Summary: When Harry made up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, he had no idea it would include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, wandless magic, Azkaban, unimaginable power, his own army, and… a secret identity?
Disclaimer: I own nothing, leave me alone.
BEWARE: Pathetic attempts to write Hagrid speaking are dead ahead.
"Harry," Remus said shaking his head, "You, are pathetic. Get off the floor. I'll go."
Chapter 9: Preparations
Stepping out into the sunny London atmosphere a little while later, Harry glanced over at the two adults accompanying him. While Remus looked nervous, Elaina seemed positively elated to be where she was. Harry couldn't blame her. It was a beautiful day, and it was fun to watch the hordes of people rushing from shop to shop or just hanging out with friends. He sighed softly, no one here knew about Voldemort. That was one thing they all had in common, whether they were giggling teenage girls in bright sundresses, middle aged men in suits on their way to work, or a bunch of people clad all in black despite the heat. No one feared that everyone they ever loved was being targeted by an evil madman. No one here was going to save one of the closest things they had to a real family from a lifelong hell in some godforsaken portal. Harry shook his head to try and clear some of his thoughts, but it didn't help one bit. Killing brain cells wasn't going to do any good.
"Wow," Elaina said excitedly from his right. "This is so neat!"
Lupin raised an eyebrow from Harry's left, "And what, is so intriguing?"
Elaina shrugged, "I've never been in Muggle London before. I grew up in England but I've never been to a big city like this that isn't inhabited purely by high-ranking wizards."
Harry looked between the two again. He remembered what Ginny had said about Lupin sometimes not having a home. He'd probably had to camp out in Muggle London once or twice. And Elaina had obviously grown up in England so sheltered she'd never been anywhere normal. It was no wonder Remus didn't have any hope for anything but a mutual friendship between him and Elaina, whether he liked her, or not. They seemed as if they were both from totally different worlds.
"So where are you from exactly?" Remus asked Elaina. "I can't quite place your accent. At first I thought it was British, but it sounds sort of different. You did mention the colonies but I think I caught a bit of a French accent in your voice as well."
"You certainly have good ears," was the response as they crossed a busy street, Elaina's eyes traveling everywhere. "My heritage is French, and all my family speaks it. My family is influential in France. But I had an English nanny and when I was three my family moved here for business reasons. When I was eleven I went to school in the Americas. I kept moving from Mexico to Canada then back to my relatives in the States faster then You-Know-Who can blink. I was sixteen when You-Know-Who was defeated. I finished school, and for the next eight years I spent my time studying Wizarding Law and training to be an Auror. My family is good friends with Dumbledore so I knew You-Know-Who was coming back, and I wanted to be ready. I've been traveling around the world ever since, getting mixed up in the politics of various nations. But I've always been under some supervision, until now. I'M LOOSE ON THE WORLD, BABY!"
Quite a few Muggles turned to stare at her.
"What kind of supervision?" Harry wanted to know.
"My Grand-mère," she made a face, "I've just managed to convince her that I'm old enough to get along without bodyguards. I'm thirty, for God's sake! Although, I did manage to lose a couple of bodyguards in Monaco once. And I lost this pair in Mexico City for three days because of the crowds and this one three star hotel, which is the last place they'd think to look for me. I'd never stayed in a three star hotel before, it was fun!" She smiled as she relayed her adventure, her eyes sparkling at the memories. "I was able to take perfect care of myself. These guys tried to rob me and I totally kicked their sorry asses, I didn't even use magic! Of course, I had to get back to work at the Mexican Wizarding Government Building, so they found me eventually. Of course, it's nothing compared to your adventures. You two are both so brave fighting You-Know-Who and all."
Harry turned slightly red but Remus blushed to the roots of his tawny-colored hair. Before either of them could start making excuses about why everything they ever did was no more adventurous and courageous then giving a circus clown the middle finger, Elaina interrupted.
'Ooh! Look at that restaurant!"
Harry looked around for the cause to her excitement. He didn't see anything very interesting. Just a couple of novelty shops and some cheep-o fast food joints.
"Um, what restaurant?"
"That one, right there, with the golden arches. People are eating outside, with their hands, in public! Let's do that!"
"What, McDonald's?
"So, that's what it's called! I've seen these places all over the world."
"Figures," Remus laughed, "Large corporations like these can never seem to take the pressure of not having a store or restaurant of their's in every city on earth."
Sitting at an outdoor table painted in garish shades of red and yellow, Harry found he was mostly left out of the conversation. Not that he minded at all, it was kind of fun to just sit and listen to them talk. Lupin had clandestinely put a silencing charm around their table and he and Elaina had delved into a wild array of stories about their adventures, from handling a congressman with a lack of compassion to hunting down Death Eaters with no compassion at all. It seemed that Lupin also had an interest in politics.
"My parents would always say I was a born intellectual, but I was born at the wrong place at the wrong time. I always did seem to end up there," he grimaced. "My mum was a Muggle, Father was a wizard. My father wasn't pureblood though, so some at the Ministry weren't very welcoming towards him. My parents always wanted to send me off to a wizarding college of some sort. But my condition made that notion impossible. It was a miracle I even got into Hogwarts. I always wanted to do something great, get into the Ministry and such. But I love teaching as well and I count myself very lucky to have been a professor at Hogwarts. I even got to teach my favorite subject. I've actually been writing a book on Defense Against the Dark Arts, but it will never get accepted by any publisher in their right mind. Even if I didn't have lycanthropy, the section on werewolves would never be believed, and by no means bought."
"I'd like to read your book someday," Elaina said. "I wish I could help get it published, but my name and small fortune only get me so far. Grand-mère has all the influence in the family until she decides to retire and hand over the family wealth to a younger generation. So Harry," Harry gave a little start at being addressed so suddenly and dropped one of the overly salty chips onto his lap, "Apparently you have quite a few stories to tell as well."
Harry shrugged, "I have had quite a few experiences. There was the Philosopher's Stone in my first year. First time I ever met Voldemort, or at least remember meeting him. In my second year there was the whole Chamber of Secrets crap that was going on and I met Voldemort again, only he was like sixteen and had this really annoying pet basilisk. It turned Hermione to stone; Ron and I were so freaked out. And do you know how long it took us to finish our homework without her? And in my third year, well, I met Sirius then, which was great. But everyone thought he was out to murder me and he ended up getting captured and Hermione and I broke about a zillion laws rescuing him. And don't even get me started on fourth year. The Triwizard Tournament was a complete disaster. And Voldemort naked is not something you would want to see, trust me. It was even worse then being tied to some bloody tombstone. And the Cruciatus Curse! But this last year was the worst, just sitting there not learning a thing in Umbitch's classes while Voldemort was on the loose and the Ministry ignored everything as they tried to demerit me and Dumbledore. And then there was the whole incident with the Department of Mysteries… I mean, why me? Sorry… I'm rambling…" Harry had to stop himself and take a deep breath.
"Holy crap,' Elaina breathed her eyes wide, "And I thought the stuff in that unauthorized biography about you was wild. But this…"
"What is this about a basilisk and meeting Voldemort in your first year?" Lupin interrupted, "Dumbledore told me a little bit and I just suspected you'd had a run in with Quirrell who ended up being a Death Eater and somehow informed Dumbledore of your suspicions that he was trying to steal the stone. And didn't you discover the Chamber of Secrets and nothing else? You have a lot of explaining to do Harry. How is it you could even see Voldemort if he had no body."
"Um… because he possessed Quirrell's body and his head was in the back of Quirrell's. Ugly as sin it was too."
Lupins grip became so tight; he started crushing the ice in his cup, "You really have a lot of explaining to do."
"Can't you just ask Dumbledore?"
"I'd rather hear it from you," Lupin responded, "But you don't have to say anything now." Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "You can wait until Sirius is back so you can explain it to both of us."
Harry felt his mouth drop open.
"What? Hell no, he'll go totally nutters!"
"We will speak of this later," Lupin sighed.
"Yeah, OK." Harry said, not really wanting to get mad at his favorite ex-professor, and turning towards Elaina. "So, why don't we discuss this unauthorized biography that has been floating around without my knowledge…"
As he and Remus entered Grimmauld place (Elaina had to head back to the Ministry), it took a few moments for Harry's eyes adjust to the dim quarters. After a couple seconds of seeing spots he was, once again, engulfed in a hug from Mrs. Weasley. After being pointed in the direction of Ron and Hermione, Harry found himself in the drawing room. It had changed since he'd last seen it. A decorative quilt covered the Black Family Tree and the walls had been painted a light shade of green.
"Oi, mate! What took you so long?" Ron asked from the chess set that had been set up on one side of the room.
Harry shrugged and flopped down on the couch. "Dumbledore had another job for Professor Lupin and me afterwards. Then Elaina invited us to lunch."
"So the mission went well then," Hermione grinned, "That's just wonderful Harry…"
"Checkmate."
"Not again!"
Harry's mouth twitched, "Getting your arse whipped by Ron again?" he asked her.
"Figures," Hermione replied. "Well, I'd better get started on homework. I usually have it half done by now."
Harry and Ron then proceeded to watch in disbelief as she grabbed her school bag and flopped on the floor with half a dozen books, a quill and ink, and about two meters of parchment.
"You're crazy," was all Ron had to say on the matter as he joined Harry on the couch and began throwing and catching a small ball with one hand.
"Harry! You're back!" Ginny bounded into the room, "I saw Professor Lupin and wondered where you were. I heard everything went really good, and that you did wicked awesome at everything. I want to hear all about it."
Apparently Ron and Hermione wanted to hear about it too, as no one stopped bugging him until he'd given every detail he could without breaking the contract. Everyone had burst into gales of laughter on hearing about Umbridge's ridiculous chart. Especially on learning they were included in it. Hermione, in particular, seemed to be pleased about that. He also ended up telling them about Elaina and the lunch.
"She went to a school in the colonies?" Hermione seemed quite excited about it. "I wonder which one. I read all about wizarding schools from all over the world in fourth year."
"You've already met people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, why do you need to learn more about other schools?" Ron asked exasperatedly.
Hermione looked annoyed as she raised her head from her paper, "Because schools in other continents happen to be different from each other Ronald. There is one school in every portion of the States, according to Great Educational Institutes of the Wizarding World. Do you think she went to the Salem Academy, located on the east coast? Or perhaps the Pocus Institute in the Rocky Mountains? Or Jefferson… is anyone even listening to me?"
"Huh?"
Harry and Ginny snickered as Hermione shot a glare at Ron.
"Maybe if you stopped playing with that silly little ball…"
"I'm honing my Quidditch skills! This is coordination I'm practicing here…"
Luckily, Harry and Ginny were saved another argument when Professor Lupin walked in. He looked tired and stressed, but happy. Very, very happy.
"Hello there. Oh, have you been playing chess?"
Ron shrugged, "Yeah, kind of. Hermione was playing me a while ago." He grinned triumphantly at her, "I won."
Lupin laughed as Hermione stuck out her tongue at Ron, "How are you at the game?"
"I'm OK," Ron replied grinning mischievously, "and you?"
"Fair, I suppose," Remus said giving a grin that matched Ron's in impishness.
"Want to play?"
"I've nothing to lose."
An hour later while Remus and Ron were still dueling over the same game of chess, Elaina showed up, along with Bill and Charlie, to inform them all that another Order meeting was to be held that night.
"Remind me never to play chess with either of you." Elaina joked another two hours later.
All games previously had lasted long and ended in draws. They were now on their third game, and both were determined to win. Harry went back to thinking about Sirius. Would he survive much longer? Would this Aberforth have the rope? What if Fudge did something to stop them? What would happen if…
"CHECKMATE!"
Harry looked up to see Ron jumping up and down in elation.
Lupin looked positively baffled, "I have never been beaten at chess before," he said looking down at the board. "You play a good game, Ron!"
All of a sudden the door swung open to reveal the one and only Albus Dumbledore who, as usual, started speaking before the words 'What the hell, don't you ever knock?' could be uttered or even thought.
"The meeting is about to begin. Let us proceed to the basement."
Harry was all too jittery. He was going to do something important, and Dumbledore was going to let him. Sure he'd have supervision, but still...
Everyone was soon heading through the door. The Weasley's getting into a usual sibling shuffle and all trying to exit the room at once. Harry eyed the walls of the eroding mansion. It was improving. Yet the foreboding sense of the fates of all who once lived there would not leave. He twitched instinctively at a creaky floorboard from above. Damned Muggle ghost stories. It was probably just Kreacher pacing around the attic. According to Ron, he'd been avoiding everyone. Yet every morning it was obvious that someone had been trying (and sometimes succeeding) to tear down the quilt in front of the Black Family Tree.
Treading quietly through the front hall and down the basement stairs, Harry saw many more faces in the milling crowd of Order members then he'd met last night, or ever. Men and women of mixed nationalities mingled in the room, attired in many types of robes. The original old English tradition of wearing black robes seemed entirely obsolete in other countries. Harry doubted it would last much longer in England. Tonks never seemed adaptable to any color that wasn't florescent.
But they were all the same, in a way. Harry smiled silently to himself, feeling much better then he had in Muggle London. Everyone here was fighting for the same thing, an end to the Dark Lord. And there were about a hundred and fifty of them. It was then that Harry realized why the meetings were always held in the basement. It was obviously expanding. He looked around at a young Japanese couple, the woman exasperatedly rolling her eyes at the man, and some young Russian guy hitting on Tonks who had enlarged her bosom to a size that looked much too large for her small frame. Meanwhile, Charlie scowled at her next to a Romanian he was most likely complaining to about the opposite sex. And all around people laughed and joked with each other, trying to forget for a moment about Voldemort. Oh yes, they were most certainly the same in many, many ways. And abruptly, Harry felt more at home among these strangers then he ever had at the Dursley's.
Hagrid was among those gathered and came rushing up to grab the trio and Ginny into an enormous hug.
"'Arry, Ron, 'Ermione, Ginny!" he exclaimed joyously as he let them all down. "It's so good ter see yer all! Isn't this just fine? Sirius is coming back ter us all."
"I know!" Harry replied, "You seem to be in a particularly good mood today. Madam Maxime isn't around anywhere, is she?"
"Olympe is right 'oer there," Hagrid pointed to the graceful half-giant, "I think she's run otta punch. S'cuse me while I go refill 'er cuppa."
"No wonder," Ron whispered to Harry, "Look how small that cup is compared to her!"
Giving his friend a covert smile, Harry sat down at the long table that was currently enchanted to seat however many were in the room. Soon, others were taking there seats as well. Tonks ended up being caught off balance by her chest and crashed into the table as she set down. Harry looked over at the man sitting across from him, a strange bloke, the hood of his cloak pulled up so far you couldn't see his face.
"Welcome all," Dumbledore began, "To this very important meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. The meeting is now in session. Mr. Snape, would you care to start us out on what Voldemort is up to?"
It wasn't really a question, but a demand.
"The Dark Lord claims to have gotten a new lead on the Book. I do not believe, however, that he knows how to use this new lead. He has asked all Death Eaters to keep a low profile. As you all know, the Ministry is trying to downplay the enemy, giving the message to the public that the forces are not as strong as they once were. The Dark Lord wishes this to continue. This must be stopped, underestimating the enemy is the worst thing one can do. A women was murdered today, a Muggleborn shopkeeper. The government will try to cover this up; we must make sure this is covered in all the papers. I also have reason to accept as true the suspicion that the Dark Lord is making something, and a lot of it. But very few have access to that knowledge."
Dumbledore nodded, "You have done well, Severus. In what condition is the murdered woman?"
"Not good. She was found by some Aurors but her family hasn't been informed yet. She took a hard hit on her head. Skull's got a 20 centimeter crack in it. Half her arm is missing skin on it. Apparently the attackers were attempting to skin her alive but ran off and put her out of her misery early."
Hermione looked like she was going to vomit; Ron and Ginny had gone pale. Harry felt his stomach churn as well. He also felt a new rush of guilt. His blood, it had been his blood…
Dumbledore sighed, "We shall discuss the victim later. As well as what has been going on with Voldemort. Severus, you will repeat everything you've heard while on duty. But first we must take care of other matters. Tomorrow as I'm sure you've all figured out by now, Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin, and I shall enter the Veil in the Department of Mysteries to retrieve a member. Harry, have you been preparing for this?"
As all eyes turned on him, Harry didn't feel as 'at home' as he had moments before, "I've been studying over the summer and my backpack is ready. Do I need anything else?"
"No, Mr. Potter, I believe you are prepared enough. I have talked with Aberforth and he will meet us at the Ministry at ten o'clock tomorrow. He will have the rope with him. According to James Potter, we must follow our hearts. I suppose we will find out what that means upon entering. Now about the problem with Fudge… Percy, would you care to enlighten us?"
Harry snapped his head up to the man across the table who nervously lowered his hood, and looked into the face of Percy Weasley. Percy didn't stop to acknowledge anyone in the room, just started talking, words gushing from him. And at the end, he looked up.
"And that's all I know."
Percy looked pleadingly around the room at the faces staring incredulously at him as if willing them to smile. Or anything. His mum was, Harry noted, but all the rest of the Weasley's remained stony faced. Glancing from Percy to his family, Harry's thoughts were once again interrupted by Dumbledore who passed him a Muggle dry erase board.
"Now Harry, you are to write on this. Do not speak one word until I tell you. Don't worry, I'm doing it too."
Harry tried very hard to ignore the fact that Dumbledore's board was 2 by 3 meters while his was much smaller and the Headmaster's pen was writing by itself.
I discovered this in the Minister's office.
Harry almost gasped; it was the Playwizard Magazine. Everyone else just looked disgusted, but Harry knew better. If the Headmaster had gotten suspicious too, it must mean… Harry started to open his mouth but remembering the contract, grabbed the dry erase board and wrote:
How did you get that?
He held up the sign, but Dumbledore ignored him and just kept on talking… or, well… writing.
The magazine is cursed, I'm sure of it. I noticed the Minister acted quite suspicious when it was mentioned. I assume he chose this particular magazine for the scandalous contents to keep others out of it. When read by anyone but him, it appears an average July issue. However, after some experiments, it was revealed to have information written in it that is most likely extremely important to Mr. Fudge. I'm not sure how long it will take to unravel this important piece of evidence to the Minister's actions, if it can be unraveled at all, but it will become critical to try. Megumi, you have access to the department of Mysteries in Japan, can you try some experiments on this to see what you can find?
♦
La revista es…
Dumbledore's pen then began writing the exact same thing in a plethora of different languages as the room started to buzz excitedly. Resolving himself to the fact he was just going to be ignored, Harry erased his board. Harry sighed.
"Dumbledore was the one who had discovered the magazine? He wouldn't have even noticed the damn thing if I had mentioned it," Harry thought glumly, "The man never gives me credit for anything anymore. I'm his puppet, his big pathetic puppet that saved his friggin' job in second year because he couldn't handle a stupid little snake…"
Harry knew he was being unfair but he couldn't help it. Not to mention the basilisk had been anything but 'little.' He distracted himself by listening to the meeting progress.
After more speculation on the Playwizard, the main topic for the meeting went elsewhere. From those who could afford to accompany them to the Department of Mysteries the next day, to reports on the workings of the French, Spanish, Romanian, Chinese, Japanese, American, and about twenty more different Ministries. All reports on Death Eater suspects and sightings were also being reviewed. Harry soon became absorbed in the meeting, as did Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Ron seemed particularly interested in the plans for different military strategies in case of surprise Death Eater attacks. Hermione got most into the search for the book and the different magical experiments that could be done to find new information on anything and everything. Ginny appeared drawn to different kinds of spells and weaponry being invented on both the light and dark sides. Harry got completely immersed in everything.
This, he knew, was where he belonged. He may not be saying anything or doing much, but he felt a part of it. And he had a strange desire to take over the meeting himself. Forget Dumbledore, he could just see himself running an organization like this. But deep down, Harry knew he was not ready to manage anything of this capacity. And he probably couldn't take on anything without Dumbledore there to guide him. His powers were strong, but nowhere near the gargantuan aptitude of other more powerful wizards. Even Mr. Weasley could overpower him easily, he was sure. How he was still alive, Harry had no idea. He supposed it was luck, pure luck (and maybe a bit of wandless magic) that had gotten him through.
But he would soon learn he was wrong in many of those aspects.
Harry's thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Weasley who tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He glanced at the clock then back at her warm face, which, he realized for the first time, seemed to have lost a lot of its roundness, and looked more tired and drawn than ever.
"Has this meeting really been going on for two and a half hours?" he wondered.
The assembly was winding down now. The final details were being recounted and everyone was being interviewed and questioned in case any hints of anything were missed. Mundungus was asleep and Harry also found a little respect for Snape, only a little. But if Harry had a choice, he supposed he'd prefer to not feed his Potions Master to a starving thestral.
Molly handed Ron a large paper bag and shooed the teenagers upstairs. With one last longing look towards the ending conference, Harry relented. The trip up to Harry and Ron's room seemed to take a lot less time then it had then those two and a half hours before walking downstairs from the drawing room. Harry's mind was wheeling faster then it had been all day. As he and his friends once again flopped down onto the bed, they all sat in silence for a moment.
"Wow," Hermione finally managed to say.
And as Ron just nodded and opened the grocery bag which was full of food courtesy of Mrs. Weasley, Harry decided he couldn't agree more.
Yet another hour had passed and Harry found himself staring at the sky. It was streaked with so many colors. Pink and purple, blue and just a hint of gold. Those colors reflected off the windows of dozens of buildings that shone in the distance. London truly was a beautiful place. And the sky was such a beautiful thing. How was Sirius? How did he live without sight of the sky for so long?
Maybe, just maybe, he would end up a free man, and see a sky like this again. And maybe Dumbledore would tell Harry he never had to go to the Dursley's again, and he could live here, with Sirius, and Lupin could move in permanently. They'd fix the place up even more, and Harry could have his own room. They'd turn the musty old place into a home. All the Order members could come over for breakfast whenever they wanted. He could make breakfast for everyone and maybe Sirius would hug him like Mrs. Weasley had. He kinda liked being praised like that, even if it was a bit hard to get used to. Then perhaps Voldemort would just drop dead and all expectations set on his shoulders would be whisked away and his scar could disappear and he'd be himself. Just Harry, no expectations, no Boy-Who-Lived crap hanging over his head, just Harry and nobody else…
"Harry? Harry!"
Harry was snapped out of his reverie by Ginny whose hand was now on his head checking his temperature after about a minute of waving a hand in front of his face to no affect. She was giving off such a perfect imitation of Mrs. Weasley, that Harry couldn't help the slow, upward motion of his mouth.
"And what," Ginny smiled back at him, relieved her friend hadn't gone comatose or something, "is so funny?"
"Nothing," Harry replied. "I was just thinking. It's going to be murder going to sleep tonight. I'm way too worked up."
"I know what you mean," Hermione replied, "It usually helps if I read though. Here, why don't I get a few books for you?"
Before anyone could say anything she was off, dashing out of the room to retrieve some of her precious books.
"Books?" Ron gasped incredulously. "I thought she was trying to help you relax!"
Harry laughed, "Well Ron, some people can get relaxed by reading. As long as they're not schoolbooks or anything, they can sometimes take you to an entirely different world. It's kind of nice sometimes."
Ron just shook his head as Hermione bounded back in with two paperback fantasies. Harry scanned the titles: The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien and The Eye of the World by Robert Jordan.
Ron laughed, "What are these? Some of those Muggle books about magic?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Both of these books, for your information, are pure genius! I would have brought you some of Agatha Christie's books, but I've already lent all the ones I brought over to Tonks. And Ginny's reading Pride and Prejudice right now so I just grabbed what was closest. Would you prefer I go …"
This time it was Harry's turn to laugh, "These are fine Hermione! I've already read Pride and Prejudice when I was, like, nine." At the disbelieving look on Ron's face he added, "It involves an extremely boring day, an overdue library book of Aunt Petunia's, and a hall closet." Harry refrained from mentioning that he had been locked in the hall closet (at least it had a light) with said library book for over twenty-four hours before Vernon let him out. "It REALLY wasn't my thing. Not to mention I read this boxed set of Hercule Poirot books Dudley got once, then ignored. Besides, I've already read The Hobbit, which was another book of Dudley's that he ignored. I've always wanted to read the other books Tolkien has written. I've never heard of this, Wheel of Time series, though."
Once again Harry refrained from mentioning something, like the fact he wasn't allowed to enter public places like libraries to actually get the books. Oh, well…
"Excellent!" Hermione squealed, "Harry, I had no idea you read so much! You can be reading buddies with Ginny and I now!"
Harry grinned mischievously at her, "No thanks, I think I'll stick with sane people."
There are certain times in one's life in which one laughs like a maniac for the stupidest reasons imaginable. For Ron and Harry, this, happened to be one of those times.
"Reading buddies!" they kept exclaiming again and again. "Woo-hoo! Nerds ahoy! Reading buddies!"
Ginny raised her eyebrow as Hermione sniffed, "We're the ones who aren't sane?"
It took another five minutes after the girls left to stop laughing. And when they finally did, they still had the occasional after effects in which they would burst out in hysterics if the room was silent for too long. After a while they got tired though. Harry started on The Fellowship of the Ring and Ron began reading a new magazine that had recently come out: Quidditch Quarterly.
Ron fell asleep a lot sooner then Harry did. Harry heaved a sigh; he wasn't going to drift off anytime soon. It was eleven o'clock and he had given up on both books. The characters were in situations way too similar to his. Forced into something because of fate or prophesy or whatever. Hermione didn't know that of course, but she might as well have given Sirius "Escape from Alcatraz" to watch, or the Count of Monte Cristo to read. Harry couldn't help chuckling at the thought of Lupin watching "My Life as a Teenage Werewolf", now that would be amusing. Dudley watched it during a sleepover one year and the bloody thing was so off it was all Harry could do to keep from cracking a rib laughing about it. Piers Polkiss had given him a look that clearly said 'you're mental', and Dudley had thrown a vase at him.
Thoughts of Lupin reminded him of the wolfsbane potion. Harry grabbed it out of his backpack and crept towards Lupin's room. He quietly opened the door to find his former professor sleeping so soundly he doubted a marching band could wake him. Harry slowly levitated the potion to the resting werewolf's nightstand before heading back to his room.
Harry lay on the bed for another half an hour, staring at the ceiling until turning his attention towards the candle on his bedside table. The flames could seem merry and dancing one moment, then dark and menacing at the next.
"Kind of like life," he figured.
Fire was a beautiful thing, with the power to create and comfort. Yet fire could also destroy. Humans seemed to be doing an awful lot of destroying lately. But in Harry's opinion, people were also playing with fire a lot recently. And if they weren't careful the entire world could be consumed in flame. And the existence of everything he held dear seemed to be teetering… burning, on the edge of a blade.
Harry blew out the candle.
"Will the human race be blown out by something greater than us all?" was the last thing Harry thought, before exhaustion finally overtook him, and he too, fell into a deep sleep.
Light
Reflects off the edge of the blade
I pray it means hope and salvation
But then
Darkness takes over the sword
Was that spark, my imagination?
Is there hope, for this world?
It teeters on the edge of a blade
Is there faith?
Left here
There's plenty of darkness
Yet no sign of shade
As I'm burning
Burning
Burning on the edge of a blade
Hate
Reflects from the eyes of men
And I pray it's not too late
But then
That light comes again to the blade
But it's gone in a flash
And I can't take this darkness anymore
Is there hope, for this world?
It teeters on the edge of a blade
Is there faith?
Left here
There's plenty of darkness
Yet no sign of shade
As I'm burning
Burning
Burning on the edge of a blade
My Life
Teeters on the edge of a blade
I'm engulfed
In flame
And I don't think I can keep my balance much longer
Is there hope, for this world?
It teeters on the edge of a blade
Is there faith?
Left here
There's plenty of darkness
Yet no sign of shade
As I'm burning
Burning
Burning on the edge of a blade
Light
Reflects off the edge of the blade
Harry awoke at eight the next morning to a triumphant, "I KNEW IT!" from Hermione.
Sitting up groggily, the reluctant Boy-Who-Lived looked around the room to see Hermione with a very pleased expression on her face. Ginny was cracking up with a supporting hand on the edge of his bed and Ron was turning as red as his hair.
"What?" Harry asked blearily.
Hermione turned towards him, "Ginny and I caught Ron red-handed with his nose in The Fellowship of the Ring. I knew no one could resist the amazing works of J.R.R. Tolkien!"
"It wasn't my fault," Ron whined. "I woke up at four in the morning to go to the bathroom and I just picked it up and scanned through it and… the bloody thing's addicting!"
His claim only made Ginny laugh more, and Harry found himself joining her.
"Are you going to be a reading buddy now Ron?" Harry asked through choked laughter.
Which, of course, made Ron start laughing as well, so when Mrs. Weasley entered the premises, she was yet again confronted with a bunch of red-faced teens.
"Breakfast time!" She called with a smiling face, "Percy spent the night, so he's here too; be nice, Ron. I've already had to confiscate those preposterous Weasley Wizards Wheezes from your brothers; I don't need my little prefect acting up as well."
As Mrs. Weasley left, Harry grinned at Ron, "Her 'little prefect'?"
But Ron wasn't smiling at all; in fact, he and Ginny had both gone stony faced.
"Oh, come on, you guys," Harry said. "He's not that bad! He just made a mistake and turned into a bit of a berk for a while."
"Oh, so giving information about Fudge is going to automatically make me forgive the bloody prat!"
"Just because he was being a wanker for a while doesn't mean you have to turn into one!"
"WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP?" Ginny bellowed.
It was surprising to hear such a loud sound coming out of such a petite girl. Harry had to blink a few times to make sure it was really Ginny who had uttered the words.
Said petite girl took a deep breath and continued, "Harry's right, Ron. He deserves a second chance!"
"He made mum cry, Ginny," Ron glared at her.
"I'm not daft Ronald; just give him a bloody chance!"
"KIDS! DO YOU WANT BREAKFAST OR NOT?" Tonks called from downstairs, "OH, BOLLOCKS!"
Mrs. Black's portrait had started going off at her yell.
"TONKS," Mrs. Weasley's voice could be heard shouting, "WHEN I SAID 'TELL THE KIDS TO GET DOWNSTAIRS FOR BREAKFAST' I MEANT ACTUALLY GO UPSTAIRS AND TELL THEM! NOT YELL AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS!"
Some scrambling could be heard and by the time the foursome reached the bottom of the stairs, Percy and Charlie were just managing to pull the curtain over the portrait.
"That was Black's mother?" Percy asked his brother in bewilderment.
Charlie just glared, "What's it to you, little bro? You haven't seemed to care very much about anyone's mum lately."
Harry watched as Percy dejectedly trudged after his older brother, his ears going pink like Ron's did sometimes. Harry and the gang followed them to the basement. Once downstairs, Ginny started giving everyone hugs just to annoy Ron.
"Morning Mum, morning Dad. Morning Bill, Charlie… Percy."
As she hugged Percy, Ron made an audible chocking noise. Percy looked just as surprised at being hugged by Ginny as anyone else in the room. Then, his little sister turned on him.
"DON'T EVER DO THAT TO US AGAIN!" she yelled at Percy, before slapping him on the face.
Harry scratched his head, he'd never really gotten to know Ginny very well since last year, but one thing was for sure: "Ginny Weasley is quite a character. Thank Merlin she got over that stupid obsession with me."
Harry looked around at the girls in the room. Girls. He doubted he'd ever find time to even think about women again. Not that he'd want to. Cho had made his life a disaster at the end of last year. But he supposed it had been partially his fault as well. No one would want to put up with their boyfriend having to defeat some bleeding Dark Lord. Harry shook his head to try and clear his mind. He really needed to knock it off with all the brooding.
Harry sat down at the table and started serving himself, when, not two minutes after he'd sat down, Lupin bounded into the room, a dubious expression on his face. One glance at his hand and Harry knew exactly what he was so shocked about. The Wolfsbane Potion.
"Who… how…" Remus stuttered, "How did this get on my nightstand?"
Mrs. Weasley's eye's widened, "I don't know dear! Did someone buy it for you?"
Lupin shook head in disbelief, "No, someone made it, I can tell. It's a perfectly good potion but how did it get in my room? No one would or could have made it for me, it's too difficult."
"That bloody potion sure was difficult," Harry thought as he scooped up some oatmeal before saying, "Don't look at Ron and me. We'd have blown up the house if we tried to make that."
Ron laughed and voiced his agreement. Harry tried to tell himself that he wasn't lying, he almost did blow up Privet Drive, and if Ron had been helping him he probably would have. Lupin was trying desperately to figure out who did it so he could find some way to pay them back. That was until Hermione pointed out that whoever made the potion probably didn't want to be paid back, and would feel a lot better if he'd just take the potion and shut up.
And so the day began, the day that would forever change the life of Harry James Potter, in more ways than one.
In many, many more ways than one.
At precisely ten o'clock that morning, Harry, for the third day in a row, found himself in the Ministry of Magic. This time, there was a crowd gathered outside the door of the Department of Mysteries. The Weasley's were there (claiming to the Ministry that they just wanted to support Harry) and Percy was there as well (claiming to the Ministry he was spying on the Order for them). Hermione was there also as were quite a few other members. Fudge was in attendance as well; at least he was keeping quiet. Apparently the Minister thought himself above conversing with blood traitors and lunatics. He really was spending way too much time with Umbridge. Harry glanced at a clock across the hall, wondering when Dumbledore would arrive so they could just get on with it.
Then, lo and behold, he arrived. With him was a very stringy looking old bloke with a long gray beard and a grungy look to him. He came across as oddly familiar…
"You're the barman from The Hogshead!" Hermione exclaimed.
Harry did a double take. It was the bartender from The Hogshead.
"Ah yes," the man answered, "Aberforth Dumbledore, at or not at your service depending on the time, place, and of course my own personal decision."
Harry remembered being reminded of someone when he last saw Aberforth, and now he knew why. The other Dumbledore brother's eyes may be a deep brown instead of blue, yet they twinkled like no tomorrow. Harry almost groaned, not another annoying old man to boss him around. And he seemed crazy to boot.
"Now," said Aberforth pulling a rope out of an old tattered bag that seemed to be growing mold (McGonagall sniffed), "This is what we need."
The rope, Harry noticed, was no ordinary rope at all. For one thing, it was gold and appeared to be glowing.
"Yes, yes," Aberforth continued at the awestruck looks on the faces of others, "Mananaconal, quite magical. Shiny too. Very shiny, yes. One of you must keep an eye out for something shiny, and when you find it, don't tell. Shiny things are valuable. Now stop acting like a bunch of Antarctic Conger Penguins and get moving."
"Ah, yes," the Headmaster replied, "We must get moving. Yet I wonder, what are Antarctic Conger Penguins?"
"How the hell would I know?" was Aberforth's only reply.
Ron gave Harry a look, "This guy's completely mental! You think he's on something?"
"Absobloodylutely," was all Harry could think to say at the moment.
Harry's lack of words wouldn't have mattered anyway, however, as some flustered Ministry officials and a couple of Aurors came running up.
"Minister Fudge," one of them exclaimed, "Something strange is happening. Some very complicated wand-magic has been detected in the atrium. And we think someone is sneaking around in the abandoned upper level. One of the men renovating it said he heard quite a few people clambering around. We think you need to come with us, perhaps you should come too Mr. Dumbledore, sir. We may need you."
Dumbledore nodded, "I shall come. Aberforth, why don't you join the others and get set up. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Time, place and personal decision in mind, I do believe I can be at your service Albus. Come now everyone. We mustn't keep young Mr. Black waiting. And beware of Madam Malkin at the end of next month. She shall have a nasty fuss about her shop, most likely her time of the month. Now where was I?"
Everyone could only stare at Aberforth. He had to be the oddest man alive the way he kept rambling on about the strangest things and giving pieces of advice that were completely vague and full of nonsense. (Why would you want to remember the words 'Accenium Delictiwingdom'? It wasn't even a spell). But it was better than walking in silence Harry supposed. He wondered what was going on in the upper level of the Ministry. Nothing Dumbledore couldn't handle, he was sure. He'd seen the bloke take on Voldemort himself and come out unharmed. When they reached the place of the veil, the stone benches running menacingly around the room, Harry looked at Aberforth expecting to be given orders.
"What are you looking at me like that for, Potter? You seem to be second to my brother in this mission-thing. Give some orders already!" Aberforth barked at him so suddenly Harry was afraid he'd fall over from shock.
Harry stared at him, "What?"
"Oh, come on Potter don't tell me you've never given orders before! Now tell everyone to tie that rope to something and set up camp, they might be here for a while."
"Um… tie the rope to something, something sturdy. And set up camp or whatever."
Aberforth sighed, "Such a natural talent, wasted because of too little practice. What has my brother been teaching you?"
Harry couldn't help but glare at the older man, "At least they did what I said."
Instead of chastising him as Harry expected, Aberforth grinned, "Excellent, you do contain some spunk, then. I have something for you, here."
Harry looked at what Aberforth was handing him. It was an ordinary paper bag. The small kind kids will sometimes carry school lunches in. He took it in his hands.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"Both the male and female genitalia of goats."
Harry nearly dropped the bag right then and there.
"Don't worry," Aberforth comforted merrily. "No harm done to either goat. I've done plenty of experiments on this sort of thing. It's amazing what you can do combining cloning and magic. I would never have hurt Herbert or any other goat. I'm a vegetarian you know. You should come over to my place sometime; I make a mean tofu burger! Keep that bag safe now, you may need it someday."
Harry had no idea why he would need goat's privates; he figured he may desperately need some aspirin later on though. Putting the bag in his backpack so not to look rude throwing it away right there and then, Harry decided if he was going to be in charge, he was going to do things right.
"Is the rope all set up?" he asked Dedalus Diggle who seemed to just be finishing up putting some extra spell-work on the rope which had been attached to one of the benches.
"All set," was the answer.
Harry nodded, then walked over to Lupin who was standing next to the archway, about an inch away from the tattered black veil that fluttered ever so slightly, as if someone inside were running their fingers across it.
"Nervous?" he asked Harry.
"Not for myself." Harry replied, "I just hope we're not too late."
"Me too," Lupin said sadly. "I hate just standing here waiting like this. But patience is a virtue, I suppose."
"So you're both ready, are you?" Aberforth leapt up, raising an eyebrow.
"Ready as we'll ever be, I suppose," Harry responded as he continued to gaze at the threadbare black mass before them.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
That was the last thing Harry heard before Aberforth pushed both him and Lupin into the Veil before leaping in himself, Mananaconal rope in hand.
And after that, all he knew was darkness.
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