Disclaimer: Yeah, Harry Potter used to be mine... then it slipped from my fingers, a long time ago. So long ago, I can't remember it.

A/N: WOO! I'm back, after a nice long, erm, 4 month vacation. *Cough*. Don't murder me yet, alright? I've been crazy busy with school! I would like to thank last chapter's reviewers: Valid User Name, LillyRose95, James018, Kirby77DP77, T, MCross, Cowabunga, TwilightsCalling, The Dark Lordess KARRRRMA, harrypotterisamazing, tobystephensfan, Elita One, harrylovesginny5, firehottie, QueenOfSparrabeth, JustAnotherParallelDimension, pianoplayerrxoxo, Queen of Crystallopia, Krrosec, and twilightpotterxoxo.

It Ends Now

Part 32: "Suspicions: Part 2"

When the portkey deposited Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny into Grimmauld kitchen, they were mauled almost immediately by a frantic Madam Pomfrey. With intuition born of medical prowess, the woman made a lunge for pale Ginny and ushered her away for greater privacy. Before closing the door, the nurse sent a look at the Golden Trio that clearly warned them all not to disappear because they were next. Silence reigned for a few seconds after Pomfrey and Ginny's steps faded.

Ron fell bonelessly into a chair at the table and laid his red head in his arms. "How could this have happened?" he moaned, the query muffled. "The Burrow..."

Harry sighed, leaning against the wall and fingering at the various painful lacerations on his hands as he listened to his friends theorize.

"You heard what Dumbledore said. The wards fell," Hermione put in matter-of-factly. Ron sat up, grimacing at her.

"Yeah, but there's more to the story, isn't there? He called a 'special' meeting, and we're invited. That means it must be bad," the teen responded.

"Or really important," Harry added, mind elsewhere. What had that raw power been? He'd experienced it before, when dementors attacked he and Hagrid in the Forest. It hadn't felt like accidental magic; not really... this had been more focused, and he'd been aware of it... goading it on, even. The Boy-Who-Lived started as a memory of one of the prophecy's lines came to mind.

He will have power the Dark Lord knows not...

Could this...?

Madam Pomfrey popped back into the kitchen at this most inconvenient moment, choosing to whisk Harry away second. After eyeballing the last two, she escorted the seeker upstairs and into the living room, mothering and fussing all the while.

"Ooh, just look at your hands- poor child, and magic burns too; were you caught in an explosion? Don't worry, I can mend these in an instant- and are you limping? How did you injure your foot? Oh dear, it's sprained, tut tut," Pomfrey rambled, mostly to herself for every time Harry opened his mouth, she'd changed topics. Instead, he just let her work, wordlessly reclined on the sofa as she examined his appendages. A few swishes of her wand later, Harry felt fully healed.

"Anything else I should be informed of?" the mediwitch finally inquired, straightening up and placing her hands on her hips. Harry, who had been admiring her handiwork by flexing the joints of his fingers and foot, started.

"Oh, um... Dumbledore wanted you to check for concussion. He, er... flung me into a tree."

"Flung you into a tree!? Ooh, when I get my hands on the Headmaster-"

"Er, well I was being 'reckless'-" Harry tried to explain, though his assuagement seemed to have little effect on the matron. After fussing over the egg on Harry's head and performing a few tests, the woman finally deemed Harry healthy with naught but a warning about overexerting himself any time soon.

"Now I want you to head straight off to bed," she said. "You're exhausted, both physically and magically. Your body needs rest to heal."

"But Dumbledore wanted me at an Order meeting-" Harry protested.

"I'm sure the Headmaster will have no qualms over you napping before then, Potter. Don't worry, your friends are receiving the same prognosis. The Order is going to be a while yet, anyways. Now rest."

Harry sighed grudgingly. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

He skulked off to the stairwell, watching as Pomfrey bustled down to retrieve another patient. She was still ranting under her breath something that sounded suspiciously like, "Flung into a tree, of all things...", accompanied by various foul oaths. Harry chuckled; he didn't desire to be Dumbledore when the mediwitch got her hands on him! There was a flash of long red hair in the hallway upstairs, and Harry bounded the steps to intercept the girl to whom the tresses belonged to. Clothed in fuzzy blue pajamas, Ginny smiled as the sixth year approached.

"Clean bill of health?"

"Yep. All healed," Harry grinned, showing off with his previously sprained ankle. "You?"

"Well, I'm still a little sore, but Madam Pomfrey said the nerves would require a couple more potions before I'd feel totally normal again. She commented that the first time experiencing the Cruciatus is always the worst." Ginny grew somber. "I don't know how you do it, Harry."

"What?" Harry pressed, puzzled at the sudden change in mood.

"Endure the Cruciatus, like you did today. I'm still in pain, and you managed to fight it off like it was nothing!"

"Well, practice does make perfect," the boy replied darkly. "And I didn't fight it off. I just didn't scream. Giving Voldemort that satisfaction... well, I just refused to open my mouth, I guess."

"That's still commendable," Ginny smiled wryly. "I don't remember feeling like I had control of any part of my body! God, I wanted to die. That was worse than being possessed!"

"Be lucky you don't have a connection with Voldemort. Otherwise, being possessed would hurt a lot more," Harry muttered, shuffling uncomfortably. He toed a loose floorboard as Ginny sighed. She shifted closer to him.

"I admire your courage so much, Harry. How brave you were today... I wish I could be like that," the fifth year whispered, and Harry gazed with surprise into her hazel-brown eyes. They were intense with heartfelt confession, and Harry realized she was sharing with him one of her deepest insecurities. He was immediately touched at the trust she found in him not to disparage or divulge her secret.

"You already are, Ginny."

She beamed, flushing, and Harry had to resist a strange urge to inch nearer to feel the warmth emanating off her face. "You tease!"

"No, really! You've done so much already, and not just through the DA. You've taken on Death Eaters, and now Voldemort himself! And you didn't run, either. You stood up to him and his followers. You upheld the ideals of the Light. That's more than many aurors can say," Harry told her earnestly.

She paused. "You're... you're right." The revelation gave Ginny food for thought, and as she stared into space in the hallway, Harry took the opportunity to wish her goodnight and slink off to bed. Loathed as he was to admit it, Pomfrey was right. He was exhausted.

oOo

When Harry next opened his eyes, it was to a darkened bedroom. The blinds had been drawn shut, and Ron was snoring loudly in the bed across from him. Feeling mercifully refreshed, Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed and quietly traversed the floor to the dresser, pulling on a crimson caftan that served as a bathrobe. After a moment of indecision as Harry debated whether to wake the boy or not, the seeker settled on leaving Ron to rest. He had, after all, just lived through a traumatic experience and needed the peace sleep induced. Moving over to the door, Harry slipped soundlessly out and into the hallway. Hermione and Ginny's door was wide open, Crookshanks wreaking havoc with the mauve rug just inside. Harry smirked at the sight, then continued on downstairs and into the kitchen. He paused when all the adults positioned around the table turned to stare at him. Apparently, the Order meeting had already begun, with Ginny and Hermione paying rapt attention from their seats next to Mrs. Weasley.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore greeted from the head. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, sir. Er... Ron was still sleeping and I decided to leave him be. Is that okay?"

"Perfectly understandable," the wizened mage nodded, and Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly at Harry. Dumbledore gestured to an empty chair on his left, next to Remus Lupin. "Please take a seat, Harry."

Harry complied, taking the offered chair nervously as Remus patted his shoulder genially. How should one conduct themselves at an Order meeting? He reckoned it was not unlike school, in a way, with Dumbledore acting as teacher. When aforementioned Headmaster cleared his throat, Harry quickly glanced around the table. He wondered why there were so few members present, but knew Dumbledore would probably address this issue in time. He was right- it was the first subject broached.

"First of all, I would like to welcome Harry, Hermione, and Ginny to the Order of the Phoenix's meeting. I am sure they will prove to be valuable assets to this discussion as we deliberate on what went wrong today and how to deal with the numerous repercussions involved."

Hermione blushed, Ginny grinned, and Harry fidgeted a little more. Valuable assets? Did Dumbledore think they would have useful knowledge to bring to the table? The boy wracked his brain for something important he may have overlooked, and came up empty. Although... would Dumbledore mention Harry's mysterious display of wild magic? The seeker blushed. He hoped not. The story itself was quite embarrassing- Snape would have a field day! Speaking of the overgrown bat, Harry glanced down at the other end of the table for said man. Finding him, Harry saw that Snape looked disgruntled, albeit admittedly interested. His obsidian eyes shifted to notice Harry watching him. Caught in the act, Harry decided staring at his knees was a much safer route than maintaining eye contact with the ex-Death Eater. Mind invasion and all that...

"Secondly, I know many of you are probably very confused as to why our numbers are so low tonight. This is my doing. I have called only my most trusted confidantes, and for this reason-" Here Dumbledore's voice become heavy and sorrowful, the twinkle all but gone from his eyes- "I believe... there is... a traitor in our midst."

Stunned silence followed this pronouncement until Professor McGonagall murmured in shock, "A traitor, Albus?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt shook his head in denial. "It can't be possible, Albus. It can't! We've taken so many precautions- and the Burrow's wards! Mr. and Mrs. Weasley-"

"Precisely," Dumbledore cut in, leaving Harry reeling for answers. What did Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have to do with the wards? He remembered this being mentioned previously to him, but the possibilities still left the sixteen-year-old curious. "Only an Order member could have brought down the wards; we all know this."

"Excuse me, sir," Hermione intoned shyly. "But... what if an Order member didn't bring down the wards? Couldn't Voldemort have simply overpowered the enchantment?"

Snape snorted, and the Headmaster threw him a look of warning before answering, "A very good question, Hermione. I suppose I ought to take the time to explain for you, Ginny, and Harry the gist of the protection wards, shouldn't I?"

A/N: Aaaaand, you'll have to wait until next chapter to hear Dumbledore's explanation. I am WAY too tired *yawn*. Please review, and stay tuned- chapter 33 "Blood" will be along shortly! With multiple meanings *eyebrow squiggle*.

AngelMoon Girl