Harry Potter and The Fate We Make
Chapter 7: Organizing and Orders.
A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.
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July 4, 1995
That first full moon had been awful, in a lot of ways. Sirius had made Harry promise to stay on the second floor, in his room, and had warded the stairs as a secondary precaution. Still, despite them being in the basement, Harry'd been able to hear Remus transform. It'd been bad, that time at the end of third year, but Harry had kind of been distracted, what with time travel, Snape, Pettigrew and a host of other factors. Just sitting there that night and listening to Remus cry out in agonizing pain ... that had been bad. And Harry'd not seen hide nor hair of Remus until almost dinnertime next day, not that he blamed Remus.
This particular morning, Harry got rousted out of bed rather rudely by the sound of multiple voices, a huge crash and Mrs. Black screaming imprecations (Dobby and Winky hadn't managed to get rid of her yet. They were still cleaning and fixing.) The racket was such that Harry more or less catapulted out of bed and almost blasted his door off its hinges in his sleep-muddled confusion. Then, one of the voices penetrated his sleepy mind. It sounded an awful lot like Ron.
Harry pulled on some clothes, jammed his wand in his back pocket, and, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, shuffled down the stairs. He stopped halfway down and blinked. The front hall was a sea of redheads. It looked, as a matter of fact, like the entirety of the Weasley clan was here. Harry even spotted Bill in the melee.
"What ... are you guys ok? What happened?"
It was Ginny, who happened to be closest to the stairs, that answered. "Nothing. Everyone's fine. Mum just thought we could help clean and repair this place."
"Oh." Harry said, then gave his head a last shake to get rid of the sleepiness. "Does she know Dobby and Winky are here?"
"I think so, but I guess she thought they'd need help. Sirius said this place was a wreck."
"It was." Harry said. "You should have seen it. First floor and second're mostly ok now, thanks to Winky and Dobby, but the basement and third floor need working on yet."
It wasn't until the Weasleys had got themselves straightened out and organized that Harry realized more than the Weasleys had invaded the house. A woman about Bill's age with bright pink hair was standing near the front door, next to Moody and a tall black man. Moody gave him a nod before the three of them disappeared into the kitchen.
They were not the only arrivals over the next half hour. Harry didn't know most of them, but he spotted Mrs. Figg at one point. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape all arrived together, though Snape rather looked like he was trying to pretend he hadn't arrived with them. About then, Sirius came down the stairs.
"What's going on?" Harry asked.
"Ahh, looks like the inaugural Order meeting." Sirius said, sneering at Snape's back.
"Order meeting?"
"Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore put it together last time, to help deal with Voldemort. Now he's got a body again, Dumbledore's called the old gang together ... and recruited a few new faces along the way."
"Good thing I've nothing better to do today." Harry said, heading for the kitchen. He heard Sirius chuckle behind him. He was greeted by Molly.
"Good morning, dear. Sleep well?" She asked.
Harry grinned. "Yeah, at least until someone woke up the painting, anyway."
"Sorry about that!" This came from the pink-haired woman, who walked over. "M'name's Tonks. Sirius is my cousin." She said, offering a hand.
Harry shook it. "Nice to meet you." He grabbed a plate of food and plonked himself down at the table. While he ate, he listened to the chat, but it seemed to be largely inconsequential. Remus came in, and then Sirius, and a few minutes after that, Dumbledore walked in. Harry glowered at him.
Molly got to her feet and started clearing empty plates. "Harry dear, why don't you run along upstairs and catch up with Ron?"
Harry shook his head. "No. I'm staying for the meeting."
To say that put the kneazel among the snidgets was an understatement. Dumbledore frowned. So did many of the adults Harry didn't know. And most of them expressed their displeasure vocally. Molly? Molly fairly exploded. Harry took quiet note of who wasn't howling at him. Sirius and Remus of course, Tonks, Moody, and, oddly enough, Snape. A few others were keeping their mouths shut, but it seemed more because they were reluctant to get in the middle of things. McGonagall and Flitwick both looked torn.
"The cheek!"
"Begone, boy!"
"You're just a child!"
That last came from Molly, and Harry finally decided to put his two cents in. "ENOUGH!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. "Look, I'm not asking to be sent on missions or whatever. I just want to sit in on the meetings and know what's going on. I need to know. I may be young, but Voldemort really doesn't care. He's come after me all the same. He's made this my fight, whether I want it to be or not."
Dumbledore sighed. "Very well, Harry. But I must ask you not to ... "
Harry had a feeling he knew where that was going. "No. What I know, they know. Hermione, Ron and Ginny especially have earned the right. They've been there. They'll probably be there again. Thanks to the junior death eaters, he's bound to know they're my friends. They're targets the same as I am."
Molly looked less than pleased with that, but Dumbledore looked resigned.
"The boy has a point." Harry nearly fell off his chair when he realized that it was Snape, of all people, speaking in his defense. He gave the dour man a thankful nod.
It took a few minutes, but eventually the meeting got underway. Most of it was rather dry and uninteresting ... who they had where, who might be recruitable, which creatures they could sway to their side. There was no mention of any attacks ... yet. Harry had little hope that would last. The important information was the names of the people in the room. When the meeting broke up, Harry headed for the professors and the Headmaster, as they'd grouped together.
"Professor Snape?" Harry said. "Pettigrew used a potion to bring him back. I remember what he said as he was adding stuff. Could there be a way to slow him down or something, maybe, because of that?"
Snape glowered at him for a moment, before reluctantly nodding. "It might be possible." He allowed.
So Harry quoted the words he'd probably never forget as long as he lived, they'd got burned so deep into his brain, and told Snape what had been added at each step. Snape got a hooded look on his face and took off without another word. Harry took a deep breath and turned to Flitwick. "Professor? Back in third year, Hermione mentioned you were a Duelling Master. I was wondering if you'd be willing to teach me? I keep ending up having to fight for my life."
Flitwick fairly bounced. "Of course, Mr. Potter." He squeaked. "It would be my pleasure." He grinned. "I assume you would prefer your friends to join you?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah, but I'm not entirely sure Mrs. Weasley will let them. Hermione at least will be able to."
Flitwick nodded. "I shall return tomorrow, and we can begin then." He said, and headed towards the parlour and the floo.
McGonagall gave Harry a rather amused look. "I dare say that some of my talents are, shall we say, redundant?" Harry grinned at her, knowing she meant becoming an animagus. She knew Sirius was likely to take care of that. "But I will be more than happy to give you extra tutelage this summer. Transfiguration can be used to good effect in a fight."
Harry nodded. "I really appreciate it, Professor." Then she too left. Leaving Harry with Dumbledore. For several long moments, there was silence while Harry debated what to say and how to say it. Finally, he opted for. "So. Anything else you haven't told me? Other than the prophecy, I mean." Let's see if the old coot fesses up.
Which he didn't. Dumbledore shook his head. "Nothing comes immediately to mind."
Harry nearly exploded. "Nothing? Like, Potter Vaults nothing? Like 'Potter Manor' nothing? Who gave you the right ... " Harry flailed an arm, and jumped a mile when some of the plates by the sink went flying and shattered into a million pieces. He took a deep breath, fighting to get his temper under control, and leveled and arctic glare at Dumbledore. "I do not want your nose in any of my personal business EVER again for any reason, I want you to turn over anything else you may oh-so-conveniently be 'holding' for me, like you had the cloak, and you'd better be a whole lot more forthcoming with information in general. Because if I didn't know better, I'd think you wanted Voldemort to win, the way you've been going."
Dumbledore reacted like he'd been suckerpunched. "I assure you Harry ... " He started, his voice as shaken as his expression.
"Assure all you want. Your actions don't exactly agree with your mouth." Harry snapped. "Get it through your head. I am not five years old. Shite, I was never five years old. I am also, apparently, the only one who can fix a little problem named Voldemort. Keeping me untrained and ignorant is kind of counterproductive to that cause."
That said, Harry stormed off, up the stairs. It wasn't until he got to his room that he started to shake from a combination of nerves and anger and adrenaline. A few moments later, there was a quiet knock on his door.
"You ok, pup? Heard most of your little chat with Dumbledore."
Harry glanced over at Sirius. "I'll be all right, Sirius. I'm just really mad."
Sirius walked over and sat next to him on the bed. "Merlin knows you've a right to be. Dumbledore's made a right hash of things. Just try not to run him off with his tail between his legs until after you've got what you want, right?"
Harry gave a shaky laugh. "You've got a point."
"Anyway, my visit has many purposes. Minerva and Filius said you'd asked for extra training?" Harry nodded in confirmation. "Filius said he'd be here directly after breakfast tomorrow, and Minerva's laid claim to the afternoon. You're probably going to have to set up a schedule with them tomorrow."
"Yeah, I kind of figured. And I need to write Neville. Ron said he'd ... hey, wait. The Blacks were a big-name family. Can you teach me that stuff?"
"That stuff? Lordee, but my mother'd be rolling in her grave hearing it called that." Sirius said, collapsing backward on the bed as he laughed. After a few moments, he sat up. "Unfortunately, I can't. I mean, I know the rules and regs, well, most of them, as regards the Blacks, but you've got to remember, the Blacks were most definitely not on the side of the good guys, and their ... ways ... reflected that. Longbottom'd be a far better choice. Augusta, Neville's grandmother, is a force to be reckoned with. I can fill you in on the sneakier, Slytherin ploys that Malfoy and his ilk will be likely to pull, though."