Disclaimer: As always, if you recognize it, it's not mine. All names, settings, and inspiration belong to the exceptional J.K. Rowling.
THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX:
“Wotcher, Hermione!”
“Tonks!” Hermione shouted as she ran to give her a quick hug. “How are you?”
Tonks’ smile faded from her face. She cast deliberate glances behind her, and to Hermione’s horror, she saw Mrs. Weasley buried in Mr. Weasley’s shoulder, sobbing audibly.
Harry and Ron gave each other a nervous glance as they watched Hermione walk slowly towards the pair of them.
“Ermm-” she mumbled tentatively. “Mrs. Weasley?”
Mrs. Weasley looked up and immediately began drying her eyes on the back of her robes. This did nothing to hide her bright, puffy eyes.
“Hermione, dear,” came her muffled voice. “Oh, please forgive me… I’ve been doing so well today, but seeing everyone here and knowing Pe- Per-”
Hermione’s eyes were growing bright now, and frown lines began making their slow descent down her cheeks. She gave a small hiccup, but covered her mouth with her hand.
“Oh, no dear, don’t you cry now… I don’t think I could control myself if you cried,” said Mrs. Weasley.
“I- I’m so sorry… I don’t know what t- to say…” Hermione managed.
Mr. Weasley reached out and gave Hermione a firm grip on the shoulder.
“He was a really fine wizard… and- and they’ll pay, Mrs. Weasley, I- I swear they will,” she mumbled through her tears.
“Oh, darling!” Mrs. Weasley wailed as she pulled Hermione into a tight embrace. Mr. Weasley looked as if it were taking all his strength to just breathe.
When Hermione finally pulled away, she was deafly aware that every eye in the room was on her.
“H- have you met McKinnon, Hermione?” Mr. Weasley asked in a hazed tone.
“Oh, no… umm, hi- how do you do?”
“Quite well, thank you,” McKinnon smiled warily. He gave the distinct impression of a pompous old man, the sort to yell at you for walking too close to his finely kept lawn. He was tall and frail looking, though with a rather strong chin.
“He’s an Auror… and this here is his partner, Flarine…”
Hermione shook hands with a young witch who sported long, dark brown hair and round russet eyes to match. And so the introducing process went on for a good fifteen minutes. After meeting the new members, Hermione was greeted by Fred and George who looked, for the first time since Hermione had known them, very depressed. They both managed smiles, as did Bill and Charlie, but the air surrounding them did not deceive their true feelings. Mad-Eye gave Hermione a rather startling wink as she moved past him to say hello to Lupin, Kinglsey, and another stately looking wizard Hermione had never seen.
Ron and Harry had taken seats at the enormously long, dark wood table that was located square in the middle of the room. Slowly, the rest of the Weasleys- Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George- gathered around on each side. Hermione took a place next to Harry and played with her fingernails as a nervous twitch. The whole table was somber, yet everyone spoke in politely interested tones.
“I wonder what Snape has to report,” a witch named Daniella Conustra whispered from across the table.
“Report? Report my fat ass,” spoke Flarine. “No need to report. We know what’s going on, don’t we McKinnon?”
McKinnon merely took a sip from his gilly water. Flarine gave him a disgruntled look. “Well, at any rate, I’ve had enough with reports and procedure, and- and protocol… I say we track ‘em down and give ‘em a nice right slap of avada kedavras, if you ask me…”
“Here, here!” called Fred and George.
Hermione couldn’t help but notice how strange it was sitting in on a meeting. Her, Harry, Ron, Fred and George had been given more lead way since the start of term, but they’d never been officially invited to sit in as an Order member.
Just then the door to the room creaked open as Dumbledore stepped through, wearing long, midnight black robes that were speckled with tiny silver stars. Closely followed behind him were Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, and Hagrid.
“All righ’ you lot?” Hagrid asked with a flourish. Several of the new Order members were staring at him with looks of mingled shock and awe. Dumbledore conjured a great, tall chair for him directly across from Ron, then motioned for the stragglers to sit.
He gave Harry, Ron, and Hermione a weak smile before beginning.
“Welcome, everyone. I’m thoroughly pleased we’ve managed to organize this meeting, and even more so that so many were able to attend,” his voice boomed around the room. Then, with a grave sigh, he continued. “However, before we begin, I’d like to say a few words. Firstly- I’m sure I speak for everyone in the room when I say that we extend our sincerest apologies and deepest regrets to the Weasley family.”
A few heads turned to look at them.
“They recently lost a beloved member of their family to Voldemort’s ranks. Percy was an exceptional wizard with talent and ambition to spare. His presence continues to be strongly felt through the love his family keeps for him. Let us never forget Percy, for his story is the one for which we fight. We fight for the innocent, the unknowing victims of brutal hate. And, the time will come when Percy’s- and other’s- memories must inspire us to go forth,” Dumbledore finished and allowed his words to sink in.
Mr. Weasley gave Dumbledore an appreciative nod as the other Weasleys cast tired looks around the table.
“On a lighter note,” he finally resumed after an extended minute. “We have some business to take care of before I begin informing everyone on what is to be done. We have a few new members, as it were, to introduce.”
Hermione, Harry and Ron looked expectantly around the table at Conustra, Flarine and McKinnon. Only, they did not stand or make any movement to indicate it was they to whom Dumbledore was referring.
On the contrary, they seemed to be staring back at them.
“Fred and George Weasley, please stand and make yourselves known,” Dumbledore said with a smile.
They stood, slightly shocked, and smiled around the table. Dumbledore clapped and the rest followed suit.
“These two young yet brave men are of age and have been, errr… persistent, one could say, that they join immediately.” Dumbledore’s eyes sparkled.
Once they had sat back down, all faces turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione.
“Mr. Ronald Weasley and Ms. Hermione Granger have both played key roles in the past six years in assisting the Order through various ways. Whether is be taking on three-headed dogs,” Hagrid’s chest puffed up. “…Giant Wizard’s Chess sets, or the grime of Headquarters, these two have most definitely proven themselves worthy and capable,” he finished.
Hermione and Ron stood to a polite applause.
“I daresay our last member needs no introduction- Harry, if you please?”
Harry stood slowly, casting awkward glances around the room of fifty or so faces.
No one clapped. Everyone seemed transfixed in awe as they stared avidly at Harry; some, such as Lupin and Hagrid, wearing distinctly prideful grins.
“This, to those who need reminding,” Dumbledore stared pointedly at Flarine, whose mouth was hung slightly open. “…Is Harry Potter.”
Dumbledore began clapping, and the newer members were slapped out of their trance. Snape pretended to ignore Harry’s presence, but everyone else’s applause grew louder and louder. One by one, beginning with Hermione, Hagrid, and Ron, the whole of the Order of the Phoenix stood out of admiration.
The room was on its feet. The clapping was almost deafening, and Hermione beamed as she noticed Harry’s cheeks grow red. He gave a sheepish smile as his hand instinctively shot up to straighten his hair. Mrs. Weasley’s eyes were bright once more, but this time out of pride. Lupin gave him a wink, and Dumbledore, who clapped loudest of all, smiled the largest smile Hermione had ever seen.
Finally- for the first time ever- Harry Potter was being recognized for the deeds he’d done and the person he was; and not as simply “The-Boy-Who-Lived”.
**********************************************
Malfoy stared at the man in the corner of his common room with an opened, disbelieving mouth.
“Close your mouth, son. Malfoy’s do not gape,” Lucius sneered.
But Malfoy still could not utter any sensible words.
“You’re wondering why- or more accurately, how- I am here. Are you not?”
Malfoy continued to stare, trying to force his mind to remain calm. What if he found out about his friendship with Granger? What if he learned of all his hidden thoughts about him, about the Dark Lord? It’s quite likely- he’s a skilled Legilimens.
“Wager a guess, Draco,” Lucius continued.
Malfoy’s mind raced. He closed his eyes and flashbacks of the past week flew through like little slides. There had to be a clue… had to be a reason…
One thing was for sure: the Kiss had never happened. There’s no way to return a soul once a dementor has it.
So why did the Daily Prophet- wait…
“The Daily Prophet,” Malfoy murmured as he opened his eyes. His heart has sunk from his chest and was sitting somewhere in the pit of his stomach.
“Yes, very good. The Daily Prophet,” Lucius snickered approvingly.
Malfoy looked up to meet his father’s eyes. So, the Daily Prophet had lied? They’d reported mistaken information? But that still did not answer why…
“Oh, come now, Draco. Surely you can guess why?” Lucius asked. Malfoy hastened to drop his gaze once he figured out that his father was using Legilimency.
Lucius sighed.
“You’re very disappointing. Allow me to explain, then,” he said as he began pacing around the common room.
Malfoy inched away and placed himself as close to the door as possible. Lucius paused near the chess set that had stopped playing minutes before, and twirled the white queen between his fingers.
“The Dark Lord had me place the Imperius curse on a number of the Prophet’s most distinguished writers. I then told one- Skeeter, I believe her name was- to write the article on four Death Eaters receiving the Kiss. This, of course, signaled victory for Dumbledore’s ranks in more ways than one. Not only were four very prominent and powerful opponents removed from the spectrum, but the dementors had also signaled their defiance against the Dark Lord. Of course, this makes Dumbledore feel a bit more at ease. He thinks the Dark Lord has lost followers- both Death Easters and dementors,” Lucius finished as he placed the queen back on the board.
“B- but Fudge…” Malfoy stuttered.
“Ah, yes, our dear old ex-Minister. Well, he’s quite useless to us now that he holds no position of power. We set the Imperius curse on him as well. An all to easy feat, might I add,” he sneered.
Lucius looked up and inspected his son carefully, as if reading into his emotions. His face tightened in skepticism, he glided over towards Malfoy and clasped his face between two cold, pale hands.
“What lies behind those eyes, Draco? What deceit have you committed against the Dark Lord?”
Malfoy suppressed his mingled feelings of fear and fury.
“None,” he answered. And the sound of determined resolution in his voice startled even him.
Lucius continued to eye him suspiciously. Turning his son’s face from side to side, his grip grew stronger. Malfoy refused to wince.
“Very well,” Lucius said in a soft whisper. “I trust you know better than to betray your master,” he added.
Malfoy’s innate arrogance and shrewdness for acting surfaced once more.
“Of course I do, father,” he spoke. “But- I still don’t understand… how did you come to escape from Azkaban?”
Lucius gave an impatient snort.
“Don’t be stupid,” he spat. “Death Eaters have broken out before, why couldn’t we again? The Dark Lord cares for his loyal followers. He did not leave us there long.”
A riotous silence rang in young Malfoy’s ears. He watched as his father sulked away, examining the Slytherin common room.
“This place was lined in authentic silver in my day,” he spoke in an undertone.
“Father?” Malfoy asked tentatively. Lucius whirled around. “I met Rookwood- in the forest. Did you know?”
“Yes,” he answered. “I just learned of that last night. You were escorting that Granger girl, on Dumbledore’s orders, were you not?”
“Yes, that’s right. Lestrange had injured her so badly Granger couldn’t go to Hogsmeade alone,” he puffed.
Malfoy thought it a good idea to offer an excuse for his contact with Hermione immediately, before his father had time to question it.
Lucius merely nodded, then returned to examining the room.
“Rookwood seemed convinced that you had been administered the Kiss. Did he not know?”
“No, he did not. Rookwood is loyal, yes, but not the brightest. We thought it better to have our plans kept within a tight circle. Only Crabbe, Goyle, Macnair, myself, and of course the Dark Lord knew of this,” he breathed.
Malfoy walked around to the sofa and sat in an attempt to act normally.
“I- I’m glad you’re alright, Father,” he lied.
Lucius turned to face him. He narrowed his eyes in concentration, but Malfoy quickly dropped his gaze to the floor, pretending to be embarrassed by his comment.
“As you should be,” Lucius responded. “Now I must go. I only wanted to calm your nerves. I imagine your mother will be hysterical when she sees me,” he added in a voice clearly brimming with disgust.
Malfoy stood and nodded.
“Keep away from Granger as much as possible. Not only is she filthy, but she’s conniving as well.”
Malfoy’s face contoured in rage, his mouth became dry and his voice hoarse. His eyes flashed dangerously as his father took a few steps closer.
“But do not be obvious. Dumbledore must see no sign that you are aware of any of this. Keep away from him as well. You only have another week until term begins. At such time, keep close to Crabbe and Goyle. I need not speak of the consequences if Dumbledore were to catch word of what I’ve told you,” he added.
Draco shook his head.
“Well- what are your plans now?” he asked his father.
“Now Dumbledore is unprepared. He knows not that the dementors are fighting on our side. We’re planning an attack- dementors and Death Eaters alike- on Hogsmeade and London within the next month. Our vantage point, evidently, being our element of surprise. Now, I must go,” he said.
Malfoy nodded and stepped aside from the fire.
“Heed my words, Draco. You won’t be hearing from me for a number of weeks. Don’t disappoint me,” he added menacingly.
And with a flash of green flames, Lucius flung himself into the fire and disappeared.
Malfoy tottered on the spot, feeling weak and bemused. With a loud thump, he allowed himself to slip dramatically against the wall and onto the hard, stone floor.
**********************************************
“So- so they were never given the Kiss?!” asked Flarine in tones on disbelief and horror.
Snape’s lip curled devilishly.
“Yes, I thought I had made that plain,” he drawled.
Hermione cast an anxious glance at Harry and Ron, who looked back with wide eyes.
“So- Professor…” Hermione cut in tentatively. Noticing the whole of the Order focusing their attention on her yet again, she sunk a little in her chair.
“Go on, dear, it’s alright- you’re entitled,” simpered Mrs. Weasley.
“Errr…” she began lamely. “I- I’m afraid I don’t understand… you were at a Death Eater meeting and- and Lucius Malfoy was there?” she asked.
“Yes, Ms. Granger, he was,” Snape snarled. “Along with Crabbe, Goyle, and Macnair; soul completely intact, I am sorry to report.”
“But- but how?!” Tonks chimed in.
“Our best guess,” McGonagall answered. “Is that the Daily Prophet is in some way connected to You-Know-Who’s plans. He’s obviously taken the time to ensure he keeps control over them. What with their puppet Fudge unable to direct them subliminally, they probably resorted to the Imperius curse,” she added.
The whole room was quiet. Hermione took notice, in her state of shock, that she could have dropped a pin and its sound would have reverberated along the high walls. An extended moment passed as she reflected on Malfoy’s reaction when she told him. She was not looking forward to it.
Finally, Lupin broke the silence.
“Someone had to of known the Kiss was never administered,” he said gravelly.
“Yes,” Dumbledore spoke. Every eye stared at him. “Someone did know; or rather, a number of creatures. The dementors of Azkaban are the only ones capable of realizing this information. Humans never frequent the prison, unless they are overseeing a routine check or else escorting a new inmate,” he said darkly.
“S- so the dementors…. They’re on his side?!” A plump yet attractive witch bellowed.
“We fear that they are, yes. It is the only logical explanation,” Dumbledore responded.
The room fell into a deafening quiet once more. Hermione was shaking madly. She thought of Malfoy, of his anger and frustration. She thought of how this news would kill his spirits further, of how little he had to look forward to anymore. Then- like a brick slapping her across the face--
“Wait!” she nearly shouted. “Lucius- the others- they just revealed themselves last night?” Hermione questioned.
“Yes,” Snape answered again, clearly seething under her presence.
“So- so now the rest of Voldemort’s ranks know it was all some sort of plan? They’ve- they’ve come out of hiding then?”
The room (with the usual exception of Dumbledore, Harry and Lupin) experienced a collective gasp and shuddering at his name. Several witches and wizards eyed Hermione fearfully.
“Yes, it seems they have,” Snape whispered.
“Well- well that means- that means- ” Hermione cut herself short. Horror and dread pulsed through her blood, feeding on her newfound panic.
He’s not hiding anymore, she thought frantically. Lucius could be after Draco right now! He could be in danger! If his dad shows up, he’ll surely know he’s been with me! He’ll- he’ll kill him!
And with that frightening thought, Hermione shot up from her chair and raced out of the room, ignoring Harry’s perplexed face and Ron’s summoning her name. Heart beating a tattoo in her chest, she ran as if being chased, too afraid and worried about Malfoy to think that if Lucius was there, she’d die as well.