A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviewing. I'll try to keep the updates steady, I'm quite busy this semester. And plus I forget, this isn't the only site that I write on. Thanks.
Chapter 4- Getting Informed
Friday passed uneventfully, unless you counted the nosy inquiries, concerned questions, and awed stares from Harry's fellow students (or in the case of the Slytherins, snickers and mock seizures in the middle of the corridors). Although the incessant questions tended to annoy Harry, he would definitely take this behavior over the shunning he had been subjected to in past years.
Harry stirred as rays of sunlight filtered through the crack in his bed curtains. He stretched, wincing slightly as his muscles announced their displeasure once again at being flailed around; Madam Pomfrey had told him to expect soreness for a couple of days. Silently he got up, dressed, and left Gryffindor Tower. He bypassed the Great Hall; hopefully he would be done with everything by lunch. He continued through the winding halls until he reached the familiar gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. After muttering the password (“Drooble's Best Blowing Gum”), he hopped on the revolving staircase and paused outside the door. Hearing nothing, he knocked.
"Enter."
Harry opened the door. Dumbledore was at his desk, scribbling on some parchment, the Pensieve on the desktop at his side.
"Hello, sir," Harry said quietly.
"Good morning, Harry. We have much to talk about," Dumbledore replied, rolling up the parchment. "Fawkes." The Phoenix glided over from his perch and settled on Dumbledore's desk. "Take this to Minister Bones," Dumbledore murmured, tying the scroll to the phoenix's leg.
Fawkes rose into the air a few feet and disappeared in burst of flames.
"So, Harry." Dumbledore faced him. "Shall we dive into last night's Order meeting?"
Harry stood in response. He walked over to the Pensieve, and at the Headmaster's nod, took a deep breath and shoved his head into the swirling, silvery vapors. He somersaulted through the pitch black until he landed on his feet with a resounding thud in the kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. The members of the Order of the Phoenix were crowded around the table, greeting and chatting with each other as the present Dumbledore landed beside Harry. After a moment the other Dumbledore, who was seated at the head of the table, cleared his throat and called for the meeting to begin.
"Bones wants to know if we can assist in helping contain the Dementors," Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep voice reverberated slightly in the large room.
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, they are becoming quite widespread. I'll arrange a meeting with the Minister to sort out the details."
Everyone seated around the table nodded. After a slight pause, Bill Weasley spoke up. "The goblins have decided not to join the Order."
At once, the table erupted.
"What?"
"Whatever for?"
"Still holding on to old grudges, eh?"
"Should've known-"
"Wait a minute.” It was Remus Lupin, looking as haggard as ever, who spoke up. He looked directly at Bill as the others fell silent. "You said 'join the Order.' We know they won't align themselves with the Ministry, even with Fudge gone, but I thought they had declared themselves against Voldemort."
Everyone flinched, with the exception of Dumbledore. Lupin ignored them and continued. "Are they going to fight him by themselves?"
Bill nodded. "Yes. They don't want to be associated with any wizards. Ragnok said they're prepared to go on both the defense and offense."
Dumbledore nodded. "Well, it is not unexpected."
"So, we know that the goblins want to be alone; the Dementors are definitely against us; the Centaurs refuse to have any part in this; the Vampires are iffy; and the house-elves are too terrified out of their wits to do anything." Charlie Weasley ticked the list of magical creatures off on his fingers. Must be in from Romania, Harry thought. "So what about the giants? Anything new there?"
On either side of Charlie sat two people Harry didn't recognize right away. Both were clearly Romanian, with dark hair and defined features. The one on Charlie's right Harry wasn’t familiar at all - Charlie must work with him, he thought as he took in the huge burn scar that covered most of his left arm - but as the other man turned his face towards the light, Harry gaped in shock. It was Krum! How in the world does Charlie know him? Or did Dumbledore talk to him? Harry opened to ask, but immediately snapped it shut when the Dumbledore seated at the table began to reply. "No, the majority are still in cahoots with the Death Eaters, and I have not been contacted by any who disagree. What about Madam Maxime and yourself, Hagrid?"
"Nope, Professor." Hagrid set his bucket-size mug down with a clunk. "We haven't heard nothin'."
In the silence that followed Hagrid's statement, a door closed quietly somewhere in the house.
"Snape's here," Mad-eye Moody grunted, his eye following something beyond the door to the kitchen.
With a twist of his wand, Dumbledore removed the wards on the kitchen and opened the door. Snape entered a moment later. He sat down in an empty chair across from Molly Weasley and accepted the goblet she gave him. He eyed the contents with a critical eye that only a Potions master could possess; apparently finding whatever it was safe, he swigged it down vigorously.
Finally he set down the cup. "I just returned from a rendezvous with the Dark Lord."
"And?" Dumbledore prompted, leaning forward.
"He inquired after Potter's well-being. I told the him that he had been ill, but I didn't tell him how bad it was. Unfortunately, he wants to try again." Everyone gasped. "He thinks that you -" he nodded to Dumbledore- "will have told Potter the Prophecy by now, and is determined to find it."
Everyone looked at Dumbledore, who was rubbing his eyes.
He looked up. "Yes, Harry does know the Prophecy. I told him last June, but Voldemort must not know this."
"Do you know if he told Ron and Hermione?" Arthur Weasley asked, Mrs. Weasley clutching his arm tightly, looking as though she thought they would surely be better off without this Prophecy business at all. You have no idea how right you are, Harry thought darkly.
"I do not know," Dumbledore replied. "He has the right to tell anyone he feels he can trust when he's ready."
"But isn't that the object that we were guarding all last year? Besides Potter himself? Shouldn't we know what it is? That's what got Podmore put under the Imperius, Arthur hurt, and Sirius Black dead!" Hestia Jones objected as Harry flinched sharply. "Don't we have the right to know?"
Harry turned on Dumbledore furiously. "Did you tell them?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Harry, the only people who know besides me and you are the others that you have entrusted with this information."
Relieved, Harry turned his attention back to the table before him. Emmeline Vance was arguing his case angrily.
"...that boy can tell whomever he wishes, I don't even know the Prophecy, and spent the summer looking through his head! I never saw it, he's got it blocked properly, and rightfully so!" she huffed.
Harry smiled. He and Emmeline had gotten to know each other well during the Occlumency lessons, and she had written him a few short letters since the school year began. They would never have a grandmother-grandson type of relationship - Harry wouldn't allow himself to - but it was nice to get letters from someone who cared outside of Hogwarts.
The Dumbledore at the table was nodding his head in agreement. "Very well said, Ms. Vance. I think that settles the matter. You must trust me on this." Hestia Jones didn't look like she thought everything was settled, but she didn't say anything else.
"On the subject of our young Mr. Potter, I would also like to address his training. We - that is, Mr. Potter and I - have decided to - er... 'cut and paste' as the Muggles say (Mr. Weasley chuckled quietly), on his schedule. I have already talked with Severus about continuing Advanced Occlumency lessons with Mr. Potter, as well as Basic Legilimency, and I need a few willing volunteers experienced in Defense Against the Dark Arts - Harry is leagues ahead of his class. Any takers?"
Harry looked at Dumbledore with both excitement and a bit of trepidation. It was finally happening. Every fiber in his being wanted to destroy the monster that had torn everyone's lives apart, but he knew he had to have the skills and confidence. He turned back to the conversation at the table.
Tonks and Shacklebolt were agreeing to come when they had spare time. "What about you, Remus?"
Lupin nodded. "Yes, I imagine some of the werewolves are tired of me harping on them about how Voldemort won't really satisfy their needs," (the majority of the table jumped) "so I'll just go back and forth for weeks at a time."
Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you, all of you. In addition to you three, my brother Aberforth Dumbledore has agreed to assist as well, and I'm fairly certain the Defense professor, Thomas Heatherwick, will be of some assistance as well."
Harry snorted quietly. Old Heatherwick was about two hundred years old, even more paranoid than Moody, and reminded everyone vividly of Binns. But he does know his hexes, Harry mused. Too bad Harry had covered most of them in the DA the year before.
"Wait a minute. We all know Harry is special, but what does all of this extra training have to do with the Prophecy?" It was Professor McGonagall. She was glaring sternly at Dumbledore, but she had a slightly worried look on her face as well. What's she worried about? Harry wondered.
"That's for you to figure out, and if you do so, Harry and I would appreciate it if you kept it to yourself," Dumbledore replied evasively. “If that is all, this meeting is adjourned."
After a moment everyone rose and began to scatter, talking amongst themselves. Mrs. Weasley headed to the stove, followed by her husband and oldest sons, while the rest filtered out the door.
"Let's go, Harry." Dumbledore grasped Harry's upper arm and they reappeared in his office.
They sat down in their respective seats. "Questions, Harry?"
"Yeah. Has the Order always been this curious about the Prophecy?" Harry asked.
"Oh yes," Dumbledore replied, eyes twinkling. "Though I must admit that they haven't been nearly this adamant and forceful in the past. Also, Harry, I meant everything I said about your rights."
Harry nodded, grateful. "And why were Krum and that other bloke there with Charlie? How did Krum get involved with the Order? Who was that other man?"
"I remained in some limited contact with Viktor Krum after the Triwizard Tournament, and as he began to see the growing unrest, I put him in contact with Charlie Weasley. Between us two and Miss Granger, we managed to convince him of Voldemort's return."
"Now, for the answer to your last question. Mikhail Romanov works in the dragon compound with the aforementioned Mr. Weasley, and will be quite an asset to the Order with his extensive knowledge and list of contacts across continental Europe. His contacts will keep us informed of Death Eater activity that Professor Snape is not privy to."
Harry nodded, lost in thought. "What will the Order do to help the Ministry with the Dementors?"
"I imagine that we will help respond to attacks, and maybe even help guard Azkaban if needed. Anything else?"
"Yes," Harry replied. "What do we do about Voldemort attempting to get in my head again?"
Dumbledore sighed, his face weary once again. "All we can do is watch you. The staff will be informed to keep an eye on you, and to send for myself and Madam Pomfrey if Voldemort does attack again."
Harry nodded in resignation. Would Voldemort ever stop screwing up his life?
"Now on to your schedule, if you have no more questions." Harry nodded silently.
"Good. I have talked to both Hagrid and Professor Heatherwick, and they have agreed to allow you out of their classes. During both of those class periods you will come either here or to a previously disclosed location, and either Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, myself, or my brother Aberforth will instruct you, depending on who can spare the time, and Professors Snape and Heatherwick will schedule times with you in the evenings. You will have quite the busy schedule."
Harry nodded. He would miss the free time, and he hated so many people giving up time for him, but he knew he desperately needed anything he could get.
"Very well then, Harry, I'm afraid we must end our meeting. I have a trial to attend in the Wizengamot, and I believe you have an appointment of your own with Professor Snape." His eyes twinkled again.
Harry stood up. "Thanks, Professor. See you later."
"Goodbye, Harry," the Headmaster replied warmly as Harry left.
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