"No matter what kind of night you're having, morning always wins." Barbara Kingsolver
Chapter 15: Divide and Conquer
"And how, may I ask, did you come about this information, Harry?" asked Dumbledore quietly, gazing over his half-moon spectacles at the young man standing in front of him.
"I-I saw it. I was inside Voldemort's mind as he planed the attack." Harry closed his eyes irritably at the response this got. He had expected this, he told himself sternly; he had known the Order wouldn't believe him; he shouldn't be surprised. Or hurt. He just had to deal with the situation. Reasonably.
Taking a deep breath, and trying to calm his anxiousness, he stated clearly and simply, "I had a dream, in which I found myself inside Voldemort's mind. I can assure you this wasn't planted in my mind. My Occlumency barriers were intact when I woke up."
"Are you sure of this, Harry?" Tonks asked with a concerned frown.
"Why should we take this child's word for truth?" sneered Professor Snape, which warranted him an annoyed glance from Dumbledore.
Harry held back an incensed retort, and said, "You might not want to believe me, Professor, but are you ready to accept the consequences if I am, indeed, right?"
"And are you ready to accept the consequences if you are not?" Snape answered, his voice spiteful. "I would have thought you had more sense then to fall for the same trick twice, Potter. Weren't you satisfied, getting that mutt killed?"
Harry took a step back as if he had been slapped. His eyes took on the glazed look of someone who had received an unexpected punch. Bill sprung from his chair, his wand in hand, followed closely by his brother Charlie, both Weasleys with a look of pure loathing in their eyes.
Harry stumbled and found himself leaning against the cold wall of the kitchen. He felt as if he would be sick. Somewhere in his mind he knew this was a low trick; Snape only wanted him destabilized. He felt his control slipping, the tight leash he had kept around his magic loosen.
Suddenly, he felt himself being pulled into a warm, comforting hug. A friendly voice calling to him, "Harry?" Remus cried in his ear, snapping the boy out of the numbness and shock that had taken hold of him after Snape's little speech. "Harry, don't listen to him. Get a hold of yourself; you're letting your magic slip! Snap out of it, Harry!"
Around the table, the situation was quickly getting out of hand. Fred and George had also risen in Harry's defence, and seemed more than happy to take a swing at Snape in revenge for seven long years of abuse.
Suddenly Dumbledore rose and said, his voice magically carrying over the pandemonium in the room, "ENOUGH!"
It was on times like this, Harry thought, that one realizes why Dumbledore is said to be the greatest wizard of the age. He couldn't imagine anyone going against a direct order when the headmaster spoke like that. The response was instantaneous. Every last person in the room sat down, and was quieted.
"We will NOT quarrel among ourselves. I would like to take this moment to remind all those present that we have the same goals. I will not tolerate threats and insults. Is that understood?" Dumbledore gave Snape a hard, reproachful look, and then gave the room at large a disappointed glance. His eyes finally fell on Harry, who had taken a seat at one end of the table, and seemed to be struggling to control his anger. He asked the boy quietly, in a much gentler tone, "Do you need a moment, Harry, or might we continue?"
"I'm fine, Professor," snapped Harry, as he raised his eyes which had been glaring at the table, "We may continue. I now know where I stand with most people in here." The professor noticed immediately that the slight silver glow was back in the boy's eyes. Not a good sign.
"Very well. You said that you had proof this was a valid vision? Could you explain that in more detail to us?" He sighed slightly and told Harry, seeming tired and worn out. "I appreciate you coming forward with this information, Harry, but you have to understand our reluctance to take this at face value. You have been wrong in the past, I'm afraid."
Harry took a deep, calming breath. At least, he thought, Dumbledore was willing to listen. Clearing his throat quietly, he said, "I have managed to learn Occlumency, to some extent, this summer. My barriers aren't strong, and I have by no means mastered the subject or the technique, but my shields are acceptable and I have managed to block Voldemort for long periods of time, even in his presence. You've seen this yourself, Professor, so you can't doubt my word." He stopped, and wondered if it was worthwhile telling those people the second reason he felt this was the true thing. He wasn't sure they would believe anything he said, either way.
Dumbledore, seeing Harry hesitate for the first time that night, asked, "Is there something else, Harry? Please don't keep anything from us, from me, tonight. There is too much at stake here for us to afford half-truths."
Harry nodded, and not meeting anyone's eyes, said, "I could feel what Voldemort was feeling. I could feel everything he felt as he talked. Glee, anger, rage, happiness, pleasure." He shuddered visibly as he talked, his eyes glazing.
"And how is that different from your other visions, Harry? I was under the impression this was a normal occurrence, due to your link." But Harry was already shaking his head even before the Headmaster finished his speech.
"No, Professor, it's normal for me to see what he sees, hear what he says, feel what he does. But never like this. I could never feel his feelings as if they were my own. See his thoughts filtering inside my head. No, this was something different. I don't know why it was different, and why it was so strong, but I know it was real. He couldn't have planted something like this without breaching my barriers. Certainly not without my noticing."
Harry didn't waver at the pitying and often disbelieving glances, but kept his eyes locked with the professor's, and even went as far as carefully lowering part of his Occlumency barriers, allowing the Headmaster to see that all he said was in good faith.
Dumbledore smiled sadly at him, but said carefully, "Our instincts, our impressions, can be misleading, Harry."
"I, of all people know that Professor. But the circumstances here are different. I told you, my barriers were intact!" Harry was trying to answer every question reasonably, calmly. He couldn't let the frantic urge to act to get the better of him.
"Then how did you find yourself inside Voldemort's head, Harry? You couldn't have done that while your mind was occluded. The whole process of Occlumency is designed to block all contact of the mind with anything outside of itself." Dumbledore's voice had changed tone. It had taken the slightly patronizing edge Harry heard on most teachers, or on adults dealing with children, and it unnerved him to no end.
"Maybe so, professor, but you know as well as I do that a wizard will never be completely blocked from the outside world. His magic would never allow it. We all feel the pull, the urge to let our magic connect with…" He suddenly stopped, eyes wide, then frowned, and whispered. "That's it. Of course, how stupid of me. I should have seen it before."
"Harry? What is it?" asked Remus frantically. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Harry knew enough theory on an advanced mind protection technique to argue with the headmaster on it. It was mind blowing, sometimes, to see how far Harry had come.
"The magic, yes. Don't you see? Magic attracts magic. It's obvious." Harry seemed to be talking to himself, but looked around the room, as if searching for understanding. Finally, he looked up, and once more locked gazes with his Headmaster. "Don't you see, Professor? Magic attracts magic." He willed Dumbledore to grasp what he was trying to say. He didn't want to have to spell this out, not here, in a meeting with most of the Order, people he had never met before, didn't know if he could trust.
One of the first things Harry had realized during his long study sessions was that most scholars agreed that magic, by it's very nature, was attracted to magic. And due to the fact that nature, the whole of existence really, was filled to the brink with the thing, it was impossible for a wizard to completely close his body or his mind from outside influence.
Said wizard's power would be drawn to the magic in the outside world, and would seek new channels in order to connect with it. Occlumency was, because of that, an art that went against the very nature of a wizards' being, and thus extremely difficult to fully master. The whole process demanded acute self-control, and a deep knowledge of one's body and magic. Both of which Harry thought he had.
But Harry's magic had changed drastically those last few weeks. It had changed, and he hadn't bothered to modify his shields. He had been afraid, truth be told, of messing with that kind of power before he had full control over it.
He had reasoned that it was still the same magic, his very own powers, only a little more capricious than before. It really shouldn't have changed the internal workings of his barriers. But then, he thought, he had forgotten to take into account his blasted connection with Voldemort. It was only to be expected that his magic would reach out through the most accessible route. Especially considering what an extensive well was at the other end.
In the few moments after he stopped talking, while most of the Order watched him expecting some sort of answer, he had come to the most obvious answer, the only logical conclusion to the problem of why he'd had this vision. Voldemort hadn't gone searching for Harry. The truth was that, on the contrary, his magic had lead him to the Dark Lord.
The thought terrified him more than he would ever be able to admit, and proved, at least to him, that the vision was real. He needed to talk to Dumbledore, needed to understand the implications of this discovery, but that wasn't happening tonight. Not in the middle of a meeting, the night before an attack.
He had to acknowledge, however, that the results of this whole ordeal weren't so bad. He'd had his little dip into darkness and had come back with information that might save hundreds of lives. Hundreds of kids, his schoolmates. Innocent lives, for the most part. Maybe, after all, Dumbledore was wrong, and his instincts weren't misleading. He felt like smiling, laughing, even if it meant ruining all the effort he'd put in this meeting.
Controlling his sudden exuberance at the realisation that his scar link might have finally done some good, he turned his attention to the Headmaster once more. The old man was frowning, gazing at Harry calculatingly. He seemed ready to ask questions. Questions Harry didn't want to answer right then.
Standing up once more, Harry said, "Look, I know you don't want to believe me, not after what happened in June, but I give you my word, my word as a wizard, that I know for a fact this is true, that Voldemort is indeed planning an attack." He'd given his word. When he swore by his magic, he wasn't able to lie, and they all knew that.
Sighing heavily, Dumbledore turned to Harry and said quietly, "Thank you Harry, for being so forthcoming. I'll want to discuss this further with you, but I believe that this is not the right time. The Order will consider this information, and take as many steps we judge necessary to protect you and the students. You can rest assured that our best efforts will be put into this."
It took a moment for Harry to realize that he'd just been summarily dismissed. Harry would have laughed at the directness of the professor, if he weren't so angry at being, once more, treated as a kid. Frowning, Harry pulled a chair and sat down.
"That's good to hear, professor," Harry said, smiling.
"Harry," Dumbledore answered in a disapproving voice, "I thank you for the information. You can go now. Enjoy your last day of summer with your friends."
"Can't do that, Professor. It is, after all, my safety that will be discussed here. I want to have a say in the matter." Harry kept his voice level, and forced himself not to lose his temper.
Surprise was quite visible on Dumbledore's face. Murmurs broke around the table. Harry didn't take his eyes off Dumbledore.
"Harry," the headmaster said, "we can discuss this later. Right now, the Order must have a meeting."
"I understand that you must have a meeting, Professor, you obviously will be discussing security arrangement s for the train ride. For once, I want to know what they are, seeing as I'm the one person concerned. I don't want a repeat of Privet Drive," said Harry seriously.
"You don't need to worry, Harry. I assure you, you'll be perfectly safe."
"You'll forgive me for not taking your word for it, Professor. You don't exactly have a clean record where I'm concerned." How dare Dumbledore ask him to leave, when he was the one who had come to him in the first place!
"I'm sorry, Harry, but you'll just have to trust me. Don't worry, I tell you, enjoy the last of your holidays!"
Harry's eyes flashed at this. It was amazing how Dumbledore simply could never admit he was wrong, or at least that someone else might be right. He stood up, finally admitting to himself that he was more than a little angry.
"Don't worry?" he whispered fiercely, "Is that all you have to say to me?" He gave a bark of laughter, quickly replaced by an ironic smirk. "I suppose you expect me to go to my room like a nice little boy, and ignore that I just had a vision with the bloody Dark Lord plotting to kill me."
"I expect you to do your utmost to continue to have a normal life, Harry. Nothing more."
"And what exactly is normal, Professor? Being kidnapped from my so-called house? Seeing my Godfather die? Killing a basilisk? Is any of that normal? And all you have to say is not to worry?" There was a moment of tense silence before Harry continued, "That's not nearly good enough. Voldemort wants me dead, and he wants information that I'm the only one that can give him. Forgive me if I can't stop worrying!"
Harry's whole body was tense when he stopped talking. He looked around, and noticed quite a few supporting faces. Maybe the Order wasn't so much Dumbledore's puppet as he had thought. Remus was smiling - he thought Dumbledore deserved all he got from Harry; Tonks and Bill were sharing a laugh. Other faces around the room were nodding silently. But Dumbledore wasn't moved, and Mrs. Weasley, he noticed, still seemed torn by what he was doing.
Seeing that the headmaster would not be talked out of anything, and that this fight was making them both lose time, Harry let out an exasperated breath and said, "I thought we could work together, to end this quickly. I thought I'd be able to trust you, seeing as you've been where I am before. I thought you would keep your word, and keep me informed, seeing as you can't possibly win this without me. I just realized what foolish hopes those were. Very well, I'll leave. Don't expect me to come to you again, Professor." He gave one last, disappointed glance at the faces surrounding him, and stormed out. He needed Ginny.
The noise from the slamming door had just faded when Tonks, of all people, voiced the question on everyone's mind. "What the hell was that?" Her voice was incredulous, but one could still see that she was struggling not to laugh.
All those present turned to Dumbledore, at the head of the table, waiting for an explanation. The headmaster, however, decided not to satisfy their curiosity. "Could we go back to the matter at hand, please?" he asked the table at large with a hint of impatience in his voice.
Protest broke around the table, but the quiet yet strong voice of Remus Lupin broke through it. "Don't you think we should discuss what just happened here, Albus?"
Several nods around the table confirmed that most of the Order agreed with Remus. Snape, who had kept uncommonly quiet since his outbreak, sneered, "Want to give the brat even more attention, werewolf?"
"What got your knickers in a twist, Severus? You are uncommonly bitter today, even for your sunny persona," answered Remus with a smile.
The headmaster frowned, and said, "I don't see what there is to discuss. Harry won't join this Order until I see fit to extend him an invitation. This isn't happening today. He's too young, and he isn't ready. There is no discussion, I forbid it."
Silence greeted his announcement, but it was visible that many did not agree with his reasoning. Suddenly, a lilting, feminine voice spoke from a darkened corner of the room. "I didn't see Harry saying anything about joining the Order, Albus. I think he'd be more than satisfied with simply sitting on this meeting, and being reassured that he wasn't alone. You just took that comfort away from him." She added with a bitter twinge in her voice, "I see your people skills haven't improved with time, Albus. You're digging your own grave. Or rather, I should say, Harry's."
"Elektra is right, Albus," came Mad Eye's gruff growl, "Voldemort won't wait until the boy has graduated or becomes of age of some other such nonsense. It's obvious he wants his head in a platter, and I assure you, it's not pleasant to be hunted. Especially when you're young and have no training."
Dumbledore fixed Alastor with such a glare that would have cowered a lesser man. The old Auror disregarded the warning with supreme indifference, his magical eye twirling in amusement at their leader's predicament. He'd never, since James had died and Sirius was imprisoned, had so many of his orders questioned. It was all in all incredibly refreshing.
"We will keep him safe until such a time as he is ready to take his place in this war. Meanwhile he will train, and lead a normal life." Dumbledore was obviously starting to lose his patience. His eyes had lost their twinkle, and he was drumming his fingers on the table, a lack of composure he'd never have allowed himself under normal circumstances.
"Keep him safe?" cut in Bill Weasley's incredulous voice. "Yeah, sure, cause that worked perfectly well, up till now!" He paused a moment, controlling his temper, before continuing, "How can you even say that Professor, after this summer?"
Molly shrill voice interrupted her son's rant, "Bill! Show some respect! What happened wasn't -"
"Wasn't what, mum? Wasn't professor's Dumbledore's fault? Whose fault was it then? Certainly not Harry's - even though the way you've been treating him says otherwise!" He glared at his mother, and continued in a softer voice, "All of that for the sake of protection! Protection!" He took a deep breath, and said, addressing the room at large, but focusing on Dumbledore. "You should know, you should all know, that if it weren't for Ginny and her letters, letters, must I remind you, that you blamed her for writing, Voldemort would have had his work cut out for him! Harry wouldn't be here, no matter how protected he was. What good is protection if you can't have a life worth living? I'd rather face a horde of Death Eaters than a week with those Muggles. And you call that protection! Now," he took a deep breath and sat down again, "if we could get back to the matter at hand…"
There was a tense moment where no one spoke, and then Remus added his grain of salt, "I happen to wholeheartedly agree with Bill, although I'm not sure how he could possibly know so much about Harry's state of mind…"
Bill smiled, "I happen to be Gin-Gin's favourite brother, Remus. She tells me everything, mostly because I'm one of the few people who actually treat her as an adult. Not even Charlie knows this much, do you, brother?"
"Actually, I don't, brother, and let it be noted that I resent it!" he smiled, dissipating the tense atmosphere in the room, "However, we both know who she came to after that dream."
"Don't flatter yourself, Charlie. That happened simply because your room was closer to hers. It has no bearing whatsoever on the matter at hand."
Remus, although he was internally laughing at the two brothers bantering, felt it was time to move forward with the meeting. "Albus, have you told Harry that he was emancipated?"
"He hasn't been, the Wizengamot hasn't verified Sirius' will. None of us wished to risk harsh decisions on Mr. Potter's part."
Silence greeted this statement. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that the Wizengamot hadn't made any decision whatsoever, and that Dumbledore had forced the vote. This would not sit well with Harry.
"Have you told him of his alleged heritage?" Elektra, who had been silent throughout the meeting asked quietly.
"I haven't," answered the headmaster once more, "and I would prefer if no one else that is familiar with the old tales spread the information."
"You are making a mistake, Albus," was the quiet answer. "He deserves to know, especially considering what is going on in his life. He will find out soon enough, since he went to the vault, but it will be worse if he finds out through other means. I tell you, you are pilling up errors of judgement when it comes to Harry."
"He has too much on his mind, he has too much to deal with. I won't burden him with unnecessary responsibility," muttered Dumbledore, glaring at the young woman's swirling eyes.
"He won't be able to deal with anything if he doesn't have the facts. If you don't do it, Albus, I swear I'll do it myself." She was glaring right back at the old man.
"You would go against my expressed wishes, Elektra?" he said calmly, calculatingly.
"I have done it before, and I'll have no qualms about doing it again. I'm not a member of the Order, nor do I wish to become one. I answer to no one but myself. Regretting having called me back yet, Albus?" she asked, smirking.
"Merely concerned. Why have you come?" he asked tiredly. The meeting had certainly not gone as expected, and they still had security arrangements to plan. Elektra being here would simply complicate matters further, and he knew she wouldn't be dismissed as easily as Harry had. He was still amazed by the fierce loyalty the boy seemed to command, and be concerned that, through his blind confidence in his plans, he might be making a mistake.
"I've come because Harry's vision was real, and you need to prepare. There is no more time for idle chatter…"
Crossing the barrier to platform 9 3⁄4 Harry felt a warm rush spreading through his body. The sight of the red train, smoke pouring out on the platform, held many - if not all - of his fondest memories. Meeting Ron and Hermione in his first year, seeing the small 10 year old Ginny running after the train as they waved, realizing that for the first time in his life he was free to be himself, to build his own life.
Looking at the smoking locomotive, thinking of Hogwarts, he realized that, in a few moments, this whole place might become a battlefield. And that right here, one of the happiest places he knew, people might die. He shuddered at the thought and pressed onward, leading Ginny towards the train.
Every now and then, he'd cross a familiar face, old DA members, house mates, and stop to say a few words, flinching away from questions, and enjoying the mindless chit chat.
Soon afterwards, the rest of the Weasleys, plus Remus, Tonks and Hermione joined them. As if in a déjà vu, Molly started saying her goodbyes, hugging each of her offspring. She finally reached Harry, who was standing next to Ginny, surveying the crowds, watching as student after student mounted the train.
"Goodbye, Harry. I hope you have a nice school year," said Molly quietly.
"We can always hope, Mrs. Weasley," was his reply. He looked at the woman who had previously been so open, so accepting, that had taken him in, and saw that she seemed about to cry.
Suddenly, she flung herself at him, and enfolded him in a crushing hug, whispering fiercely in his ear, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Harry, for the way I've been treating you. I'm so afraid; it's so frightening to see you all growing up. I wish you were still children, and that I could protect you all from the horrors of this war. Oh, Harry, please come back to us! I couldn't bear to lose you, any of you!"
Harry sighed in relief, and hugged Molly back just as forcefully, and said, quietly, for her ears only, "I'll do my best, Mrs. Weasley, and I'll do my best to keep them all safe too. Thank you for everything, and don't worry about the last few days. I'll be okay."
The last warning sounded, and the four teenagers realized they were the last students outside the train, and hurriedly started pushing their trunks inside. Neville, always ready to help, came out to help them. Soon, their things were inside, and they started mounting the steps leading to their cabin.
Harry was about to give Ginny a hands up when the first explosion rocked the station, followed by the screams and the sound of dislocating air from Apparition. Then, a rippling wave of magic swept over the train, encircling the whole vehicle in a shimmering golden light.
The station was under attack, and the Aurors and Order members were nowhere to be found.