HARRY POTTER AND THE UNFORGIVEN

A Sixth Year Harry Potter Fanfiction

BY

Jayiin Mistaya

"Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus."

...never tickle a sleeping dragon


COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Those rights are held, exclusively, by JK Rowling, and any other entities, corporations, subsidiaries, or groups not named here possessing legal rights to the aforementioned books and/or trademark.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to everyone who has been reading, even if you haven't reviewed, and especially to those people who have me on author alert or favorites.

More information on Harry Potter and the Unforgiven can be found at my website, which is linked in my Author Profile.

Feedback of any kind is always appreciated.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Thanks to Elusive Evan for making me continue to post this.


CHAPTER FOUR

The Order of the Phoenix

The only thing that travels faster than rumors is bad news.

One by one, they made their way to the Burrow to find out if the whispers everyone seemed to be hearing were rumors or bad news. Rumors could be dealt with, even used to their advantage. Bad news meant the Order was fighting a war on two fronts.

One by one, the Order of the Phoenix arrived until there were too many of them to be contained in the Burrow's kitchen, and they spilled out onto the porch and into the yard. They were teachers and former students, Aurors and ministry officials, reporters and spies, magical creatures and squibs.

The first morning of summer vacation, Ron and Ginny were the only two people at the Burrow who were not members of the Order. As such, Professor Snape (who thought it safer to not know what the Order discussed) escorted them to breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron.

Albus Dumbledore, Mad-Eye Moody and Bill Weasley set wards around the Burrow; Aurors and house-elves searched every inch of the Weasley's property and pronounced it safe.

A long table, complete with comfortable padded chairs, was conjured in the front yard. House-elves loyal to Dumbledore provided refreshment, much to Molly Weasley's outspoken dismay.

Early in the morning hours, the Order of the Phoenix convened.

Seated at the head of the table, Dumbledore waited for the murmur of voices to quiet before he stood and smiled.

"Welcome, all of you. It is always a joy to see one's colleagues so pro-active as to call and attend a meeting without the formalities of sending around a memo."

There were a few smiles, but the tense anticipation killed the weak humor as if it had been struck by Avada Kedavra.

"Today is an auspicious day." Dumbledore spread his hands wide. "It is the first day of summer vacation for Hogwarts' students and staff. Many of our more prominent members are now far freer to act. And, I fear, we will sorely need their time and skills."

Dumbledore rested his hands on the table. "It is true. Cornelius Fudge has already reneged on the agreement he made the night of the attack on the Department of Mysteries. Through an act of law, he has ordered us disbanded and declared the Order itself illegal. Those of you who wish to respect this decree are free to leave and do as you will. No one here will stop you."

Dumbledore sat, and waited. Long minutes of silence drug on before one of the Weasley twins ended it.

"You know none of us agree with that windbag! Get on with the plan, already!"

There were a few chuckles, even though Molly glared at the twins, but the tension had broken.

"The plan, Misters Weasley, is very simple. We no longer have official recognition or support, eliminating any legitimate means to obtain money and support beyond what we can provide to ourselves."

Mundungus Fletcher puffed on his foul-smelling pipe. "Which means, ladies n' gents, that we acquire ourselves some less than strictly legitimate means, right Albus?"

"Indeed, Mundungus. That is precisely what I propose. But first, we must address the larger issue of Cornelius Fudge. He is proving a greater threat than we imagined."

Tonks leaned back in her chair and swung her booted feet up onto the table. "He sure moved fast. Got that Decree out and Dolores Umbridge back to work before the sun set yesterday. I saw her paying a visit to 4 Privet Drive last afternoon."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. The Minister moved with remarkable speed and efficiency. In the hours between his parting with me and the train's arrival at King's Cross, Fudge has managed to wrest control of Harry from us."

Bill and Tonks shared a look. They had been the ones to get the Owl from Harry telling them what Umbridge had done. They'd sent it on to Dumbledore, of course, but it was starting to look like there was nothing they could do to help him without going head-to-head with the Ministry.

There was a clamor of voices as everyone tried to speak, but the sound of something large and heavy being slammed against the table caused a startled silence.

"And just how," Molly Weasley stood, her eyes ablaze, "did he manage to do that? And just what does that mean for Harry?"

Demonstrating remarkable prudence, the other members of the Order decided to remain quiet and avoid getting between Molly and Dumbledore.

"Cornelius Fudge has issued me an ultimatum." He held out his hand, and a scroll floated from his sleeve to Molly's hands. "If 'my supporters' and 'those affiliated with me' do not leave Harry Potter alone, up to and including ceasing surveillance of 4 Privet Drive, then Cornelius will declare Harry Potter a legal Ward of the State and install him in a Ministry-run orphanage for troubled youths. He sent Dolores Umbridge to Privet Drive to inform the Dursleys they are safe from our interference."

Molly was speechless for a long moment; the scroll crumpled in her hand, and she dropped it to the ground.

"I am sorry, Molly. I am sorrier than you can know." Dumbledore shook his head. "But we cannot do anything for Harry other than follow the Minister's order. We cannot risk him being taken from 4 Privet Drive too early. Nor can we risk too much attention falling on his presence there. However, one member of the Order will continue to keep an eye on Harry, under the utmost secrecy." Dumbledore nodded at Tonks. The (currently) pink-haired Auror nodded back.

"Unacceptable," Molly spat. "When can we remove him from that place, Albus? When he's as twisted as You-Know-Who? Or when those Muggles have hurt him so badly we can't fix it? We seem to be putting everything on the shoulders of one boy that we leave to be tormented by people who hate him, when there are those of us who would gladly give him a home and a family!"

A few members of the Order had the good grace to look uncomfortable with what Molly said. But most of the Order simply looked impassive or openly glared at her.

Dumbledore held up his hand, looking old and tired and worn. "Molly. Enough. The decision is made and I will brook no interference."

Molly nodded sharply, stood, and pushed in her chair. Standing behind it, she looked at Albus Dumbledore. "You may be a great teacher. A great wizard and even a great man, but you are a lousy father."

With that, she turned and stormed away.

Dumbledore did not give her final sally time to linger. "We must work carefully to undermine Fudge's authority and ability to censor our activities. Our first step is to seek aid outside the Ministry."

He looked around the table, meeting the eyes of each member in turn. "Two years ago, we began the process of forging deeper bonds between our Ministry and other nations. I believe it is now time to capitalize on those connections created during the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

Minerva McGonagall pursed her lips. "Seek aid from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons?" She shook her head. "Beauxbatons has always been an ally of the light, Albus, but Durmstrang? They have a long history of involvement with the Dark Arts."

Mad Eye grunted. "Minerva's right. We'd have to speak to each potential recruit and assess them. There aren't many of us who can do that, even with the 'extra time' you're gloating about."

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed. You are both correct, which brings me to another matter we must address. As skilled and dedicated as our membership may be, we lack certain skills and perspectives that others we have overlooked possess – such as an uncanny ability to spot Dark Wizards."

"You're talking about our students, aren't you?" Professor Vector sighed. "I know it's inevitable, but Albus..."

"Stuff it," Moody growled. "Most of those kids are involved whether we like it or not. Albus, who did you have in mind?"

"One, for the immediate future. I intend for her to accompany Minerva to Durmstrang. There are many, many others I anticipate joining our ranks before the upcoming school term is over – but that is a discussion for another time."

"It's Hermione, isn't it?" George Weasley interjected.

Albus Dumbledore nodded. "Very good, Mr Weasley."

Fred snorted. "Easy call. Smartest witch I know, and the only way we'd get her to play by Order rules is to make her part of the Order. And if she follows the rules, it's more likely Harry and Ron will."

"Exactly so," Dumbledore said. "Though any influence she has on Harry and Mr Weasley is an incidental benefit next to her own formidable skills."

"What about students who are potential threats, Albus?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked. "I know there are any number of potential Death Eaters that have already been identified, but are there others who might be loyal to Fudge or otherwise compromised?"

Albus looked from face to face, his expression growing grave and somber. The twinkle faded from his eyes.

"There is one. She is, in fact, the final piece of business for us to discuss – I shall tell you a story you may have heard before. And then, my friends, I must ask more of you than I have ever asked before."

- 0 -

Ron sullenly poked at his breakfast.

Ginny glared at her brother and glanced sidelong at Professor Snape sitting a table away from them.

"Just eat," she whispered. "We can't do a thing about it, so we may as well enjoy our meal."

She understood why he was upset. She didn't like being kept from the Order meeting any more than he did, but she had a sneaking suspicion she was more used to being out of the loop than Ron was.

"It's just bloody well not fair." Ron pushed his plate away. "It's not like any of them will end up facing him, you know." His voice was calmer than Ginny expected it to be.

"What do you mean? Dumbledore has faced him, more than once!"

"So? He's Dumbledore." Ron drained half his mug of pumpkin juice, and shook his head. "It won't be me, or any of them. It'll be Harry. Or you."

"What are you talking about, you prat?" Ginny hissed at her brother, leaning closer to him and watching Snape to make sure the potions professor wasn't eavesdropping on their conversation – and trying to hide the fear Ron's statement had awakened in her. "Me? I'm not going to face Tom. Harry, yeah, I agree with. He's already faced him. But not me."

I can't face him again. I'm not strong enough.

"Look, he's only ever come after a few people, at least personally." Ron poured himself more juice. "For some reason I can't figure, he's been all about killing Harry." He paused, and swallowed hard. "And he has a part of you, remember?"

Ginny frowned, and pushed her plate up next to her brother's. She didn't feel like eating anymore.

"Of course I remember. Dumbledore told me at the end of term my first year, that no matter what, Tom Riddle and I would always share a part of each other. That I should be careful. So yeah, I know. But what does that have to do with who 'faces' him, Ron?"

"Everything. The Order is just a bunch of people desperately holding the line until someone can get strong enough to defeat him, for good. And it'll be you, or Harry. I know it."

Ginny shook her head. "You're daft, Ron."

Her brother's blue eyes just fixed on her, and she shivered. Despite her attempt at bravado, she hugged herself.

"Am I?" He asked.

Ginny shook her head. "I had another Harry dream last night."

Ron scooted his chair around the table to sit next to her. He was one of maybe two or three people who knew about Ginny's 'Harry dreams'. She'd started having them soon after Harry had rescued her from the Chamber. The dreams were the worst over the summer, but Ron and Ginny hadn't been able to figure out why.

As quietly as she could, Ginny whispered to Ron, keeping her eyes surreptitiously on Snape. "He was in his kitchen at Privet Drive. At least, I think so. He was sitting there, and he was hurt. He was bruised all over...and," She swallowed hard, and fell silent.

"Tell me?" Ron asked, putting a hand on her arm. She leaned against her brother, and bit her lip, trying not to cry. Not that she knew why she wanted to cry; just that she always wanted to the morning after a Harry dream.

She tried to speak, but Ron shook his head and hugged her, letting her collect herself. He had never made her promise to tell him about the dreams, or ordered her to, or even tried to tell her how important the dreams could be. He'd always just let her work through it on her own – in this, if nothing else, Ron had been as supportive as a brother could be.

"I don't know. He sent me away. That's never happened before, not in the dreams. I think he thought Voldemort would see me. But if they're just dreams, then why would he be afraid of that? They're supposed to be my dreams, they aren't supposed to act and talk like the real Harry..."

Ginny stayed quiet for a few minutes before pushing away from Ron and wiping her eyes.

"Anyway, he sent me a letter. I wrote him back, but I don't know if he'll get it, let alone write back."

Ron started. "Harry wrote you? Already? He hasn't even written me! And what do you mean you don't know if he'll get the letter?"

"Calm down, Ron!" Ginny motioned for him to keep his voice down. "He sent Hedwig to stay with us this summer, so she wouldn't bother his Uncle."

Ron's face hardened into a grimace. "So his Uncle wouldn't hurt Hedwig, you mean."

Although Ron hadn't always told Ginny, her Harry dreams sometimes contained grains of truth that occasionally helped him figure out what was going on with Harry.

Ginny nodded. "I think so."

Ron shook his head. "Okay, that much makes sense. But why write you and not me and Hermione?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't really know. Why not write him and ask him?"

Ron sighed. "Because I'm not sure I want to know the answer." He made a face. "Looking back, I'm not sure Hermione and I were what you'd call real supportive this last year."

Ginny frowned. "What do you mean?"

Looking uncomfortable, Ron squirmed in his chair. "He wasn't all that easy to get along with either."

"Ron." Ginny said impatiently, her voice a softer imitation of their mother. "Tell me what you mean."

Squirming in his seat, Ron shrugged. "Harry was being a right prat last year, all right? I didn't want to get yelled at every time I talked to him."

His sister huffed at him. "Oh yeah. Like you'd be in a great mood after one of your friends is killed by the resurrected arch-foe you never wanted and you talk to the magical afterimages of the parents you never knew. And if all that wasn't enough, more than half the school thought he'd gone spare or was lying to get attention until some rag printed his story. Come on, Ron you can do better than that."

Ron shook his head. "We didn't ignore him or anything like that. I just don't think we were there for him." He sighed. "Hermione was as mysterious and secretive as the Order about that interview with Rita Skeeter, but Harry went along with it even though he didn't know what was going on, and it caused Cho to break up with him."

"And you?" Ginny asked harshly. "What were doing? Playing Quidditch?"

"Yeah, sometimes. Or studying for OWLs. Or I dunno. We tried to be there for him, but I don't know if we could. I don't know that we knew how. The only time it felt like he was really a part of us was when he was teaching the DA."

"The DA was the only time anyone wanted any part of him, I think." Ginny sniffed. "You could have stood up for him against Umbridge. Or against anyone who went around saying he was crazy. Or you could have used your Prefect status to get him some privacy. You could have stood by him instead of letting him take the fall for everything!"

"The fall for what?" Ron snapped. "That fight with Malfoy? What would that have accomplished, Ginny? I tried, believe me. Standing up in the middle of Umbridge's class in Umbridge's classroom and challenging the Ministry's official line? Gotten detention with him? He didn't talk to me about anything, Ginny. Instead he acted without any kind of plan or any kind of forethought. Yeah, we do some stupid things, but we always had a plan. He always used to tell me what was going on. How could I help him if I didn't know what I needed to do? Did you want me to take points off people expressing their opinions? I could have, but that would have been real smart. Then they would have been more mad at Harry and more sure he was a liar." Ron slumped back, shaking his head. "It's not as easy as it seems."

"What's not easy?" Ginny asked, feeling – not for the first time – like hitting her brother. How could he, or anyone who claimed to be Harry's friend, dismiss what he'd been through so easily? "Being his friend? Either you're his friend and you act like it, or you're not. Why didn't you tell anyone about Umbridge's 'detentions'? She used a blood quill to carve 'I must not tell lies' into his hand. There is no spell, no potion or salve that will ever make those words go away. But you were worried about playing Quidditch hero to impress Hermione and barely noticed the fact that no one was helping him deal with any of it."

"Because he asked us not to," Ron said softly, narrowing his eyes, his face flushing red as the Weasley temper surged to the fore. "If his life was such hell, what were you doing? Off snogging Michael Corner in a broom cupboard?"

"Yes," Ginny answered quietly. "Because he won't listen to me. I'm just your 'little sister'."

"You still could have told someone about the detentions. Harry didn't ask you not to!" Ron shot back.

"No, I couldn't, because I didn't know about it until after Dumbledore was back! I learned about it from Dean Thomas when he was chatting me up!" She really didn't want to talk about Dean Thomas chatting her up, or that he knew the quickest way to get her to talk to him was to talk about Harry Potter. "Ron, he needs someone right now, desperately. Don't abandon him."

Ron paused, the color draining from his face. "This isn't about this last year, is it? This is about your dream. You're trying to get me to do something about your dream."

Ginny shrank back. "Maybe it's both."

"I'm not abandoning him, Ginny," Ron said calmly. "I don't know if how I handled things was right or not, I really don't. But I'm not abandoning him. And even if I wrote him, what makes you think he'd tell me?"

"I don't know." Ginny was hugging herself. Her Harry dreams were both a blessing and a curse; she loved having some small connection to him, but she hated what she saw and what she felt. "But...please..."

Ron looked thoughtful. "If you're this worried, maybe we should tell Dumbledore."

"No!" Ginny all but yelled. "No. I don't want to involve anyone else. What am I supposed to tell them? I'm having nightmares about Harry Potter and I think he might be in danger? They'd laugh at me." She let out a slow breath. "Besides, I don't know that they'd do anything even if they did believe me."

"Why do you say that?"

"The Order doesn't look out for him. I mean, they let him spend a year getting tortured by a woman who had sent Dementors to suck out his soul. She tried Veritaserum on him, Ron."

"So?" Ron threw back. "Snape's been threatening that and worse for longer."

"That exactly what I mean!" Ginny said. "It doesn't make any sense. They let everyone have a go at him and it seems no one ever stands up for Harry!"

"No," Ron mumbled. "It doesn't make much sense, does it? I don't know what to tell you. I can't decide what do to."

"You can write your friend a letter," Ginny stated flatly.

Ron sighed. "I'll see if I can think of anything to say. What's a bloke supposed to write, anyway? 'I'm sorry your godfather died. How's the weather?'"

"No! Maybe. I don't know." Ginny put her elbows on the table and rested her head on her hands. "Just...something. To let him know he's not alone."

Ron looked at his little sister and shrugged, whispering too low for her to hear. "Somehow, Ginny, I think he might already know that."

- 0 -

If Molly Weasley saw the sour looks on her youngest children's faces when Severus Snape brought them home, she probably chalked it up to them having spent over two hours in his un-chaperoned company.

What she didn't know was that Snape had happily footed the bill and had even bought them ice cream for dessert, provided they didn't bother him. The sour looks were actually from the fact that all three had ended up on their arses in the dust coming up the drive because some bugger had forgotten to take off a certain ward.

If her children saw the angry look on their mother's face, they probably chalked it up to Fred and George being de facto members of the Order against her express wishes, and neither one of them wanted to face their mother when angry. It was a well-known fact around the Weasley family that when Molly Weasley was mad at someone, everyone stayed out of her way or else they could quickly become the someone she was angry at.

If anyone had wanted to brave staying around the cramped family room, they would have seen Bill staring at Charlie and Fleur Delacour with an expression between hurt and sadness while Tonks switched between shooting Bill concerned looks and the happy couple death glares.

But none of the Weasleys were paying much attention. They all faded away to separate corners of the Burrow; or in the case of Fred, George and Arthur Weasley, they left for work post haste. No one paid very much attention to Severus Snape speaking quietly with Albus Dumbledore; it was a scene played out often at the Burrow since the death of Sirius Black.

Ginny Weasley knew that part of her should feel resentful of the Order invading her home and making it their headquarters now that they couldn't get into Grimmauld Place. But she wasn't. She knew Ron was, and she knew her parents wouldn't voice an opinion either way. Ginny found she couldn't feel resentful of the loss of something she had not had since the end of her first year at Hogwarts. She hadn't lost privacy or space of her own. Her family hadn't given her that since Tom Riddle had taken away the privacy of her own mind and body.

What she resented was the way they looked at her. Some of them regarded her with pity, others with suspicion. And so very few of them knew her. Or knew anything about her.

They greeted her with a smile or a pat on the shoulder, but most of them never stopped looking at her out of the corner of their eye. She wasn't just Arthur and Molly's only daughter, or the youngest Weasley or even a friend of Harry Potter.

She was girl who had been possessed by Voldemort.

The whispers were the worst. '...are we sure he can't control her anymore?' Followed by: 'No one's ever said how she got the diary in the first place...how do we know it was the diary at all?'

She would have gladly tuned them all out, if not for the other whispers. 'The Potter boy sent a letter...why should we protect just one boy, no matter how special he seems...more trouble than he's worth, if he cost us Ministry support..."

It was when her mother shuffled up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder as she leaned down to whisper: "Ginny, why don't you be a dear and go get yourself a bit of fresh air."

Ginny forced herself to smile at her mother. She made sure she spoke loud enough to be heard by most, if not all of the Order members crowding the bottom floor of her house. "Sure. I can write back to Harry by the pond just as well as I can in my room."

The youngest Weasley had the immense satisfaction of watching a wave of surprised expressions wash over the room starting with her own mother and ending with Severus Snape as she skipped out the back door, backpack in hand.

End Chapter

Revised 8-11-9