March 16th, 2001
Great Hall, Hogwarts School
"Nathan Potter is nominated for the position of head of the Order of the Phoenix. Who will second?" McGonagall asked.
"I will," Ron proclaimed, still smirking.
"The nomination is seconded," Minerva declared. "I submit the... dossier... for perusal."
Several minutes passed as those interested read through the files Astoria had prepared, and Professor McGonagall had so graciously duplicated for each table. A murmur began in the corners of the room, soon gaining strength.
"Who dissents?" The pro tempore presiding member asked. Molly Weasley stood.
"He is too young!"
"Bullshit," Kingsley declared. "Nathan is of legal age, and has far more experience than most among us in fighting the Dark Lord. And his methods, though it pains me to admit, are far more effective than my own. He is legally allowed to enlist in the most dangerous professions of our world. To say that he cannot lead because he is 'too young', despite having proven himself an effective general in the past, is ignorance made flesh."
McGonagall, after seeing that no other dissents were forthcoming following Kingsley's smackdown, called a vote.
- o -
Nathan's Journal, March 23rd, 2001
I'm still getting used to this new office they insisted I take as my own. Over the past week, I've been restructuring the Order's goals, and assigning tasks. At Fred and Ron's insistence, and with their aid, I have convinced Daphne to join the Order. She now coordinates information-gathering efforts to supply our (newly-formed) strategy team. Ron, unsurprisingly, was the top candidate, surpassing all other members of the Order. He has been coordinating efforts to defend all of Britain, for when Voldemort inevitably attacks once more.
To say that the rest of the Order of the Phoenix was surprised by the changes I am making would be a vast understatement. To say that a number of them are turning red in the face from rage hits the nail on the head. But they chose me to lead them, and I refuse to fail again.
- o -
Nathan's Journal, April 12th, 20011
Voldemort has once again attacked British soil. The muggle world is, fortunately, still, to excuse the pun, oblivious as to the situation. The Ministry of Magic even refused to allow the heads of state in on the true nature of the many 'natural disasters' striking throughout Europe, and the mysterious gloom in parts that, while unfrequented by non-magical citizens, had seemed cheerful and full of life.
I'm almost convinced that overthrowing the various Ministries throughout Europe would be a good thing, because of how effective muggle equipment has been shown to be and their collective refusal to allow it to be used, even by those with magical blood. However, I can understand the ruling bodies' sentiment. The more people who know a secret, the less safe it is, and procuring the equipment alone would raise many people's suspicions.
After careful deliberation, I have requested Daphne keep an ear to the ground for leads on Harry's whereabouts. She told me she had been since he disappeared. If he ever is found, I'm going to lock them in a closet alone until they reconcile. I'm not sure I'm joking, either.
- o -
May 1st, 2001
Location Unknown
Dumbledore winced as another blast rocked the hideout. It was far from being a secure location, and had not been intended to house so many people. For months now, he had been gathering what remained of the resistance on the mainland and getting innocent people away from the conflict.
"Sir, we received a message from Russia. They said that… that any more refugees sent over the border would be summarily executed."
Albus' eyes widened in horror. That had been their only avenue left for evacuation.
"Sir, many of the refugees wish to join the fight, not flee. I know you are opposed to letting anyone younger than thirty actually fight, but-"
"Very well," Dumbledore said wearily.
"W-what?"
"Let them join. Have the best instructors among us teach them the basics while we travel."
"Where will we go, sir?"
"Our mission is now changed. We depart for Albania in four hours. Spread the word."
- o -
Nathan's Journal, May 17th, 2001
Things seem to be looking up for us now. It's been months since the last attack on British soil, and the Order is now prepared to begin striking back. We have already targeted one of Voldemort's command centers on the mainland. Our aim, for now, is to create as big a disruption as is possible, weakening the Death Eaters. My father and his friends from school proved to be quite creative in drafting ideas.
However, not all is well. Daphne is near to a mental breakdown from the stress of her task in the Order and searching for information about Harry's whereabouts. It doesn't help she cannot forgive herself for driving Harry away from her in the first place, and her belief that had she not Harry would still be here weighs on her mind. I have ordered her to take a few months off, just until the start of August, so she can relax.
- o -
August 5th, 2001
SGC Briefing Room, Cheyenne Mountain
"I admit to being curious, Captain Potter," Hammond said. "Exactly what is your staff, to be able to do the things SG-1 reports?"
SG-1 had just returned from a standard recon mission gone bad, prompting Harry to call on his powers again. The team's, and the General's, curiosity was too strong to ignore. What if it could be replicated?
"That is an interesting question," Harry said. "Ultimately, it stems from what my ancestors called Zero Point Energy. With the proper medium, it can be shaped and altered to achieve many effects. At their height, this energy was the power source for some of our civilization's greatest achievements.
"What my staff does is it amplifies this energy and channels it in a specific way. A neural interface allows me to control it telepathically."
"So it is not you yourself that summons the emerald flame?" Teal'c asked.
"No. Without my staff, I am severely limited in my abilities, though it is an innate ability to sense 'zpe that allows it to work properly. Hammond looked thoughtful at that proclamation. Was he one of them?
- o -
Nathan's Journal, August 6th, 2001
It seems our luck is running out. Voldemort launched a series of attacks that, while smaller than he usually sends out, forced us to divide our attention, to the death of three of our number. This isn't working anymore. We have to do something different.
- o -
August 8th, 2001
"I have a small lead," Daphne proclaimed.
Immediately, Nathan's eyes snapped to hers. "Where?"
"The United States," the girl said, "though where exactly I cannot say. All I know is that, a few months ago, he appeared in military records."
"Military?"
"The documents didn't say exactly what it was, but he's working with them on some project or something, called 'Blue Book,' I believe. I'll have to double check."
"Do so. Alert me if you find anything more."
"You will be the first I tell," she promised.
- o -
Nathan's Journal, August 14th, 2001
Ron made several suggestions at today's meeting to improve effectiveness in combat. I have put him in charge of devising a training system. It's almost like we are back in the Chamber again. I miss those days, back when Hermione and Fred were still alive.
- o -
Nathan's Journal, August 23rd, 2001
It's almost time for the new school year to begin. Most of the Hogwarts staff is focusing on preparing for the students' arrival. It's hard to believe that six years have passed since my brother disappeared and the war began.
Severus has brought information about a planned attack on the Express tomorrow. He does not have exact numbers, but evidently Voldemort implied that it was to be the same sized force as most of his other attacks; that is to say, a handful of Death Eaters at most. Two groups of our combat-ready duelists are being sent on the train to protect the students. That will have to be enough. We didn't have very many fighters to begin.
- o -
Nathan's Journal, September 1st, 2001
A horrible tragedy has befallen us this day. One in ten of the students on the Hogwarts Express were killed in an attack, and many members of the Order fell trying to defend their charges. We must not let their deaths be in vain. I have done what I thought I never would again. The Chimera wakes.
- - - o - - -