This was, without a doubt, one of the most odd things Albus had ever done. Surely he did not think that a boy could be of help to the Order. Sirius shook his head. That man was really off his rocker. It didn't matter how advanced a student was in Defense, they would never be truly prepared to fight a DeathEater. Then again, would grown wizards even be prepared to face such evil beings? He sighed. The answer was no. Perhaps he needed to give the boy a chance, even if he did think Dumbledore was mad for inviting him to this evening's meeting.
Dumbledore had warned James that he was inviting Harry to the meeting in order to induct him into the society. Consequently he had also warned Remus and Sirius as they were in the room as well. Remus listened as James miserably told Remus that Harry was his son. Remus only nodded, said, "I thought as much.", and spoke no more. Sirius thought Dumbledore was crazy to let a child into the Order—he should be allowed to have a normal life, after all, but James silenced him by raising his hand. He shook his head and informed him that it was actually better that Harry join the Order than be out of the loop. Sirius did not understand, but he was beginning to think that it was better that way as well. He could still think Dumbledore was mad, though.
Sirius opened the door to the Room of Requirement—the only room ever to escape mapping on the Marauder's Map. Sirius vaguely wondered where that thing had gotten too, but he brushed the thought away as he noticed that already Dumbledore, Minerva and members of the Order who did not teach at Hogwarts were in the room.
"Ah, Sirius, come and sit down, please," Dumbledore said. Sirius obeyed. The adults were all chatting with each other about things that Sirius, even at his not-so-young age, found boring. He waited until the room filled with Order members that were closer to his age—namely James and Remus. Finally the room was filled with everyone in the Order, from the youngest inductees (Fred and George Weasley) to the oldest (Dumbledore)—all except for young Harry Evans.
"All right, Dumbledore, everyone's here, so let's get started, shall we?" Kingsley boomed. Dumbledore shook his head.
"Alas, Kingsley, not everyone is here yet—we are missing one," said Dumbledore. Kingsley looked around the room in confusion, making sure he had not put someone in the room who wasn't there by mistake.
"Who's missing, Albus?" Kingsley asked. At that very moment, as if to answer his question, Harry opened the door, came inside and shut it, standing at the door and not bothering to sit down. Sirius noticed though that he did this out of respect rather than out of being anti-social.
"Ah, Harry, we were all just wondering where you were. Come," Dumbledore said, and Harry obeyed, standing at his side. Dumbledore stood up. "We have with us today a very special person who has five times defied Voldemort and occasionally his followers as well. He is the most skilled young person in Defense that I have ever seen and I think we are lucky to have him on our side. He even began his own Order last year that taught students Defense—specifically against Voldemort and his DeathEaters. One day when we are all old and weak that may become the first line of Defense that the Light will have against Voldemort. Due to these unusual circumstances, I feel it necessary to allow Harry membership into the Order early. He must learn from me how to lead an Order, how to lead an army, so that when his time comes he will be well prepared. I have decided that his formal induction will take place on his seventeenth birthday, but until that time Harry is very much so a member of the Order of The Phoenix. You may be seated, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said. Harry obeyed his orders while everyone just gawked at them both. However, no one seemed in the mood to challenge Dumbledore's decision. Anyone who would oppose fell silent at the look Dumbledore was giving them all.
"On to the rest of our business. As you all know, terrible things have been befalling England lately and Minister Fudge has been replaced by Minister Scrimgeour. Although I find that Minister Scrimgeour is far more competent than Minister Fudge, it is still the Ministry and like always they are against us even though we are fighting the same battle. We must be just as cautious with this new Minister—if not more cautious—as we were before. As to Voldemort's movement, we have our spies watching him, though they are finding it difficult to predict his next move. Our younger spy has informed us, however, of an attack planned on Godric's Hollow. For this attack we have already set our troops in position and have subtly hinted to the Ministry that the Hollow will need protection. As to all else, we must sit and wait. Now, I have placed Kingsley in charge of the Red troops, but I need a volunteer to take charge of the Gold troops." Dumbledore chose a leader for the Gold troops and continued on speaking about the war strategy, most of which Harry did not understand. Eventually Dumbledore stopped to tell them that he would not deny them of their dinner, and a small feast appeared on the long conference table before them. Different groups sat mingling, and Harry felt rather out of place. It was then that he noticed he was sitting right next to Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and his very own father, James Potter.
"I wonder where that old map went," Professor Black was saying. "Any idea Moony?" Harry could not for the life of him figure out who he was talking to until "Moony" or Professor Lupin, answered him.
"I inquired about it to Argus, telling him that now that we were adults and Professors it was our rightful property and he should give it back. I went down with him to his dungeon to look for it, but it wasn't where it should have been. In fact, it wasn't anywhere. Filch cursed at me and said some hooligan must've swiped it. He has no idea where it is—well, no, I take that back. He thinks a certain pair of Weasleys snatched it," Professor Lupin said, gesturing subtly to Fred and George who were talking to Bill and Charlie. Harry wondered vaguely why he hadn't thought of talking with them, or why they hadn't bothered to speak to him.
"They've got it? Then why don't we get it back? They've left school after all, it can be of no use to them," Sirius said.
"We don't know if they took it, and it would probably be rude to ask," Professor Lupin then turned to Harry, though Harry didn't notice until he began to speak to him. "Harry, you wouldn't happen to know if Fred and George Weasley were in possession of a certain…map. It's entitled the "Marauder's Map". James, Sirius and I made it when we were in school, and for sentimental purposes we'd like it back. Do you know if they have it?" Harry froze as a chill like ice passed down his spine. So that was who had made the map. Harry felt sickened and disgusted that he had been using things from his filthy, pureblood Father for so many years to help him avoid trouble and danger. Harry shook his head as disgust and anger boiled inside of him.
"They don't have it," Harry said, but just as Remus began to look disappointed Harry finished, "because I do." All three Marauders froze, looking at him. He gave them all a piercing glare. He hated them all for letting James do that to his Mother. He hated every last one of them. Damn them all for all he cared! Harry abruptly stood up. "If you want it," Harry said icily, "I'll gladly get it for you, because I don't want it anymore." With that Harry left the Room of Requirement, very nearly slamming the door behind him. The Order went silent.
Harry must have looked very much like Snape as he stormed into Gryffindor Tower. His black robes were billowing out behind him and a permanent angry look had settled on his face. The entire Gryffindor common room froze when Harry came in, slamming the portrait hole closed behind him.
"Ha-Harry?" Ginny managed to ask nervously, but Harry merely stormed right on past her to his dormitory. When he arrived there he ravaged his trunk and threw out his stupid invisibility cloak which stood as a symbol of what he thought was the love of a dead father. He threw out the Maurader's Map which had once been just a useful tool to get around the school now turned against him. While he had been clawing out the items of his trunk, however, one last item fell out. It was his mother's photo album. Harry took it in his uncertain hands, though he wasn't quite sure why. He thought he heard something behind him, thought he heard the door to the dormitory open, but at the moment Harry didn't care.
Trembling for an unknown reason, Harry flipped to the first page. Pictures of his mother were there as always. There she was riding a horse, there she was on her bicycle, there she was playing with her muggle friends jump rope in the driveway. Tears threatened to spill from Harry's eyes. This was the woman who had so kindly given him life even when abortion would have been the smarter thing to do. This woman had even loved him so much that she gave her life for him. Now the tears began to fall. It was this woman's screams he heard every night. It was her face he saw. The face of the only being who had ever loved him was the one he was looking at now. He had adored her, and now it seemed that her image was being dragged through the mud by his own Father. She was being mocked and shamed, and Harry simply couldn't take it. All he'd ever wanted was for her to live again. He wanted her love, and Harry was sick to his stomach to admit it, but yes, he wanted the love of a Father too.
It was then that Harry felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He jumped—he didn't like being surprised, and touching almost always meant that that person meant him harm. Yet when he turned around all he saw was the face of James Potter, the loving father he never knew and never had and now, didn't even want and yet wanted so deeply. Harry turned away from him. He would be strong. He was not about to cry in front of the man who had caused his tears.
"Harry," he said gently. Yet Harry refused to look at him, refused to give him the satisfaction of his tears. Harry was shocked when the older man pulled him into a warm embrace. "Do you really think I'm that awful?" James asked, looking terribly pained. Harry was just so much in shock that he could not move. He'd only ever been hugged by Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, and he knew that gesture to be a nice one, not a smothering technique. So he wondered, why was this man hugging him? "I guess you do." James was saying. He looked down at Harry. Harry, he noticed, was still silently crying, even when he hadn't meant to. When he realized this, he obviously struggled in vain to fight back the tears, but it wasn't working. James looked down upon this child in astonishment—he had almost never known a child to fight back their tears. Perhaps boys did once in a while, yes, so as not to show their weakness, but surely he knew that James did not care? James sighed. No, he supposed. No, he didn't know. James held him tighter so the Harry's face was nearly on his shoulder. He said in the most comforting voice he could manage, the voice he remembered his own loving father used to use on him, "It's okay to cry, Harry."
Perhaps it was with that permission, or perhaps it was because he could no longer fight the tears, but whatever it was Harry finally sat there and cried on his Father's shoulders.
Eventually Harry calmed down. James did the proper fatherly thing and dried his son's tears as he sat there, averting his eyes and looking shame-faced.
"Crying is nothing to be ashamed of, Harry," James said. He was met with a silence that James knew to meant that Harry disagreed. He sighed. "Fine, we'll discuss that later. Now," he said, turning to his trunk, which James noticed had been ravaged. James took his old invisibility cloak and put it into Harry's hands, "That is yours. It was a family heirloom and I do intend upon upholding the tradition. And," James said again, this time taking the old map in his hands and putting it into Harry's, "that is yours as well. It must have been so for years now in this way and just because I showed up that shouldn't change it. You are a prankster—for good, for evil or just for fun; it doesn't matter. That is a gift from me and your Uncles Moony and Padfoot, and we solemnly swear never to catch you out of bed after hours unless it is completely for your own good." James said that last bit while holding up his hand like a boy scout. This, surprisingly to James, tugged a small smile out of Harry.
"Okay. Thank you, Professor," Harry said. James smiled gently at him.
"Just call me 'James', Harry," he said, and with that he got up. "I'd best get going—papers to grade and the like. I will see you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you," Harry said, just as Professor Potter was leaving. Harry stared after him for quite a while, trying to clear his confused thoughts. Maybe he really wasn't such a terrible guy after all. Definitely no Snape, he could get that much simply because Snape would never touch a person unless to harm them, much less hug them. Harry snickered at the thought of Snape hugging a student. Yeah, that will happen when pigs fly. With that one last thought, Harry got ready for bed and went to sleep.