Tuesday brought the first DA meeting of the summer holidays. Harry had decided that, given the current circumstances, everyone should be able to conjure a Patronus. He had therefore come to the conclusion that he should not confuse them with anything else until he was sure that everyone was happy that they would be able to defend themselves against a Dementor.
“Where is the meeting taking place?” he asked Dumbledore, who had just arrived in the kitchen of 12, Grimmauld Place.
“You can use the drawing-room,” replied Dumbledore.
Harry nodded, but there was another question which had been sitting at the back of his mind for days now, and which was positively burning through his skull.
“Professor?” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “How do we know that… that people aren’t… on the wrong side?”
Dumbledore surveyed him for a moment, and Harry thought that maybe he had over stepped the line when it came to undermining the Headmaster’s intelligence. Dumbledore, however, merely sat down at the table and gestured for Harry to do the same.
“You’re right to ask, Harry,” he said, as Harry took a seat opposite him. “Here, have some tea.” Dumbledore conjured up two cups of tea and gave one to Harry. “Everyone who wishes to come must agree to swear their loyalty to the DA, and not to release any secrets of the Order. Anyone who breaks the oath will find their speech… impaired, shall we say? I’ve left that up to Miss Granger.”
“But won’t it be too late by then?” asked Harry. “I mean, they could have already revealed something to the Dark Side.”
“There becomes a time, Harry,” said Dumbledore, “when we must chose how far we want to trust people. We could present all manner of tests for DA members, and numerous curses and jinxes to punish anyone who went against us. However, if we can’t learn to use our own judgement, we may never know who to trust at a moment’s notice. And plus, if we can’t trust our own friends, who can we trust?”
Hermione appeared in the doorway, looking rather flustered.
“Oh, hello, Professor,” she said to Dumbledore. “We wanted to know where we were going to hold the meeting.”
“I’ll leave you to set up,” Dumbledore said to Harry. “Good evening, Miss Granger,” and he stepped into the fire and disappeared in a swirl of soot and smoke.
Hermione gave Harry an inquiring look, and he led her up to the drawing-room, whose green walls and many tapestries looked, if possible, even more grimy than they had done two years ago.
“I suppose it’ll do,” said Hermione.
Two red heads wandered into the room.
“Mum said you were in here,” said Ron.
“Ew, I’m sure it smells worse than it used to,” said Ginny, screwing up her nose against the musky aroma of years of filth.
“We need more light,” said Hermione, and she waved her wand to produce bright sunshine, which filled the room with a summery glow from no apparent source, and made it feel a lot less oppressive.
They spent a few minutes conjuring up various things: cushions, chairs, and a small raised platform on which anyone could stand if they wanted to speak to the whole room. At five to eight, the door opened, and some familiar faces entered: Lavender, Neville and Seamus all wandered in rather anxiously, peering around at the dusty carpet and the Black family tree with expressions stuck somewhere between fear and wonder.
“Hi!” said Harry. “Where are the others?”
It was as though he had told them that Lord Voldemort would be making a visit during the meeting; their faces dropped, and the wonder was immediately replaced with more fear.
“Um “ er “ “ stuttered Lavender, on the verge of tears.
“They’re not coming,” said Seamus, sounding unusually firm.
“Parvati and Padma are… are in hiding with their parents,” stuttered Lavender, fighting back sobs, which resulted in her getting the hiccups. “And Dean’s… Dean’s…”
“Dean’s dead,” blurted out Neville.
The atmosphere in the room tightened like a piece of string pulled taut. Out of the corner of his ever blurring vision, Harry saw Ginny’s knees buckle slightly, and he grabbed the top of her arm.
“He’s… what?” gasped Ron, but Seamus just stared at him with hard eyes, rarely blinking, his body rigid.
The silence was crudely broken by a muffled hiccup from Lavender, who had covered her faces with vigorously shaking hands.
“He’s dead?” asked Harry, who found that his voice came out in a kind of croaky whisper.
“Never had a chance,” said Neville quietly. “Three Death Eaters against him once his parents were done for.”
“But… why?” whispered Hermione, who had grabbed Ron’s hand and was now squeezing it within an inch of its life.
“Don’t need a reason, do they?” said Seamus bitterly.
Harry felt Ginny sway precariously, and he pulled her into him and put both of his arms around her. Tears formed and leaked from her closed eyes, and she hardly seemed to be breathing at all. Harry leant his head on top of hers, feeling the grief passing between them at an immeasurable speed, and the slow thump of her heartbeat pulsing against his.
The door opened again and a small group of second-years came in, followed by Cho Chang and a few friends. Harry’s mind painfully snapped back to reality “ the DA meeting.
“I can’t do it,” whispered Ginny.
“What’s going on?” asked Cho, noticing the grave faces.
“Don’t be stupid,” Harry whispered back to Ginny. “This is exactly why we have to do it.”
“Harry?”
Cho was watching them, frowning.
“This isn’t the time,” said Harry, and he slid his hand down and interlocked his fingers with Ginny’s.
“No,” said Hermione, who was still strangling Ron’s arm, “we’ll wait until everyone has arrived. Please, take a seat.”
She gestured to the chairs, and a couple of people sat down tentatively. A while passed, in which many more people arrived, until all the chairs were full. Harry moved over to the platform, still holding Ginny’s hand, and they both climbed onto it. Ron and Hermione sat on it at their feet.
“Er “ thanks for coming,” he said, in a slightly less croaky croak than before. “I don’t know how many of you have heard, but “ erm “ Dean Thomas… has died.”
There was a curious murmur throughout the gathering, and Ginny squeezed Harry’s hand a little harder.
“He was killed by three Death Eaters, who I expect would have shown no mercy and who… who never really gave him a chance. But we can… we can only imagine that he did the DA proud.” Harry saw Seamus give a tiny nod, as though reassuring himself that it was true. “And although… although some of you may feel like this is the time to give up, I feel that it gives us all the more reason to fight even harder to make our world right again, and that it would be a discredit to Dean’s memory to do any less than our best.”
A tense silence greeted the end of his words, but then:
“Here, here,” said Ernie Macmillan.
“Too right.”
“That’s exactly what I was going to say.”
“He’s got a point, you know.”
Harry smiled with relief.
“What are we learning today?” someone yelled.
“Yeah, what are we going to do now?”
“By the end of this week, I want everyone to be able to conjure a Patronus,” said Harry. Several younger faces lit up, but many older ones looked disappointed. “I know loads of you can already do it “ most of you, actually “ but it’s pretty hard, which is why I want you all to help each other. If you can already do it, help someone who can’t, and if you can’t, ask someone who can.”
He then explained the basic technique, and people began to group together to work. Harry pulled Ginny to one side.
“Are you going to be all right?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s just “ a bit of a shock, that’s all,” she replied in a small voice.
“I know,” said Harry, “but hopefully it’ll give this lot the enthusiasm to really put their all into what they’re doing.”
Ginny looked hurt.
“So you’re glad he died because it makes your job easier?”
“Oh don’t be stupid,” said Harry, angry that she would even think such a thing. “I’m just saying that maybe something good can come out of this. Of course I’m not glad that he died.”
“Sorry,” muttered Ginny, looking a bit ashamed of herself.
Harry sighed. There was no point getting cross with each other at times like this “ unity, unity he thought, desperately trying not to think of how easily something could happen to someone closer to him than Dean. He put his arms around Ginny and tried to hold her with steady arms, but knew that she would be able to feel him shaking.
“Harry, this kid really needs some help,” said Ron, who had just appeared by their side. “He looks like he’s constipated or something.
Harry and Ginny went to see if they could help him, and sure enough, a small boy with an increasingly pink face, eyes screwed up and breath held, was holding his wand up in front of him with no sign of a result. Ginny suppressed a giggle and her dark eyes twinkled.
“Come here, sweetie,” she said kindly, putting her hand over his on the wand handle. “You want to hold it more like this.”
The boy opened his eyes, and at first seemed highly alarmed at the sight of them both standing over him, then got extremely excited.
“I think I almost did it a minute ago!” he squeaked, and Harry recognised him as the same awestruck first-year that had been so eager to learn in the first meeting a few weeks ago. “Look!”
He crumpled his face up again and determinedly clutched his wand with a white-knuckled hand.
“Stop, stop!” said Ginny, now laughing outright. “You’re meant to be thinking of something happy, not getting all tensed up like that!”
The boy looked somewhat disappointed, but he was soon ready to try again after Ginny had helped him a little further. Harry wandered off to see how everyone else was doing, and was pleased to see that most people who had attended the DA in his fifth year could conjure fairly good Patronuses, and that most of them were corporeal. However, he was a little less heartened by the attempts of some of the younger people there.
“Okay!” shouted Harry, standing back on the platform. “Let’s try tackling this a different way. I want you all to close your eyes “ yes, that includes you, too, Miss Weasley “ close your eyes and forget about the spell.” Everyone closed their eyes obediently. Harry tried not to laugh at the sight of them all standing there facing him like zombies. “Now, think of your happy thought, whatever it is, and concentrate on it very carefully.” Harry thought he saw a flicker of last Christmas flash in front of his eyes, and was sure that it had come from Ginny. “Okay, now, say it like you mean it!”
“Expecto Patronum!” chanted the room.
Fifty shining bright animals lit up the high ceiling with a spectacular explosion of blinding silver mist. There was a gasp as several people conjured their first ever Patronus, and many saw their animal form for the first time. Harry watched as a fox, a horse, a monkey, a leopard and a whole herd of other protectors galloped and flapped and padded through the air. Ginny opened her eyes and grinned at the success of the group, and Hermione was clapping her hands with glee.
The Patronuses gradually faded away, but a couple of disappointed faces were still trying to produce them.
Finding his voice, Harry cried: “Excellent! Really excellent! Don’t worry if you didn’t manage it this time, that was brilliant for an early attempt!”
He was so overwhelmed by the effort that everyone was making, that by the end of the evening he was suitably tired and well ready for a good night’s sleep.
“Well that was well worth our time!” said Hermione, as the four of them mounted the stairs and headed up to their bedroom.
“I don’t half feel tired now, though,” said Ginny, yawning widely.
“Well you were working hard this evening,” said Harry.
Ron scowled and Ginny elbowed him hard in the ribs.
“I reckon loads of people can do it now,” said Ron, rubbing his side.
They got to their bedroom and changed into their pyjamas, still discussing the best parts of the evening.
“And then Seamus produced that amazing Patronus!” squeaked Hermione happily. “I don’t know how he did it, what with “ “
She stopped talking abruptly and her face dropped. No one spoke as they got into their beds and fell asleep, one by one.
A/N: Please review or send me an email if you have any comments. xxx hattiepotter xxx