I can't remember the last time I updated... I'm sorry my readers! I'll try harder, I promise!
They hovered outside the door, anxious for Harry to exit. The Order of the Phoenix had called an emergency meeting at Grimmuld Place and, as usual, the trio had eavsdropped outside the door with extendable ears. When they'd got the gist of what the meeting was about, Harry had flung the door open and begun shouting at the members how it was their right to know this infomation. Draco and Tom had joined them, summonded by the sudden increase in volume. Eventually Harry had been admitted into the meeting, but all the extendable ears had been confiscated leaving the rest of them standing outside the door, clueless.
After ten minutes, the door flung open sharply halting just before the wall grabbed by a hand at the last moment. The hand on the doorknob gripped it tightly, the knuckles going white. Remus Lupin approached Harry from behind.
"You can let go now, Harry."
But his words seemed to have no effect, so Lupin carefully pried Harry's hand off of the doorknob. He looked up at the rest of them and finding something reassuring he returned to the meeting room, parting with the ambiguous words;
"Take care."
Hermione tenderly took him by the elbow, and the group retreated upstairs. Harry fell into an armchair, Ron and Hermione sat close on a bed, Tom pulled over a desk chair near Harry while Draco leaned against the desk. Technically they were situated in a rough circle, but in spirit they faced Harry who was holding his head in his hands.
Wearily, he finally spoke; "Hermione, we're going to need to contact everyone from D.A. and anyone else who would be a good addition. No one's forced to participate, but every bit of help is going to be really appriciated. And dare I say it, we're going to need books, as many as we can cram in our heads. Ron, I want training regiems. Running over everything from defensive to disabling the enemy - as permemently as we can. Draco, get us as much information about what we can expect to face. We know the basics but there's got to be something other than the Unforgivables at their disposal. Alright?"
A moment passed as they all took these orders in, Draco had the first word to say.
"Hey, why do you just assume-!"
Harry's head snapped up to look the blonde dead in the eye. His own emerald eyes had a dangerous sheen to them, the whites had gone pink from bloodshot, his jaw set far too seriously and his mouth a grim line.
"I'm not beating around the bush pandering to you Malfoy. Either you know something that can help us or you're dead weight. Be glad we're not stringing you up, making sure you didn't - and won't - leak infomation back to Voldemort."
His hard look bored into Draco for a while longer, as an apprehensive feeling hung in the air. Finally, Hermione broke it, the first to actually comprehend the situation. Tentatively she asked,
"Harry, it sounds like you're preparing for- well, for a war."
Each one of them knowing the truth but hardly daring to admit it, even to themselves, they awaited his reply. Harry turned his gaze from Draco, turning it to the floor, then to the middle of the room. His eyes had a dead look in them.
"What do think we're in, Hermione? We're in a war already."
Ron asked, unusually careful.
"What happened mate? What did they say?"
Harry sighed, they weight of the world on his shoulders and suddenly bare for them all to see.
"They said that this coming battle will be one of the biggest we've ever faced. It's a key sector, if it doesn't straight out win the war for Voldemort, then it will come damn close. I plan to fight, and I told the Order that. In fact, I got the Order to agree to something even better. I told them that we'd fight, no matter if they want us to or not, so the least they could do is allow us to fight so that we could pool our resources and coordinate our plans. And they agreed."
They looked at each other in amazement. The Order was usually so strict in keeping them out of the war - everything from battles to minor official business. It must've taken some very emotive, logical words on Harry's part to convince them. Harry dropped his gaze, tired for a moment, before streatching up straight and earning a new determined look in his eyes.
"The battle is in a two months. Luckily, the official school term will be postponed in light of this news, but Hogwarts will be used as a safehouse. In these two months, we need to round up everyone willing to fight. We need to gather as much infomation as we can about what we'll be fighting and the best ways to combat it. We need to train everyone, hard. And we need to formulate a strategy and coordinate with the Order of the Phoenix. Okay?"
The only replies were nods and mumbled agreements.
"Okay!?" Harry repeated louder, sounding similar to an army official.
"Yes!" Everyone firmly said back, automatically.
As they moved off to begin carrying out their tasks, Tom assinged himself a job by calling out to Draco.
"Draco, I'll help you, shall I?"
Suddenly, the procession stopped. They'd forgotten about Tom. Tom and his, unique, position. One at a time they each turned to face him, Draco and Ron blocking the door, Hermione and Harry standing slightly in front. Tom faced them, his careful smile melting off of his chin.
No one said anything. For what felt like the longest time, not a word was said. No words against, no words fighting for. Then, after the wait, Harry simply walked up to Tom. Tom with a grim look to his face, as grim as the look in Harry's eyes. They stood nose to nose, staring each other down for a moment. Harry said only one thing:
"If you betray us, I'll kill Sonia."
"You wouldn't d-!"
Tom began, his poker face cracked at Harry's words and his own rage blowing the pieces away, as soon as the other had stopped speaking. Catching a hold of himself, he stopped midsentence, fuming. He stared at the boy oppesite, comprehending the meaning behind his words. Harry merely wore the hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips.
"You will stick with me. You can give us the best insight as to how Voldemort will be thinking - you're the best insight we could hope for."
Addressing the rest of the group, he continued;
"Come on. we've got work to do."
The most of them arrived in that week, old DA members and other useful friends. Training began as soon as the first young soldier arrived at Grimmuld Place, but the official regieme began at the end of the week. With them all gathered together in one room of Grimmuld Place, Harry felt oddly reminescent of the first D.A. meeting. It felt like forever ago to him, when it was just a class - just teenagers rebeling against a teacher. Now was such a different place. Now they were adults. Young adults, perhaps, only fit to fight via determination and blackmail. Fighting not a teacher, not some archtype of oppression, but a war. They finished chatting, the mandatory time before any speech where the sound filling each crevice of the room can only be described as 'chatter'. They took their places, most on the floor, some gaining the upper hand on various seats and tables. A hush fell, the chatter melting away, no visble signs of slowing aside from a sudden realisation that no ones mouth was moving anymore, as Harry alone stood oppesite the crowd.
He swallowed, never one to be in the limelight. He glanced at Ron and Hermione, how smiled back. He sent a look at Ginny, who encouraged in her impatient way. He was even compelled to briefly scan the small darker section of the crowd that Draco had drew into the plot, seeking the blondes own eyes. He looked back with an appropriate air of challenge.
Harry somehow found himself locked in the gaze of Tom Riddle. Tom, who stood up the back, in no group and making no attempts to be a part of them. But there was no doubt to Harry, or any onlooker, that he was a part of this congragation. he gave Harry no look, no obvious sign, but Harry knew. Harry knew why he recieved no 'look' - there was no look to give, none appropriate for what was to be conveyed. There was no assurance - if he fell Tom would not fall with him. There was no assumptions of his being correct - Tom would make no such assumptions. And there was no challenge - Tom seemed content to follow. There was just one over powering feeling - a WANT. Tom wanted to see Harry lead.
And lead he would.
Harry cast his sights to the crowd, dug to the depths of his heart, his determination, his anger and his motivation and he opened his mouth to let it all flow out in speech.
"The Second War has started, whether we like it or not. It started two years ago, we've just been blissfully separated from it. But this war is our war. This war affects us, and no one more so than us. Some of those who fight will die, but not in vain. We don't have to fight, but we should. Because if we don't fight, and they win, what can we say? When people ask, where were you during the Second War, what can we say? 'Hiding under our beds, hoping Voldemort didn't come knocking on our doors?'. I won't be. If anyone asked me, I know that I can proudly say: 'I was on the front lines, fighting every Death Eater that came at me, and I only stopped when I physically couldn't fight anymore' - That's what I'll be able to say. The adults who think they can fight this for us? They grow older and weaker with every passing day. We are the future and this war is a war for the future. How many people did you know, personally, that Voldemort has slaughtered? Hiw many of you fear for your families lives, either because they are Muggles, Muggle-born, because they fight against him to protect what they treasure or even most simply they don't agree with Voldemort. How many of you are afriad to leave the house in case there's nothing to come back to? How many of you are afraid of going to sleep and never waking up? Or worse, going to sleep and waking up alone. So! When people ask, what will you say? When they ask about the Second War, what anecdotes will you have at your disposal? When your children ask what part you played in saving our future, will you sheepishly admit that you hid while one of the most influental battles raged on? Or will you hold your head high and humbly tell them that you fought for your future? Well?! Are you with me?"
A chorus of positive shouts resonated out across the room, the flow of voice indicating the characters in the room. The current and ex- Gryffindors were loud and aggressive, the Ravenclaws sharp and keen, the Hufflepuffs nervous but determined and the Slytherins soft but laced with a dangerous promise of revenge. The twins held a note all their own, the synchronised voices giving off a strange slightly mad ring. Fluer and other Beuxbatons gave a classy decortaion of a French accent, feminem yet wicked. Krum and his Durmstrang fellows provided a deep bass, tinting the room in a slightly dark shade of retribution than otherwise would've hung. Draco provided an juxatpostion of a loud, aggressive shout laced with revenge while it was Ron and Hermione who lead the crowd with such exburance.
And Tom merely stood up the back, if not leaning forward slightly, pride written all over his body. He gave only one small short word of confirmation that somehow gave Harry more confidence than the chorus in front of him.
And... that 2000+ words so I think i can stop. *smile*
There is your new shiney chapter, it has long blocks of text. I'm not sure why or how. Heh heh.
Enjoy! (and a review if you spare the time, please)
