I'M BAAAAAAACK! Why did no one inform me that I had been gone for two months? HMPH. Here is a twenty page chapter to make up for the lack of updating.
By The Way: I still don't own it. Damn.
The votes are in. Harry will be a panther, and later a phoenix. Ron will be a lion, and will later become… a weasel. Mwahahaha. Thanks go to EvenstArwen for the idea. It even goes with the plot… Yes, there is a plot.
Harry heard his best friend scream his name, and he damn near had a panic attack. Thinking back on the book about occlumency he had read, he cleared his head of all panicked thoughts. He would deal with those later.
He followed the yell as best he could. His companions had leapt to their feet, and were also helping him look. He passed numerous trees, and his thoughts became darker and darker with each passing.
Another terrified yell. It was closer! Really close! Harry broke into a run, and stopped dead. A werewolf, a bloody WEREWOLF was glaring at a frightened Ron hungrily. Harry did a quick scan, and saw that, while scratched, Ron had not been bitten.
Occlumency be damned! Harry was panicking. Doing something nobody would do in a normal frame of mind, Harry attempted a full animagus form for the first time.
He and Ron had been practicing all summer, secluding themselves in their room. They each had only attempted the body, never the head, arms, or legs. All Harry knew about it was that he was blue-ish black, and had fur. Helpful.
Concentrating with all his might, which is not much considering he's a sixteen year old male, he slowly turned into his animal. The werewolf was slowly closing in on Ron. It leapt, and so did Harry. With a mighty growl, he jumped on the werewolf.
It snapped its strong jaws at him, and the fight began. Harry felt the claws of the man-wolf scratch his face, and tear painfully at his chest. Harry retaliated by clawing and biting his opponent.
Ron watched in horror as a panther leapt onto the werewolf that had tried to kill him. Then it hit him. It was Harry.
FlashBack-
Harry and Ron were sitting in their room, in the clear area between the beds. Harry had his torso transformed into that of what looked to be a panther. "Bloody awesome, mate!" Ron exclaimed.
A knock at the door sounded, and Harry looked panicked. "Yes, who's calling?" Ron watched his best mate call out. Ron rolled his eyes and added to the statement.
"He means… We're not in right now, please leave a message after the beep…" Ron deliberately left the statement open, hoping the person would go away. No such luck. The distinctly heard an unlocking charm.
"Oi! Bloody hell!" Harry dove under the bed with an agility that shocked Ron. Albus Dumbledore entered the room.
"Ronald, where is Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Ron looked over to under Harry's bed.
"Hiding under his bed," he answered, completely honest.
"Don't make me sound like a bloody coward, Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Harry shouted. Ron could see it now 'Harry Potter, hides under bed,'
Ron mentally laughed.
End Flashback.
They hadn't been caught, and both had laughed about it later.
But Ron wasn't laughing now. Blood was being spilt. The blood of his best mate.
Now Ron felt like the Cowardly Lion. He had been attacked, and what had he done? He screamed like a bloody first year Hufflepuff girl, that's what he'd done! He hadn't even given thought to using his wand. Harry had had to come to his rescue. Again.
Sick of his own lack of bravery, Ron also attempted a full scale transformation. The last thing he saw before he shut his eyes was the werewolf attempting to rip out the panthers spinal cord with his teeth.
Ron became his animal, which he couldn't identify. All he new was that his claws looked sharp, and his teeth felt pointy when he ran his tongue across them. And his fur was an orange. What the hell was he?
Then it clicked. HE'S A LION! It was all surreal to Ron. Just weird.
Ron tackled the werewolf, and bit the things paw, hard. Harry staggered to his feet, and helped him finish off the werewolf. When they were sure it couldn't attack, they changed back to humans.
"Mooney doesn't find out about this," Harry said seriously. "I want to live at least to see the destruction of Voldemort. Wait! Ron, since we're spending a year here, would we be seventeen when we got back to Hogwarts?" Harry asked. Ron's face lit up.
"Bloody hell! You can go to Hogsmeade whenever you want as soon as you're seventeen! Bloody awesome! Let's go find the others, Harry." And they did.
It was halfway through the sorting feast when Hermione Granger finally blew her top. She stormed up to the head table, and slammed he hands down in front of Dumbledore. He looked startled for the briefest of seconds, before composing himself.
"Yes, miss Granger?" he asked, in his calmest tone.
"Where. Are. They?" she snarled. He took on another brief surprised look. "I TOLD YOU I WOULD BE FORCED TO HURT YOU IF THEY DIDN'T SHOW UP!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the hall many times.
Before the aged man could reply, a ringing bang came from the castle doors. Someone was knocking. Albus Dumbledore turned to see Hagrid sitting at the end of the table, so it couldn't be him.
"Open the damn door!" a voice rang out. It was a deep, harmonious tone. It also sounded powerful. Very powerful. Albus stood and went to the door at a brisk pace. He could feel the eyes of all the students in the hall following him, like a hawk watching its prey. He exited the Great Hall, and went to the door. Standing a few feet from it, he called back-
"Who are you, and what business do you have with my school?" his voice matched the other person in power.
"Listen, old man, it's raining like the heavens have been torn apart. Open the door, or I'm charging it," the same voice demanded. Another voice entered the conversation. This one was just as deep, but it didn't have the same power to it.
"Last time you did that, you broke your shoulder," the other man said.
"Last time I did that, I didn't know there were fifty armed men reinforcing the door, either. That changes the plan a bit," the first man said, his tone never wavering from calm. "Open the door."
"Albus! Don't open that door!" Minerva said, her Scottish accent coming out, a sign of her worry. Albus looked from her, back to the door.
"How do we know we can trust you?" Albus asked, his tone cold.
"Open the door, right now, old man, or I will be sure to publish the pictures I have of you and McGonagall in a broom closet." Albus was sure he had turned bright red, and Minerva had, too. A few students in the hall started whispering. Albus now knew exactly who was on the other side of that door.
"Mr. Potter, I believe we discussed burning those," Albus said. A deep laugh came through the door.
"And you thought I would pass it up. As if. Now open the door," Harry said. Albus flicked his wand, and the doors opened with a grace one would not think of in relation to the old worn down doors.
He saw Harry Potter and Ron Weasley looking at him, thought they were hooded and cloaked. All he could see was their eyes. Ron's were a rich honey brown color, and they displayed intelligence, and a rather stunning amount of power. They had flecks of gold in them.
Harry's were different, too. He still had his mothers brilliant green eyes, but they spoke of a intelligence, knowledge, and power that Lily's had never achieved. They were calm, yet raging with a power that even Albus had trouble comprehending. They were simply stunning. His eyes were flecked with gold, but also a small bit of white.
"Oo. Feast," Ron said, walking quickly to the Gryffindor table. Albus noticed that the boy held himself differently than he had the day before. He kept his back straight, and his chin up. He also had a grace that made it look as if he were floating. Ron was also bigger. He stood at the same height as Albus himself now.
"Ronald Weasley, are you even going to say hi to me?" Hermione asked. Ron looked up from his plate, and his eyes lit up like the sun.
"HERMIONE!" he bellowed, actually leaping clear over the table to take her in his arms. "I've missed you," he said, pulling her into a kiss.
"Ew! Gross!" a few first and second years exclaimed. Hermione started giggling suddenly.
"Ronniekins? Do you have a beard?" she asked. She pulled down his hood, and sure enough, he had a goatee. His hair had changed. It was no longer bright Weasley Red, but a dark blood red, as was his goatee.
"Why, I believe I do," he said. "Would you like me to get rid of it?" She shook her head quickly. "Good. Because I won't."
"Now I want to see what Harry looks like," Ginny said.
"Same old hag he's always looked like," Ron said indifferently. Ginny slapped his arm on the way by, but stopped and grabbed his arm.
"What is this?" she asked, in a mocking tone. "Does my long and lanky brother finally have muscles?"
"If you think that's amazing, you should see Harry. He looks carved out of a mountain. His cloak hides it, though," Ron said, grinning back at Harry. His best friend scowled at him.
"Out with it, Harry," growled Ginny. Harry carefully lowered his hood, revealing a goatee that was just a bit longer than Ron's. He took the cloak off fully, and he was wearing the same clothes as the day he had left, only they were now bigger. They needed to be, to accommodate his muscles. Not bulky, overbearing muscles, but toned, defined muscles. "Oh. My. God. He's ripped! Have you been weightlifting, like, trolls?" Ginny asked. Harry grinned slightly.
"No. This came entirely from eating broccoli and carrots," Harry said. Albus noted that a few boys inconspicuously pulled plates of vegetables towards themselves. "But right now I feel as if I could eat my horse, so I'm eating now," Harry said, moving to sit down. Ron sat next to him.
"Bet I could eat a whole turkey before you could, mate," Ron said to him. Albus motioned for Minerva to meet him in his office. She nodded, and he made his way to the seventh floor.
"That's just gross," Hermione and Ginny both said. Their boyfriends were eating turkey. Not just a little piece. They were each eating a whole turkey. Ginny had nearly lost her dinner when they crunched down on the bones, too.
Harry finished first.
"You do know that that is disgusting and unhealthy on soo many levels, don't you?" Hermione asked. Harry looked at her, and gave a small grin.
"You learn to appreciate food when you have to kill it yourself," he said, smirking.
"Okay. Never say that to me, or near me, again, or I will hurt you," Hermione said.
"Ay, Harry," Seamus said, his Irish accent faint. It sounded strange, actually. "What is on your face?"
"Seamus, bugger off," Harry growled. "And don't be jealous, just because you haven't hit puberty yet."
"Oi! I'll have you now that I'm older than you! By three months," Seamus said.
"And I'm bigger, stronger, and smarter than you," Harry replied right back.
"Arsehole," Seamus muttered. Harry grinned.
"But you still love me," Harry said.
"Egotistical arsehole," Seamus said. Dean nodded.
"Looking good, Harry. No wonder Gin left me for you," Dean joked. Harry smiled at him.
"It wasn't that. It was the fact that you-"
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, I need to speak with you. The rest of you may go to your respective dormitories. I will make all important announcements at breakfast tomorrow. Good night," Dumbledore said, standing in the doorway. Harry and Ron looked at each other before standing.
"Stay here, boys," Dumbledore said quietly, walking up to them. He looked at Hermione and Ginny. "You two may also stay," he said, kindly. They nodded at him. McGonagall came up to them, too. She gave them her usual stern look, but a look of kindness was in her eyes that most students never got to see.
Harry and Ron gave her an exaggerated bow.
"Top o' the morning to yeh," they said, mimicking an Irish accent, for no apparent reason.
"That was random," Hermione said, eyeing them oddly.
"So is goat milk," her friends replied, both smirking at her. She huffed and rolled her eyes.
People started filling the Great Hall. They took seats at the one long table Dumbledore had conjured. Harry recognized them all as Order members he had seen over the summer.
The table was long and rectangular. Harry looked at Ron and smirked. Just as Dumbledore took is seat at the head of the table, they took out their wands.
People jumped when they were suddenly sitting at a round table, instead of a rectangle. They all turned accusatory glares at Harry and Ron. "Nobody is more important than anybody else. Except Mrs. Weasley. She is undeniably thee most important person here," Harry said firmly, in a tone that was serious, not mocking. Molly Weasley blushed red.
"To start off our meeting, I would like to introduce our four newest members. Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter," Dumbledore announced. Most of the Order smiled at them, but a few frowned. Snape just glared.
"But they are so young!" one woman exclaimed.
"I'm fifteen!" Ginny said, indignant.
"Sixteen," Hermione said, looking at the woman with a slight frown.
"Seventeen!" Harry and Ron said happily. Thirty heads snapped in their direction.
"I consider myself a sane man, Potter. One who knows the year. It is well known that you were born in eighty. It is only ninety six. It is not possible for you to be seventeen yet," Snape sneered. Harry smirked at him.
"It is if I spent a year in another dimension!" Harry said. "The last you saw me was twelve hours ago. The last I saw you was twelve months ago." Snapes glare faded a bit. "Moving on," Harry said, looking at Dumbledore.
"Right. Would you two care to explain how your training with the elves went?" Dumbledore asked. People around the table looked at them curiously.
"Well, your spell work could use a hell of a lot of work, that's for sure. You sent us right into the middle of a bloody war," Ron growled. "What better way to learn sword fighting than have actually enemies charging you, eh? The-Boy-Who-Lived-For-Blood did alright, though. He was cutting heads off with the best of 'em, he was. Didn't blink when he cut his enemy in half, did he? Nope," Ron said, looking at Harry. Harry gave a malicious grin.
"The head kept blinking after it was detached, too. Humorous, that was," Harry said.
Albus Dumbledore blinked. He had sent Harry to train in the art of sword fighting, not cold blooded killing. WOAH! Something went wrong, there. Change the subject, Albus!
"Anything else?" Albus asked. Harry and Ron looked at each other.
"Maybe we should show you, to avoid confusion," they said, wisely. Both stood up, wands pointed at the center of the table. "Memoria." Albus couldn't help but let his eyes widen. That was a spell he would have assumed was beyond both boys.
A shadowy mist spread around the table. It slowly solidified into the three dimensional figure of a memory. A stone castle, one that appeared to be carved out of a mountain, was visible. Harry zoomed the picture, so that it focused on three people in particular. Himself, Ron, and a man who looked remarkably like Sirius.
"Helm's Deep," both boys informed the Order, who watched with rapt attention.
Memory"Harry, do you think we're going to die?" Ron whispered to his friend, looking ahead of himself.
" 'Course we are!" Harry said cheerfully. "We just has to hope it happens in a good thousand or so years! Mortality is what you make it."
"Says the one that is immortal," Ron mumbled. Harry slapped his back, grinning broadly.
"That's the spirit! Just don't be an idiot and get yourself killed!"
"You two are entirely too happy right now," the Sirius looking man said to them. "You are staring at an army of ten thousand strong, coming at you. And you, greens eyes, are just laughing and having a merry time."
"Were you dropped on your head as a child, Harry?" Ron asked. Harry's face took on a thoughtful look, and his sword came under his chin.
"Most likely. But I've taken a few nasty spills this summer, too. Like when I fell down the stairs, my trunk hit my head. And then you pushed me off the horse…" Harry trailed off. He turned to the man you looked like his godfather. "And you, Aragorn, are entirely too depressed. The enemy is powerful, yes. Power will not stand down, only will it do so in the face of more power. We are more powerful," Harry said.
"No, Harry, you're more powerful. And luckier, too," Ron said, rolling his eyes.
"We must believe in luck. For how else can we explain the success of those we don't like?" Harry said, his eyes glinting towards and area unseen to the picture. Ron rolled his eyes, again.
"Harry, say something," Aragorn said. "Say something to these men. Make them believe we will be victorious. I know you can do that," Aragorn said, looking at Harry with near pleading eyes. "I can give them words of encouragement. You can give them courage."
Harry stood on the merlon of the battlement, and looked at the gathered men. "So! Who is throwing the after battle party? After we slaughter these orc things, we're going to need to celebrate! The ale is on King Theoden, of course! So, party in the keep after this little battle, where we will all get roaring drunk and sing like there were no woman in the area!" Harry yelled. A cheer went up as countless people in armor welcomed that idea. Harry jumped down next to Ron, and the picture of the memory swiveled, showing the back of their heads.
Thousands upon thousands of dark figures are but twenty feet from the castle, and then they stop. A roar of banging and yelling are heard from the creatures. They are hitting there first against there impossibly strong armor. They are roaring with a fury and… arrogance.
Ron growls, in a perfect match to a lion, and draws his sword. Harry's face is shown for a brief moment, and his eyes had an emotion that would make war veterans weep like toddlers. That fact that Harry actually licked his lips made it worse. He wanted to kill. He was in the mood to see blood dripping from his sword. He wanted death.
Suddenly Harry stooped and picked up a rock. He threw it at one of the Orcs, hitting them right in the neck. A bleeding gash appears, and a very noticeable wheeze comes from the one struck. It falls foreword, landing in the mud with a splat. Harry grins, and alarming, deadly grin.
The Orcs roar with rage, and charge. Arrows are fired, and returned. Harry is struck in the shoulder by an arrow, and Ron looks murderous. Suddenly he is no longer Ron, but a large lion, with gold fur and a red main. His roar causes the actual battlements to quiver in fear. Most of the Orcs freeze, but quickly resume fighting.
A squelching sound announces that Harry pulled the arrow from his wound, but when he returns into view, he is not Harry. He is a black panther, large and angry.
The panther jumps to the edge of the battlement, and prowls on top. The soldiers on the battlement pause in confusion as he stalks by, right in front of them, at their eyelevel. Suddenly the panther leapt down, and free fell forty feet, hitting the ground on all fours.
He went forward, and lunged at the nearest enemy, succeeding in tearing the creatures throat out with his teeth. He growls, his green eyes alight with rage, and blood thirst, then he attacks again, and again. Blood is coating the front of him, and he is smiling in a panther type way, reveling in the death he was causing.
A lion appeared next to him, causing the same amount of destruction. Both were receiving a substantial amount of damage themselves, too.
MemoryThe Order sat in shocked silence. Slowly, painfully slow, every head turned to stare at Harry and Ron. They grinned back. "So! That was one battle fought, and won. The next was in won, and… so was the third one. Harry, mate, I think our strategy worked all too well," Ron exclaimed happily.
"Kill first, ask questions later?" Harry asked, and eyebrow raised. "Yes, something could be learned from that. Maybe that simply stunning our opponent won't do jack for us. They can be revived, they can be unbound-"
"They can get drunk and start singing inappropriate songs-"
"I thought we agreed to never speak of that again!" Harry snapped, glaring at Ron.
"If you read the Brother Code of Conduct, that agreement was not official and not valid. But the story needs to be told in light of the recent dark times. We all need a good laugh, now and again. That was a knee slapper. I've put that in my memory right next to the incredible bouncing ferret," Ron said, sighing, lost in memory.
"What kind of songs?" Molly Weasley asked angrily.
" 'Scotty Doesn't Know', 'Stacy's Mom', 'Break Stuff,' 'Shut Up', 'I'm Just A Kid,' 'Too Hard For The Fuckin' Radio,' 'Hero,' and (my personal favorite) 'I Just Can't Wait To Be King'. The songs aren't necessarily dirty, per se, but seeing as no one in the room had any idea at all what on earth he was talking about, it was hilarious. The fact that he can actually sing made it worse," Ron grinned. Harry looked close to smacking him.
" 'Hero' happens to be a good song. And 'I'm Just A Kid', too," Harry defended himself.
" 'Me Against the World' suits you better, though," Ron pointed. "So does 'I Just Wanna Live'." Harry shook his head suddenly.
"Back to topic. Does anybody know what Voldemort is up to?" Harry asked. Many people jumped at the use of the name.
"Don't say his name!" Snape hissed.
"I didn't! I used his nick name. Say it with me now, Vol-dee-mort," Harry said calmly, announcing each syllable. "I could understand if his name was 'Imakillu', but. Come on, Voldemort?"
" 'Imakillu?" Ron asked. "What does that mean?"
"I'm going to kill you," Harry said simply. "But the freak got 'Voldemort by rearranging his given name. I could probably reenact the whole thing for you. Here's how it went. 'I am Lord… Hmm. What on earth do these letters make?' Now, after you cross out those letters, his name is left as 'Tom vo Rdle. Voldemort.' Ain't that fine and dandy?" Harry rolled his eyes. Snape hissed, but Harry hissed right back at him. "I can say anything right now, and you'll cringe, won't you?" Harry asked in parseltongue.
Snape did indeed cringe away slightly.
"We need to discuss the issue over Lucius Malfoy," Dumbledore said. Heads turned to look at him. "Three hours ago he was sentenced the Dementors Kiss. It will be performed tomorrow."
"Absolutely couldn't have asked for better news. One less enemy to worry about," Ron said firmly.
"Ronald, would you condemn a man, any man, to that?" Dumbledore asked sharply. Ron glared at him.
"Would you condemn his future victims to that? The children he would kill, the woman he would rape? The men he would torture? Is the life of one death eater more important than the lives of countless innocents? You may believe in second, third, and fourth chances, but I think that the Dementors Kiss is a mercy to Lucius Malfoy," Ron spat out, angry. Dumbledore reluctantly agreed. "Same goes for Bellatrix Lestrange."
Ron watched in amusement as Harry's eyes darted about, and he gave an animalistic growl. His normally solid green eyes turned red, then yellow, then white, and went back to green. His muscles seemed to remain tense.
"That never ceases to amuse me," Ron said. "Have you yet figured out how to get back at her?"
"Yes," Harry snarled, glaring at Ron. "On with this little meeting. Dumbledore, please continue."
"They have been sentenced to the Dementors Kiss. Certain people are allowed to lawfully use the killing curse in order to bring down people we are certain serve Voldemort. The Aurors, and the Order. I wish to have a ceremony tomorrow at dinner, to honor a few people. The lives of the convicted death eaters, and Sirius Black." Here, Dumbledore's eyes sparkle just a bit too much for any bodies well being. "And I would like Harry to make a speech," he said, calmly.
"Alright-" Harry jumped when Ron violently interrupted him.
"Bloody hell, no! Don't let him make a speech, it'll go on for DAYS!" Ron said, his eyes wide. You could almost feel his heart racing.
"Oh, bullocks. The longest speech I ever made was only four hours!" Harry growled, still pissed about the Lestrange comment.
"Anyway, don't let him make a speech. Ever," Ron said. Dumbledore merely smiled at him.
"You see, Ronald, I believe that Harry may help stop this silly house rivalry. Monday will be the first class he will teach-" Dumbledore was cut off by Ron repeatedly hitting his head against the table.
"Those poor, innocent children." The hundred gathered members of the Order stared at him. "Honestly, I'd rather learn tea etiquette from Voldemort himself, than sword fighting with Harry. He's a sadist, I'd bet my magic on it." Harry smirked.
"Who better to teach them," he almost purred, his voice deadly, "than me?"
"I, for one, feel I could teach it better," Snape said, his tone arrogant.
"You can't even properly teach your own subject. Don't pawn yourself onto others, Snape," Harry said, his tone even, but his eyes cold.
"Ooooh, buuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnn!" Ron said, drawing out the word. Snape glared at the pair of them.
"I'll have you know that, as a pureblood, I learned how to properly use swords from the age of three up," Snape sneered, looking down his crooked nose at both of them.
"You're as pureblood as I am, Snape. You're daddy was a muggle. In fact, my blood is purer than yours. So I can tell you exactly where you can shove that blood purist prejudice. Two can play this game. So take you muggleness, and leave this meeting," Harry said coldly. Snape paled, even more than he normally was, but then he reared back as if slapped.
"How dare you insult my honor!" Snape roared. A few people in the room flinched, but Harry just stood up. Of course, he was six foot four, so he was a rather intimidating person.
"How dare you insult my skill!" Harry boomed, his voice resembling the voice of God himself. It caused dust to fall from the ceiling. People stared at him in a mix of awe and fear. "You may know how to swing a sword, but do you know how to extract a kidney out of a wound with the tip of the blade? Could you survive in a battle? I should think not!"
"Believe me, Potter, your skill in anything could never surpass me! You're nothing but a pathetic teenager, with an arrogance problem!" Snape said, his voice cold, and filled with hatred. Harry couldn't help but laugh openly.
"Let us examine the word 'arrogant', Snape. The dictionary definition is 'Having or displaying a sense of overbearing self-worth or self-importance. Marked by or arising from a feeling or assumption of one's superiority toward others'. Now, let us take your first statement. 'Your skill in anything could never surpass me.' That sounds damn arrogant to me," Harry snarled. Snape stood also, as did Dumbledore.
"Gentlemen! Stop this foolishness!" Albus barked. He was getting a headache. Two very angry people looked at him, glaring. "Sit down. Now. Ronald, please finish the story. What else happened?"
Ron continued, until he got to a certain point. His eyes glazed over, and his sentences fragmented. "Then we were attacked. That ended quickly. Harry and I were both hurt. We won. And then we made it out of that bloody forest-"
"How, Ronald, were you attacked?" Albus asked the red head. He paused, then looked at him. Albus nodded for the young man to continue.
"From behind," was the answer. "Bloody quiet, it was."
"And what, exactly, was it?" Albus asked the sweating man. He wanted to know exactly what had caused Ron to have the reaction he'd had.
"A werewolf. I had wandered off a bit, and it attacked me. I screamed bloody murder, and Harry found me. He managed a full animagus transformation, and tackled it. They started fighting, but Harry's spine was nearly torn out of his back. That was the first time I managed my full form, too. I, uh, think we killed it," Ron said softly.
"My spine still won't straighten fully," Harry added.
"He got a cool scar from it, though," Ron intoned. Harry nodded.
"Oooh! I want to see the scar!" Ginny said, her eyes dancing.
"You just want to see him without a shirt on," Tonks teased.
"Neither of you are… werewolves, are you?" Remus asked.
"Not in the technical sense, no," Harry replied. "But we can run and move faster, and our hearing, seeing, and smelling improved. To the where we can see magic."
"Damn. That is always hard to get used to," Remus said, his eyes shining slightly.
"Not so much. The only other person around us who could do magic was Gandalf-"
"Who?" Albus asked sharply. Harry looked at him, then repeated the name. Albus couldn't believe what he had just heard.
"Dumbledore, we discussed this over the summer. Nothing was interesting then, you know," Harry said. "He's still the same tall, bearded dude, with a staff-"
"A staff, you say?" Harry nodded, wondering if Dumbledore had recently hit his head. "You do know, don't you, that the name Gandalf was used by some people, in the time of Merlin. They used it to refer to Merlin himself. Ron, Harry, I think you met Merlin," Albus said. Ron's eyes widened slightly, buy Harry showed no outward reaction.
"You'd think Merlin would be a bit more useful, wouldn't you?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes. "Couldn't even figure out a simple word puzzle, he couldn't. Speak 'friend' and enter. Bloody hell, anyone that doesn't understand that it meant 'mellon' is loony," Harry laughed.
"Please excuse an old man for having a bad day, then," came a gravelly voice Harry knew all too well.
"No. I don't think you are excused. Poor excuse for a genius…" Harry muttered. The Order turned to see five 'people' standing at the door. Harry and Ron recognized them instantly as Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, and-
"Yo! Eyebrows!" Harry and Ron exclaimed, looking at Elrond. The High Elf sighed, and seemed to slump (while still standing perfectly straight).
"Must you refer to me in such a manner?" he asked, scowling.
"All you do is scowl all day! Quit scowling, and we won't call you that anymore," Ron said. Elrond, omigosh, scowled at him.
"Boy, you certainly do know how to make a man scowl, don't you?" Aragorn asked. Dumbledore stood up, his face a mask of polite confusion.
"May I enquire as to who you are?" the headmaster asked politely. Elrond stepped foreword.
"I am Elrond, lord of Rivendell," Elrond replied. His hair, face, and eyes looked exactly the same, so Harry figured not a lot of time had passed since he left.
"I am Gimli, son of Glion," Gimli replied. Dumbledore nodded, looking thoughtful.
"I am Legolas, of the woodland realm," the tall blonde elf replied.
"Aragorn, son of Arathorn, King of Gondor," Aragorn said, his eyes resting on Harry and Ron, daring them to comment. They didn't.
"I am Gandalf the White." Simple man, that Gandalf. "I am, quite correctly, also known at one point as the Merlin of Britain." Harry's eyes widened now.
"You mean you're that Merlin?! And you didn't tell me!? Grrrrrrr…" Harry let out an animalistic growl, on form for his Panther.
"Very mature, Harry. Very mature," Tonks said.
"In this life, I look foreword to continued immaturity, and then death," Harry replied, still glaring at GanMerdalflin.
"Wise words, for an idiot," Ron said.
"What business do you have with us?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Gandalf, as if expecting him to be the leader.
"We," Elrond started, "wish to help in your war effort. As Harry and Ron both helped us immensely, we wish to repay that. I've found out-"
"Through his amazingly annoying ability to now an amazingly annoying amount of everything," Harry and Ron said dramatically.
"-That there is a Prophecy binding two souls together in a fight for life and death. In all reality, we don't want Harry to be the one to die. Even though both of them spent just a little too much time around Bilbo for my liking, if they are now beginning to speak as him," Elrond said. Harry and Ron grinned innocently.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve," Ron said, still grinning.
"All that is gold does not glitter; not all that wander are lost," Harry said.
"I'm going to have a headache. Onto my first matter, I have seen much death and destruction in the near future for Harry. All preventable, of course, but seeing as it is Harry…" Elrond's voice drifted off.
"What is that supposed to mean, old man?" Harry growled.
"Beside the fact that you manage to cause death and destruction at least three times before breakfast?" Gimli mocked.
"Listen, mini me, I'm not in the mood for your incessant Dwarf Rambling," Harry snapped. Gimli looked highly affronted, but shut up anyway. Harry turned back to Elrond. "What else do you know?"
"That you will die," Elrond replied with little to no hesitation. Harry didn't even blink. "It will be caused by the treachery so great, none here can comprehend the sheer magnitude by which I speak. The only thing that will make it worse is that fact that the traitor won't know who, what, or how he is betraying," Elrond said.
"That is reassuring," Harry muttered. "Aut viam inveniam aut faciam," Harry said quietly. "Aut vincere aut mori."
"Um, Harry? English, mate," Ron said, looking at harry in confusion.
"Hm?" Harry asked. "Oh! I simply said, 'I will either find a way, or make one,' and 'Either conquer or die'," Harry said, waving it off with his right hand.
"You have a thing with languages the people around you don't know, don't you?" Ron asked, clearly annoyed.
"It amuses me to no end to see your confusion. For now, I need to sleep. I have a headache, now. Good night," said Harry, walking to the door. He turned when he was halfway through ,and smirked at Ron. "Veni, vidi, vici." And then he was gone.
"What the bleeding hell does that mean?" Ron grumbled.
"I came, I saw, I conquered," Albus replied to the confused teen. "Ronald, would you tell Harry I wish to speak to him before breakfast tomorrow?"
"Yeah, sure. After I tear his head off. Stupid weirdo, always talking in riddles and codes…" Ron trailed off, as he walked out of the hall.
"He can't just walk out of a meeting!" Snape snapped. Elrond raised and eyebrow.
"You find, in time, that Harry runs things by his own schedule. He is quite an interesting person, when you get to know him," Elrond said, his tone cold. He was glaring at Severus.
"He is also the most powerful wizard I have ever come across," Gandalf said. Some people stared at him in shock. "He is. You've not seen him angry, have you? A beautiful morning, birds chirping, and the sun shining. Imagine this, now. Something happened that made Harry angry. Suddenly, the sky darkened, It began raining, and the castle we were in started shaking from the foundation up. I believe, if memory serve, that Ronald ended up cemented to the bottom of a lake after that."
"I'll tell you, it was not fun dealing with that," Aragorn said gruffly. "It's been two years, and I still smell of lake water."
"Showers generally work for that," Severus whispered, his quiet tone mocking. Aragorn looked them man over.
"Says you. I'm not even alive this century, and my hair is still clean. Of course, I am a king…" Aragorn was smirking now, an evil glint in his eye.
Albus sighed. It was another Sirius Black.
HACHYA! Twenty two pages!
Tell me if you liked it. Didn't like it. Hated it. Whatever.
ALSO! Please tell me if anything needs to be cleared up. Everything makes sense to me, but I wrote it, so…
MountainDewIsDeadly.