Harry was trying not to get distressed as the dream continued. He had heard of sleep paralysis, because there was a time when he thought that Daphne was suffering from it, but usually the patient could see while in that state. For the moment, there was nothing to do but follow the kids out of class. It was strange to him, how small they all were; he could hardly believe he had grown so much in just a few years. They acted in a way that was so innocent and carefree, even more so than the kids on his last year... the last year that he actually attended.
"Where have you two been?" Hermione asked when she saw them. He was not sure if it was a real memory, but he knew there was no point in it. There was no point in revisiting something like that. What was even happening? Was it some trap by Voldemort again?
"No... I'm using Legilimency on myself... somehow. It's the active defense. I know he isn't here. I'm completely conscious and I don't feel his presence."
If he was in his own head, then there was no point to it, not unless he had found some way to completely protect himself at night. He would certainly take being stuck in some fake memory rather than at the mercy of the dark wizard who killed his parents. Walking to where he remembered the Defense room was for that year, he followed a strange sense coming from his own scar. Could he really go into his own mind? Did he have to be dreaming?
"Professor Quirrell," he said. "It's just where I thought it was, on the ground floor, right at the Transfiguration-"
"Wh-who are you?" he asked.
"You don't recognize your own student?" He frowned. If there were really a piece of Voldemort trapped somewhere inside him, he would think that it would hide in the old host. "I'm here for a dragon's egg. Do you still have one?" The man practically jumped.
"You c-couldn't have s-seen my face," he said. "How d-did you know?" Perhaps he was aware his reaction confirmed it already.
"I wouldn't worry about it," he said, reaching out and grabbing him. As had happened years earlier, burning red bands appeared on his wrist. He struggled, but Harry refused to let go.
"You're killing me," he said.
"I know. I won't regret it."
He wondered how much control Quirrell still had over himself, but it really did not matter; in the first place he had taken a sabbatical to go on a grand tour, specifically to look for whatever remained of Voldemort. Perhaps he had some idea that he could simply be a great wizard, or that he could even use partnership with the late dark wizard to his own advantage, but that would only make him as idiotic as Harry had been in his fifth year. There was no one who had trouble standing up to his colleagues who would be able to stand up to one he called 'master'; he would not even have to use dark magic or a trick or anything like that to get him under control.
When the target died, he woke up without another thought passing through his mind. He would have thought that his bed would be surrounded, but it seemed like less time had passed than he perceived. Could it still have been sleep paralysis? There was only one expert, or really anyone who knew anything, he could consult.
"Hermione," he said, approaching her. She was having a cup of tea and reading a book, which was a common thing for her. "I trust you're... have you found out the cause of your condition?"
"No. At this point I'm using Legilimency on myself just to move around. I'm so lost I can only stay lucid for a few hours every day. I think that Daphne and I were struck with an ultimately temporary condition and all we can do is just work on it and maybe get through it one day." She took a long breath. "I spend every spare minute researching whatever I can, but..."
"I have no idea if this might interest you, but... I only just woke up from a dream in which I appeared to be trapped, fully aware of what was going on. I knew it couldn't be sleep paralysis. It was a memory, and yet..."
"Was there something different about it?" It did not look like she was all that interested and he was tempted to back out.
"Well, I was surrounded by a bunch of first years, and one of them was Tom Riddle. Then-"
"Was this another trick from-"
"No, no, I wouldn't have been completely conscious; I would have been dreaming. I would have been fully aware, but just an observer." He took a moment to think about it. "I only started to feel his presence when I went to find Quirrell in his classroom. I killed him, and then I woke up."
She dropped the teacup she was holding. Someone else would use the repair charm and fix it.
"Please, continue. What else happened? How did he get in the dream?"
"It changed from a scene where I was watching a young Riddle in school... and then I was watching a young version of myself. I knew where to find the Defense classroom, because that year it would have been on the third floor, but they moved it to the ground floor-"
"Did he say anything to you?"
"He... seemed like he was playing dumb or something. I killed him by taking hold of him... like last time. I can't tell you why I thought that was necessary, but I couldn't wake up."
"Harry... that was some kind of... I don't entirely know what that was, but keep me updated. There might be more that you have to do in order to get over this... I don't know what it could be, but it can't get done in first year."
"Hermione, I told you all that because I thought it might be something similar, something that you might be able to use; I don't think it was anything inherently useful; I was just trapped in my head-"
"I know. I just want you to-"
She collapsed mid-sentence. Michael scowled at him out of the corner of his eye, and levitated her to the makeshift hospital wing on base. They had been trapped there for days and he was basically one of the only people who had a clue what he was doing; members of the Order were more knowledgeable about certain things, but they would not work with him if he kept barking orders out of frustration, which seemed to be directed at everyone. It seemed like he got an awful combination of a lot of responsibility and very little respect and there was only so much he could do with that.
"I'm sorry about this," he said as he helped get her to bed. "I only tried to help her with something, and it seemed like she was pushing it to stay awake already."
"Of course," the Healer muttered. "Needs justify treating people like they're just tools. They're just there to see to your needs. After all, you need them, so who are they to complain about it?"
"I don't approve of the way the Order's responded to the fact that you've made a mistake here and there." The other young wizard glared at him over the body of the unconscious witch. This time, there was no side-eye treatment. "They've just slapped a charge of irresponsibility on everything we've done because there hasn't been anyone over thirty in the top brass, which is probably what they were hoping would happen when we announced we were opening to recruits and implementing a rank system. They think we're cheating the 'proper adults' out of their ranks. I talked with Tonks about it; that answered everything I didn't pick up on before that."
"Aren't we?" Michael asked. "What would be the point of starting a resistance movement if we couldn't lead it? What would be the point of joining one led by the famous Harry Potter if he didn't have a rank so high you couldn't get to it?"
"That's the basic problem," he muttered. "They wanted me safe from my own stupid decisions last year and they were right about how I could have cost them everything. The one who was really right, more right than most of them for keeping things from me, and more right than I was for insisting on doing things on my own was Dumbledore; he made the call to keep me in the dark until I learned Occlumency, but there were countless times he could have stepped in and shut down what we were doing with the DA. There's no way he didn't know about it. It would have even improved his standing, slightly, with the Ministry. He knew that in order for me to learn, I had to be allowed to make mistakes, and he chose not to intervene when I was making mistakes that he could clean up after."
Harry was shaking his head and Michael could only respond with an open-mouthed stare. He looked away after only a moment. A few diagnostic spells were enough to tell that there was nothing wrong with Hermione; she was just unconscious again. Based on the fact that Daphne's bed was empty, he guessed she was doing a little better with it as well.
"They can communicate in their sleep," the Healer said. "It's like they're in the same memory the whole time."
"If only. They might be able to work something out more quickly like that. The only thing that seems to be working for them is the Legilimency, and I think they might have saved my life with it."
"What do you mean?"
"There was a Death Eater who was supposed to take me to his master. Instead, he took me to the middle of nowhere and I took the chance and killed him. I'm certain that... I don't know how they did it, but they must have put some other idea in his head; maybe they didn't even realize they were doing it."
"It's true that his behavior would otherwise make no sense," Michael said. "What if he was some kind of inside man, though? Isn't it possible that some organization sent him to infiltrate-"
"No, not really. Snape thinks he's getting pushed out."
It was one of the only Order meetings he had been allowed to attend in the last few days. Voldemort's confidence in his double agent was decreasing. Most likely, he claimed that the location of the base was protected by the Fidelius Charm, and he was not the secret-keeper, so he had no power to reveal it, and his hints to its location were unsatisfactory. Giving something of an expert opinion, he said that leaving the Dark Lord friendless again would not necessarily cause him to throw up his hands in defeat. Rather than killing the other Death Eaters, he suggested that it would be better to have their loyalties come into question. After all, part of the reason they feared their master was because of all the others who feared him.
"If even he's having problems, then it's doubtful that someone new would have been accepted... at least not before he lost so many servants." He frowned. "This isn't what we were discussing, but do you think he has any chance of recruiting more?"
"No, and even if he did it would be foolish. The Ministry's the biggest player right now, and if they gave him a reason to admit that he exists, then they'd look at their numbers and be able to announce to the public that it's all well in hand. Even Fudge wouldn't think it would cause a panic."
"Then we have no reason not to believe what you've theorized," he said after a moment. "What should we do with it, though?"
"At the moment, there's nothing to do with it. We're just wasting time. Anyway, Susan and I have somewhere to be. We're meeting with Dirk Cresswell. I'm just happy that I could wake up for it." He took a breath before retrieving her by going to the grave site, where he found her staring at Hannah Abbot's name.
"I know it's time to leave. I just..."
"Was there something between you?"
"It only went one way. Technically, this doesn't change anything." She sniffed. "She was the same way with you."
"I'm... not that surprised," he said after a moment. "It seemed like she didn't like me so much as she wanted me to be...strong... in charge."
"I can sympathize, in a way. It's strange. Don't get me wrong; I didn't hold it against you. I didn't have a chance in the first place."
"Well, I'm not here to lecture you about your personal life, but I do think I should warn you about staring into the Mirror of Erised. What you want from someone else might not be the same as what he or she wants."
"There's no more time. We have to see the Ministry contact."
They left without a moment of hesitation. Apparating took all the travel time out, so they had accustomed themselves to leaving right when they had to be there. In certain ways, wizarding society was slightly more efficient than muggle society; there was somewhat less of an excuse for being late to things, at least among adults. The man met them at the same cafe they had observed earlier.
"So, did you find anything of interest in my flat?"
"We didn't search it," he lied. It was more of a way to make sure that he was just tricking them, and that their methods of covering up after themselves were effective.
"Nice try; that really wasn't a trick. The goblins have their own methods of seeing if anyone's come and gone." He shrugged. "As you probably noticed, I didn't have anything that might interest you, but needless to say, I don't appreciate it. Have you ever had your things searched?"
"I've had worse. Have you ever had an institution sabotage your education?"
"Oh, you wouldn't believe it. The goblin rebellions were completely misrepresented." He frowned. "Tell me, how was I meant to start a career when the first time I met them, everything I said was laden with inaccuracies?"
"I didn't write the textbooks. I don't represent anyone who did."
"What's this, then?" he asked, bringing an old history book out of his coat. "This is Early History of Wizard-Goblin Relations by Henry Potter. It's painfully laden with what can only be called moral cowardice. There's not a single deliberate lie in here and yet your great-grandfather could never once go against the prejudices of the day. Reporting only the facts, and yet failing to select facts that contextualized the conflicts, it's obvious what happened."
"Well, I suppose I'm the last Potter around, so if I get any royalties from that, then I'm sorry," he said. "Are these texts still being used in schools?"
"No, because there have been other books since then, but it would mean a lot to me if you were to denounce all this. I really don't care about the royalties; it's probably not much at this point. I'll freely admit that substantially more useless textbooks have been written and put before kids at Hogwarts and I'm glad I didn't read them, but I'm sure you're aware that combat should be treated as a last resort for solving problems."
"That's not a matter of awareness," Harry said after a moment. "I agree that there's a lot that you can do to prevent conflicts, like getting the record straight, but it's not because it's been definitively proven to be the optimal historical configuration or whatever you want to call it that we should try to avoid killing people; it's because we should be motivating our actions with love, and that's because it says so in the Phoenix Script. It sounds trite or something even when I say it, but that's what it is. Secondly, not learning combat magic doesn't make combat any less likely and it doesn't represent a desire to avoid it. There has never been a disarmament that actually went both ways. It's only ever a way for an already much larger power to put more pressure on another."
"I was about to say we should get to the reason why we're here, but I suppose we already are. I can see why you're fighting. I can see what you want. It's interesting that you reference the text; I didn't think that someone raised in a muggle society would be religious. In fact, it's almost unheard of."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, sometimes they take their religions in from their world, but they lose the sense of community, or what they find here I suppose makes them question what they believe earlier. Sometimes they weren't religious before, and they usually stay that way. I find it remarkable. Were you religious before?"
"Not really."
"I could potentially see someone converting to a common religion after going to a place where it is practiced to fit in, but you've chosen one that, while evident in some form, is not commonly practiced."
"I hope that the lesson that you're learning from this is that our group took it seriously not because it's popular, or because of where we found it," Susan said after a moment. "We're asking, respectfully, to open a dialogue about where to go from here. The Minister doesn't have long unless he pivots to a position where we now have enough evidence to suggest Voldemort has returned, and the threat is one that can be easily contained."
"Contained?" Cresswell asked. "Do you believe that one dark wizard can defeat the entire Auror Corps?"
"Well, no, but there are reasons why I wouldn't count on it," Harry said diplomatically. There was no point trying to explain anything about the prophecy; it was only a toss-up whether or not the public would believe it. "I'm not here to turn the fight over to them, I'm here to be credited for being right with literally everything. I want a public apology and a warrant out for the Death Eaters and everyone working with them. I want protective custody for any of our muggle family members who might be targeted by the enemy."
"That's certainly a lot," their contact said. "I'm not sure whether or not you're willing to allow old Fudge to save face by acting like it was perfectly reasonable to deny this return."
"Someone has to admit that the Aurors were keeping children hostage in Hogwarts. Someone has to admit that our education was deliberately sabotaged. I want a complete record with names and dates. Someone has to admit that there was a deliberate effort to toss us all in Azkaban."
"I'm not aware of that."
"I'm sure you weren't," Susan said. "It happened, though; we were kidnapped and held there. Granted, you could call us a rebel group at that point, but up until that point, all we had done was defend a few targets and rescue a kid from the school, along with a few strikes against the Death Eaters." She smirked slightly. "I noticed that you didn't react to anything else."
"I heard about that girl and the testimony that she gave. It was in the Quibbler, right? I usually don't read it, but I couldn't help the curiosity when there was some story not about some mad-" He shook his head. "I'm sure you're aware. In any event, it's a tall order. The Minister may decide that you have nothing to offer him; he may decide that whatever intel you have on the enemy is unimportant, with how severely you've already reduced their numbers. I would suppose that the most likely rationale would be the preservation of the norms of the system and its order."
"Then there will be a record of that as well," he said after a moment. "No matter how long it takes, there will be a reckoning for everything."