"Good one, Neville," Harry said, as Hannah Abbott's Stunner bounced off his Shield Charm and onto one of the targets on the walls; Cedric had led a session on targeted deflection to go with Harry's Stunner and Shields plans, with rather mixed results:
Now, right at the end of their meeting, Harry was starting to see genuine progress, but there'd been a lot of people Stunned in the crossfire during the first two hours. Harry suspected there'd be bruises and headaches in abundance at breakfast the next morning… not that anyone seemed too concerned by that; the room was full of laughter and good-natured ribbing, but beneath it there was an underlying determination and focus. After a week on edge in the castle, it was a welcome change.
"Harry."
Harry ducked as a stray spell fizzed past, and turned to look at George, who was holding the Map.
They'd been taking turns keeping an eye on the school tonight, and, earlier, Fred had noticed Umbridge and a handful of mostly-Slytherins, including Hydrus Malfoy, having a meeting of their own.
"They're on the move," George said.
"Back to Slytherin?" Harry asked.
"Doesn't look like it," George said grimly. Crabbe, Goyle, and Hydrus' dots were leaving McGonagall's office… with McGonagall and heading upstairs. Harry scanned the rest of the Map; Daphne, Pansy, and Nadia were in Flitwick's office, and Montague and Warrington were heading—if Harry wasn't mistaken—to Hufflepuff with Sprout.
He and George exchanged a look and then Harry clapped once, loudly, while George headed for Ron.
"We'll finish there," Harry said, when the forty-something heads in the room had turned his way. "Everyone's made really good progress tonight, and we'll do some more of this next time, but we've got wind of Umbridge being on the move, so we need to get everyone back. We'll have you leave in the same groups you arrived in…"
Five doors appeared on the wall, four of them bearing House crests, and the fifth a book:
"Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin, and the library," Ron said. "If you bunch up by your door, we'll let you know when it's safe to go through…" George was at his shoulder with the Map. "Okay, Hufflepuff first, quickly…"
"Should I go with them, or you?" Runcorn asked; he'd arrived via Gryffindor with Harry.
"Them, I think," Harry said. "Saves you a walk." Runcorn nodded and fell in behind Justin.
"Thanks, Potter," Ernie said pompously, patting him on the shoulder as he passed.
"Thanks, Harry," Susan agreed, looking curiously through the doorway at the stairs to Hufflepuff.
"Ravenclaws here!" Fred called. "Follow Chang, that's it—"
"Slytherins, you're on your own," Draco said, ushering them through their own door. "I'm going straight back to Gryffindor tonight…" Hermione shot Harry a nervous smile and led the library contingent out.
"Right: Gryffindors— slow down, blimey, we can't all go through at once…"
Harry followed Ron and Fred through the Gryffindor door once everyone else was gone; they walked down a dim, narrow corridor which forked at the end.
"Girls that way," George said, pointing at the door on the right, "and lads here, but wait…"
"Bloody useful, this…" Seamus muttered, eyes following Lavender. "Certainly beats trying to get past that stupid staircase…"
"Ow, who's standing on—"
"Sorry!"
"It's clear!" Ron called. "Go, go!"
There was a flurry of near-silent movement; Harry was the last of the boys through, and as his feet touched the floor—of the very busy fifth year boys' dormitory—the doorway they'd come through melted into nothing.
"Get back to your own dormitories," Draco whispered, looking over Rons' shoulder. "We've got a minute at most!"
The other boys trickled away in groups and Harry and the other fifth years hurriedly pulled off their ties and kicked off their shoes. Neville even went as far as to change completely into his pyjamas, and Ron pulled on one of Mrs Weasley's knitted jumpers.
Harry watched McGonagall's dot—flanked by Hydrus, Crabbe, and Goyle—approach Gryffindor tower. To his great surprise, all four of them entered.
"Here we go," he muttered. "Mischief managed." The Map cleared and a moment later, McGonagall's voice echoed magically through the dorms:
"Gryffindor students report to the common room, please."
Harry led the fifth year boys out onto the landing that overlooked the common room and saw Hydrus do a double-take at the sight of him. Harry raised his eyebrows and shared a look with Ron and Draco, who seemed to have noticed the same.
"The Hogwarts High Inquisitor has requested a curfew check," McGonagall said curtly, "and sent members of her Inquisitorial Squad along to oversee the process." She unfurled a roll of parchment that Harry hadn't noticed until then. "When I call your name, you are to confirm your presence. Starting with the first years… Adler, Rebecca?"
As she worked her way through the list, a small handful of students returned—Hermione and Katie Bell among them—and one or two students from other houses left in the final minutes before curfew.
"There," McGonagall said, as George—the final seventh year—announced himself. "All of Gryffindor appear to be accounted for—"
"What about Runcorn?" Hydrus had leaned close to McGonagall to ask, but Harry could still hear him.
"Ethan Runcorn?" McGonagall asked, looking confused and a bit angry. "I wouldn't know, as he's not a member of Gryffindor House—"
"Someone mentioned seeing him up this way," Hydrus said. "With Potter." Hermione—much closer to McGonagall and Hydrus—could also obviously hear them; she shot Harry a wide-eyed look.
"Well, it would appear he has since left," McGonagall said crossly, and Harry felt a surge of affection for her, "as he's clearly not here now."
"I'd like to ask Potter about it," Hydrus pressed, and made to step around her, but she held up a hand to block him. Hydrus lifted his own hand to adjust something small and silver pinned to his robes. McGonagall's lips thinned.
"Mr Potter, a moment?" she said and Ron made a soft sound of surprise. Draco frowned. "The rest of you may return to your evening activities—thank you for your tolerance."
"It's fine," Harry murmured, and went downstairs, weaving around people heading back up to their dormitories or to the couches by the fire.
"Mr Malfoy is concerned about Mr Runcorn's whereabouts," McGonagall said, when Harry reached them.
"That's nice of him," Harry said flatly, glancing at Hydrus. The silver thing on Hydrus' robes was a new pin—a simple I about the size of Harry's thumbnail. Hydrus smirked when he noticed Harry looking at it.
"He has suggested you were with him," McGonagall said.
"He came up here for a bit after dinner, yeah," Harry said. It was clear they'd been watched, so there was nothing to lose by admitting to what they already knew.
"But he's gone now?" Hydrus asked.
"Obviously," Harry said.
"Where'd he go?"
"Probably back to Hufflepuff since it's almost curfew," Harry said.
"Funny that no one saw him leave," Hydrus said, staring hard at Harry.
"I did," Harry said evenly.
"If he's not been marked as present in Hufflepuff, we'll be coming back with questions," Hydrus said.
"Sure," Harry said. "Though I'm not sure how you think I can help; I've been here all night."
"So you say."
"Yeah," Harry said. "I do."
"Was there anything else, Mr Malfoy?" McGonagall asked, with poorly-concealed impatience.
"Not for the moment," Hydrus said. He jerked his head and Crabbe and Goyle, then reached out and plucked the Gryffindor attendance list out of McGonagall's hand. "The High Inquisitor thanks Gryffindor House for its cooperation tonight."
"Stop checking the time," Hermione hissed, lowering her book for just long enough to give Harry a pointed look. "You look like you're up to something."
"I am," he said and grinned, but made a conscious effort to drop his arm—and watch—into his lap where he couldn't be tempted to look at it; Hermione was—as usual—right:
If Umbridge decided to do another curfew check tonight, not only would she discover Harry, Ron, Cedric, Stebbins, and the twins missing, but Snape and McGonagall too… but Draco and Hermione would be in the Room with the Map and a message parchment, ready to write to them the moment anything looked like it might go wrong, and Kreacher could drop anyone back to the school that needed it.
Draco snorted and turned to Ginny:
"Are you joining us tonight?"
"Wasn't planning to," she said, pouring a dollop of custard into her bowl. "Apparently Umbridge is doing another round of inductions for the Inquisitorial Squad, so I was going to take the cloak and see what I can find out."
"Espionage, She-Weasley? I'm impressed."
Harry was not; his stomach had lurched unpleasantly at the idea of Ginny putting herself within Umbridge's reach… even if Umbridge would be oblivious to her presence the entire time.
"If you're caught—"
"I won't be," Ginny said, arching an eyebrow. "I told you, I'm taking the cloak."
"But the Map's going to be with us," Hermione said, chewing her lip.
"I won't need the Map," Ginny said. "Everyone we're worried about is going to be in the room with me."
"That's comforting," Harry said sarcastically.
"I thought so," she said loftily. She poked her pudding, then glanced at Harry, tone more uncertain: "I thought it was a good idea, trying to find out how they work and what she's telling them."
"We know what she's telling them," Draco said, sounding grimly amused. "That Potter is the cause of everything wrong with Hogwarts and there's a Head Boy or Girl-ship for whoever can catch him doing anything that merits expulsion."
"Sounds about right," Harry said, snorting. He sighed and turned back to Ginny. "It is a good idea," Harry said, running his hand through his hair. "Just…" It was just that it was Ginny. He couldn't say that though—she'd quite rightly tear into him if that was the only reason… and it sort of was. She was perfectly capable—doubly so with the cloak—and she wasn't thick, either; she'd get herself out if she thought things were going wrong. There was no good reason to worry any more than he would if Hermione, or Draco, or Ron had announced they were planning to do the same. "Just be careful," Harry muttered.
"Obviously," Ginny said, and returned to her pudding. Her scent was both pleased and relieved, but quickly turned calculating; her eyes were on Umbridge.
Another scent caught his attention; a thoughtful sort of curiosity, coming from Hermione. He looked up to see her watching him.
"What are you reading?" he asked, figuring that was the cause. "Contractual magics…?"
She blinked and glanced down at her book.
"I'm trying to make sure there are no loopholes in the Eihwaz contract," she said. "I'm almost positive Umbridge got a tip that made her do that curfew check." Harry thought about how surprised Hydrus had looked to see him in the common room, and thought she might have a fair point. "I know we've vetted the group, but now that the Inquisitorial Squad exists, it's possible there might be a few people who change sides, and I just want to make sure we're all as protected as possible."
"If there's anyone there who shouldn't be, I'll let you know," Ginny said. Hermione smiled fleetingly.
"Well—" Draco began, but he wes interrupted by a gentle throat-clearing:
Dumbledore had arrived. Harry almost tripped over the bench in his eagerness to stand; Draco sniggered, but Hermione smelled like she thought it was sweet.
"Say hello to Sirius and the others for us," she said in an undertone. Harry grinned at her.
"Indeed we shall," Dumbledore said. "All ready, Harry?"
"Yes, sir," Harry said, and couldn't help a glance back at the teacher's table; Umbridge was watching their departure with narrowed eyes.
"Reckon she'll try anything?" Harry muttered when they'd left the Hall.
"I very much doubt it," Dumbledore said, though he too kept his voice pitched low, "since doing so will achieve very little and she knows it. She cannot finagle her way into listening into whatever conversations she believes you and I will be having, nor can she force her way into my office to disrupt us if I do not let her, and she cannot punish you for being out—even past curfew—if you have me to vouch for you. I think we should be quite safe."
Neither of them spoke again on their way upstairs; it felt to Harry like they had an unspoken agreement not to say anything that could be overheard by the wrong person or portrait and reported back to Umbridge.
They didn't speak much when they got upstairs, either; Dumbledore shut his office door and then held out an arm to Fawkes, who swooped over from his perch. Harry ran a hand down the bird's warm, crimson back, and then—after glancing at Dumbledore—curled his fingers around Fawkes' tail feathers. Fawkes gave a musical trill and Harry shivered, and then the office vanished behind orange heat.
When Harry's feet found solid ground again, it was on the floorboards of Grimmauld's hallway, and he could smell home.
A weight he hadn't realised he'd been carrying dropped away; there was no Umbridge here, no portraits to eavesdrop, no Inquisitorial Squad—
Something collided with him with unbelievable force and then Harry was being squeezed:
"Ouch, sorry, that was rougher than I intended…" That was Padfoot's voice, somewhere near Harry's left ear. Harry returned the hug just as tightly and Padfoot chuckled.
"It's nice to see you too, Sirius," Dumbledore said, sounding amused.
"Oh, you're here too?" Padfoot said, releasing Harry to grin at Dumbledore. They shook hands. "Thanks for bringing him."
"Sometimes it's best to be conspicuous," Dumbledore said.
"Are Ron and the twins here, yet?" Harry asked Padfoot.
"Yeah, arrived about five minutes ago." They'd flown from the owlery to outside the Hogwarts grounds, then apparated, but Harry was glad to hear they'd made it. "Cedric and another boy, too. You and Dumbledore were the last…" Padfoot looped an arm around Harry's shoulders and steered him into the Order's meeting room, where a warm chorus greeted them.
Dora and Stella were the first to reach Harry, but Moony and Mrs Weasley weren't far behind. Fleur was next—she broke away from a conversation with Cedric to kiss Harry's cheeks, and then, stepped aside to make room for Percy and Mr Weasley, who came to shake Harry's hand, and Bill who clapped him on the shoulder:
"I've been thinking more about Marks," he said in an undertone. "if you can stick around for a bit after the meeting, we might be able to have a go…?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Brilliant, thanks." Bill smiled and went to sit down beside Fleur, who looked pleased by that. Others were taking their seats too—Harry headed to Padfoot, who'd acquired Stella sometime in the last minute or two, only to be intercepted:
Matt pulled Harry in for a tight and somewhat unexpected hug, scent almost overwhelmingly grateful:
"Thank you. I know what you did, and— thank you."
"Any time," Harry said, figuring Matt was talking about the last full moon.
Harry sat beside Padfoot, who clapped him on the shoulder with the hand not wrapped around Stella, scent distinctly proud.
"Made it all right?" Ron dropped into the seat on Harry's other side.
"Yeah," Harry said. "You?"
"Yeah." He noticed Stella and pulled a funny face, waving. She cackled delightedly.
"If I could call the Order to order," Dumbledore said in a soft voice that carried as well as if he'd shouted. His expression was calm and fairly serious, but there was amusement in his scent, and his eyes twinkled when a few people in the room chuckled at his joke. "I would like to thank you all for taking the time to meet this evening," he said, as everyone settled. "I know for many of you, that doing so comes at a risk to your safety or reputation, and so I will endeavour to make our time together worth it."
Any playfulness in the room was gone now; everyone was sombre and silent.
"Since we last met, we have gained three new members, who I would like to introduce to you all. Mr Patrick Stebbins, who like some of our other, younger members, is a student at Hogwarts." Stebbins, seated between Cedric and Dora, gave a little wave. "Mr Sebastian Bexley is in his first year of the Auror Training Program, and his education is in the very capable hands of Aurors Lupin and Shacklebolt." Bexley was vaguely familiar—Harry thought he might have been in Moody's duelling club a few years before. "And Mr Cyrill Quentin." Harry scanned the room and did a double-take at the sight of Quirrell, sitting beside Snape. His mouth tugged up slightly when he saw Harry looking at him. "He has been working with me and against Voldemort for some time, but has now decided to do so in a more formal capacity."
"Cyrill Quentin?" Harry muttered to Padfoot.
"Dumbledore can't reveal him because of the Vow," Padfoot said.
"Right. And why's he joined the Order? I didn't think he was interested." The last time he'd seen Quirrell, they'd discussed the fact that Harry was a horcrux and Quirrell had promised to look for ways to remove or destroy it that wouldn't kill Harry, but that didn't mean he needed to join the Order. In fact, with his side of the Vow obliging him to help thwart Voldemort, whatever the cost, it was probably quite dangerous for him to do so.
"I wouldn't have thought so," Padfoot said. "But Dumbledore's been speaking to him a lot lately, so maybe he's changed his mind."
"Oh," Harry said, leaning back in his chair; he had his guesses as to why. He raised his eyebrows and Quirrell gave him a rather rueful smile and shrugged.
"As you have also likely noticed, in addition to our three new faces, one of our existing faces is still conspicuously absent," Dumbledore continued. "Hagrid remains abroad with the giants, though probably not for much longer." Dumbledore looked troubled. "I expect he'll have returned to us by our November meeting."
"Is he safe?" Moony asked.
"Safe enough, last we spoke," Dumbledore said, "but his situation is increasingly precarious; Macnair is leading the Death Eater envoy, and those of you who've dealt with Macnair know he's a rather violent and unpleasant individual."
"There's an understatement," Moody snorted. "Him and that damned axe…"
There were sounds of grim amusement and agreement from several people around the table—particularly those who worked at the Ministry.
"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "Percy, shall we come to you next?"
"Certainly, Headmaster," Percy said briskly. He pushed his horn-rimmed spectacles up his long, freckled nose, demeanour all-business. "As many of you are likely aware, I've secured myself a position as the Minister's Junior Undersecretary, which gives me a rather unique opportunity to observe traffic in and out of his office. Most notably, Lucius Malfoy comes by at least twice a week." Percy hesitated. "I do not believe that the Minister is deliberately in league with You-Know-Who—"
"He's no Death Eater," Padfoot said, scowling, "but he's been warned about Malfoy enough times that—"
"There's certainly willful ignorance at play?" Percy suggested. He gave Padfoot a faint smile. "Yes, I quite agree." Padfoot snorted, amused, and gestured for Percy to continue. "Which lends itself to my next point; that I do not believe the Minister has taken any actions yet that are not his own… which is to say, I don't believe he's being blackmailed, bribed, or that he's under the Imperius curse."
"He's just a fool, then," Amelia Bones said. "Headmaster, have we considered a coup? With things as they are, You-Know-Who essentially has the Minister's ear and he's doing everything he can to discredit you—"
"Actually, Lucius is mainly focused on Harry," Percy said. All heads, predictably, turned to look at Harry. "The Minsiter will never ally himself with the Headmaster—there's too much pride there, and too much ongoing frustration fuelled by what's going on at Hogwarts…"
"Harry's involved in what's going on at Hogwarts as much as Dumbledore is, though, Perce," Fred said.
"I have no doubt," Percy said, glancing at Harry, who grimaced. "Don't get me wrong, the Minister doesn't especially like Harry, but he thinks—if the Headmaster were out of the picture—he could use him."
"Good luck," Ron muttered.
"Lucius," Percy continued, "obviously realises that's dangerous for them, so he's working to convince the Minister that Harry's a rising Dark Lord, or at the very least, out to overthrow the Ministry and seize power for himself. You're a public figure, and a popular one," Percy said, speaking directly to Harry now. "I think that scares them both, for different reasons."
"I don't want power," Harry said into the silence that followed, "but overthrowing the Ministry might not be out of the question if they keep carrying on like this; if they're against us—against me and Dumbledore, particularly—they're essentially supporting Voldemort—"
"I wouldn't go quite that far," Sturgis Podmore said, frowning.
"I would," Quirrell said, surprising Harry. "And I'd wager He—" There was such emphasis on the word that there could be no mistaking who he meant. "—would too."
"I'm certain he does," Dumbledore said. "We are too busy fighting the Ministry to fight Voldemort properly, and the same is true of the Ministry while it focuses on myself and Harry."
"We're not fighting the Ministry, are we?" Hestia looked taken aback.
"We are at Hogwarts," McGonagall said stiffly.
"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "The situation with Dolores Umbridge continues to worsen. She is still very much working to remove me from the school. Only recently she has established her own personal force at Hogwarts, and—as it consists of students—it's not one I'm certain how to tackle." Harry wondered how Ginny was doing on her self-appointed information gathering mission, and hoped she was all right. "The students joining are generally those whose families have already sided with the Ministry, and so are not likely to give me—or other Hogwarts staff—an insight into what's going on or what their approach might be. Similarly, punishing students for going along with Dolores' agenda seems unfair—"
"We're working to get people on the inside," Cedric said, and Dumbledore turned to look at him. "My girlfriend Cho's being inducted tonight with her friend—" Harry raised his eyebrows at Cedric. "—and so are some of my friends in Slytherin—Adrian Pucey and Terrence Higgs. I imagine we'll have something to report next time we all get together, and depending on how you—" He looked at Harry now. "—want to handle it, we might be able to do more than that. Feed them false information, for instance."
"Shame Hogwarts wasn't this exciting when we were going through, isn't it?" Bill asked Dora, who made an amused sound.
"You're taking instructions from Harry now?" Padfoot asked Cedric, looking amused himself. Cedric went still and said nothing more. Beside him, Stebbins winced.
Padfoot glanced at them, then at Harry, seeming more confused than suspicious. Harry thought they might be able to get away with leaving it at that, but then Mrs Weasley spoke:
"Fred? George?" She was frowning at them, and the far-too-innocent expressions on their faces.
"Ron?" Mr Weasley said, though Ron did a remarkably good job of not looking guilty and Mr Weasley joined his wife frowning at the twins.
The door creaked and Kreacher let himself in, several trays and plates of sandwiches and pastries floating in his wake. He set them evenly along the table, squeezing Harry's knee in greeting as he shuffled past, and then bowed and stepped out again.
"Is there something you'd like to share, gentlemen?" Dumbledore asked.
"I… don't think so?" Cedric said, and all eyes went to him again.
Harry sighed:
"We've started our own student group," he said. Padfoot raised an eyebrow at him, but Harry was mostly speaking to Dumbledore. "When we realised we weren't going to be learning anything from Umbridge we figured we'd teach ourselves."
"You did mention that," Padfoot said, nodding. "I'd figured it'd be your usual bunch, but if the rest of you are in on it, I'll assume it's a sort of Hogwarts Order branch?"
"Not exactly," Harry said. "There are others too."
There was a pregnant pause; some in the room—like Doge and Podmore—looked impatient, like they couldn't see how this related to Order business—and it didn't, completely—while others—like Quirrell and Fleur—looked curious despite that. Others—like all of Harry's family, the Weasleys, and the Hogwarts staff—looked exasperated or amused, or some combination of those.
"Lots of others, actually," Fred said into the silence.
"About fifty of us," George added, reaching for a sandwich.
"Sounds like a good recruitment opportunity for the Order," Emmeline Vance said thoughtfully.
"There might be some interest in the group," Cedric said, glancing at Harry, "but that's not what it's ultimately for. It really is just about teaching people to defend themselves. If they want to use that to fight, brilliant, but if they want to use that to stay well clear of it all, that's fine too."
"That's incredibly noble of you all," McGonagall said stiffly, though she was mostly looking at Harry, "but have you considered the repercussions you would face if Professor Umbridge found out—"
"Honestly, I think it looks scarier if we don't do anything and a heap of unprepared kids end up in a war," Ron said.
"Besides, Umbridge can't be upset about what she doesn't know about," George said, which Harry thought was rather bold, since it seemed like Umbridge was already suspicious, even if she didn't know exactly what was going on.
"We're keeping a pretty low profile," Fred agreed.
McGonagall looked from Mrs Weasley to Padfoot—both of whom looked despairingly proud—and said nothing more, though her mouth turned down with what Harry could tell was worry.
"Low profiles seem like a fitting segue to Severus' update," Dumbledore said, when no one else said anything more on the matter.
"There is little to share," Snape said. "The Dark Lord has been reclusive since early September. He has contact with Crouch and with Pettigrew and no one else—myself included—while he focuses on this new project of his. And no," Snape added, glancing pointedly at both Padfoot and Harry before they could say anything, "I am unfortunately not privy to what that project is." Harry looked at Dumbledore who looked troubled, though this was probably not new information to him. "Crouch and Pettigrew are likewise occupied with a project of their own, and despite my efforts, neither are willing to divulge the details. Others within the Death Eater ranks have been equally unsuccessful at getting them to share more than this; that whatever they are working on is intended to be a Christmas present for the Dark Lord, and there will be a chance for others to be involved in due course."
"Sounds ominous," Padfoot said. He looked at Harry, who gave a small shake of his head; Snape's news was news to him. Voldemort had been quiet lately; Harry had stopped dreaming about the Department of Mysteries shortly after he broke the prophecy orb, which made sense, but nothing else from Voldemort had replaced it. Harry'd been so preoccupied with Umbridge that he hadn't noticed or minded, but now that he thought about it, this past month was probably the quietest Voldemort had been for over a year.
"Indeed," Snape agreed. "Lucius—as already covered by Weasley's report—seems to be focusing his efforts on keeping the Minister from allying with the Headmaster or Potter, and the rest of the Death Eaters remain active; I won't waste time describing their general activities, as anyone with a Daily Prophet subscription ought to be well-appraised of the current situation."
"Dementor and werewolf attacks and muggle killings might not be worth describing, Snape," Moody said, "but they're still worth discussing."
The conversation that followed was predictably bleak and disheartening, though there were a smattering of bright patches throughout, where either the Order or the Aurors had managed to intervene and save someone (or several someones) before the Death Eaters got to them, or before they were incurably hurt.
It was late by the time Dumbledore called the meeting to an end.
The mugs of tea and coffee Kreacher had brought in shortly after Snape's update now sat empty or cold, and people around the room were starting to yawn. A gentle comment from Dumbledore kept Harry, Padfoot, Moony, Dora, and Quirrell in the room while the others trickled out into the hallway, not that moving much was an option for Harry; Stella was asleep and dribbling on Padfoot's shoulder, but she had a deceptively tight hold on Harry's sleeve, as if to keep him from leaving while she slept.
"This will only take a few moments," Dumbledore said, "but I wished to speak with you, Quirinus, about Albania. As you are aware, we are trying to locate and destroy Voldemort's horcruxes—" Padfoot, Moony, and Dora all looked rather surprised to learn he knew about horcruxes, and Harry was relieved that none of them interrupted to ask why. "—and doing so means identifying places or people of significance." Quirrell inclined his head, eyebrows raised:
"We've had conversations about Albania before," he said.
"With your limited cooperation," Dumbledore said, which Harry took to mean they'd happened before he made the Vow. "You have told me previously that you met Lord Voldemort there before the events of Harry's first year, and that Voldemort had been there for some time already—possibly since the events of that rather fateful Halloween." Dumbledore's eyes went to Harry's scar and he smiled sadly, but was businesslike again a moment later. "Do you know what drew him to Albania?"
"No," Quirrell said. "But I have guesses; in the clearing where he spent most of his time, there was a skeleton—it was not overly old, or if it was, it was very well preserved. I always assumed it was a victim of his, and therefore that the clearing was a place where he'd triumphed and felt powerful."
"Do you know who this victim was?"
"No," Quirrell said.
"There was nothing to identify them? And Lord Voldemort did not allude to their identity?"
"It wore an old pendant with the Ravenclaw crest on it," Quirrell said.
"A descendant of Ravenclaw's, then?" Moony asked.
"Unlikely," Quirrell said. "Since that line ended with Ravenclaw's daughter, well before His time."
"The trinket," Dumbledore said. "Is there any way to know if it was authentic or not? Did Voldemort take it with him when you returned to Britain?"
"It's authentic," Quirrell said. "It belonged to Ravenclaw's daughter, though who knows how many hands it's been in since then… And no, he didn't. But I did." Dumbledore started to speak but Quirrell shook his head. "It's no horcrux—I checked, once I became aware you were looking for them."
"The clearing," Dumbledore said. "Could you find it again, if you had to?"
"Of course," Quirrell said, arching an eyebrow. "But I don't think you'll find anything there, if that's what you're hoping. The only thing from Albania that He considered to be of any value was the snake—Nagini—and he took her with him, or so I believe…?" He glanced at Harry, who shrugged and nodded.
"He didn't leave anything behind?" Dumbledore probed. "Any trinkets of his own?"
"Not that I'm aware of," Quirrell said.
"Then, for now, we shall consider the Albanian possibility exhausted," Dumbledore said, "and continue to focus on locations closer to home. You are all aware Harry and I searched the Chamber of Secrets, to no avail, and I know you, Sirius and Dora, have visited Lord Voldemort's former home—the orphanage—this week." Harry turned to Padfoot and Dora, surprised.
"Also to no avail," Padfoot said wryly. "It's all muggle office buildings now. Unless it's buried, or—"
"No," Dumbledore said. "If a horcrux was ever there, he'd have moved it now; Voldemort seems to choose locations or people of significance, and office buildings—muggle office buildings, no less—mean nothing to him, and are a nod to his history that he would surely rather avoid association with. I thought it unlikely, but we would have been foolish not to check at all."
"Where next, then?" Moony asked. "Not that I'll be the one going…" He said it without bitterness or self-pity, which—given he was essentially stuck in Grimmauld Place to avoid giving Wormtail any opportunity to call in a Life Debt—surprised Harry a little.
"He terrorised those kids in the cave where the locket was," Dora said slowly. "We could try to find out where those kids are now—they might know other places he liked."
"Worth exploring," Dumbledore said. "As, in my opinion, are his followers. We know he trusted Lucius Malfoy enough to give him the diary… it's possible he has entrusted other horcruxes to others. Barty Crouch, for instance, or Peter."
"My cousin Bellatrix and her husband were up there during the war," Padfoot said. "Though I'm not sure how you'd go about checking what any of them have or don't have—if Bellatrix and Rodolphus had horcruxes they'd probably have been found by the Ministry when they were arrested, or they'd be locked up in Gringotts where none of us can get to them."
"We might be able to get access—we're family," Dora said.
"If she was dead, maybe," Padfoot said. "But even then, you can bet Narcissa's set to inherit. We'd have to contest the Will. While she's alive… no chance." He sighed. "As for Crouch and Peter… we don't know where they are, let alone where their things might be or how to get at them."
"What about the Riddle House?" Harry said quietly. Everyone went rather still and the looks they directed his way were wary and sad.
"Once upon a time, perhaps," Dumbledore said softly. "But I daresay he would have relocated anything there when he himself left in June; he had to know the Ministry and Order would search the house and grounds, and we did, but we didn't find anything."
"He might have gone back since, though," Harry said reluctantly. "Or he might have moved one of the others there… places of significance, and— well, it is now." He rubbed a hand over the stump of his left wrist, and the burn on his chest twinged in remembered pain.
"Significant, yes," Dumbledore said. "As the place of his resurrection and a sanctuary for him for some time prior… but it is a place where you defied him and, ultimately, escaped him. I doubt very much he would consider it a place he felt empowered."
Harry agreed with that much, but also felt Voldemort might be willing to overlook his own mixed feelings on the matter in favour of Harry's decidedly negative ones; that night had cost Harry a lot more than it had Voldemort. He didn't really want to get into that, though, so said nothing more. Padfoot glanced his way, frowning slightly, but didn't say anything either.
"Same's probably true for Godric's Hollow," Moony said, sharing a look with Padfoot.
"He wouldn't have put anything there since, no," Dumbledore said. "But beforehand… A horcrux tucked away as Voldemort went to destroy what he perceived to be his biggest threat, and ensure his victory… I do not think we can rule it out, however unlikely it may be."
"We've been in Godric's Hollow since, though," Padfoot said. "To the house, and the graveyard, and never found or felt anything… You were there in June, after…" His eyes darted to Harry and away again.
"Regardless," Dumbledore said, "we ought to rule it out entirely."
"Well, we have enough to keep us busy for a bit," Dora said. "Sirius and I can do Godric's Hollow, and try to track down some of the other orphanage kids. Unless you'd rather do that yourself, Headmaster?"
"No," Dumbledore said after a pause. "You may do some preliminary investigation, but if you do encounter a horcrux—or even a suspected horcrux—I advise you not to do anything more until you have alerted me. As you know from your experiences with the locket and the diary, horcruxes are well able to defend themselves, and that's notwithstanding whatever other protections Voldemort may have put in place around them." He smoothed down his robes. "I shall keep my focus on things at Hogwarts, and also continue to work with Quirinus and Harry on the door situation."
Padfoot gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze and Harry did not look at him, or at Moony or Dora.
They filed out into Grimmauld's Hallway, where Harry was not entirely surprised to find a good number of the Order were still lingering; Cedric and Stebbins were talking to Fleur, and Ron and the twins were talking with Mr and Mrs Weasley, though the twins beelined for Moony as soon as they noticed him. Snape was gone but McGonagall had remained, and she approached Harry and Padfoot, lips pressed into a thin line.
"If this is about Eihwaz," Harry started, but she shook her head:
"Allow me some plausible deniability, Potter," she said, arching an eyebrow. But right then, Dora—who'd reacquired Stella—gave Harry a tight hug around the shoulders from behind:
"Look after yourself, eh?" she said. "We'll see if we can't get up to see you on a Hogsmeade weekend, or Quidditch match."
Harry gave her arm a squeeze, and then curled his fingers over Stella's little fist, and then she stepped past them, headed for the stairs.
"I wished to speak with you both about Potter's performance in my lessons," McGonagall—who'd waited patiently for Dora to move on—said. Padfoot raised his eyebrows.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, equally confused; Transfiguration was one of his best subjects and that hadn't changed since returning for fifth year.
"In my opinion, you are not doing nearly as well as you ought to be," she said. Harry thought that was rather unfair, and opened his mouth to say so, but she held up a hand. "That is not your fault," she said, "but rather mine, for failing to realise sooner." She gave Padfoot a beady look, scent half-proud, half-exasperated. "Again." Padfoot's own expression went completely blank at that, but there was a gleam in his eye, and Harry suddenly realised what they were talking about; it seemed McGonagall, like Dumbledore, was now operating under the—correct, but unconfirmed and unspoken—assumption that Harry was an animagus. He found he didn't really mind. "Moving forward, I shall endeavour to see that Potter is properly challenged in my subject, and thought you ought to know—his grades may slip in the short term. I have given Molly Weasley the same warning with regard to Mr Weasley."
"Ron'll be at a disadvantage," Harry said.
"I see," she said after a moment. "I'll drop him back down to O.W.L. content if he's not able to keep up." She gave Harry a look that was curious, infuriated, and resigned all at once, then pursed her lips. "In the meantime, I recommend both of you use some of the discretion you have clearly employed to great success in the past, and keep this development from our High Inquisitor."
She gave Harry a pointed look and swept away.
"I don't know if that's a punishment or a reward," Harry said.
"Probably a bit of both," Padfoot said, shrugging. "So Ron's not…?"
"No," Harry said, surprised.
"Didn't think so," Padfoot said, "but then, you might have done it without telling me…"
"Is this your way of saying you're mad I didn't say anything about Eihwaz?" Harry asked, giving him a sideways look. Padfoot cracked a smile—clearly he wasn't mad—but he didn't make any effort to hide his worry either:
"I think it's a brilliant thing you're doing… mostly," he said. "Teaching people to protect themselves is important, and the Ministry's not doing much on that front unless you're an Auror trainee… but don't forget you'd be out of Hogwarts quicker than you could say Protego if Umbridge got wind of it." Padfoot grimaced. "Just… make sure you're protecting yourself too. And your friends—they'd follow you into anything, have your back against anything… but that means they'll go down with you, too, if it comes to that." The smile Padfoot gave Harry was fond and proud, but a little sad, too. "That's a big responsibility, and I know you'd never abuse it, but you've still got to be careful."
Harry thought of Ron and Runcorn in the Room, of Hermione making it in just in time for McGonagall's curfew check, of Draco openly mocking Umbridge. He thought of Ginny, sneaking around after Umbridge tonight.
"I know," Harry said, and meant it. "I—" He and Padfoot both turned around at an odd, rattling sound; Mrs Weasley had cornered the twins and was shaking a small, brightly coloured box at them.
"What were you poking around upstairs for?" George asked, scowling.
"I went to pick Stella up from her nap while the others were setting up," Mrs Weasley said, scowling just as fiercely back. She shook the box again. "Explain yourselves."
"They're Remus'," Fred said immediately. Harry saw Moony—over by Bill and Dumbledore—glance over at his name.
"I very much doubt Remus has any need for thousands of boxes of 'Fainting Fancies'," Mrs Weasley said crossly. Padfoot snorted.
"He's our distributor," George said. "Can't risk Umbridge confiscating our supply, so we're using Grimmauld as a base."
"Does Sirius know?"
"'Course he does," Fred said. "He thinks it's brilliant."
"He's right," Padfoot said to Harry, grinning.
"Of course he does," Mrs Weasley sighed, giving Padfoot an exasperated look. "Well, I can't tell him what to do in his own home, but I can tell the two of you not to bother Remus. He has more important things to be doing than sending owls with your jokes—"
"Like what? He can't leave the house," Fred said.
"And it's not fair of you to exploit that," Mrs Weasley said. Padfoot snorted again.
"We're not exploiting him," George said, looking offended. "We've hired him. We pay him." Harry caught Moony's eye, eyebrows raised. Moony shrugged, expression a little too innocent.
"I— beg your pardon?" Mrs Weasley asked, blinking.
"He handles our owl orders," Fred said. "He was doing a bit of testing for us, but he reacts differently to things—because he's a werewolf, we think."
"He's helping us with product development, too," George said. "Coughing caramels were a stroke of brilliance—" Moony grinned at that, mostly to himself, but winked when he saw Harry looking.
"They were half my idea," Padfoot grumbled to Harry, but didn't seem overly put out. "Itchy allsorts were Moony's, but I'm not actually sure he's had a chance to chat with the twins about them yet… Communication in and out of Hogwarts has been fairly disrupted, lately." There was a dark note to his voice that meant he was clearly still upset about Harry's mirror having been confiscated, but that was all right, because Harry was too.
"I brought my parchment back," Harry said, reaching into his pocket. "It's not the same, but until I can get my mirror back, it's better than nothing. I can borrow one from one of the others if you want to talk." Padfoot took it, scent relieved and grateful.
"If you haven't got your mirror back in another week, we might have to see about liberating it," Padfoot said thoughtfully.
"I've thought about taking the cloak and going to look for it," Harry admitted.
"I was thinking something less subtle," Padfoot said. "A raid from the Auror Department, maybe. Or I could go in as Padfoot… take the mirror and leave something far less pleasant in its place." Harry laughed and Padfoot grinned, then glanced at something behind him. "You were going to catch up with Bill, right?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "He wanted to try something with the Mark…"
"Hopefully something that works," Padfoot muttered. He nudged Harry. "Go on, before it gets too late. But make sure you come and say a proper goodbye before you go."
Hello everyone,
Just a little note to say that yes, I am alive and well, and sorry for the long wait - it's just been an insanely busy few weeks on the real-life front, and I've struggled to find time and motivation to write.
Hopefully this chapter - a nice long one! - makes up for that a little!
I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things over Christmas and New Years once I have some time off work, so I don't think it'll be anywhere near as long a wait for the next chapter as it has been for this one.
Sorry again, and thanks for your patience and for all the lovely messages and reviews over the last few weeks.
MarauderLover7