Harry fastened his robe and made sure his effects were in place, and stalked over to the fireplace, whistling for Grindelwald and Khariana. The two beasts rested their heads against Harry's legs, as he grabbed a handful of floo powder.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place."

Chapter Nine: Ordered Chaos – Blood Brother

Preliminary Author's Note: This chapter has been rewritten and reposted, and I really wouldn't want to wake up tomorrow morning and find my story has been banned for posting an author's note as a chapter. I don't think any of my readers would report me for something so trivial, but as the old saying goes: "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." The next installment should be up by Monday evening, if all goes according to plan.

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Naturally, I'm making no money off this.

Harry tumbled out of the fireplace at Grimmauld Place with the same grace as he had the previous evening at the hotel, this time managing to land on his feet. Grindelwald and Khariana collided in midair and landed in a colorful heap, but quickly regained their bearings. The sitting room was empty, but the overpowering smell of bacon and maple syrup coming from the kitchen indicated that breakfast was currently being served. Harry motioned for his two pets to stay put while he stalked forward to investigate, masking his magical signature and being especially careful to make no noise. Reaching the entrance to the dining room, he saw that most of the Weasleys were present, with Molly, Arthur, Ron, Ginny, Bill and the twins sitting at the table. Sitting at Bill's side was Fleur Delacour, which surprised Harry. He had heard from Ron that the two were dating, but hadn't quite believed it and had never thought to ask Bill. Hermione was likewise sitting to Ron's left, but aside from the aforementioned, very few Order members were present. Only Tonks and Kingsley, who were most likely just grabbing a bit to eat before work, and Mundungus joined them.

Harry slid into the room unnoticed, as the group had its attention fixated on Arthur Weasley as he prattled on about something or the other. Harry didn't particularly care what, though he imagined it had something to do with the Weasley patriarch's job at the Ministry. He sat down in the nearest seat, on Ron's other side, and quietly filled a plate. At this point, Bill happened to glance over in Harry's direction, and saw him sitting there as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The eldest Weasley son's eyes widened a bit, but Harry only smirked back at him and turned in Ron's direction.

"Oi, Ron. Pass me the syrup, mate."

Ron answered automatically as he reached for the requested item and turned in Harry's direction.

"Yeah, sure thing, Har...Harry!"

Harry smiled saccharinely and nodded back to his best friend, whose exclamation effectively halted the conversation around him. All eyes flew to Harry, whose changed appearance caused shock to register in a few, and lust to shine in a few others.

"Well, good morning, everybody. I'm sure you won't mind me joining you for breakfast?"

Ron immediately pulled Harry out of his chair and wrapped him up in a brotherly hug. Certainly not what he was expecting, but his trained reflexes kept him from losing his balance. Harry arched an eyebrow at his friend, but the effect was ruined as another red headed figure, as well as one with bushy brown hair summarily tackled him. Ginny and Hermione had latched themselves to his sides with tears in their eyes. Glancing about, he noticed that Molly was likewise near tears. Harry supposed that he should be touched by the show of affection and devotion, but his thoughts only centered on how he could turn it to his advantage. Feeling a bit stifled, he turned back to Ron and patted him on the back.

"Hey, I missed you too, mate, but if you don't let go soon I'm liable to start wondering about you."

Ron leapt back as if Harry had suddenly transformed into a particularly nasty arachnid, albeit with a genuine smile on his face. Harry rolled his eyes comically and nuzzled the hair of his two female assailants until they let go, both blushing heavily. Of course, as soon as they did, Mrs. Weasley enveloped him in a bear hug of her own.

"Where have you been, Harry Potter? We have been so worried about you! Oh, I have to go and floo Albus! He'll want to know that you're safe at Headquarters!"

With that, Molly scampered off into the sitting room. Harry hoped that she wouldn't notice Grindelwald and Khariana as he sat back down to breakfast. He didn't have much time to eat, as the inquisition began almost immediately, Ron predictably firing the first salvo.

"Seriously, mate, where have you been? Like mum said, we've all been worried like Hell. You shoulda been here when Moody came in with the news that you had left the muggles. It was like somebody set off about a hundred Howlers in here. So, what gives?"

Harry sighed, but looked up with a forced smile. He noticed Bill looking at him with a calculating expression and Fleur smiling amicably to his side.

"I guess I just needed to get away from things for awhile. Well, that wasn't really all of it. I got this weird letter from Gringotts the afternoon I came home from Privet Drive, saying they needed to discuss something with me. It just set a whole chain of events into motion, and I ended up spending the last month training, learning advanced magic and dueling technique. I think I learned more than I have in all five years at Hogwarts."

Naturally, this got Hermione particularly interested, though she took her usual admonishing tone.

"Well, I'm glad to know that you've been putting your time to good use, but did you have to leave your relatives, Harry? Dumbledore would have sent you books to study from if you had requested them, or I would have been happy to. I know you hate it at Privet Drive, Harry, but Dumbledore wouldn't send you there if he didn't have a good reason."

Harry suppressed his annoyance, knowing that Hermione meant well, and was just being Hermione. Besides, he didn't particularly need to raise any more of a ruckus than his sudden arrival already had.

"There are a lot of things you can't just learn from books, Hermione. Learning to duel properly requires a partner, and I did a lot of other practical stuff as well. I'll explain everything to you guys later, I promise. Besides, I don't think I could have taken another summer with the Dursleys. As you can see, I'm perfectly fine. The only wizard that's accosted me in the entire month I've been gone is Snape, and that was just yesterday afternoon."

Ron, of course, couldn't resist the urge to comment on that.

"Snape tried to attack you? Where? That damned greasy git, I don't know why Dumbledore keeps him around."

"He saw me leaving Madame Malkin's yesterday. Don't worry, mate, I blasted him clear across Diagon Alley and through an apothecary..."

Harry was cut off in mid-sentence by the arrival of the Headmaster, flanked by Snape and McGonagall.Dumbledore had a severe look on his face, and his eyes were devoid of their usual twinkle. Snape, Harry noted with satisfaction, was in noticeable pain as he swept along. The young dakaathi hybrid only looked at them with an obviously faked innocence.

"Hello, professors. I hope I haven't caused you too much trouble this morning?"

Dumbledore looked around the room.

"Children, would you please excuse us? Young Harry has some explaining to do."

Hermione, Ginny, and especially Ron complained loudly at being excluded, but eventually stood and left when they noticed the growing anger on Mrs. Weasley's face. Mundungus beat a hasty retreat, knowing that the woman's rage would invariably be turned on him as well. She had never forgiven him for his negligence regarding the Dementor incident at Privet Drive the previous summer. Harry didn't really want them around for the coming firestorm either, preferring to explain his circumstances to his friends on his own terms. Once they had left, he surveyed the gathered Order members, noticing that Tonks and Kingsley had also left at some point. He sent a wink at Bill, who responded with an amused smirk.

"Harry, would you please explain to me why you felt the need to abandon the safety of your relatives' home?"

Harry looked up at the old man, purposefully avoiding direct eye contact. He had remembered Grilthauk telling him about the enhanced mental capacities of the dakaath a month back, and felt more or less confident in his ability to hold his own against a Legilimency attack, but decided not to give the Headmaster an open invitation to put it to the test. He sent a barely noticeable sneer at Snape, whose sallow skin flushed slightly in anger, and answered Dumbledore with a shrug and an intentionally flippant tone.

"Not much to say, really. Got a letter from Gringotts, the President's office. It seemed important, and the summons indicated as much, so I went. Uncle Vernon was more than happy to give me a ride."

The old man sighed. Harry could see a slight hint of disappointment in his eyes, as if admonishing him for so blatantly disregarding his safety. Still, there was no way he was going to go back to Privet Drive, no matter what Dumbledore tried to pull.

"Harry, you know that you must remain in your Aunt Petunia's home so that the blood protection can renew itself. It is not only for your own protection, but for theirs as well. I must insist that you prepare to re..."

"No..."

Snape strode forward, glaring.

"Do not interrupt the Headma..."

Harry glanced over at the angered Potions professor, drawing his masterpiece wand with both graceful speed and deadly precision. He pointed right at Snape's injured ribs. As easy as it would probably be to curse him again, Harry didn't want to arouse Dumbledore's ire. He would act like he was still angry and grieving, and try to gain the old man's sympathy. He was going to need it for the coming confrontation.

"How's the injury, Snape? Now, go back into the corner like a good little boy, before I have to give you another spanking. I've had my fill of your childish grudges, and I have bigger issues to deal with."

Snape sputtered, reaching into his robes, but Dumbledore stopped him with a gentle hand on the wrist.

"That will be enough, Severus. Minerva, please escort Severus to Madame Pomfrey. That injury needs treatment."

Snape looked beyond murderous, as if catching Harry violating his memories the previous term had only been a minor annoyance by comparison. There was little he could do at the moment, however. He gathered himself with as much dignity as he could muster and left with the Transfiguration professor, robes billowing only slightly as he limped along. Dumbledore looked sadly at Harry.

"Was it really necessary to curse him yesterday, Harry? You know how fragile Professor Snape's ego is. He will not rest until he has had his revenge, and will certainly attempt to strike back at you when I am not there to intercede on your behalf."

"I'm not concerned about him, sir. He's a sad, bitter little man, and only barely worth the energy I expended to hex him. Like I said, I have bigger issues to deal with. Losing Sirius taught me that."

Dumbledore sighed again and smiled sadly, the twinkle returning faintly to his eyes. Harry smiled back at him, fighting down the slight urge to point and laugh at his gullibility.

"I understand your grief, Harry, but you cannot continue to vent your anger upon those around you. I shall attempt to smooth things over with Professor Snape upon returning to Hogwarts, but for now, may I ask what you learned as a result of your summoning to Gringotts?"

Harry took a brief glance at Bill, who was looking on with some concern. He nodded at his fellow conspirator, indicating that he knew how to handle this. He would come forward with just enough of the truth about his meeting with Grilthauk and his transformation to convince the old man that he wasn't hiding anything. The ring adorning his finger and the wings extending from his back were both telltale signs, and Harry knew that it would be impossible to stop Dumbledore from being at least somewhat wary of him in the future. He hoped that his voluntary return to Headquarters combined with his relative forthrightness would minimize the damage as much as possible.

"Well, originally they wanted to talk to me about Sirius's estate, and the fact that he had made me his heir, and thus the next head of the family. I was a bit suspicious, since I hardly thought that the simple matter of a will reading or whatever would require a meeting with the top level of the bank hierarchy and all. That matter has yet to be finalized, though."

Dumbledore nodded, just the slightest bit of the trademark twinkle returning to his eyes. He didn't speak for several moments, making Harry slightly suspicious.

"Professor? Is something the matter?"

"No, Harry. Forgive an old man's absentmindedness. Please, continue."

Harry was easily able to surmise that the old coot was laying plans, but was reassured by the fact that he was already a legal adult, and that Grilthauk would promptly shoot down any attempt Dumbledore might make to meddle in Harry's affairs at Gringotts. Besides, Harry was just about ready to drop the proverbial bomb on the old man. He was going to enjoy this.

"Right, I was then told that the real reason for my being summoned was that their investigation of my bloodlines turned up some questionable results, and that they had reason to believe that my mum wasn't actually muggleborn like we had all thought..."

Dumbledore looked a bit surprised at this. Of course, Harry remembered, Grilthauk had secretly hidden Harry's maternal grandfather away after the final battle, so the old man probably wouldn't havethought that Lily could be pureblooded. However, he seemed to catch onto the implications very quickly, a fact visibly heralded by a dawning horror flashing through his eyes. Thetwinkle was gone again. As if to drive the final nail into the coffin, Harry flashed his ring.

"...They asked me to fit this ring onto my finger."

The color almost immediately drained from the wizened sage's face. Harry mentally crowed at the picture before him. Having his victory secured, it was now time to assuage Dumbledore's worries and convince him that Harry was still the same Gryffindor golden boy from before. He had plans for his time at Hogwarts, and having Dumbledore constantly looking over his shoulder would hamper them significantly.

"I see, Harry. Did they tell you of its significance?"

Harryshook his headin the negative.

"No, they only told me that it was the legacy ring of my mother's line, and that she was never aware that she was the sole heiress to an old family. I tried to ask them about the family's history, but they suddenly got really quiet and evaded the question. I really came here today hoping you could explain some of it to me, aside from wanting to see Ron and Hermione."

Dumbledore inclined his head slightly, the twinkle beginning to return to his eyes once again. Harry steeled himself to hear what was likely to be a very skewed interpretation of the events of half a century ago. Grilthauk's story was likewise biased, but Harry had read his great-grandfather's journals during some of his leisure time in the village, and generally agreed with the old goblin's version of events.

"I would be happy to, Harry. However, the tale may be a bit difficult to swallow, and I must ask you to remain calm. Now, you must first know that the old Evans line is one of the wealthiest and most influential in all of wizarding Europe, as well as one of the most ancient. Many years ago, a young man named Alphonse was born into the family. He was a brilliant wizard, and many of his accomplishments have changed the wizarding world. However, he thirsted for knowledge, desiring to unravel the very essence of what makes us wizards and witches what we are. Some mysteries are not meant to be solved, Harry. One day, he found a book in his family's repository, one detailing a method through which the fabric between dimensions could be torn. He could not contain his curiosity, and strove to travel through the fabric of space and time himself. I am ashamed to admit that, in my ambitious youth, I assisted in his endeavor, lending him the power needed to open a portal. Seventy years passed, and one day, Alphonse returned from his journey, having spent all those years in a realm populated by the vilest of demons."

Harry bristled ever so slightly at this completeinsult to his heritage, but again fought the emotions down. Exploding in rage now would ruin everything. At least Dumbledore was keeping to the general story, though Harry knew that the old man was spinning it to paint himself in a better light. He let the Headmaster continue.

"During his time in this demon realm, Alphonse had fallen into the blackest of magics, twisting his soul beyond salvation. I do not blame him entirely, Harry. The very air in the demon realm is toxic to the human spirit. I imagine that the brilliant wizard that I was proud to call my mentor was long since dead when his body came back through the portal. He sought to use his black magic to destabilize the wizarding world, while fear and paranoia were already at their height due to the horrors of the great muggle wars of the early half of the century. The creature that was once Alphonse Evans took advantage of this, styling himself Lord Grindelwald, and claiming to be an agent of Nazi Germany. All aspects of our society rallied against him, but the battle was terrible still. Many hybrid magical races, including the goblins, flocked to Grindelwald's side, hoping to gain dominance over human wizards. In the end, I was able to defeat my former mentor and restore peace. I was not aware that he had fathered a child, and I haven't the faintest idea by whom. However, had he not, we would never have had your mother, nor you. I know this must be quite a shock, Harry, and I am sorry to place yet another burden onto your shoulders. You must remember that even the greatest wizards can fall prey to their own ambitions, and be vigilant that the same never happens to you."

Well, Harry thought, he had expected no less from Dumbledore. Bill was still listening in, looking pensive. Harry imagined that he was trying to hide his outrage at the old man's blatant misinterpretations as well. Fleur was looking sympathetically at Harry, as were Molly and Arthur. Harry decided to give them the show that they were obviously looking for. He purposely fashioned a sickened expression onto his face.

"Me, a child of a dark lord's line? No, that can't be true! I won't believe it!"

Harry sincerely hoped that this mock outburst had sufficiently rused the old man into believing that his Gryffindor hero remained untainted. Still, one could never truly tell what the old man was thinking. The sad smile and underlying flash of relief in his twinking eyes gave Harry reason to believe that he had done well enough.

"No, Harry. You are Harry James Potter. Nothing more, and nothing less. Remember that it is our choices that define who we are, and not what we are born. The Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor, and you have sacrificed to help and protect the people that you care about on countless occasions. That makes you very different from Alphonse Evans, never forget. Now, is there anything else you would like to ask me about?"

"Yeah, one thing. For the few days prior to my trip to Gringotts, I had been feeling all of these odd sensations. When I put on the ring, they intensified and I sprouted a pair of wings, along with a few other changes. I'm sure you've noticed my hair. I don't really understand any of it. Anyway, I managed to procure a vial of invisibility solution and hide them, so I wouldn't scare people."

Harry couldn't ever remember the Headmaster looking visibly stumped before. With his wrinkled face scrunched up even more than usual, it was a most unbecoming state.

"Would you allow me to have a look, Harry?"

Harry nodded and removed his silken robe. For a moment, he glanced at the tattoo on his chest, and realized that nobody else seemed to notice it. He guessed that Zharrghast could somehow hide himself from the vision of those not directly connected to him, but the sentient blade contained somewhere within Harry's essence deigned not to confirm or deny it. Harry noticed Molly Weasley blushing slightly at the sight of his topless form, and only barely suppressed a shudder. Fleur only seemed curious, though, which was fine with Harry. He didn't need Bill's girlfriend making passes at him and straining their relationship. Harry languidly turned his back to Dumbledore.

"You'll have to undo the effects of the solution."

"Of course. Reverso Invicicium!"

As soon as Dumbledore's spell struck Harry's back, the wings phased into view. He remembered it had taken a few seconds when Alberto had used the same incantation on just a few of his feathers, a comparison indicative of the vast power difference between the two wizards. Dumbledore looked Harry's forest green wings over, nodding his head ever so slightly. The young dakaathi hybrid was fully aware that the old man had no clue what to make of the situation, but waited for an explanation regardless.

"Well, Harry, it would seem that you have some veela blood within you. However, the fact that your wings seem to be permanent is an odd phenomenon. I shall attempt to investigate the matter further. But first...Miss Delacour, perhaps you might be able to offer some insight?"

Fleur looked a bit surprised at being addressed all of a sudden.

"Non, 'Eadmaster. I 'ave never seen anything like 'zis before."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Very well. Harry, please remain here for the remainder of the day and spend some time with your friends. I will return tomorrow, and we will discuss the matter of your month's disappearance and whether or not to return you to your relatives. Now, you'll have to excuse me. I have a meeting with Minister Fudge to attend."

Harry didn't believe for a second that Dumbledore had any such meeting. These most recent events had seemingly, at least from Harry's perspective, contradicted the old man's calculations enough that he was now being forced to make a tactical withdrawal and reconsider his position with regards to the younger wizard. Dumbledore would no doubt be better prepared for their next meeting, Harry thought with a bit of concern. Smiling broadly at Harry, Dumbledore rose and left, his eyes twinkling as brightly as ever. Arthur followed behind, stating that he was already late for work. Molly smiled through slightly teary eyes and gave Harry a hug, while performing a household warming charm on his breakfast plate.

"You must have been through quite a bit, dear. I can't say that I approve of the hair, but that's not important. Now, finish up your breakfast and go on upstairs to catch up with Hermione and Ron. I'm giong to tidy up the living room."

Molly left, and Harry quickly ate his breakfast, but not before folding his wings back against his body and putting his robes back on. Looking up, he saw Bill staring at him, decidedly amused. The remaining Weasley quickly threw up a silencing charm around the room.

"Well, you handled the old man better than I had hoped. He doesn't seem to suspect anything. I was actually worried that you were going to curse Snape again and start up a brouhaha with Dumbledore. Not that I would have blamed you, mind..."

Harry shook his head slightly, tossing a quick glance over at Fleur. Bill noticed his implication and assured him.

"...Oh, and don't worry about Fleur. She knows, and she's loyal."

The stunning French quarter-veela smiled at Harry.

"Oui, do not worry, 'Arry. Bill 'as told me all about what you've been doing. I will 'elp you in any way I can. I 'ave not forgotten about what you did for my seester."

Harry nodded, having no reason to doubt her, or to question Bill's judgment of her loyalty.

"Great to have you with us, then. Now, I'm not ready to believe that I have Dumbledore completely convinced of anything quite yet. We still haven't addressed the issue of my disappearance, or of my blasting Snape and then blatantly walking away from the Order yesterday. Still, I do think that he's genuinely inclined to believe that nothing has really changed between the two of us. He'll keep a closer eye on me for awhile, but I just have to be careful and stay under the old man's radar."

"Right, well, I have to be leaving for Gringotts here in a minute. Since you're obviously stuck here for the day, do you need anything?"

Harry smirked ever so slightly.

"Yeah, if you could pick up my bags from my stay in the village, particularly my yukata collection and my books, I'd appreciate it. Also, grab me a bottle of firewhiskey and a vial of Calming Draught on the way back for lunch. For some reason, I imagine that I'll be needing both."

Bill could barely surpress his mirth.

"Anything else, Your Majesty?"

"Ask Grilthauk to schedule both Sirius's will reading and the transferal of the Potter estate for early next week, on my birthday. And tell him to be on the lookout for an owl from me."

"Sure thing, Harry. See you at lunch."

"Later, Bill. I appreciate it."

With that, Bill strode off, dragonhide boots clicking on the wooden floor, leaving only Harry and Fleur, who looked at him with laughter shining in her cerulean eyes.

"You are quite 'ze commander, non, 'Arry?"

Harry kept the small smirk on his face.

"You'd better believe it. Well, I'll be headed upstairs. I've got Hermione and half a bushel of Weasleys waiting for the latest."

"I 'zink I weel go with you, 'Arry. It is either 'zat or get forced to 'elp Bill's muzzer with 'ze 'ousework."

"Not a domestic veela, then?"

"Most certainly not, 'Arry. Shall we?"

Fleur extended her arm daintily, and Harry took it with amusement. At least, he hoped she was only playing around with him. He rather enjoyed the short banter, and wished for a moment that he had gotten to know the part-veela better during the Triwizard Tournament. They reached the top of the stairs quickly enough, and Harry released her arm. It might have just been innocent flirting to the two of them, but he somehow doubted that Ron or Ginny would find any humor in seeing their friend walking arm-in-arm with their eldest brother's girlfriend, not to mention Hermione. Harry heard conversation coming from one of the rooms to the left and headed in, finding his three friends sprawled about on the floor, Hermione and Ginny petting his two errant tigers.

"So, this is where you two have been. Naughty."

Five heads: two human, two feline, and one weasel, snapped over to the doorway, from where Harry strode into the room and plopped down onto the large bed. Judging from the abundance of Chudley Cannons memorabilia spread about, it was Ron's bedroom. Fleur slid in behind him and sat carefully down onto the bed as well, apparently bit too close to Harry for Hermione's liking, if the slight scowl was any indicator. She let it slide, though, and turned to Harry.

"What happened with you and Professor Dumbledore, Harry? Are you going to be able to stay here for the rest of summer?"

"I would imagine so. Dumbledore said we would discuss it tomorrow, but he can't really force me to go back to Privet Drive. So, I'll either stay here or go find somewhere else on my own. I've had enough of those muggles to last the rest of my life."

Hermione frowned slightly.

"Harry, you shouldn't defy Dumbledore like that. He's only trying to do what's best..."

Harry decided not to get into this argument, and quickly moved to change the subject. Besides, her heart hadn't seemed to have been completely behind the admonishment. That intrigued Harry, but he was given no time to consider the implications, knowing that he was expected to make conversation now.

"No worries, I doubt he's going to try to send me back there anyway."

Ginny piped in.

"So, what were you two talking about down there, anyway?"

"He just wanted to know why I left the muggles, mostly."

"Why did you, anyway? I mean, I'm not blaming you, but it was only the second day of break. They couldn't have driven you out of your mind that quickly..."

Harry smiled mysteriously.

"Oh, you'd be surprised. But the actual reason I left was..."

Harry went on to tell his friends more or less the same story that he had told Dumbledore, of his receiving the letter from Gringotts and arranged meeting with a high member of the bank hierarchy. He didn't mention Grilthauk at all, either by name or by title, figuring that Hermione would know all about the President almost never meeting with wizard clientele. Harry just wanted to get through the story quickly. He told of the pretense of summoning him to London regarding the Black estate, of being given the ring, and used Dumbledore's explanation for his transformation. Naturally, they demanded to see his wings, and so he ended up shrugging off his robe a second time.

He read the countenances of each of his friends while he spoke of his being ordained Lord Evans, of his emancipation, and of his connection to Grindelwald. None of them showed any signs of anger or disgust, though Ron looked a bit uneasy. He had imagined that they would take the news much worse, even though Grindelwald was long before their time. He went on to describe his trip down into the Evans complex in detail, explaining the contents of each room and promising to show them the place sometime. Hermione took a particular interest in the library, naturally. Once that leg of the story had been told, Ron asked another question, his face unreadable.

"So, mate, where did you go after touring the vault?"

Harry knew that he needed to invent an explanation here, as he didn't want to reveal anything about the Shinn Kohaku and risk blowing the tenuous cover he was keeping.

"I hid out in Knockturn Alley for awhile, but not in the main part where all the dark wizards skulk about. The place is actually pretty quiet when you get deep into the back alleys. Mostly I just wanted to look around. I ended up stumbling across a small wand shop owned by a retired auror. I talked to the guy for awhile, and we got on pretty well. He let me stay at his place for awhile and taught me some advanced magic and dueling. When I felt like I had learned enough, he crafted a new wand for me. Here, check it out."

Harry grabbed his masterpiece wand from his belt and handed it to Ron, who looked decidedly impressed with it.

"Bloody Hell, mate. This is cool. I wish I could get one of these..."

"What's it made of, Harry?"

Harry turned to Hermione, who had asked the question.

"The wood's an elder treant core, with a few of my wing feathers suspended in a mixed blood sample from my two pets as a core. The discharge stone is a composite of a sunstone and a moonstone."

Hermione nodded and asked another question.

"So, where did you get those two animals, anyway?"

"Small exotic pet shop a few blocks from where I was staying. Nobody would buy them because they were regarded as dangerous and expensive to keep, and the shop was going to put them out just to get rid of them. I decided to give them a good home."

"That was very sweet of you, Harry."

Harry gave himself a mental pat on the back, having surprised even himself with his ability to improvise a workable story. The two beasts just looked up at him, almost as if offended by his fabricated story. He sent them a quick apology through their mental link.

Ginny asked the next question, at which point Harry was starting to get a bit irritated.

"What are their names?"

"...James and Lily."

Ginny smiled and nodded, giving the two large cats a quick scratch behind the ears. For his part, Harry wasn't about to admit to naming one of his pets after Lord Grindelwald, and figured that using his parents' names would win him a few easy sympathy points. He turned to Ron.

"Up for a game of chess, mate?"

Ron nodded eagerly, seemingly happy to be leaving the entire subject behind. Harry noticed that his best mate hadn't been completely taken in by his smokescreen, but was thankful that the redhead had chosen not to call his bluff. Ron got his chessboard and set the pieces, while the two girls played with the tigers. Fleur watched Harry and Ron, though she seemed to be focusing on Harry as much as the chessboard, a slightly appreciative expression crossing her beautiful angular face every time she looked at the young dakaathi hybrid. They played a match series of five games, of which Ron won four, easily beating Harry in the first, and having a progressively increasing amount of difficulty, finally losing the last in a war of attrition.

The day progressed uneventfully from there, with the small group engaged mostly in small talk about various subjects. Bill brought the items Harry had asked for at lunch, and told Harry that the bank would be sending official notification of Sirius's will reading the next morning. Harry thankfully went upstairs and changed into his green and white yukata, hiding the firewhisky and potion in a drawer in Ron's bedroom, along with some of the more questionable books in his small collection. Predictably, Hermione raided Harry's books immediately upon seeing the small pile on the floor, asking to borrow a book one of Alphonse'streatises on magical theory. Harry arched an eyebrow, surprised to see her sowilling to study something written by a known dark lord, but she didn't seem to notice. She fliched a second book from his bag while he wasn't watching and quickly hid it in her robes, a strange gleam in her chocolate brown eyes.

Later in the evening, Hermione and Ginny left for bed, leaving only Harry and Ron up in the latter's room. Fleur had long since gone downstairs, right after Bill had returned from Gringotts earlier in the afternoon. Harry walked over to the drawer and got out his bottle of firewhiskey.

"Oi, Ron. Want something to drink?"

Ron glanced over from the bed, where he was staring up at the ceiling. He raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Firewhiskey? Where'd you get that, Harry? Sure, I'll take a glass."

"Picked it up a few weeks ago, but it's no fun drinking alone."

Harry grabbed a couple of glass cups that he had sneaked from the kitchen after dinner off of the dresser. He had decided earlier in the day to feel out Ron about possibly joining up with him. He was reluctant at first, knowing his best mate's volatile temper and fanatical hatred of dark wizards. Hence the Calming Draught. Mixed with the alcohol, it would hopefully mellow him out a little bit, so Harry could get an actual measure of where he stood. Here goes nothing, he thought, slipping a relatively strong sample of the stuff into Ron's drink before turning and handing it to him.

"Cheers, mate."

Ron downed his glass quickly, and asked for the bottle. Harry passed it over to him and the redhead refilled his glass.

"Hey, Ron. Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"What do you think about the way Dumbledore's running this war?"

"Why are you asking me, mate?"

"I dunno. You're the best chess player I know, and you've memorized pretty much every Quidditch tactic in the book. I figure you would know how to manage an army, how to pitch and run a battle. Hermione told me this morning about how the Death Eater attacks are getting more and more frequent, and more people are getting killed. They're getting bolder, coming out into the open, and the Order never manages to catch any of them. I mean, it's not like they have better wizards than us. Hell, most of their best are still in Azkaban from the botched Ministry raid. So, tell me, what gives?"

Harry could see Ron puff up slightly with pride. Starting off by appealing to the often neglected boy's ego was a prudent move. Harry didn't really need Ron's input on the subject at all, as he had already come to his own conclusions, but the youngest male Weasley didn't have to know that. Harry felt bad, at least as much as his dakaathi nature allowed, about having to manipulate his best mate like this, but he genuinely wanted, perhaps needed, Ron on his side in this whole mess. Bill was a close friend and a trusted confidant, but he could never replace Ron, who was in many respects the brother that Harry had never had.

"Honestly, I think Dumbledore isn't fighting the war properly. I mean, the enemy comes out from the shadows, attacks, and disappears. All the Order does is react, mate. There's no way you can beat an enemy like that if you only fight defensively. You've got to find out where they gather and go after them, or lay ambushes and lure them in. As long as they're choosing the battlefields, we can't win. They're the ones fighting attrition. Dumbledore's a bloody great wizard, but he's no general."

Harry nodded, mostly to himself. At least he was willing to admit to Dumbledore's mismanagement of the war. Perhaps this wouldn't be the heated disaster that Harry had initially feared it would be.

"Have you ever tried to talk to somebody about it? I mean, what you're saying makes sense..."

"Why bother? The Order thinks we're a just bunch of useless kids. Didn't we stand in there and fight just like the rest of them at the Ministry? It doesn't matter to them. We're too young, we don't know what we're talking about. Right."

Bitterness, typical Ron, Harry thought. Some things never change.

"So, what about the Ministry? Do you think the professional aurors are any better?"

Ron gulped down another glass of firewhiskey. Harry had barely finished his first.

"Nah, Fudge is an idiot. Dumbledore may not entirely know what he's doing, but at least he doesn't get his own people killed. Put Fudge in charge, and we'd just get slaughtered. Besides, the Ministry's too afraid of losing popular support by really prosecuting a war. Fudge is perfectly happy letting people just read about the attacks in the papers, and once they're dead, they can't vote him out of office anyway."

Sufficiently convinced of his friend's misgivings about the entire war situation, Harry decided to make his initial power play.

"Too bad there isn't another alternative..."

Ron looked over at Harry.

"What are you getting at, mate?"

Harry slipped off his robe and sat down on the bed, stretching his wings slightly before wrapping them against his body.

"Figured it out, Ron? Let me tell you what I've really been up to this past month..."

And so, Harry explained everything to Ron. About his dakaathi heritage, the truth about his great-grandfather, the Shinn Kohaku, his acceptance of Grindelwald's legacy, his various sexual exploits, his learning to master the Dark Arts. Of course, Harry was prepared to modify his memory if things went poorly, but he wasn't all that worried about the possibility. Harry confided his entire story in his best mate, who looked more and more torn as he continued to listen. Harry understood, knowing that the entire idea of him being truly against Dumbledore was no doubt a cataclysmic shock to Ron.

"...And I need your help to do it, mate."

The look on Ron's face told Harry that the redhead thought that he had finally lost his marbles.

"Wait a minute, Harry. You say you need my help to fight against Dumbledore and take over the bloody world? Are you out of your mind?"

Harry just looked at him, the mysterious smile from earlier, the very same one that he had picked up from an entire month of observing Hitomi, on his face.

"Out of my mind? Well, let's hope not. But seriously, Ron, think about it for a minute. Voldemort's nothing but a terrorist, and a hypocrite as well. He claims to be fighting for blood supremacy, but he's not a pureblood himself. So what is he really fighting for? Nothing, that's what. He fights only to maim and kill. He's a monster, incapable of leading this world. Then we have the Ministry of Magic, centuries of corruption. Look at your own father. A good man held down by political intrigues, while scum like Fudge and Umbridge drive our society into ruin. Look at your brother Percy. A traitor to his own family, but in a high position in the Ministry as a direct result of it. Need I say anything more? And finally, we have Dumbledore. You pretty much admitted it yourself, he doesn't have what it takes to protect our world anymore. He's completely mismanaged one war, which we only won by virtue of a freak accident, and now he's doing the same with another. I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place, mate, but what has he really done to stop this downward spiral that our world is on?"

Ron couldn't say a word, and just continued to listen.

"Face the facts, Ron, our society is sick and dying. People like Voldemort, and Malfoy, and Bellatrix...they're only the symptoms. The actual disease lies far deeper, in the very corrupt and decadent conditions that spawned them. It's like a cancer, growing and spreading and sucking the very life out of everything that we hold dear. I'm going to take up the sword and hack it all out, mate. People seem to look to me to save our world, and Merlin help me, I'm going to do it. But I can't do it alone. You've always stood by me before, Ron. I'm asking you to do it now. I need a general, somebody that can help me manage the resources that I have. Will you help me?"

Ron stayed silent for several minutes. Harry could see conflicting thoughts and emotions tearing rapidly through his cobalt eyes. Still, his facial expression betrayed an increasingly hard determination building in the youngest male Weasley, as his infamous temper began to likewise boil up in righteous fury, even through the sedative effects of the firewhiskey and potion. Harry unconsciously gripped his wand tighter, preparing for the worst. He was most pleasantly surprised.

"I'll do it. Bloody Hell, Harry, I'm half convinced that you're completely barmy, but I'll do it."

Quite the coup, Harry thought, winning over perhaps the most vehement dark wizard hater this side of the late Bartemius Crouch. Ron, aside from being somebody that Harry really didn't want to have to fight against, would prove useful. He wasn't particularly intelligent in the traditional sense, but had a brilliant mind for tactical dispositions, a savant if there ever was one. He was likewise a far cry from being a magically powerful wizard, but he had an inherent fanaticism and a willingness to do the dirtiest work that combined to potentially make him extremely dangerous when properly provoked. He would make for a perfect deputy. Harry smiled genuinely, for the first time since being with Hitomi.

"I knew I was making the right choice in trusting you, mate."

"What about the others, Harry? Hermione, I mean, and my other brothers and Ginny? Are you going to tell them about all this?"

"Yeah, eventually, but I wanted to let you know first. Get some sleep, Ron. We'll talk more tomorrow. I want to get your input on some ideas I have."

"Right. G'night, Harry."

Harry nodded and left for an empty room across the hall, leaving Ron to ponder exactly what he had just committed himself to.

(End Chapter Nine)

Author's Note: Well, next chapter's done. One more at Grimmauld Place, and we're on the Hogwarts Express in Chapter Eleven. As you can see, I've decided to place Ron on Harry's side. I just don't buy into the whole jealous prat thing, sorry. Yeah, Ron had a low point in Goblet of Fire, but I think he more than redeemed himself in Order of the Phoenix. Besides, he serves a purpose for me. I need Harry to have somebody constantly around who is good at looking at things from a logistic and tactical perspective, and who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty. Ron's not a great or powerful wizard, but he makes for a good enforcer. I'm inclined to place Ginny in Harry's camp also, but we'll see next chapter.