidden because of the law of magical balance. Most of our spells nowadays are basic, they cause no great alteration in the world, do not defy the laws of existence. The forbidden magics would cause the scale to tip and according to the law of balance, which states that all things that exist must have a counter, something must cancel out the magic performed. For every tsunami there was a drought that lasted for years."

"Then what is it that balances out all the evil Voldemort does?" asked Harry bitterly, fists curled into a ball.

"The law of balance is a law because it is always true," Dumbledore said softly. "Lord Voldemort is balanced by you, Harry, his evil by your good, his weakness by your strength. And as with all balances, they sometimes naturally tip in favor of one side or the other."

"Then who is your balance? And Snape's? Or Ron's?"

"You already know the name of my balance. Dremidydd Grindelwald and he was once my best friend," the headmaster told him evenly. Harry felt his jaw drop in shock. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he gave a smile. "It is something they usually leave out of the history books. Dydd and I went to Hogwarts together. But that is a story for another time. Everyone has their balance, even Professor Snape and Ronald Weasley. It is just that ours were obvious, whereas some people will never even meet their balance. I believe, however, that Miss Granger may well be Mr. Weasley's counter. You will find that there are certain things that remain the same between us and our opposites. However, it is entirely possible that young Mr. Malfoy is Ron's complementary person. There are a great many things that must be different between partners."

Harry was a bit put out by Dumbledore's wording, having gotten a very different mental picture than Dumbledore had meant. One he found a bit disturbing, in fact. Dumbledore seemed to catch on to this, giving a smile of remorse. "Ah, yes, I forget now and again that 'queer' has an entirely new meaning these days. I only meant for you to realize that these balances are two pieces of a whole, a set of partners in the most platonic sense of the word. I highly doubt you'd have found our dear Professor Lupin and your late godfather sharing a bed for late night trysts." Harry gagged, giving his headmaster a look of loathing.

"You play off the minds of teenagers on purpose, don't you?" Harry asked.

"It is quite amusing," Dumbledore agreed. "Sherbet lemon drop?"

"And how would you even know who they were shagging, anyhow?" Harry asked curiously, taking one of the offered candies.

"Students always seem to underestimate what we old, wrinkled professors know about their after-hour activities. We are not so old we have forgotten lust." Maybe, Harry decided, this conversation should have been ended a few implications ago. "Sirius never did suspect I knew all about Amelia. And Remus is under the most adorable persuasion that everyone thinks he's as straight as an arrow."

"Remus is gay?" Harry asked, taken by surprise.

"Of course not," Dumbledore said. "He finds both sexes quite appealing, if memory serves me correctly." Harry rose an eyebrow.

"I'll remember this for the future," Harry said.

"Why, Merlin's beard Harry, do you expect Miss Bones to be an easy conquest?" Harry's jaw dropped. He tried to say something, though he was not sure what, only to discover a series of odd grunts coming from his mouth.

"No," he finally managed. Knowing their conversation had gotten onto firmly uncomfortable ground, Harry changed back to their original topic. "So Voldemort wants to get the Black Books to perform rituals and take out our armies. He wants the Books of the Living and Dead for what?"

"The Books of the Living and Dead are African magics and reside somewhere in the tombs of Egypt. No one knows where they are or what they contain. Hundreds of myths have been made as to what they can do. It is an unknown power, but one that is most surely great and Voldemort will do anything to have these powers."

"How are we supposed to stop him if we don't know where they are?" Harry asked.

"The Order is doing research, trying to find all the locations ever mentioned for any of these books. We will take our steps from there. For now, I do not want you to worry. Voldemort does not know their locations either, of that we are sure," Dumbledore said with an air of calm that Harry didn't quite believe. His voice was just a little too steady, his small smile a little too fixed. "Now then, I have a campaign to do, so we'd best get to it."

"Campaign?"

"I am assisting Madame Bones in her bid for minister. Behind the scenes of course, as it is much too early after the ministry's scorn for me to be on good terms with anyone running," the wizard explained in a very diplomatic answer. "You are going to learn everything I can tell you about young Mr. Riddle. Because to defeat your enemy, you must understand them better than anyone else. I had the advantage of a great history with Dydd- Grindelwald."

"Are we going to use a pensive?" Harry felt like all he did was ask questions.

"Later," Dumbledore said. "I have collected the memories of a few muggles who knew Tom long before I did, when he was a mere boy. You will see those next time. Today, I want you to understand the history of Slytherin's line. It is not entirely Tom's fault that he is how he is. There is a reason why first cousins, even more so in the wizarding world, are not allowed to marry or reproduce. Genes will be corrupted due to laws of genetics. The most severe issue, though, is the overlapping of magic. Reproducing with relatives too closely related to you will cause your magic to spoil, a discovery that was not made until far too long after the Slytherin line had inbred on many occasions."

Dumbledore cleared off his desk with a flick of his wrist and opened a draw. From within it, he retrieved a large piece of folded parchment. Once spread out, it took up nearly the entire expanse of the desk. Dumbledore muttered a string of spells, tapping and waving and swishing different patterns over the map. Slowly, like on the Marauder's map, ink of different colors began to trace their way on the page. Harry was blinded by a mass of deep green lines, nearly black, many intertwining time and time again. Other colors ties in here and there. A few spots drew his attention. Near to what Harry assumed was the top, a bright red line tie into the green, lines not extending further.

Names soon followed the ink, written in black. Harry saw at the top, in large elegant lettering, the name Salazar Slytherin. Next to it, slightly smaller, was scripted Ophelia Slytherin. "The Slytherin family tree," Harry said in awe. He ran his fingers gently over the parchment, tracing the lien of Salazar's eleven children. Lines came together soon after being separated, and Harry understood what Dumbledore was saying. There were at least forty places where first cousins had married, though mainly it was the end of their lines, children dying at early ages from what Harry assumed was genetic complications.

Looking back to the red line, Harry realized why there were no children recorded after it. Slytherin's only daughter, Freya Lysandra Slytherin'sline was met by Avery Edred Gryffindor. "Gryffindor?"

"No one is privy to these lineage maps but the headmasters of Hogwarts. There is one for each founder. Only headmasters are aware of why there was a split in the houses. Slytherin had promised his daughter to a wealthy king, but when she met Gryffindor's second son, Avery, they fell in love and pleaded to be allowed to marry. Gryffindor was more than willing to allow it. It took some time, but Ravenclaw agreed to have her middle daughter, who had been promised to Avery, give her hand to one of his younger brothers. Hufflepuff had always supported true love. Slytherin was adamant in Freya's marriage to the king, and so Avery and Freya eloped. When they returned and Slytherin found out what they had done, he was furious. Combined with all the other tense matters between the founders, everything came to a head and Slytherin and Gryffindor ended up in a furious duel."

"Wow," Harry said, running his fingers down the map. He saw the name Potter tied to a daughter a few generations down and the name Weasley thrown in towards the middle a few times. "Why doesn't everyone know about it?"

Dumbledore looked far away for a moment, as though remembering something from long ago. Harry jumped, as the answer came from behind him. "The remaining founders believed it was no one's business but their own. Sometimes I agree, and sometimes I do not." The Sorting Hat was sitting on a shelf next to the door, rim ripped open as he spoke.

"What are you doing back there?" Harry asked.

"I find that a change in scenery does wonders for my imagination. Those songs are very hard work," the Hat explained. "Albus is kind enough to move me around occasionally. A new point of view shows you the world anew."

"Er, thanks," Harry said.

"You see how often Slytherin's decedents married each other?" Dumbledore traced a few lines where they married into each other, split for a distance and then combined again. "By the time Tom's grandfather was born, many of the branches had died. Their numbers grew smaller as they continued to fuse with each other."

Harry ran his fingers over Tom Marvalo Riddle. There was no Lord Voldemort under it, next to it, or anywhere on the map. "What you're saying is that because the family overlapped so many times, they all got physical complications and they were bitter people."

"Precisely. Everything muggles warn about is true for wizards. However, the magics of the family began to get testy. Tom's uncle and grandfather were extremely hostile and angry people, mainly because their magic itself was so feisty and unpredictable. Their constant inbreeding caused their magic to become nearly useless. Tom's mother was a near squibb, the magics so crossed."

"Does that mean that Voldemort was evil from birth?" Harry asked.

"It is not that cut and dry," Dumbledore said, his voice heavy with regret. "Voldemort became evil all by himself. But our lesson is up for today, Harry. I must be off to meet with Madame Bones and you have a Potions essay to tend to. We will meet again in two days."

Harry took his dismissal and headed back to Gryffindor Tower, his mind heavy with thoughts of inbred magic. He wondered how it felt, to have magic so concentrated that it became hostile. Reaching out, he easily found his own magic. It was a trick he had learned one night in the dorms back at Matiku ver Amik. He had found his magical focus was just above his belly button, a globe of swirling warmth, gold, flicked with a majestic red and a rich purple.

"Password, dearie." Harry disconnected himself from his magic immediately at the Fat Lady's words. She was giving him a smile of a purely mother fashion.

"Oh, sorry," Harry said. "Just, well… er, polyjuice."

"Polyjuice it is," she said, swinging forward. Not bothering to respond, Harry went quickly through into the common room. The fire was nearly out, glinting on the face of the grandfather clock in the corner, and Harry realized that it was nearly midnight. Looking around the room, Harry spotted two third years near the small stairs that led up to Gryffindor's astronomy level, a small, raised balcony with a large telescope surrounded by heavily cushioned benches. Over on the couch by the fire, lay Ron and Hermione, dozing under a shared blanket that Harry recognized as on of Hermione's many, complete with the single flower outlines every now and then.

Quiet as a kitten, Harry walked up behind them and gently shook them awake. "No more muffins, mum," Ron grumbled, rolling over. Only there was no where to roll to, resulting in him tumbling from the couch, pulling the blanket and Hermione with him, waking her up in the process, and ending with a large heap on the floor and Harry laughing so hard, he flipped forward onto the couch.

"It's not funny, Harry," Hermione snapped, trying to disentangle herself from both Ron and the blanket, only succeeding in tangling them further. "Help!" Once Harry finally regained control on his laughter, the three of them sorted out the miscellaneous body parts and pulled the blanket safely from their limbs without further incident.

"How was it?" Ron asked, as they watched Hermione fold the blanket in a brisk manner.

"Interesting," was all Harry said. That is, until Hermione's glare prompted him to tell them, in a very hushed tone, with glances over at the third years who were seemingly oblivious to them, about what had happened to the Slytherin line's magic.

"The only reason Voldemort's magic is so powerful then, is because of his father," Hermione concluded immediately. "Being born from a near squibb and a muggle meant that the magic was diluted. It reduced the corruption."

"Because Voldemort isn't corrupted," Ron muttered sarcastically.

"That wasn't what I meant, Ronald."

Harry tuned out their bickering as he pondered Hermione's words. It was doubtful that Voldemort knew a great deal about his heritage. How he had even found out that he was Slytherin's heir was a mystery. The clock loudly chimed midnight, causing one of the third years to spill their ink and let out a large string of curses.

"Scourgify," Harry said, giving a casual flick of his wand, the ink vanishing from the table. "You're welcome," he replied to the thanks he received.

"We should head up to bed," Hermione announced regretfully. "I'll see you in the morning." She gave a wave and headed up to her dormitory. Harry might well have been a bobcat, with the sly grin he gave Ron, who watched her retreating form.

"Eyes in sockets, Ron," Harry said, leading the way up to their dormitory. Ron muttered something that Harry was quite sure he was glad he didn't hear. The light was still on when they went in, Seamus, Dean, and Neville were sitting on Dean and Neville's beds, talking.

"Where the ruddy hell have you been?" asked Dean as Harry sat himself on Dean's trunk, leaning back against the wall.

"You know, fighting dark forces," Ron said, ordering Neville to budge up.

"I was," said Harry, then lowered his voice in a dramatic whisper. "But Ron here, was busy cuddling up to Hermione."

"Oi!" Ron chucked Neville's pillow at him, which led to an all-out pillow fight, ending in a room full of feathers and no pillows. Laughing, they all collapsed on their beds, calling out loud good-nights and not bother with the candles before dropping off to sleep.

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"You don't think he'll make us have a chaperone, do you?" Neville asked. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dean, Lavender, Seamus, Parvati, and Neville were walking in a large clump down the hallway to the Room of Requirement. Harry didn't respond, still reeling from the night before, when he had had his second meeting with Dumbledore.

They had began with looking at memories of a house, a process that Dumbledore assured Harry was very complex. Remus, Bill, and the newly inducted Fleur Delacour had just returned from the home where Voldemort's mother had lived, bringing with them a silver globe that gave off an eery light. Dumbledore had placed it inside the pensive and it had exploded, memories suddenly swirling about. Harry had then been instructed to stick his hand in and they were off.

It was a long night, his mind reeling from the scenes he had witnessed. Harry wondered if Voldemort knew how cruelly his grandfather had treated his mother; how his uncle had implied that he took advantage of her in a very, very disgusting fashion. He shuddered as he remembered the run-down house, the perfect view of the Riddle graveyard, seated atop a hill that brought far more irksome memories to surface.

"Harry?" He gave Hermione a reassuring smile, grasping the handle of the door and pulling it open to reveal the usual DA room. Hermione slipped past him and grabbed a large volume from one of the bookshelves and settled herself into one of the chairs to wait. From her bag she drew a long roll of parchment and her quill and ink.

"What are you up to?" Seamus asked, running his fingers over books, but directing his question at Hermione. It had only been Seamus's first meeting, the day Umbridge pulled the plug on the DA, because Seamus's mum had convinced him Dumbledore was lying. They'd finally made up after Dumbledore's "removal" from Hogwarts.

"This is an index of advanced defensive magics," Hermione informed him, not glancing up from her book, right hand moving furiously.

"How are we supposed to learn them?" Seamus asked. Dean snorted.

"Harry'll learn them," he said. "Then we will."

"Yeah, but I can't exactly teach myself," Harry put in. "I'll have to get a hold of Remus. Maybe he can drop by and give me a hand."

"Remus?" Lavender asked, the door opening for nearly the rest of the DA.

"Remus is here?" Ginny asked excitedly.

"Nope," Ron told her. She looked disappointed, seating herself next to Dean, who put his arm around her waist, giving a quick glance at Ron, who it seemed, had given up on his adamant kill-Dean campaign.

"Remus?" Zacharias Smith inquired.

"We might as well just wait until the entire DA is here, or that question is going to be repeated about thirty times," Hermione commented shrewdly, shooting a nasty look at Zacharias, who many of the Gryffindor members were hostile to on the basis he had always somewhat doubted Harry.

Eventually the entire DA was assembled, aside from Cho Change and Marietta Edgecombe. The door opened one last time and Cho slipped in. Before anyone could speak, and Harry could tell by the look on Hermione's face, she was well prepared, Cho began a small speech.

"I know what Marietta did was horrid, and she shouldn't have done it. And I know that you all are mad at me because I defended her and everything, but," Harry had this unshakable feeling that while her gaze was focused on her shoes, she was speaking directly at him. "I really would like to still be part of the DA. I thought a lot about it over the summer. You-Know-Who has to be stopped and I want to help. Even if it means that I spend hours upon hours with a bunch of people who hate me."

"Oi, can it," Ron snapped. "Harry?"

"You can stay," he said slowly. She let out a breath and moved to sit. "But you can't tell Marietta anything that happens here. At all. Not even if Ron gets possessed by a demon of fire and starts burning down the school. Whatever charm Hermione's put on that parchment, she's going to take Marietta off and so talking to her would be the same as anyone else not on it. I don't like that sneak and I don't trust her. She shouldn't have talked, you're right. I'm not playing games here. Voldemort is killing people again, and this is a war. You need to realize that some things are bigger than this school, and our ridiculous Ministry of Magic."

"Got it," Cho said, and when she looked at him, Harry couldn't help but think she was telling the truth. "And I apologize to the entire DA for bringing Marietta." There were reluctant nods around the circle.

"So, once again, who is Remus?" Zacharias demanded.

"Professor Lupin might a name you're more familiar with," Harry said, sliding onto a table in the circle.

"Lupin! How is he? Well, after everything that went down in second year, I suspect he's doing horrid-" Susan gently placed her hand over Colin's mouth, giving Harry a small grin.

"Remus is actually doing quite well," Harry said. "Or he was the last time I saw him."

"I thought I saw him here the other day," Padma Patil offered. "But he was so far away it might have been someone else."

"It was probably him," Harry said. "He had something for Dumbledore."

"When did you see him?" asked Justin.

"He stays at the same place we do for summer," Ginny said in a bored tone.

"Where?"

"Classified information, Mr. Thomas," Ginny teased. "It's a safe-house from Voldemort."

"Right, we had better get down to business, because we're not going to get to spells tonight. If you want to be able to review by next meeting, I'd stuff it," Ron said.

"Oh, very tactful," Ginny said. Ron glared fiercely at his sister. "Then again, you do take after Percy." Ron made a lunge for his sister, but Hermione stepped between them.

"Both of you knock it off," Hermione ordered, giving them each a withering look. Ron's eyes could burn holes clear through a dragon, with the look he was giving her. Ginny was fingering her wand, fury clear on her face.

"Our first order of business is new recruits," Harry said, mindful of the situation between the siblings as Hermione pushed Ron back to the table. "We lost Fred, George, Alicia, Angelina, and Lee. Unfortunately, we're saddled with Smith for another year." The half-joke broke the tension created by Ron and Ginny. "Well, and Edgecomb, but that's a different matter. Does anyone have anybody in mind?"

"My brother," Seamus said immediately. "He's all for it. Only, I think he's a little young to try and accomplish some of these spells, being a first year and all. I think we need to set a standard year."

"How does third year sound?" Harry asked. They all agreed. "Anyone else?"

"Yes, but you're not going to like it," Ginny said blandly. "Melinda Bobbin. She's a fourth year."

"And a Slytherin," Dennis Creevey added.

"Yes, that's true," Ginny said, bracing for an explosion. She got one. Ron went off immediately, and a good few people sat gaping at her. "I met her two years ago on a weekend in this little circle of bushes on the far side of the lake. We weren't wearing robes so we didn't know what house the other was in. She's really shy, and she's nice and hates Draco Malfoy about as much as Harry. Her father owns a string of apothecaries, and he's not a Deatheater."

"You never told us you were buddies with a Slytherin," Ron spat.

"Have you ever thought of judging someone past the crest on their robes, Ronald," Ginny returned. "You're so pig-headed and ignorant!"

"ENOUGH!" They fell silent, looking at Harry to diffuse their anger. "Look, Ginny, if you say she's nice, I believe you. But if the majority is uncomfortable with her being let in, then I have to say no. I'm not going to lie; I'm a bit wary of inviting a Slytherin in myself."

"Fine," Ginny huffed. "There's also Freya Bucklebee, she's a Hufflepuff in fourth year."

"Good. If you find anyone else, just tell Hermione, she's going to keep a list. The new members will be selected at our next meeting and then we'll hold three separate meetings with them so they'll be able to catch up with us.

"Next, we're going to have a talk about Lord Voldemort. Beginning with what he's up to. I've gotten permission from Dumbledore to tell you the basics of what's going on. It doesn't leave this room, got it? Voldemort is after the Black Books, only no one knows where they are. We don't know his plan as of yet, just his ultimate goal. He wants an army of living dead, the power to create natural phenomenon, and a few of the more gruesome rituals that are rumored to be in the books. And that's all we've got." Silence held as each person pondered the new bit of information.

"I have an idea," Hermione said eventually. "Dumbledore told us that we're an official Hogwarts club. We're going to register ourselves as Dumbledore's Army, but the headmaster is the only one who is privy to that particular bit of information. We'll be listed as the DA, a Defense Association you must be invited into. However, we need to list officers. Harry, obviously, ahs already been voted president."

"And I nominate Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley for co-vice-presidents," Harry interrupted promptly. "All in favor?" Every hand in the room rose immediately.

"Well, okay, so we need a secretary, a treasurer, a librarian, and a mediator," Hermione said. "We are also allowed to add any other chairs and give any special ranks as we see fit. Secretary nominations?"

"Ginny Weasley," Dean said.

"Bite me," Ginny replied. "If any of you vote for me, you'll meet my friendly bats. And I nominate Luna Lovegood."

"I accept," Luna said shyly, in a very non-Luna sort of way.

"Any others? No? All in favor of Luna? Luna it is," Harry said, going as quickly as possible. Hermione had informed him of exactly what he should do as president of the DA. "Treasurer nominations!"

"Ginny Weasley!" Dean yelled. This time she accepted.

"Anthony Goldstein," Padma nominated.

"All in favor of Anthony? All in favor of Ginny? Ginny is the new treasurer. Librarian?"

"What the hell do they do?" asked Terry Boot.

"They keep all of our official records sorted," Hermione explained.

"NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!" Seamus yelled enthusiastically.

"Neville?" Michael Corner said indignantly. Neville's absent-minded reputation proceeded him, it would seem.

"Obviously, you pillock, you never seen Nev's chocolate frog cards. They're really far too orderly, if you ask me," Seamus said.

"Are you drunk?" Lavender asked, poking him in the side.

"We did a bit of review on cheering charms before we came down," Dean said guiltily. Hermione and Susan rolled their eyes in unison. "He volunteered!"

"Right, well, all in favor of Neville? That's it, then. And lastly, nominations for mediator?"

"Mediators go between the school and the DA, right?" asked Susan. Harry nodded. "Harry."

"But I'm president," Harry protested.

"Actually, it's quite common for the president to be the mediator as well," Hermione said briskly. "All in favor of Harry? It's unanimous."

"You can't do that!" Harry argued.

"Whenever the president is in a position of bias on a very important matter, the vice-president takes over," Hermione informed him. Harry resisted the urge to poke out his tongue. "My cousin visited me this summer, and he's president of his high school's student council he's from America. We're going to run things here sort of like that. Any motion must be seconded and everything is voted on my the group, majority rule. The president has the power to veto and the vice has the power to veto the veto and return it to voting, at which point the president can call a debate before the revote. That's how inductions will work."

"And I say we have enough time to review disarming, so everyone partner up," Harry announced.

"I second!" Ginny cried enthusiastically.

"All chairs please stay after for a meeting," Hermione said as everyone broke off into pairs. She snatched Ron's hand and dragged him over to a corner where they immediately began disarming each other.

Harry circled the room, observing their skill, deciding no one had gotten rusty and that most had improved. He had them change to stunning spells, which were also going better than last year. By the end of the meeting, he was feeling confident about his agenda for the year. And once if came to light he had been with the elves, as he knew it would, if his hunches on just what the Dimukai and Voldemort were up to, he felt confident that they would learn the basics of physical defense by summer break. If they all lived that long.