Harry Potter and the Power of the Past
Harry Potter and the Power of the Past
Disclaimer: All JKR's, not mine.
Summary: This is a complete AU- Harry Potter is a 21-year-old wizard, who's on top of the world. He's rich, in love, and loved by all, but his life is turned upside down as a spiral of events leads to the ultimate battle between good and evil. Can Harry lead the fight for the light, but yet manage to keep his life together?
A/N: Thanks for the reviews everybody. Oh, and review again!
S/N: Hey everyone, sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I've just been real busy with my second draft of my novel that I didn't get around to this story all that much. I'm not forgetting about it or abandoning it so don't you worry, once August comes around I'll be writing every day. I hope you do enjoy this chapter, though.
S/N 2: This is the chapter that is the calm before the storm; I start dropping hints in this chapter about this story's future. Harry will be going on a "treasure" hunt next chapter, so be ready for that.
Chapter 27: Burned in More Ways than One
It had been five days since Albus Dumbledore's funeral, and the fate of Hogwarts had been decided in that span. After a unanimous decision between the Headmistress Minerva McGonagall and the Governors of Hogwarts, the school had been closed down for an early holiday break. It would reopen once the holiday season had finished, just after the wards had been reinforced and a new Transfiguration teacher had been hired. Some pureblooded parents had taken their children out of the school for protection, but most halfbloods and muggleborns were eager for the school to open back up, knowing that it was the safest place for them to be.
Meanwhile, the lull of fighting that had overcome the wizarding world after the great wizard's death had ended. Voldemort had begun to up his attacks on pureblood families that refused to join him lately, with the destruction of a few manor houses throughout the United Kingdom. Just as it had during the last war, the wizarding world was becoming disarrayed, with fear and panic running rampant. People started to take precautions by going to the extremes to protect themselves rather than relying on the Ministry, losing faith in their own safety; Voldemort seemed to be gaining even more power by the day in their eyes. The Order, meanwhile, was fighting the Death Eaters whenever they could, spreading themselves out to dangerous levels just to meet the dark wizards in battle.
During that time, Harry had been slaving over his research, trying to find out where and what Voldermort's Horcruxes were. Taking on both the research and the head of the Order was tiring, and Harry was beginning to feel the stress that was accumulating. He would barely get anymore than an hour of sleep at nights, and he always seemed moody for some reason, as if his cheerfulness was being sucked out of him, with solemnity taking its place. More and more often, he'd have to take a break from something to take a deep breath, trying to ease his anger and tiredness.
"What are we going to do, Harry? What can we do?" Roger questioned the man about the attacks; his back was turned to the group, which consisted of Sirius, Remus, Nymphadora, Hermione, Roger, and Viktor. They all stared at him as they waited for his answer, wondering what his plan would be, wondering if he had the solution to their problem.
"I don't know." Harry admitted, not knowing how to further protect the good and decent purebloods that were being brutalized by the Death Eaters just for not giving into the Dark Lord. Everything the Order did seemed to be overcome by Voldemort, as if he was prepared for everything they could throw at him.
"What do you mean you don't know? You have to know, you have to have some ideas, you're the one who's leading the Order. If you don't decide what the Order is going to do, then the Order is forced to sit and watch as atrocities happen all over the country." Remus chastised, hoping to get Harry back on track; the man was constantly second guessing himself now, his mind clearly distracted.
"I AM NO ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!" Harry screamed out, whipping around to face the group. Then, flicking his eyes to the ground, he slumped his shoulders and said, "I…can't do this. I'm not ready for this." His mind was clouded with plans and concerns, as ideas and thoughts churned in his brain, muddling his decision making process. He was worried about making a mistake, as having his attention being split in half between the Order and the Horcruxes was preventing him from learning all he could about a situation before acting; he didn't want blood on his hands for his ignorance and lack of forethought.
Sirius, from Harry's side, looked up at the wizard; his brow was raised. "You're young, yes." He scowled, pushing Harry a bit, though not enough to move him. "But you are the best wizard we have, and the person who inherited the light's throne from Dumbledore. Stop second guessing yourself, stop over thinking things, and just do what you're good at."
They all left, Nymphadora giving Harry a kiss on the cheek, leaving him alone in the room for a few minutes. The man sighed and took a seat in one of the chairs off to the side, closing his eyes for a second of peace and quiet. He didn't hear his friend Kylie come into the room, however, and was startled by the man's voice. "Harry, are you okay? You look tired." Kylie questioned, seeing the haggard state the wizard was in; he had bags under his eyes, and he was a little pale. "You've been awfully busy lately, let me help you. I can, and maybe I should, stop being a spy and help you out with the Order full time." Kylie offered, looking over at Harry with a questioning glance.
"No," Harry shook his head, adamantly. "We need you as a spy; you help us out more in that position. Did Nymphie ask you to do this? I saw you two talking to one another last night after dinner. Or was it Sirius as he passed you on his way out of here?"
"Well, Harry," Kylie chided, a little angrily. "You need help; and the kind of help that you need can only be done by a wizard like me. Snape, Sirius, and Cedric are just as busy as I am so they couldn't help you, Remus is still trying to recruit the werewolves, and we need Shacklebolt in the Ministry: we're out of people. And no body asked me to talk to you, I decided to ask you on my own. So what are you going to do then, we both know you need someone. Even Dumbledore needed someone, Harry."
Again Harry sighed, running a hand over his forehead, feeling as if he was having the same conversation as the one he had before. "I know, " Then, suddenly, he looked up, smiling at the thought that he was struck with, new energy seemingly entering his body and giving him strength. The thought was the name of someone who would be able to help him, his friend and McGonagall's nephew. "Herald." He muttered, earning a quirk of the brow from Kylie.
Later that night, Harry rolled over in his sleep, the room darkened and quiet. He moaned slightly, his chest rising and falling in a synchronized motion, and his eyes were moving in their sockets as he dreamed. The moonlight crept into the room through the curtains, alighting the place in an eerie, yet somewhat beautiful silver glow. Suddenly, the door swung open loudly, and Nymphadora came rushing in. "Harry," She said upon reaching the bed; she leaned down and shook her husband awake. "Get up!"
Harry's eyes shot open, and he instinctively reached for his wand that was sitting on the nightstand to his left. "What?" He questioned, worriedly, as he jumped to his feet, wand in hand. It had become habit over the months to be ready for battle at all hours of the night, knowing that Voldemort and his Death Eaters rarely slept.
"It's Lilyre, he's being attacked." Nymphadora puffed out through her breaths; she had run all the way up from the dirt road entrance to the house. "Aurors and Hit Wizards have already been dispatched, I came home to get you for help."
Harry growled, quickly threw on some clothes and hurried out of the door. Running to the apparation point that only he and Tonks knew about, he disapparated to Lilyre's house without a sound. Nymphadora followed him closely, apparating out a second after he did; a nervous look was upon her face as she left, as if she felt something dark and ominous coming. The sight they saw when the pair got there surprised them both.
Lilyre's house, which was his family's ancestral home, was halfway destroyed and fires of intense heat were burning out of the roof, alighting the snowy ground below. A group of wizards were engaging one another on the grass near the house; Lilyre was desperately throwing killing curses at the black-cloaked Death Eaters, trying to get revenge upon those who attacked him, while the Aurors were trying to subdue the dark wizards that outnumbered them. Harry and Tonks jumped into the fray right away, taking out a Death Eater as they moved towards Lilyre's position.
"Potter's here!" A Death Eater screamed out into the night from under his cloak and mask. All of the Death Eater's turned his way, looking at him for a second before turning his or her attention back to who they were dueling. Surprisingly, two wizards ran his way with their wands out, prepared for battle.
With a burst of purple energy, a curse shot out right at Harry, forcing the wizard to put up a shield to protect himself. "What the…?" Harry whispered to himself, recognizing the powerful magic. Knowing there were very few Death Eaters who knew and could perform that magic, he guessed the two coming at him were Quirrell and Crouch; the only other Death Eater he knew who was that powerful was Bellatrix Lestrange, but she had yet to show her face to the public since their last duel. The two Death Eaters bombarded him with spells right away, trying to overpower his defenses; they both were wearing metal masks, a derivative of the bone masks that the lower Death Eaters wore.
He ducked under a blasting curse, and sent a spell of his own at them; it created a gust of dirt that shot up into their eyes, blinding them for just a second. The Death Eaters countered with two killing curses, forcing Harry to the ground and into the cold snow to protect himself. Then, horrified, Harry saw the path the two curses were on: straight at Tonks' back. With a swish of his wand, Tonks' legs were pulled out from under her and she fell as a result, her face landing in the snow just like Harry's. The curses passed safely over her and Harry sighed audibly, his face gaining the color back that he had lost in worry. Quickly, he hopped back to his feet, sending a stunner at the Death Eaters in the process, and then he banished a boulder at them; they dodged both with a roll, one of them losing their wand in the process.
He flicked his wand to the left, extinguishing the flames that were engulfing a tree, not wanting it to cause any more damage. He dodged another archaic curse that was sent by one of the Death Eaters, as the other one bent down to pick up his wand. He swished his wand grandly, and sent a blast that was like the wind at them, knocking the pair to the ground. One Death Eater he was fighting, he noticed, was a pushover, the other one mainly supplying all of the powerful and ancient spells. The strong Death Eater was by no means on any level close to Harry, or even Sirius or Remus or Kylie, but he was still pretty good; clearly a top notch wizard under normal circumstances. The other Death Eater it would seem was just there for backup; the kind of wizard that followed Draco Malfoy or another type like that.
Both Death Eaters jumped back to their feet, releasing a Cruciatus curse in anger. Harry dodged them both, throwing up some meager defenses as he scattered about on the ground. "Expulso!" Harry yelled out, blowing up the small tree that he had just extinguished the flames on; one of the limbs collapsed upon one of the Death Eaters, trapping him under it, while the other one maneuvered around the pieces of wood that littered the ground.
Just as the Death Eater pushed the tree limb off of him and began to get back to his feet, a killing curse that had come from another duel and had ricocheted off of a boulder came whizzing out of nowhere, towards the dark wizard. As if it was his fate, the green light hit the less powerful Death Eater in the chest, killing him instantly. His body fell to the ground, limp and unmoving. For a second the other Death Eater looked down at his comrade's body, and Harry could have sworn he heard a gasp then a sigh as if the Death Eater's demise had meant something to him, as if in a group of dark wizards bent on world domination, the two had been friends.
Then, turning his attention back to the duel, the wizard raised his wand arm. "Legilimens!" The Death Eater screamed, pointing his wand straight at Harry's face, using the mind-reading spell as an attack. Immediately, Harry felt a blast of energy collide against his mental shields. He smiled a little, knowing that he would easily over power the Death Eater, having been taught Occlumency from Dumbledore himself, and force the dark wizard out of his mind. A second later he did just that, and as a result, the Death Eater stumbled.
"My turn!" Harry said, pointing his own black wand at the Death Eater's head. The Death Eater's measly mental shields crumbled easily, and memories flooded into Harry's consciousness. Stephen Cornfoot, Harry thought to himself as the man's identity became known, surprised by who the Death Eater was. He had gone to Hogwarts with the man and had somewhat of a rivalry with him—Stephen always tried to outdo both Harry and Hermione when it came to grades and school accolades such as Prefect and Headboy.
As Harry ended the connection with Stephen's memories, members of the Order came to the battle, arriving with pops and swirls of cloaks; there were five of them total. They immediately entered the fray, dueling whatever Death Eaters they could, most of them taking a Death Eater off of an Auror's hands. Hermione went towards Nymphadora, and the two ladies fought back-to-back with one another, protecting each other's blind sides. Three Death Eaters circled around them, hoping to defeat them by overpowering the ladies.
Neville Longbottom, on the other hand, ran the other way, attacking a Death Eater who had just killed a Hit Wizard; the seven Hit Wizards that were on duty that night, Harry not being one of them, had arrived with the Aurors. The Death Eater turned his way, throwing up a shield charm to block the stunner that Neville had sent. Then, with a twirl of his wand, the Death Eater sent out a blasting hex that Neville defended against swiftly, throwing another stunner the Death Eater's way in response.
The Death Eater was a tall and lumbering fellow, and wore a bony mask over his face. His hood had fallen down during his duel with the Hit Wizard before, giving Neville a clear view of his dark blond hair that was matted down to his head in a mix of sweat and melted snow. With his hulking stature, the tallest one fighting on either side, a few inches taller than Harry who was the second tallest person there, Neville thought he recognized the Death Eater, but couldn't be sure with the mask obscuring the wizard's identity. As he was pondering that fact, however, the Death Eater sent a curse straight at Neville that hit him in the shoulder, gashing it open with crunching force.
Neville fell to the ground, his wand flying nearly twenty feet away from him, out of reach without magical assistance. The Death Eater, who revealed himself as Thorfinn Rowle as he took off his mask, inched closer to his downed opponent, a vicious smirk forming on his now mask-less face. "It's a shame that pure blood such as yours, Longbottom, has to be spilt." Rowle mocked, as he lifted his wand to give the killing curse with no hesitation. "But, then again, your blood would just create weaklings, and that's something we don't want."
Then, from out of the darkness, came another Death Eater, who raised his wand tip to Rowle's back; the tip was alight with blue energy, and the energy crackled like lightning. The Death Eater jabbed his taser-like wand into Rowle's back, and the man hollered as he arched his back in pain, his eyes rolling back into their sockets. Electricity began to wash over him in waves, and his body started to convulse; the Death Eater only let up his attack as Rowle went limp and unconscious, allowing the brute to fall to the ground.
Neville finally saw just who it was that saved him. His eyes bulged when he recognized it to be Rabastan Lestrange, who saved him yet again: the man had saved Neville once before, when Gibbon had sent that killing curse at him just a month ago. "Why?" He asked up at the Death Eater, who had placed his mask back upon his face and pulled his hood over his head, preventing anyone else, Death Eater and Order member alike, from knowing his identity.
Instead of answering, Rabastan swished his wand and summoned Neville's wand to the younger man, and then disapparated without saying a word. Neville rose to his feet, his mind racing, and he looked down at Rowle's body, not knowing if the man was dead or alive. He looked pretty dead as his body had yet to move since falling to the ground, but it was too dark—even with the flames that were burning the house down—to see if his chest was rising up and down as a sign of breathing. Worrying about it later, Neville gripped his wand and rushed back into battle, throwing a stunner at a Death Eater's back.
The battled carried on for another ten minutes, bodies going down by stunners, blasting hexes, and killing curses. A curse had been thrown into the flames from a Death Eater, and after a second of silence that enveloped the whole area, there was an explosion as if a bomb had gone off; flames erupted high into the air, and embers flew across the property, landing on the ground and melting the snow. Upon noticing their numbers diminishing, a Death Eater, presumably the leader of the raid, threw his wand tip into the air and released a flash of orange-yellow energy that illuminated the air above him. He then disapparated away, the other Death Eaters following right after him, some of them releasing final curses and laughter as they went. Then, emerging from the shadows that lined the long street that wound its way up to the property, a cloud of black-cloaked beings came flying towards them.
The Dementors descended down upon the group comprised of Aurors, Hit Wizards, and Order Members; an eerie chill had floated over the wizards and witches as darkness began to consume the area. Harry, leading the fray, raised his wand quickly, thinking about the happiest moments of his life, all of them being based around Nymphadora, and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!" A silver stag shot out of his wand tip and created a barrier that defended the group from the fowl beasts, preventing utter despair from gripping their hearts and minds. It chased the cloak-like monsters around, pushing them farther and farther away, their chill and darkness being repelled. The Dementors tried to fight it, but after a minute of struggling torture they flew away into the darkened night, retreating just like the Death Eaters had done.
Hermione watched as the Dementors left, then as they passed by the surrounding lands, she squinted her eyes to the shadows under a tree, where the outline of an old man appeared. "Harry," She said, quietly, elbowing him to get his attention. "Who is that?" She questioned, pointing her finger at the man. She gripped her wand tightly, preparing herself for another battle.
Harry's gaze shifted over to the man as well; he was old, with long gray hair that was partially covered by a gray and shadowy hood, though it wasn't reminiscent to Death Eater attire. The man didn't say anything, instead he turned and apparated away, leaving the area with a soft, almost inaudible pop. Harry raised an eyebrow but shrugged to Hermione, and headed over to where a Death Eater's body laid; the Death Eater he was dueling that died.
As he reached the body, he bent down on one knee and removed the metal mask, revealing the wizard's identity. It was Zacharias Smith, Stephen Cornfoot's best friend. Zacharias was one of the last descendants of Helga Hufflepuff, and he was, incidentally, the grandnephew of Hepzibah Smith, the woman Voldemort had stolen Hufflepuff's cup from. His face was pale and cold, his brown eyes still open in surprise. Harry ran a hand over them, closing them and giving the body the respect that death deserved. He looked up as he heard someone walking towards him, and gave a small smile to his wife as their eyes made contact.
Nymphadora walked over to him, and as she did she bit her lip, a small frown taking its place on her beautiful, heart-shaped face. "Lilyre's over there," Tonks said, gesturing to an area that was clear of debris. "You should go talk to him. He looks pretty bad."
Harry nodded, silently agreeing, and made his way over to the wizard; Lilyre was standing alone, his eyes staring fixedly at the destruction that was spread about the land. His home was completely burned to the ground and was nothing but rubble, and the property around the house was scorched and incinerated. The trees that were alit with flame were nothing but ash that blew in the wind. The ground was muddy and swamp-like, as the fire had melted most of the snow.
The Ministry's Obliviators had just begun to arrive, and they immediately spread out around the property and down the street, erasing the memories of whatever muggle they thought could have seen something. Noticing them, Harry hurried his pace, coming up behind the man. "Come with me, Lilyre, we'll talk." Harry whispered, gripping the man's elbow.
"We can talk here." Scowled an angry Lilyre, his eyes never leaving the burning rubble that was his house. His sorrow, hatred, and rage were almost palpable, and Harry feared that it would consume his friend entirely.
"No, we can't." Harry replied, his eyes shifting around the area. "You were throwing Unforgiveables; the Aurors will take you to Azkaban, no matter if you were fighting off Death Eaters. If we leave now to my home, Nymphadora will smooth things over and you won't even get a slap on the wrist. Come on." Harry gripped his arm, and upon seeing the slight nod of Lilyre's head, apparated them both away, arriving in front of the metal gate that guarded Harry's property.
Harry opened the gate by touching the hoof of the stag statue that was on the side, and they quietly made their way up to the house, trenching up the cobblestone path that Zeali had cleared the snow off of. "Where's Wayne?" Harry asked about Wayne Hopkins, Lilyre's best friend. As they entered the front door of the warm home, the scent of burning wood wafted through the air, hitting them with its wonderful aroma.
"He's fine." Lilyre muttered, his eyes to the ground as he followed Harry into the living room; a great big orange fire was dancing in the fireplace, creating dark shadows that danced upon the walls around the room. "He's up in the highlands with the Spungens."
Harry nodded, accepting that answer. As a member of the Order, he knew Wayne would be hearing about the attack any second now, and Harry wouldn't be surprised if he came rushing back to make sure Lilyre was okay. "How are you?" He questioned, scanning Lilyre's form; he had a few scratches and bruises, but was other wise healthy.
"My family was just murdered in front of my eyes, how do you think I am?" Lilyre snapped, falling down into the couch. Then, sighing, he rubbed his eyes and said, "I'm sorry, you didn't deserve that." He apologized, though there was something in his voice that told Harry that it wasn't completely honest, that his apology meant nothing and that it was hiding something bigger.
"Don't worry about it, it's understandable." Silence loomed for a moment or two, Harry using the time to ponder how he should go about what he was about to say. Deciding on a plan of honesty, Harry opened his mouth and said, "I want you to join the Order of the Phoenix, Lilyre. I want you to help us fight off the Death Eaters."
"Okay," Lilyre nodded, dumbly, and Harry got the feeling that the man was just saying yes to say yes, rather than really understanding the request. He ran a hand through his hair; it was wet, and snow was scattered in it still. His robes were dirty and torn, having lost the glisten of perfection that they once had. A gash ran across his leg, and blood was accumulating on his pants, dripping slowly onto the floor.
"Zeali!" Harry said quickly, and his loyal house elf appeared a second later with a pop. "Can you get some clothes out of my closet for Lilyre, and prepare the shower and some food for him?" The elf smiled and nodded, then bowed and apparated away, leaving his master. "Take a shower, clean up, get something to eat, and then we'll talk more about the Order, okay? A room in my house is yours for how ever long you want it and need it." Lilyre didn't say anything, but Harry could tell he understood. After saying his goodbyes, Harry flooed to Grimmauld place, needing to retrieve the piece of paper that would allow Lilyre access to the headquarters.
Harry strode into the first floor sitting room, where Sirius, Remus, and the Tonks' were sitting, having a late night tea. Over the past few months, with Andromeda and Ted living in Grimmauld Place, Sirius and Andromeda had gotten to renew their friendship and relationship, both seemingly loving one another like cousins should. He gave them all a wave, and walked over to Regulus' portrait, saying, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
With an odd squeak, the picture sprung open, revealing a cubby-like safe that was around four feet deep. There was a small plastic box in the center, and he grabbed it, lifting the cover up to reveal a few pieces of small, folded up paper. He grabbed one of them, putting the box back into the safe and locking it back up. Then, quietly, he said, "Lilyre Moon was attacked tonight, most of his family was killed."
Remus and the rest reared back in shock, having not expected that. "Is Lilyre okay?" The werewolf questioned, knowing the pair's friendship.
"Physically, yeah." Harry nodded, walking over to the door, where he stopped and turned towards the group. "He's at my house right now, and I'm inducting him into the Order. If I don't, I'm afraid he's going to go and try to fight every Death Eater out there and get himself killed."
"Does he need something?" Sirius offered, wondering what he could do to help. "A place to stay, maybe?"
"No," Harry shook his head, waving his godfather off. "I have more than enough room at my house." He gave them a small smile. "I'll see you all tomorrow." With a wave he left, flooing back home.
A half an hour later, Lilyre lumbered down into the kitchen, where Harry and Tonks were sitting, drinking a cup of tea and eating a late night snack; neither would be able to sleep very much that night. His hair was still damp, and Harry's clothes were a little too big—though they still fit him. He gave them both a nod as he took a seat, pouring himself a glass of milk from the pitcher that Zeali had put in the middle of the table.
"How are you feeling, Lilyre?" Tonks asked, stirring her tea with a spoon absentmindedly. "I'm sorry for your loss; I just wish we could have gotten there sooner."
"Yeah," Lilyre replied, quietly, not saying anything else. He took a sip of his milk, wiping his mouth with a napkin after putting his glass down.
"Well, I know this doesn't make up for what you lost, but Voldemort lost six Death Eaters tonight: one of them, Zacharias Smith, we found dead; three were stunned; one was bleeding out onto the ground, left for dead by the others; and finally, the biggest catch of the night, Thorfinn Rowle was so badly electrocuted that he couldn't even string together a complete sentence." Nymphadora relayed, shivering at the thought of Rowle's decrepit body slightly. Death and destruction was not something that she liked, and in these dark times it seemed like that was all that was around. If it wasn't for Harry and the time they spent together alone in their home, she didn't know if she would have the strength to keep on going.
"Zacharias Smith?" Lilyre grunted, laughingly. "I always thought he'd become a Death Eater." He sneered, remembering how arrogant and pompous the man was about his blood purity.
"Yeah," Harry nodded, silently agreeing with that statement. Sure, initially he was shocked, but after decompressing and thinking it over, he couldn't help but see that Zacharias being a Death Eater was the most obvious thing in the world: the guy thought his pureblood, that dated back to one of the founders, was a reason to exalt and worship him. He shook his head briefly, getting those thoughts out of his mind, knowing that there were topics of great importance to discuss. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the slip of paper that had Sirius' writing on it, put it on the table and pushed it towards Lilyre. "Remember that address. Once you do, you'll officially be in the Order of the Phoenix."
The other wizard looked down at the note, reading and remembering it. "Yeah, about that…WHY DIDN'T YOU ASK ME TO JOIN THE ORDER BEFORE ALL OF THIS? I'm just as good of a wizard as most of the people in it." Lilyre spat angrily, his eyes filled with nothing but rage as he stared at Harry. The blood in his body rushed upwards, tinting his neck and face a bright shade of red. "Am I not your friend? Did you not trust me?"
Harry sighed, his shoulders dropping as he looked over at his house elf—Zeali had screeched at the loudness of Lilyre's voice, clearly startled and a little scared. "I didn't ask you because you were helping our cause more by not being here than you would be able to help if you were here. We have spies within the ranks of Voldemort, Lilyre, and by you not being here, it makes people question if that spy was you, taking heat off of whom the spies really are. I'm sorry, my friend, but I made the choice to basically use you, knowing that it would help us out more."
"What about Wayne?" Lilyre questioned, still angry but understanding of the situation. In these dark times, desperate measures had to be taken to protect the greater good. Sure, he lost some trust with Harry, but he still considered the wizard his friend; their relationship would go back to normal when the Dark Lord was dead and gone. "Why didn't he get to join the Order?"
Harry bit his lip, nervously. What he was about to say could severely anger Lilyre, and he didn't want to have to fight with his friend; he knew some tact would be needed. "Wayne is in the Order. He joined with Tynan Davis a little over a month ago. The reason why he joined so late, however, was for same reason you didn't before now, Lilyre." Harry answered honestly. "It kept open the possibilities that one of you was the spy, protecting the real one. "
"Wayne's a halfblood, though, he would never be able to be a Death Eater." Lilyre cocked an eyebrow, almost disbelieving of Harry's story, trying to find a flaw in it. Then, shaking his head, he said, "Tynan Davis? Seriously?"
"Ha," Harry laughed, and snidely added, "There are a lot more halfbloods in the ranks of the Death Eaters than people know, Lilyre. Voldemort himself is only a halfblood." A surprised gasp was heard from Lilyre; his eyes went wide with shock at Harry's proclamation, making a small smile cross Harry's face.
Meanwhile, in the stone room that served as Voldemort's meeting place, the Dark Lord was sneering down at one of his Death Eaters. His wand twirled in his long, spider-like fingers, almost mockingly. "You failed me yet again, Draco." Voldemort scathed down to the bowing Malfoy; Death Eaters were circled around them, watching with bemused looks upon their faces—Draco Malfoy was not well liked within their circles.
"What to do, what to do." Voldemort muttered, his left hand reaching up and scratching his chin, casually. Draco's eyes darted around the room, moving from the Dark Lord to the exit that was on the other side; the door was opened just a little, allowing a thin stream of light to enter. His body was shaking in fear, though he would not admit how truly terrified he was.
"So, as we all know, the Moons were attacked last night." Harry murmured as the Order meeting came to a start, his eyes were planted on the wooden table that was in front of him. "I have invited Lilyre into our fold, and he has accepted. Unfortunately, due to the events that transpired late last night, he is off taking care of the family matters that need to be taken care of so he will obviously not be coming today.
The Order discussed what happened to the Moons, and possible plans to qualm Voldemort's attacks. They decided to have Shacklebolt meet with Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Gawain Robards, the leader of the Magical Law Enforcement and Auror Squads, and Pius Thicknesse, the Head of the Hitwizard Squads, to discuss an action plan; it would have to be approved by Amelia Bones, the Minister of Magic, but between the four, an arrangement would be made that protected the greatest number of people possible. Then they moved onto discussing Hogwarts, with Minerva McGonagall filling in information about what was happening there to the members who hadn't heard yet. She was clearly overwhelmed, as she seemed aged and frazzled, but even so, she still held the appearance of being a strong, noble, and intelligent witch.
"Excuse me, sirs," Dobby said, hesitantly as he appeared in the room with a soft pop. He was wearing a large black sweater, with a knit hat and matching blue socks; all of which he had made on his own.
"Yes, what is it, Dobby?" Sirius asked, pleasantly, wondering what his loyal house elf wanted. Very rarely did Dobby ever appear in the basement when a meeting was going on, not wanting to get in the way; he usually came down after the meeting was over to serve food and drinks up.
"Dobby begs your forgiveness," The house elf began, thrusting his hands into his sweatshirt. "But a letter has come for master Barnaud from an owl!" Dobby snapped his fingers and the letter that was in his hand disappeared, reappearing on the table in front of Desperaux.
The French wizard looked down at the letter, not recognizing the handwriting. Noticing the stares, he cleared his throat, saying, "I'm sorry. I don't know who would have sent me a letter, the only people who would send me one, know not to for fear of it being tracked to here and disclosing our location."
"It's no problem, really," Harry answered, swishing his hand. "Death Eaters won't be able to find this place, ever. I've made sure of that."
Despereaux smiled and quietly opened up the envelope. Taking out the piece of parchment and creasing it open, his eyes quickly scrolled down to the bottom, seeing whose name was there. Surprisingly, it was his father, Rabastan Lestrange. Holding in the incredible amount of anger at the gall of the man that was threatening to overtake him, he read the short, two-line note.
I am sorry. I want to talk.
"The wards didn't take a hit after Dumbledore died, did they?" Tynan Davis asked, curiously, interrupting Despereaux's reading. As he was the brother of Tracey Davis—Harry's girlfriend before he met Nymphadora—and a friend of Theodore Nott's, Harry had accepted Tynan's proposal to help and invited him into the Order; the pair was by no means friends but they did get along. The man mostly gathered information about the wizarding world in general, and rarely ever participated more than that.
"No," Harry replied, seemingly absentmindedly; inwardly, however, he was cocking an eyebrow. The meeting continued for another half an hour, the Order going over the plans for various missions that would be needed. Remus gave some more intel about the werewolf packs and their decisions on what to do. Greyback had swayed some werewolves to Voldemort's side, but most of the rest of the packs had decided to stay neutral, not taking either's side. "Well, if that's all, this meeting is adjourned." Harry said, calling it to a close.
The members picked up their things, and began to make their up the stairs and out of the basement; only Harry, Cedric, Sirius, Hermione, and Bill Weasley were at the table, all not having moved. "You guys," Harry began, taking a look at the rest of the bunch. "You guys are the most powerful wizards and," He smiled at Hermione. "Witch, that I know. I need to take on another project of sorts these next few weeks, so I'm counting on you to help me out with the Order. Is that okay?"
They all nodded, with Sirius being the only one to mutter a "Yes, of course." They all rose and trekked up the stairs to meet up with the others that were waiting above them. Smalls groups were cluttered about the first floor, talking and laughing, sharing stories and jokes as they began to make their way home.
Off in the corner, Cedric, Viktor, Roger, Wayne, and the Weasley twins all stood in a circle on the other side of the room, conversing quietly amongst themselves. "If it's not Lilyre, then who is it?" Cedric whispered, his eyes slowly moving over to Kylie. The rest moved their vision over to the man, too, as they all stared at his back, wondering just who it was underneath that cloak. Cedric would have bet anything on it being Lilyre, and now that he knew it wasn't, he had no idea who it could have been; a thought that made a shiver run down his spine. If there was one thing Kylie was good at it was covering his tracks, which made Cedric hope that Harry knew what he was doing.
"I know who you are." Snape muttered, lowly, walking past the man that the group was just talking about. "Using your mother's maiden name as a code name was clever, kept me from finding out the truth for all of this time. You were good enough to make me think that you were a first generation Death Eater, one from the old war, but you're not…I was your teacher for seven years, do you really think I wouldn't figure it out sooner or later?"
Kylie stopped walking, but didn't turn around to face Snape. "So, what of it?" The silky Death Eater gave a smile and an ominous laugh, but said no more, instead walking away from Kylie, leaving the wizard with a perplexed look on his shadowy face.
It was around nine o'clock that night that found Harry in his workroom, sitting at his workbench reading a note that Dumbledore had left him. It gave him instructions on the general area of where he thought the cave was, and by comparing it to a map, Harry was able to find the exact location. As he hovered above the parchment he was taking notes on, he heard a ringing in his ear, like a bell was going off in the distance. His hands shot up to his ears, covering them for a few seconds before he realized the sound was coming from the desk's top drawer, where the Deathly Hallows laid.
With one hand covering his ear, his other hand reached down and opened the drawer. The Elder Wand sat there in its purple cloth, vibrating violently. He tentatively reached down and picked up the black piece of wood, wanting to stop the ringing. Once the wand touched his skin, a burning sensation rippled over his left shoulder blade and the vibrating stopped. It felt as if something was being drawn into his back, like a tattoo artist would a muggle tattoo. After a few more seconds of burning, the feeling stopped just as the ringing had, leaving Harry utterly confused. He studied the wand; going over its every part with his eyes, before covering it back over with its cloth and placing it back into the drawer. With a small bang, he closed the drawer and left the room, all the while thinking about what just transpired.