Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Danny Phantom.

Harry hid his furious fuming from Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. So the Daily Prophet had been slandering him. So what? It wasn't like he cared about that rag after what Rita Skeeter had done. So what if it was blatant character assassination? So what if the paper was susceptible to the manipulations of a cowardly and corrupt government? So what if it seemed to be working?

He was just attempting wandless pyro-genesis for fun...

Harry forced himself to stop when he thought he saw a flicker of smoke from the area he had been staring at. It was hard to remember, but when wizards talked about a 'heated glare' they weren't always being metaphorical.

Maybe he should start talking to that nutter house-elf, Kreacher, Ron mentioned. Hopefully he would make more sense then the entire wizarding world. Given the house it probably wouldn't happen, but hope springs eternal.

He sighed and turned his attention back to the conversation.

"So, evidently I'm an attention seeking brat," Harry said to his gathered friends. "Dumbledore's cracked, Voldemort isn't back, and the blokes who fight Voldemort have to make camp in the house of a family so steeped in the Dark Arts that I'm surprised that I don't find dementors taking tea here. Is there anything else I should know? Did Percy suddenly decide to abandon us or something?"

The urge to burn things came back when he saw Ron and Ginny wince.

"And for the final item on our agenda," Dumbledore said to the assembled members of the Order of the Phoenix, "the Fenton's report on a mundane monitoring device that can work within the ministry."

"Well, we've given the matter careful study," Maddie informed the room, standing up to deliver her report, "and it's certainly feasible. We already use various shielding on all of our devices already, and from our experiments here we've determined that most should be able to function in a highly magical environment. The problem comes from the other constraints. We need to make it so we can monitor the Hall of Prophecy in real-time and we need to keep the device concealed. We don't know what sort of interference we're going to get there, so we're not sure how the signal from the device will be effected. We could bypass that by using a land line to a relay, but that's not a very feasible option. And then the shielding takes up a certain amount of space, so there are strict limits on how much we can minimize the device."

"Could we use magical means to conceal the machine?" Mr Weasley asked. "I know Moody's got an invisibility cloak..."

"That is one avenue of possibilities we're looking into," Jack answered. "Incidentally your kids have been a great help with our research."

"Yes, well, I'm sure Fred and George are looking for new inspiration for their pranks," Molly Weasley replied with a wry smile. "But it's still nice to hear that they're at least being productive while doing so." Her expression soured as a thought struck her. "By the way, your machines still haven't found a way to spy through conceptual wards, have they?"

"Not in real time," Maddie responded "Why?"

"Because I think they've been trying to eavesdrop on these meetings- wait, what do you mean 'not in real-time'."

"Putting aside the youthful indiscretions of the twins," Dumbledore's voice cut in, "do you think you can construct something to monitor the hall?"

"Yes, but not anytime soon. We can probably build a prototype by November and if we really push ourselves we can get it working and installed by mid-December."

"Then we shall have to rely on old fashioned methods until then," said the aged wizard. "Phantom have you had a chance to test out the Ministry wards? Do you think you could help with guard duty or installing the Fenton's machine?"

"I know I can break through the outer wards if I have to," the spirit informed the silver bearded wizard. "But I'm pretty sure they'd detect it. Maybe if I hitched a ride in, but I'd rather not risk it."

"Very well. Does anyone have any other issues to bring up?" Dumbledore's twinkling eyes swept over the room, waiting for one of the gathered to speak up. "No? Then this meeting is adjourned."

Chairs scraped against the floor and the members of the Order of the Phoenix started to file towards the door.

"Phantom, a moment if you will," Albus called out to the halfa who was halfway out the ceiling.

"Yeah?" Danny asked, flipping around so he legs were going through the ceiling rather than his head.

"I have some things I would like to discuss with you in private. Do you think you could stop by my office tomorrow around one?"

"I should be able to," Danny answered. "But if something comes up..."

"It is easy to tell you aren't a spirit of punctuality," Dumbledore said with an amused twinkle in his eyes. "Stop by during this upcoming week, sometime after sunset. I'll have the wards permit you into my office. But it would work best if you came tomorrow."

"I'll try," Danny said, giving a quick two fingered salute. "Gotta run." And with that he exited the room. Danny flew up to the attic turning invisible and insubstantial. He looked around to make sure there was no one observing him. He closed his eyes and began to breath deeply.

His ghost sense wasn't exactly tuned into magic. In fact his ghost sense was more of an instinctive reaction, his core upping energy and ectoplasm production in response to a possible threat. That was why it was so hard to use it to find the ghost it reported.

Instead he had to pay attention to what alerted his core to the ghost in the first place. Danny had used it by accident before, trusting his instincts to find the ghost. Sam had suggested meditation to gain finer awareness, but meditation was not something Danny was naturally suited for. Besides his instincts worked well enough for battling ghosts.

But his instincts weren't enough when dealing with magic. He could sense things like wards when he was almost touching them but that was about it. So he caved in and went to Frostbite to see if he had known anything about meditation and magic.

Frostbite had been able to help. Danny was able to gain some rudimentary skill in sensing other ghosts and magic. He needed to enter a meditative state and just let his mind relax, focusing on his core.

His core detected other ghosts by 'tasting' the ambient energy that it took in to replace some of the energy lost by its own inefficiency All ghost cores did so, part of the reason certain spots were more hospitable to ghosts then others. Frostbite had also theorized that this was part of the reason Danny was so strong. When he was human he wasn't consuming any energy from his core unless he used some of his ghost powers. In fact he was still feeding it energy. Surprisingly this didn't cause its' production capabilities to atrophy. No, in fact it was related to the reason why older ghosts were stronger.

Excess energy, energy that wasn't consumed by use of powers or sustaining the ghost, was used to reinforce their bodies and grow their powers. Danny hadn't understood the specifics or the mechanics behind it, but he had understood Frostbite's explanation as to what it meant for him. When Danny was in his human form his ghost form consumed no energy. All the energy produced by his core, all the energy it absorbed, all the energy his human half fed it, that could go into reinforcing his spectral body and his powers. That was why he had grown so strong in such a short time.

However this was irrelevant to sensing magic. What was important was that his core absorbed some ambient energy and if he focused he could use that to 'see' the energy of ghosts and magic. Within the darkness of his mind he relaxed, falling inward, diving into himself. He focused on his center.

He knew the boundary of the house's wards was about twenty feet above the roof. He could feel the wards that Molly had set up. He could feel the connection from the 'original'. He could even make out the collection of energy that were the occupants of the house. He couldn't feel anything that seemed like an observation spell.

He opened his eyes and vanished with a very small pop.

Danny opened his eyes when he felt his missing part return. He thought he had felt a light touch stroking him, but there was no sign of it when he sat up. Sam was slightly red for some reason. Had he been radiating heat?

"Is the meeting over?" Tucker inquired. "What did you learn?" He asked eagerly.

"Voldemort didn't send the dementors," Danny informed them. "They're still guarding that place I shouldn't tell you guys about, and mom and dad are going to build something to watch it instead. There's some more stuff, but it's about scheduling and searching."

"If Voldemort didn't send those dementors, then who did?" Jazz asked.

"It was the Ministry wasn't it," Sam declared, slamming her fist into her upraised palm. "Authority's trying to silence Harry cause they don't like what he's saying."

"Considering the character assassination they're performing," said Jazz, "I don't think that they'd feel the need to kill him."

"Maybe they were hoping that'd he'd use magic," Tucker suggested. "So they could get him for the use of underage magic?"

"Nobody at the meeting knew," Danny said, holding his head in his hands. Having to sort through the memories on top of his previous condition was somewhat discomforting. "I think Mrs. Weasley just caught onto the mechanical bugs Fred and George were creating."

"You mean the ones that literally crawl out of the room?" Tucker said. "Awww, man! We spent hours designing those."

"We better shut up now," Jazz told the group, looking at the stairs. "They'll be coming down to fetch us for dinner soon."

"I've got another meeting with Dumbledore tomorrow. Maybe we'll learn more then." Danny stood up with a groan. "So does anyone know what we're going to eat?"

"So Percy values the opinion of the Daily Prophet and Rita Skeeter more then his own impression of me, and lets his ambition dominate his thinking. Oh and Fudge is making things difficult for your dad and Dumbledore." Harry said, rubbing his forehead. For once it wasn't his scar that was bothering him. There was a crack and Fred and George appeared in the room, right on either side of Harry, sitting on the bed as if they had always been there. "And these two passed their Apparation tests. This can't end well. Voldemort might as well pack up his things, the wizarding world can descend into chaos without him."

"I think Harry's a might overwrought," Fred said from the right of Harry.

"I know. What could we ever do, dear brother, that would ever cause any sort of havoc?" George responded. "Tut-tut Harry, what could you be thinking. But that's not why we're here."

"We just thought-" Fred began.

"-that we should let you know-"

"-that the meetings over-"

"-and you shouldn't let mum-"

"-hear you discussing anything important." George finished. "You know how she gets."

"They can't detect underage magic here, right?" Harry asked. "So I can hex these two? And what do you mean, 'how she gets'?"

"We simply mean that-"

"-she-"

"Don't do that," Harry warned, pointing his wand at one of the twins. His draw had been quite fast and George had to take a moment to collect his wits before continuing.

"She's a bit smothering. She doesn't want us to know anything about the Order's business," George told the boy-who-was-living. "She thinks we'll want to get involved and of course we're all 'to young' to do that."

Harry snorted.

"It doesn't matter if I want to or not," Harry replied. "I'll be minding my own business and someone will unleash the horrors Salazar Slytherin stored in his secret chamber pot and then that will start rumors that I'm the heir to his hidden toilet and it'll be up to me to put everything right. Or Voldemort will slip in a Death Eater as the new Ministry approved caretaker and he'll try and frame me for embezzling Ministry funds-"

"How would that even work?" Ron asked, confused. "I mean you aren't a Ministry employee-"

"I've got no clue, but it's not like the current administration is bound by logic anyway," Harry said, throwing up his arms. "The point is, it doesn't matter if I want to be involved, there's no way I can avoid being involved. And that's without the whole Voldemort wanting to kill me thing."

"Sorry mate, but I don't think that argument will make much headway with her," Fred told Harry, clapping him on the back. "Now, we better get out of here so she doesn't think we're doing anything suspicious."

And with that they stood up and Apparated away.

"Anything else I should know about," Harry began. "Like- actually I'm not going to say anything. Murphy has evidently decided that my wild suggestions are challenges."

"There's nothing else major," Hermione informed him.

"Good. So does anyone know what Ron's mum's making for dinner?"

Harry and Sirius's heartfelt reunion took place due to the clumsiness of Tonks and the psychotic portrait of his crazy and bitter mother. Evidently a lot of effort had been invested into that portrait, the Order had been unable to seal it away thus far. Or maybe it was simply the power of her hate. Either way waking her up was a sure fire way to hear a rant about blood traitors and mudbloods.

Harry had inquired as to why they didn't simply burn it. Sirius had told him nobody wanted to set off whatever booby traps she had hidden in the painting.

As he was talking with Sirius, four people entered the hallway. There was a dark skinned boy in glasses, a yellow shirt, greenish pants, and a red beret, fiddling with some sort of muggle electronic. There was a red haired girl with a blue hairband, nearly as tall as Maddie Fenton, with aqua eyes, in a black shirt and blue pants. Harry probably glanced at her a bit longer then really necessary.

Next was another girl, a violet eyed one with hair as black as night. She was dressed in some odd muggle fashion, the colors all black and purple. She was half a head shorter then the boy next to her.

It was the boy next to her that surprised Harry. Unruly jet black hair like his own, around his height, and somewhat pale, a bit like Harry himself. His eyes at least were different, a clear and almost icy blue.

"And here are our guests," Sirius announced. "Everyone, this is my godson, Harry Potter."

"Hello, I'm Tucker Foley," the dark skinned boy said, offering a hand.

"I'm Jazz Fenton," said the red head. "We've heard a lot about you."

"I wouldn't believe anything you've heard," Harry replied, shaking Tucker's hand. "The whole rumor about me juggling dragon eggs while standing on my broom naked and drunk while being chased by the angry mother is a complete fabrication."

"I'm Sam Manson," said the dark haired girl. "Environmentalist extraordinaire."

"And I'm Danny Fenton," the final newcomer said, offering up his hand as well. Harry released Tucker's and took his. Something deep inside him said it was appropriate to greet this boy as an equal.

"Nice to meet you," Harry replied to the group. "I hope they've been treating you well."

"Well Mrs. Weasley's been stuffing us..." Jazz began.

"Or at least trying to," Tucker interjected. "I think she takes me as a challenge."

"So what are you lot doing up here anyway?" Sirius asked. "Dinner's in the basement dining room."

"Stretching our legs," Danny replied. "We were cooped up in the basement the whole meeting after all."

"Harry!" A voice called out. Everyone turned to see Mr. Weasley hurrying forward. "Good to see you! I see you've already met our guests."

Over his shoulder, Harry saw Bill. The curse breaker carrying sheets of rolled up parchment from whatever room the meeting had been held in. His hair swished in a ponytail behind him.

"Journey all right, Harry?" The eldest Weasley child asked. "Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, or try to have Phantom slip you through the Spirit World?"

"He would've if he could've," Tonks announced, walking over. She knocked over a candle on the way. Harry was astounded that someone so clumsy could be an Auror. Hopefully her coordination improved in combat.

"Sorry," Tonks said sheepishly, trying to contain the mess.

"Here, dear." Mrs. Weasley swept onto the scene and cleared up the wax with a charm. "Why don't you go see who's staying for dinner?"

Which would keep her away from helping with the sharp silverware or breakable plates. Harry nodded to himself. Good job Mrs. Weasley.

"Sit down Harry," Sirius said. "You've met Mundungus, haven't you?"

"Actually I haven't," Harry replied. "He never showed up after Phantom drove off the dementors. Where is he?"

Sirius indicated a pile of rags. Harry's eyebrows shot up. That was a person? Then the pile stirred.

"Some'n say m' name?" The rags grumbled. There was movement and then Harry could make out the man. He had scraggly ginger hair, was unshaven, short bandy legs, and bloodshot eyes. He smelt of tobacco and alcohol. Harry was glad that Phantom had been there that night instead of the man before him. Harry probably would have needed to protect Mundungus from the dementors rather then the other way around.

"The meeting's over, Dung," said Sirius. Everyone sat down at the table. "Harry's arrived."

"Eh?" Mundungus peered balefully at Harry through his hair. "Blimey, so 'e 'as. Yeah..."

Mundungus fumbled around in his pocket for a moment and pulled out a black and grimy pipe. He stuck it in his mouth, lit it with his wand, and began to smoke. Clouds of billowing green smoke obscured him in moments. Harry rolled his eyes. Regular tobacco evidently wasn't good enough for him, he needed magical stuff.

"For the last time, Mundungus," called Mrs. Weasley. "You will not smoke that thing in the kitchen. Do you want me to make it so you can't smoke it in this house at all?"

"Ah," replied Mundungus nervously. "Right. Sorry, Molly." He stowed the pipe back in his pocket and waved his wand to vanish the leftover smoke. For a moment the smell of burning socks lingered and then vanished with the smoke.

Heavy knives chopped meat and vegetables under the watchful eye of the Weasley patriarch, while the matriarch of the family stirred a cauldron over a fire. Others took out plates, goblets, and food from the pantry.

Something brushed against his knees. He looked down and saw Crookshanks, Hermione's bandy-legged ginger cat, who wound himself around Harry's legs once, purred and then jumped up into Sirius's lap. Sirius began to pet him without realizing it. Evidently Hermione's cat still had fond memories of the fake dog.

"Had a good summer so far?"

"Well, I consider the highlight to be the dementor attack, so yes actually. There's nothing I love more then being cooped up with the relatives who hate me and kept in the dark about the madman who wants to kill me." Harry replied, doing his best to keep his tone from becoming venomous. "Even if it is for a good reason. Is there anyone here who knows how to counter Legilimency?"

"Well..." Sirius began reluctantly, "As much as I hate to admit it, Snivellous is probaly the best living Occlumentist-"

"I'll take it," Harry responded instantly. "Anything to get involved on my own terms."

"Eh?" Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"No matter what happens, I'm going to get involved," Harry informed his godfather. "It never fails to happen, every year I get mixed up in something. I just want to have some control over it this time. But enough about that. How have you been?"

"Bleh," Sirius responded. "I've been cooped up in here for a month."

"How come?" Asked Harry, frowning.

"Because the Ministry of Magic's still after me, and Voldemort will know all about me being an Animagus by now, Wormtail will have told him, so my big disguise is useless. There's not much I can do for the Order of the Phoenix... or so Dumbledore feels."

From the tone of his godfather's voice, Harry could tell that he shared his own displeasure with the headmaster, despite the necessity of Dumbledore's measures. He felt a surge of affection for his godfather. The only thing that brought people closer together then shared suffering, was sharing the suffering of shared enemies.

"Well at least you've known what's been going on," Harry said bracingly.

"Oh yeah," replied his godfather. "Listening to Snape's reports, having to take all his snide hints that he's out there risking his life, asking me how'st he cleaning going. Urg. I cannot wait until we get a lead on where he's making his war golems, so I can help Phantom break something."

"Sirius?" It was Mundungus who spoke up. He had been closely examining a silver goblet. "This solid silver, mate?"

"Yes," said Sirius, surveying it with distaste. "Finest fifteenth century goblin-wrought silver, embossed with the Black family crest."

"That'd-" Mundungus was interrupted by the arrival of Maddie Fenton who snatched the goblet out of his hand. She put some sort of device, like a jeweler's glass over her eye and began to examine the goblet herself.

"No obvious signs of any supernatural energies," she muttered to herself. "But it could be embedded in the chemical bonds. Maybe if we could... Sirius, do you mind if we run some experiments on this?"

"You can melt it for all I care," Sirius answered.

"That has a good chance of happening," Mrs. Fenton said, still examining the goblet.

There was a brief commotion from the kitchen. Fred and George had evidently charmed dinner to float over, only for something to go wrong and spill. Harry idly noted a knife embedded in the wall. That could have been very bad.

"For heaven's sake," roared Mrs. Weasley, red with rage. "There's no need! - I've had enough of this! - Just because you're allowed to use magic now you don't have to whip out your wands for every little thing!"

Harry wondered about that. Most witches and wizards seemed to do so. That's right, he could use magic for mundane chores now too.

"Boys," Mr. Weasley said, putting the stew in the middle of the table. "Your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now that you've come of age-"

"-none of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!" Mrs. Weasely raged at the twins, slamming a fresh flagon of butterbeer onto the table, and nearly spilling as much as the twins. "Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't Charm everything he met! Percy-"

She stopped dead. Mr. Weasley had a wooden look on his face. Nobody said anything. For a little bit there was only the sound of everyone getting ready to eat. Then Maddie Fenton turned to Sirius.

"I've been meaning to ask you," she said to the owner of the house. "Do you know if there's any residue from that boggart creature that was in the drawing room? The one that Phantom got in that fight with?"

"Probably. I just put it all in bags because I wasn't sure what would happen if I vanished it." Sirius said. "There somewhere around the house."

"Huh?" Harry said, lost.

"Phantom sensed something in the writing desk in the drawing room," Sirius explained. "Turns out he had never encountered a boggart before... but he had encountered spirits that transform into someone's worst fear. Evidently the best way to deal with them was overwhelming fire power..."

"I've never seen something burn, freeze, and disintegrate before," Tonks said from opposite Harry.

"It took ages to clean everything up," Ginny added. "At least it took care of the doxy infection in the curtains."

"Alright, I think I got it," Danny said. He and Sam where reading a book at the table together. Danny turned to his empty goblet and pointed his wand at it.

"Aguamenti!" He cried out.

The goblet filled with sand.

"How does that even work!" Danny groaned, pulling at his hair. "I could have understood fire, ice, or even the thing blowing up, but sand? It makes no sense!"

Hermione waved her wand and vanished the sand. Evidently she had been making good use of her study time.

"Maybe it was the wand movements?" She suggested. "Try it again."

Mr. Weasley, Bill, Jack Fenton, and Lupin, were having an intense discussion about goblins.

"They're not giving anything away yet," said Bill. "I still can't work out whether they believe he's back or not. 'Course they might prefer not to take sides at all. Keep out of it."

"Could they do that?" Jack asked. "From what I've heard Voldemort-" Mr. Weasley and Bill shuddered. "-doesn't really like corporal magical non-humans."

"Considering all the business they do with the old families, there's a chance they could get away with it," Bill told the muggle.

"I'm sure they'd never go over to You-Know-Who," said Mr. Weasley, shaking his head. "They've suffered losses too. Remember that goblin family he murdered last time, somewhere near Nottingham?"

"I think it depends on what they're offered," said Lupin. "And I'm not talking about gold; if they're offered freedoms we've been denying them for centuries-"

"But would Voldemort offer them? Would he even pretend to?" Jack asked. "If he's anything like mundane racists and facists..."

Harry's attention turned to a gale of laughter from the middle of the table. Fred, George, Ron, Tucker, and Mundungus were rolling around in their seats.

".. . and then," choked Mundungus, tears running down his face, "and then, if you'll believe it, 'e says, ''ere, Dung, where didja get all them toads from? Cause some son of a Bludge's gone and nicked all mine!"

"Ah," sighed Tucker wiping a tear from his eye, "everything does sound funnier in a British accent."

Molly Weasley came over and began to scold the crook. Her sons hid their faces in their butterbeers. Mrs. Weasley shot a nasty look at Sirius before going to fetch pudding. Harry looked at his godfather.

"Molly doesn't approve of Mundungus," said the Animagus in an undertone.

"How come he's in the Order?" Harry inquired quietly.

"He's useful," Sirius muttered. "Knows all the crooks-well, he would seeing as he's one himself. He gets the Fentons all sort of things that would be impossible for them to have otherwise. He's very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out of a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around."

During pudding Harry turned to Danny and Sam.

"So what house do you houses do you think you two will be sorted into?" He asked the two newcomers to the magical world.

"We've already been," Sam replied.

"Huh?"

"Transfers don't get sorted at the ceremony," Hermione explained. "Think about, you don't remember anyone other then first years being sorted do you? No transfers get sorted a head of time. It helps to avoid some of the trouble that comes from arranging their schedules."

"Oh," Harry said. "So which houses did you two get into?"

"Ravenclaw," Sam said proudly. "Which is cool. There should be plenty of people to help me with magical history and old languages."

"Gryffindor," Danny said in a surly tone.

"What's wrong with Gryffindor?" Harry asked. He had never run into someone who was disgruntled to be in Gryffindor before.

"It's not that," Danny explained. "The stupid hat could've at least thought about it for a second. I resent the implications in its' fast decision."

Pudding continued and then ended. The waist-band on Harry's jeans were feeling uncomfortably tight. He lay down his spoon and noted the general lull in conversation. Mr. Weasly was leaning back in his chair, looking replete and relaxed. Tonks was yawning widely. Ginny was playing with Crookshanks. Mrs. Fenton was leaning against her husband who was patting his stomach. Danny and Sam were engrossed in their spell book. And Tucker was...

...having another helping of everything. No wonder Mrs. Weasley thought him a challenge. Where did he put it all?

"Nearly time for bed, I think," said Mrs. Weasley on a yawn.

"Not just yet, Molly," said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start finding out everything that we could let you learn about what Voldemort's up to."

"I didn't know what would be confidential and what wouldn't be-" Harry began. There was a change in atmosphere in the room. All of the Fentons, including the children sat up straight, eyes becoming focused as if there would be a fight soon. Lupin set down his goblet, looking wary. "And since nobody would tell Ron and Hermione anything-"

"And everyone was right not to tell them things!" Mrs. Weasley said. "You're all too young!" She was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched upon its arms, every trace of drowsiness gone.

"That hasn't seemed to matter before," Danny spoke up. Mrs. Weasley turned the full force of her glare on him. "Eep! Shutting up now!" Danny slunk down in his chair, shrinking in on himself.

"He's got a point," Harry added. "And I get we're not allowed in the Order, but I just want to ask some questions-"

"He's been trapped in that muggle house for a month," Sirius continued for his godson. "He's got a right to know what's been happen-"

"Hang on!" George interrupted. Then Mrs. Weasley's glare turned upon him, somehow growing in intensity. "Never mind," George finished.

"Mrs. Weasley," Jazz began diplomatically. "Look at it this way. I'm a muggle and I know more about what's been going on then Harry does. Don't you think he deserves to be brought up to speed?"

"I'm sure Ron and Hermione have told him everything he needs to know," Mrs. Weasley said to Jazz civilly.

"Which might not be enough," Sirius continued. "He's involved in this more then they are." He was polite, but Harry got the impression that he was preparing to have a fight. Against Mrs. Weasley? Harry gave a brief prayer for his soul.

"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" Mrs. Weasley said sharply. Her normally kind face was setting off all sorts of survival instincts in Harry. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said I suppose."

"Which bit?"

"The part about not telling Harry more than he needs to know!"

The people not involved in the fight were watching the argument like it was a tennis rally, eyes following each volley. Harry thought he saw Mrs. Fenton keeping score. Was it something about red haired families or red haired women?

"I don't intend to tell him more then he needs to know Molly," Sirius returned. "But he was the one who saw Voldemort come back. He has more right than most to-"

"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix! He's only fifteen and-"

"- And he's dealt with as much as most in the Order. And more than some-"

"No one's denying what's he's done! But he's still-"

"He's not a child," said Sirius impatiently.

"He's not an adult either!" Mrs. Weasley shot back, the color rising in her cheeks. "He's not-"

"But he is becoming one Molly," Jack cut in. "He's going to have to deal with all this soon."

"My husband is right," Maddie added. "You might not being doing him any favors."

"Who asked you!" The Weasley mother snapped. "Dumbledore must have had his reason for not wanting Harry to know too much and speaking as someone who has got Harry's best interests at heart-"

"He's not your son," Sirius said quietly.

"He's as good as," said Mrs. Weasley fiercely. All the anger, all the frustration, all the bitterness that Harry had been feeling that day melted away at that statement. He knew it was the perfect time to step in.

"Mrs. Weasley," he said gently, feeling more serene than the had since Voldemort came back. "You have no idea what it means to me to hear that."

Mrs. Weasley relaxed a little bit, blushing gently.

"But they're right. I'm going to have to deal with this sooner or later." Harry continued. "Voldemort's coming after me personally. During my last four years at Hogwarts, each year I've gotten entangled with his leftovers, and now that I'm back there's no way that I can avoid getting involved with him this year. So I want to do it on my own terms for once. I don't want tragedy to take me unawares again."

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley said softly. "You shouldn't have to worry about such things. You're still at school and the adults responsible for you-"

"The ones that care about me have a tendency to die or become fugitive due to circumstances between me and Voldemort," Harry cut in. "I don't want that to happen to you."

"Harry you don't need to-" Molly began, but Harry gently overrode her.

"Look, I know why Dumbledore didn't want me knowing some things. I've got no way to protect my mind from any passing Legilimentist and that made me a security threat over at the Dursley's. But now that I'm here that's a rather moot point. And other things he probably didn't want me to know to stop me from running away from the Dursley's and getting in over my head. But once again that's a moot point because I'm here now." Harry explained. "I get that there's a lot of things I shouldn't know, but there's also so much that I should."

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley began. She took a deep breath and sighed. "Do you really feel that way?"

"Yes."

She walked over to him and wrapped him in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have to worry about all this-"

"But I do. I'm sorry, but I really need to do this." Harry told her, returning her hug.

"I don't agree with it, but I suppose it's better to let you ask some things," Mrs. Weasley released him from the hug and returned to her seat. "But only some things." She looked at her children and Hermione and sighed. "And I suppose you'll probably tell them everything you hear, won't you. Because you're a very good and sweet boy and they're your friends."

"Well, I don't know about sweet," Harry replied. "But yeah, I'd tell them."

Mrs. Weasley looked at the Fentons, Tucker, and Sam.

"They've had their own struggles," Jack Fenton told her. "Amity Park has had plenty of large scale ghost problems."

Molly sighed.

"Okay," Sirius began, looking a little relieved. No one entered a fight with Molly Weasley without some apprehension. "What do you want to know? Actually, could you answer one question for me first?"

"Alright."

"About what you said before... is that why you signed up for all those healing courses this year?"

"Pretty much," Harry replied, looking down at his lap. It was an awkward subject for him. "I mean if I was any good, I might have been able to help Cedric."

"Harry, there wasn't anything you could have done-" Mrs. Weasley tried to comfort him.

"It was only the Lesser Killing Curse," Harry said, raising his voice. "If I had some sort of training-"

"Lesser Killing Curse?" Danny interrupted. "There's more then one type."

"Not until the last war," Lupin informed him. "Before Voldemort there was only the Killing Curse. But after he invented the Greater Killing Curse-"

"What's the difference?" This time it was Tucker who asked.

"Well, let me explain a bit about the Lesser Killing Curse," Lupin began. "It's a jet-type spell with entropic properties that stops all vital functions if it hits a human target, and it can be used by any moderately powerful wizard. If it hits something other than a human it destabilizes and releases entropic and free energy. It's technically an unblock-able spell because any attempt to block it with a wand like one does with other jet type spells causes it to explode and that close to the wizard it's just like being hit with the spell itself. However if one uses a shield spell or conjures something solid, with enough distance between them and the curse, one can easily stop the spell. A shield spell or any other magical defense with be disrupted by the entropic energy, and free energy would damage a solid object, but the curse will be expended. And if one gets hit by the spell, if a healer moves fast enough, they can revive them. You muggles do it all the time with patients who are technically dead. In fact its easier to revive them using muggle techniques."

"The Greater Killing Curse," continued the werewolf. "The Greater Killing Curse is an entirely different story. Only Voldemort knows its nature. All we know are the effects."

"What are they?" Danny Fenton asked, eyes sharp.

"Everything dies. People, magic, and even stone, die and turn to dust," Lupin informed the boy. "He's even managed to permanently kill a phoenix with it once. It's not a jet-type spell either. It's more like a wave. I've seen Voldemort wipe out entire rooms full of wizards and golems with it before. Dumbledore once managed to slow it down by ripping up a heavy stone floor and conjuring a hill behind that, but that's it. He only slowed it down. And only one person has ever survived it." He glanced over at Harry.

"He can also use a single person variation," Harry added. His mind flashed back to the night the Dark Lord returned.

Harry had never seen such a foul shade of green before. He had always associated green with things like grass, friendly snakes, his mother's eyes, the forests around Hogwarts... He had never associated it with death before. But that was the only thing that the foul, sickly green of the Greater Killing Curse reminded him of. Voldemort had shaped it like a fiery bullet, compressing all of the dread energy of the curse. But even he couldn't fully contain it in that shape. Rings of sickly green fire had radiated out from the bullet as it sped towards Harry. When the fire had touched the grass, the grass withered, died, and then became dust. The ground beneath the grass had disintegrated and had been blown away by the wind from the curse.

To Harry it looked like a monster with one glowing green eye was charging, obscuring its' body in the dust it kicked up. An unstoppable force which broke even the earth.

All Harry could do was oppose it with the tiny jet of red light that had been his disarming spell.

And in the end his choice to fight had been what had the only thing that mattered.

"But enough about that," Harry shook the memory out of his head. "Where's Voldemort? What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the muggle news and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything-"

"That's because there haven't been any suspicious deaths yet," answered Sirius, "not so far as we know anyway... And we know quite a lot."

"More than he think's we do anyway," said Lupin.

"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry asked. He knew that Voldemort had murdered more then once last year alone.

"Because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself at the moment," Sirius informed his godson. "It would be dangerous for him to do so. You messed up his come back something fierce you see."

"How?" Harry asked. All he'd done was escape.

"You weren't supposed to survive!" Said Sirius. "Nobody apart from his Death Eaters was supposed to know he'd come back. But you survived to bear witness."

"And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return was Dumbledore," said Lupin. "And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once."

"And I take it that helped?"

"Thanks to you Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix, the only organization composed completely of wizards capable of fighting in the front lines, the organization blessed with nearly unlimited phoenix reagents."

"So what's the Order been doing?" Harry inquired.

"Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans and gather our own strength."

"How are you gathering strength?"

"Well we've been recruiting the younger Ministry personal who believe us, such as Tonks here," Sirius said. The clumsy Auror waved cheerily. "Kingsley Shacklebolt as well. And then there was the jackpot we scored with Phantom..."

"We were just moving to protect the Fentons here," Lupin told Harry. "Voldemort was planning on moving against them you see and I was sent to warn them and offer the Order's aid. I was also supposed to inform Phantom about the threat to his town and ask him for help, but no one expected him to agree the way he did. You see during the last war, we left the spiritual front to the Ministry. Dealing with spirits can be rather difficult and the Ministry has the trained personal to handle it. But Phantom, for whatever reason, is a remarkably human like spirit."

(Danny hid a grin.)

"Thus we were able to bring him into the order without problems," Lupin finished up.

"Phantom is our greatest front-line asset," Sirius said. "And with the proper support, he's potentially just as great as a covert asset as Snape. He's going to make a huge difference in this war."

(Danny managed to hide his blush.)

"And then there's the Fentons themselves. Those whose inventions challenge magic itself." Sirius nodded his head respectfully. "Mortals who conquer the immortal without the use of magic."

Jack and Maddie blushed.

"They've been building devices for us," Sirius continued. "Devices that the Death Eaters won't have any idea how to handle. Devices that can bypass wards and guarding spells. Machines that can stop magic. It's wonderful."

"Sounds like Voldemort doesn't have a chance," Harry joked, grinning.

"Well he's got his own plans," Lupin spoke up.

"How d'you know hat his plans are?" Harry asked quickly.

"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," sad Lupin, "and Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate."

"So what does Dumbledore reckon he's planning?"

"Well, firstly, he wants to build up his arm again," Sirius explained. "In the old days he had huge numbers to command. His core of loyal Death Eaters, the armies of weaker dark wizards and witches, a great variety of Dark creatures and mindless spirits, and his army of constructs. You heard him planning to recruit the giants; well they'll be just one group he's after. He's certainly not going to take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters."

"So you're trying to stop him from building his armies?"

"We're doing our best," said Lupin. "But Snape can't reveal the location of where he's building his constructs without tipping Voldemort off."

"And we've been trying to convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard," said Bill. "It's proving tricky though."

"Because of the Ministry?" Harry asked. "Cause of what they're printing in the Prophet and what they've done to Dumbledore?"

"Exactly," Bill said.

"But why is Fudge being so stupid?" Harry questioned, frustrated. "I know he's a politician and all, but if Dumbledore-"

"And there's the problem," Mr. Weasley said with a wry grin. "Dumbledore."

"How's he a problem?" Harry inquired, growing frustrated once more.

"From what I've heard," Jack Fenton spoke up. "The short answer is that Fudge's jealous and scared. He knows that if Albus had wanted his job he'd have had it. Fudge knows our guy is smarter and more magical then him."

"Which is why he pestered Dumbledore for advice." Harry nodded.

"Right. But now your Minister has grown to like power and he's telling himself that he's the smart one and Dumbledore's making a mess to take it from him."

"Just why?" Harry grit his teeth.

"Cause he doesn't want to deal with all the trouble of Voldemort being back," Jack continued. "Our politicians do stuff like that all the time back in America. Well, publicly at least. For something like this there'd probably be people handling it privately and away from the public eye."

"But, but, just, arrggh," Harry rubbed his forehead. Maybe the impending doom from either Fred and George being able to Apparate or Hermione becoming the Study Lord wasn't a bad thing. Cleanse the world with pranks and homework! "But if Voldemort's trying to recruit people, it's bound to get out that he's back, isn't it?"

"Voldemort doesn't march up to people's houses and bang on their front doors, Harry" said Sirius. "He tricks, jinxes, and blackmails them. He's well practiced in operating in secrecy. In any case, gathering followers is only one thing he's interested in, he's got other plans too, plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed, and he's concentrating on them for the moment."

"What's he after apart from followers?" Harry asked swiftly. Sirius and Lupin exchanged a very fleeting glance.

"Stuff he can only get by stealth."

Harry looked puzzled.

"Like a weapon," Sirius continued. "Something he didn't have last time."

"When he was powerful before? Something that might be worse than the Greater Killing Curse." Harry held up his hands. "Alright, I'm guessing this is confidential and where I should probably quit asking questions."

"You're right Harry," Mrs. Weasley pounced on his admittance. "All of you should get to bed, now." She looked at Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione. "And I know you two have to study," she said to Danny and Sam. "But could you do that somewhere quiet."

"Can do Mrs. W," Danny replied.

"Alright," Sirius said. "I guess we've said enough for now. I'll see you in the morning Harry."

Harry nodded and joined his friends in heading to bed.

AN: Managed to write this chapter while waiting for the beta's to get back to me on Symbiosis. It's somewhat easier to write this at times; for one I don't hold myself to the same chapter format as I do for Symbiosis, and for another it's easier to reference a book than a show.

My brain feels empty now. Ugh, I hope that's not an omen or anything.