Chapter 22

Harry opened his eyes. His head was pounding as he sat up to look at the clock; it was late morning. He laid back down as disjointed and hazy memories came to him from yesterday. He glanced over at the pieces of parchment scattered on the floor near his bed. They were attempts he had made to distract himself after his talk with Dumbledore, but he couldn't remember what he had done after?

Harry sat up like a rocket. Memories of last night hit him like the killing curse...Daphne had...no, he had... they had kissed! Had he started it? His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. What had he done? Nothing like that had ever happened to him before.

"Great going," Harry said to himself as he threw his head into his palms.

How could he be so reckless? As he continued to think carefully, he was sure something had been said about being the Chosen One, but he couldn't remember what exactly had been said about it.

"Fuck." He said as he slammed his body down against the bed. As he did, there was a pop in his room. He looked up to see Kreacher approach him cautiously.

"Master has been requested by Dumbledore in the meeting room." Kreacher said.

"Thanks." Harry replied as he got up. For now, Daphne would have to wait. He had to trade his worry for something bigger. The decision on who would lead the Order. Harry quickly got dressed, before rushing downstairs and into the kitchen. He could remember hazy visions and scattered thoughts about being in the kitchen the night before, but it looked entirely different than anything he had seen last night. For starters, there were several trays of food and drink all displayed very elegantly across the counter, but the place overall looked sparkling clean.

"Oh, hello, Harry."

Harry turned to see Mrs. Weasley, who was setting another tray down on the counter.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley." Harry said stiffly, "This looks... good."

"Yes, I try. When I arrived, it was, of course, a mess." Mrs. Weasley replied with a wavering smile as she straightened a nearby glass. "I figured everyone could do with some treats during this meeting. Please help yourself."

Harry gave an appreciative nod before entering the next room, where people had already begun to gather around their respective seats against the wooden table. Aberforth, in particular, eyed Harry quickly before turning his head away like he was avoiding a basilisk. Dumbledore stood against the wall, chatting with a bearded man in patchy clothes.

"Welcome back, Lupin." Harry said as he approached the two.

Lupin smiled as Harry approached, "Harry, It's been almost a year. My how you've grown!"

"A lot has happened since the last time I've seen you.".

Lupin's smile died, "So I've heard." Lupin eyes darted between Harry and Dumbledore, "I hope that I can be more of a help now that I'm back."

"I know that you will," Dumbledore said as he sat his hand on Lupin's shoulder. "For now, we better take our seats as we have quite the agenda ahead of us."

Harry took a deep breath as he turned to take a seat. Everyone at this point had made it into the room and everyone seemed to be in better spirits than the last time he had been in the room.

Dumbledore sat everyone down as he tapped his wand against the wooden table, turning off the light of the engraved phoenix.

"Before we begin, I think it would be most appropriate to talk about the security concerns of our headquarters," Dumbledore said as he took a look around the room, his gaze commanding attention. "As you may or may not know, Harry led an unsanctioned rescue mission to save Astoria Greengrass from being killed by an Elite Member. Astoria is safe, along with her sister, and they both have been given refuge here for now as I've deemed appropriate, but I will not make the final decision here. That belongs to the next leader of the Order, and we will decide that now. "

Harry found himself giving a cursory glance toward Shacklebolt. Shacklebolt sat across from him, and his posture was also commanding and stoic. Harry sat up against his chair backing. He would have to be careful in the coming moments.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt and Harry Potter stand before us as possible successors of the Order of the Phoenix." Dumbledore said. "The case will be made for each then they will leave, and we will vote. Kingsley, you have the table."

"While I mean no disrespect to you, Harry," Shacklebolt said eagerly. "How can we trust in someone whose judgement has proved to be reckless, whose skills have not been assessed, and who is still a schoolboy, not even newt-tested. Tell me, is that someone who can lead us against the threat of the Dark Lord?"

Harry clenched his jaw as he listened carefully.

"Is this not the same situation as this summer? Harry rushes off without any approval but his own? How many good allies did we lose? Have we not read the Daily Prophet of Harry's reckless behavior? Whether or not Harry saved this girl's life does not absolve the fact that he did this without the wisdom or guidance of anyone here. We don't know whether these girls are working on behalf of the Dark Lord or not, but now we don't get the chance to know." Shacklebolt said. "It's been decided for us. He risked the safety of our headquarters and therefore our lives. If that doesn't show a pattern of recklessness and haste then I'm not sure what does."

The room was silent, but Harry saw a few nods of agreements, but he found it hard to look at anyone in particular.

"Shacklebolt, I think...that's a bit harsh," Lupin said awkwardly. "Clearly, Harry expressed deep sorrow about the wedding massacre."

"Sorrow. Sorrow does not bring back the allies we lost. Sorrow doesn't bring back the fact that he played perfectly in the hands of the Dark Lord. Sorrow does not absolve that he disobeyed direct orders from Dumbledore." Kingsley replied coldly. He gestured to Arthur Weasley, who jumped slightly at the unexpected motion, "Arthur can attest with certainty that Harry's sorrow has done nothing to fix the crumbling of the Ministry that his-"

"-You're right, Shacklebolt," Harry interrupted, as his eyes found Shacklebolt's from across the table, "My sorrow can't fix the mistakes I've made, but none of you were there when I had to make them. I didn't-I couldn't have known what would have happened. No one could have."

Harry took a deep breath as he slammed his fist against the table. He felt a familiar numbness as he continued, "I wasn't thinking about how it was an easy trap. I wasn't thinking how a pardon would divide the ministry. All I knew was that If I had waited, they would have died. I had to save them. I had to stop him."

Shacklebolt nodded, his tone somber, "I, along, with most in the room are familiar with your grief, Harry. We made choices in the first war that haunt us even now, but the difference is that we understand that in any war, there's the test of the greater good. This is the hardest part of any war, and something you have no understanding of yet. We can't fight believing in the fantasy of saving every single individual, every piece must be considered with regards to the whole."

"And maybe that's the wrong way to fight," Charlie replied. "While I have my disagreements with Harry, this is not one. I would rather die attempting to protect others than die knowing I did nothing."

Aberforth grumbled, "A dead man knows nothing, boy."

"Yet the living do." Charlie snapped. "And I know that Harry has a good heart. No one rushes into a suicide mission unless they do. No one watches people die like that and still resolves to help others knowing it might put their life at risk."

"A good heart doesn't win wars, Charlie." Shacklebolt replied.

"Neither do words." Severus drawled. "Experience is seen, not heard, Kingsley. Might I suggest that a duel between you both might lay all bare, and avoid wasting more of our time. "

"The first time I've ever agreed with a death eater," Aberforth sneered.

Kingsley nodded, "I agree to a non formal duel to decide who will lead the Order."

Severus' voice rang out, "Do you accept the terms of this duel, Harry."

Harry found the narrowed eyes of Shacklebolt. He would show Shacklebolt who was inexperienced, "I do."

Dumbledore interjected, "Then let magic reveal all truths."

"He's lying. Don't trust him."

Draco wasn't sure when the voice had become so distinct in his head. Maybe it had always been there, but for now, Draco noticed just how clearly he could hear it now. Although Pansy had never mentioned a voice, Draco didn't mind it. He had never felt so free and powerful in his entire life.

Just months ago, he would have never thought to stand in his Father's private office. Yet here he was standing in front of his pale and ragged faced father. The Head of the Malfoy house.

"You dare brandish a wand against your own father?" His father said.

"I brandish it against anyone who would sell out their family. Why did you do it?"

His father laughed,, "What foolishness have you been learning from the blood traitors you've been around."

"Make him understand."

"Crucio," Draco said as his father crashed into the ground in pure agony, screaming and writhing as Draco held the spell. His father's writhing brought with it piles of books thrown on top of him from his bookshelf. The sight was strange to Draco, but there was some part of him that felt...joy from what he was witnessing.

Draco relinquished the spell as his father cried out pain, squirming against the office floor, causing even more dishevel amongst the structure of his office. He was thankful the voice had made him take precautions like putting up silencing charms around the room before entering, and waiting until his mother had left for Diagon Alley.

"Bring him to fear."

Draco brought his foot against his father's neck, pressing down just hard enough to hear his father gasp for air.

"Things are different now, Father. I will tolerate no disobedience. For all it's worth, I stand as the new head of the Malfoy House, and you a servant."

His father flailed his arms as he attempted to free himself from Draco's foot. Draco could only stare at as his father continued to choke. It felt weird how much this should have bothered him, but it didn't. Finally, he relented as his father gasped desperately for air.

Draco bent down and looked his father in his bloodshot eyes.

"Tell me now," Draco said.

His father's eyes averted his eyes as he managed to sit himself up, "I was told...to put you…" His father tried to clear his throat, but was unsuccessful, "Under the Imperius Curse... to capture Harry. I ha-"

His father had choked on his words, coughing as Draco watched him almost induce himself to vomit.

Finally his father finished, "I didn't have a choice."

"His words are true."

"Fair enough, "Draco replied, "But I will do no such thing."

Anger flashed across his father's cold and sweaty face, "Does family mean nothing to you? My life? Your mothers...everything we've built?"

"I want you to arrange a meeting with the Dark Lord," Draco said as he ignored his father, turning around to exit the office. "As the new Head of house, I would like to swear a new allegiance."

Although his father continued to plead, Draco had already left the office and continued to his own room. It all felt exhilarating, to be able to stand up to his father, outwitting anyone he needed to. Who knew that in watching Lavender Brown die, it would bring about his own life. A better one. He had never felt this much control, this much power, and this much joy.

As he approached a mirror, he could see the plan laid before him. No one would ever make him a pawn. He would be under the mercy of no one. Draco reached for the top of his head. Although there appeared to be nothing, his fingers curled around the warm blue crown that appeared as he lowered his hands.

The Diadem rattled in his hands as he looked at it carefully.

"With you, nothing will stop me."

A/N: Thanks to my beta Haphne24! As always, let me know what you think!