Order of the Phoenix
Reunions and Returns
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Four
~ Reunions and Returns ~
It was the last night of August, two days after the Weasleys had met up with Harry and Hermione in Diagon Alley and returned with them to the Burrow. Tomorrow was the first of September, when they
would be catching the Hogwarts Express on their way back to school for another year.
This last dinner had, as was tradition, been something of a sumptuous feast. For some reason Molly Weasley seemed to forget the amounts of food laden before Hogwarts students in the Great Hall every day at mealtimes.
It had been two strangely satisfying days, Ginny decided, since Harry had come to the Burrow. After dinner that first night the family had gathered in the living room to talk and read, and in Harry and Ron's regard, play the long-awaited game of wizard chess. Within an hour all talk and attempts to read had ceased and everyone was crowded silently around the two players focused intently on their game and nothing else. After three and a half solid hours, at nearly midnight, something had happened that Ginny could not remember having ever seen.
Ron had lost.
It had been a rough, vicious, game, where both players had been reduced to only a handful of pieces each, ending when it did only because Harry retained had his otherworldly calm, whilst Ron had gone to new levels of frustration as the hours wore away.
After staring at the board in shock for several minutes Ron had challenged Harry to a rematch, which Harry had accepted the following evening. Again the game had lasted several hours, also ending in a close knit battle of only a few remaining pieces, this time in Ron's favour, but barely.
Strangely enough, Ron hadn't been angry about Harry's dramatic improvement.
He'd been delighted.
"Finally," he had grinned after winning their second match, "a worthy opponent."
Harry had snorted. "Took me long enough."
Now, on the eve of their return to Hogwarts, Ginny had wandered outside, trailing after Harry. Both he and Ron had agreed to no match tonight, as they wanted to be well rested for the lengthy journey back to school. After dinner Ginny had spotted Harry quietly exiting through the back door into the garden. Since Ron was busy chatting happily with Hermione, leaving Ginny feeling a little left out, she had followed after him.
Who knows? she wondered wryly, maybe I'll be able to talk to him without blushing.
She quickly spotted Harry, in the far corner of the back garden, sitting upon the small grassy knoll, gazing up at the stars. Quietly, so as not to disturb him, she made her way there, making sure she was obvious in her approach. After the last year it would probably not be a good idea to try sneaking up on him.
Silently Ginny sat herself down beside him, wondering if he had even noticed her when he gave no reaction to her arrival. Suppressing a sigh she sadly mused that Harry hardly ever seemed to notice her, except for the letters over this summer. And his enthusiastic greeting the other day in Diagon Alley.
"Do you believe in true evil?" Harry suddenly asked, surprising her out of her thoughts.
Thinking it over, Ginny realized that she didn't really need to think about it. She already had her answer. She had had her answer for three, nearly four years, now.
"Yes," she told him, "I've met him. And so have you."
Harry looked down from the sky and glanced over at her. "In my first year," he started slowly, "Voldemort told me that there is no such thing as good or evil. That there is only power, and those too weak to seek it. Or use it."
Ginny frowned. "What are you worrying about, Harry?"
He sighed and looked back up at the stars. "I've... got power, Gin," he told her, not seeming to notice her delighted reaction at his calling her 'Gin'.
"Power?"
"Lots of it," he nodded. "But I don't know if I can use it. Or if I should."
He looked over at her again and Ginny could see that he was fighting with himself over something. "I'm tired of people getting hurt because of me," he explained after a moment, his eyes cast down to the soft grass.
"My parents... Cedric... Sirius..."
"Harry," she started, gently taking his hands in hers, "what happened to your family and Cedric wasn't your fault. And you don't have to worry about Sirius Black."
Strangely enough Harry chuckled. "I'm always worrying about him."
"You shouldn't," she told him. "He couldn't get you two years ago, after he escaped, and nobody saw hide nor hair of him last year. Now that You-Kno-- Voldemort is back, he's going to be too busy kissing his master's feet to be bothered with you."
Harry looked at her with a puzzled expression that quickly changed into one of amusement as he shook his head and chuckled once again. "I'm not worried about Sirius trying to kill me, Gin," he said, "I'm more worried about him getting himself killed, or worse, caught again."
Now it was Ginny that looked puzzled. "Excuse me?"
"Don't worry, Gin," he said, squeezing her hands. "My godfather won't hurt me."
"Godfather?" Her eyes grew wide as she gaped at him in shock. "Sirius Black is your godfather?"
Harry nodded sadly. "Yeah. He and my dad, and Professor Lupin - remember him? - were best friends when they were at Hogwarts. Along with another... man." His lips curled in distaste, something Ginny had only ever seen from Harry with regards Draco Malfoy. "Peter Pettigrew. The four were practically inseparable. Called themselves the Marauders."
"Pettigrew?" Ginny repeated. "But, wasn't he the one Black killed? Along with those Muggles?"
"So everyone thinks," grimaced Harry. "Unfortunately the bastard's still alive."
Ginny shook her head in confusion. Harry had just said Pettigrew was one of his father's best friends, yet here he was cursing that he wasn't dead. Very strange, especially when Pettigrew was supposedly fourteen years dead and buried.
"I don't understand."
Harry looked up at her and Ginny could see him thinking, weighing his options, deciding if he could trust her enough to tell her something. Something very secret and very important.
Please, Harry, she begged, you can trust me, I know you can.
"Have you ever trusted someone, Gin?" he finally asked. "Completely, utterly, with your life?"
Ginny met his gaze and nodded. She wondered if he would ever know that he had just described how she felt about him. With a sigh Harry averted his gaze and began considering the night sky.
"My dad also did. He had three friends that he felt he could trust, not only with his life, but with his wife's and mine."
Another sigh.
"He was wrong."
"Black?" Ginny asked, gently prodding him to continue.
Harry shook his head and turned to look at her again. "Imagine the situation, Gin. Voldemort is coming after you and your son. There doesn't seem to be any hope of stopping him, so your only chance of survival is to run and hide. You have to choose someone you trust absolutely to guard and keep the secret of your location..."
Ginny waited patiently as he paused, considering what to say next. What is it you know, Harry? What do you know that I, and the rest of us, don't?
"Your one friend is sound minded," he continued after a while. "He's clever, loyal, dependable and would certainly be an almost perfect choice. Only one problem... he's a werewolf. You know about this, since your first year of school actually, and you still trust him, but... Voldemort has been recruiting werewolves and vampires and other creatures of the night. Despite everything, despite what you know about his character... there's the smallest doubt in your mind."
It wasn't difficult to put two and two together. "Professor Lupin," Ginny concluded.
"Yes," Harry nodded his confirmation before starting up again. "Then there's your other friend. He's quiet, unassuming, shy, bashful, not really that good at magic, practically a squib, and absolutely hopeless when it comes to fighting. And besides that, if it weren't for the fact the Sorting Hat had put him in Gryffindor, you would think he was really a coward."
"Pettigrew?" she asked, wondering where this was leading.
Again Harry nodded. "And then there's your closest friend. Out of the three, he's the one you trust more than anything or anyone, even Dumbledore. He's trustworthy and loyal to the death, a bit of a joker and a ladies' man, but still a brilliant student, even if he doesn't really study. Everyone knows he's your friend, best man at your wedding, your son's godfather. A man everyone knows you trust with your life. And your son's."
In other words, Sirius Black.
He looked at her sharply and asked, "Which one?"
"Excuse me?" Ginny was really confused now, unsure of what he was asking of her.
"Which one would you choose to guard your secret?"
"Oh, well..." She shrugged helplessly. "Black, I guess. Out of the three..."
Harry nodded. "Exactly. That's who I would choose. That's who anyone in the same position would choose. That's who everyone thought my parents would choose."
He paused and smiled sadly. "That's exactly who they did not choose."
What?
"What?"
Again Harry looked at her; it was a considering look, an appraising look.
"You can trust me, Harry," Ginny whispered, dropping her gaze to her hands in her lap.
"I know, Gin," he replied, gently cupping her jaw and raising her face back up to look into his own startling green eyes.
"It's a long and complicated story, Gin. And I want you to hear it."
***
It had been a long night, Harry mused, but strangely satisfying. After explaining the convoluted circumstances surrounding Sirius' imprisonment, he and Ginny had talked about some of the other 'little adventures' Harry and his two comrades had shared. It had been very late in the night, almost midnight, before the two youngsters had retired back into the Burrow.
All-in-all, a satisfying night, concluded Harry as he, along with the Weasleys and Hermione made there way through King's Cross Station.
*Don't you mean a frustrating night?* asked a familiar voice.
Harry frowned mentally, What do you mean?
*She's a hottie.*
Harry glanced at Ginny, pushing her cart alongside Ron, just ahead of Harry and Hermione.
*Damn, look at that arse!*
Hey!
*Well, look at it.*
I am, though I'm not sure you should be. Harry had to admit, Ginny had somehow turned into a very beautiful girl and her posterior was quite eye catching.
*What d'you mean by that?*
You're older than her. Much older.
*Happened all the time in my day.*
You've been dead since before they built the pyramids.
*A small inconvenience*
You're married, Osiris, sighed Harry in exasperation.
The voice chuckled, *So? What's wrong with a little window shopping?*
Harry smirked. You realize what Isis will do to you if she finds you checking out Ginny's arse? Besides, despite however nice the view may be, she's my friend. I like her.
*I s'pose you're right, Harry. I'm just amazed you didn't need a cold shower last night.*
You're not the only one, he sighed, unaware that his eyes were still tracking Ginny's swaying rear, and that he had also been noticed by Hermione, who was trying not to grin.
A minute or so later the group had passed through the barrier between platforms nine and ten and were standing before the Hogwarts Express. Harry adjusted his father's, now his, trenchrobe and smiled at the thrill of knowing he would soon be back at Hogwarts.
It didn't take long for Harry to start drawing attention to himself, even when he wasn't trying, as the group made their way towards what was now their customary carriage. As they passed other students and acquaintances, almost all of them looked at Harry with a blank curiosity that soon changed to amazed disbelief. Some of the double takes were so exaggerated they led to a series of rather amusing prat falls which left the twins in stitches, especially when Neville tripped over his trunk, collided with his stern grandmother and toppled both of them to the floor in a tangle of limbs and shouts.
*Is he usually like that?*
I'm afraid so.
But most uncomfortable for Harry were the decidedly salacious gazes he found himself receiving from the female portion of those they met. It reminded him a great deal of how the girls had fallen about Viktor Krum and... Cedric--he winced at the name--during the tournament the previous year and immediately preceding the Yule Ball. If this was how it always felt, he wondered, then he was glad they'd ignored him back then.
*And you wish they'd continue ignoring you?*
Damn straight.
He was, however, pleased to note that both Ginny and Hermione were scowling at the other girls' reactions and, in some cases, shooting death glares that would land both of them in Azkaban, should looks ever be able to kill. He found this rather amusing in Hermione's case, but touching in how she was so protective of her friend. When it came to Ginny, though, he was both delighted and also distressed by her reaction. He didn't want her worrying about someone stealing him away...
Steal me? When did this happen?
They had reached their carriage and were shoving their trunks inside when they were interrupted by a familiar drawl. "Well, well. If it isn't the famous Scarhead, the Mudblood and the beggar Weasel family."
*Who is that?*
*That should be obvious, he's an arsehole.*
*Fine. Then what's the asshole's name?*
"Malfoy," stated Harry, replying to both the voices in his mind and the stuck up Slytherin that had just materialized in their way. He turned slowly around, giving the now much smaller boy a chance to get a good look at the changes he had undertaken over the last month. He almost smiled with smug satisfaction as he saw Malfoy's eyes widen in surprise and bewilderment for a moment before flickering behind their usual cold mask of indifference.
*Hit the snotty bugger!* urged one voice.
Pleasant idea, Heracles, but inappropriate.
"I must say, I'm surprised," Harry stated, noticing that Hermione was holding back Ron, who was glowering dangerously, and Ginny was keeping an eye on the twins, both of whom were scowling in a similar fashion. "I didn't think you'd have the guts, Malfoy, to show your ferret face without your lumbering bodyguards to protect you."
Malfoy's lips curled into a sneer and he spoke. "Get--" as the word formed in his mouth, Harry started up a conversation with his 'ghosts'.
Suggestions? he asked his companions.
*A few,* came an instant reply.
"--him!" finished Malfoy, his superior bearing now insufferably smug, but Harry was already in motion before the short command was finished.
He had observed Malfoy's thugs, er, companions, Crabbe and Goyle coming up behind him from their reflections in the train carriage windows. Fortunately for Harry the pair's primary strength was also the cause of their primary weakness. The lumbering Slytherins were the largest and strongest fifth years at Hogwarts, but their sheer size and bulk hindered their movements, reducing their speed and reflexes in equal proportion.
Harry had begun to counter-attack before they had even started to move against him.
With help from the multitude of voices in his head, not to mention his own considerable mental faculties, Harry had devised over a dozen different means of dealing with the pair of Slytherins sneaking behind him.
As it turned out, he only needed the first one.
Neither of the two had time to move against him, nor did any of his friends have time to shout out a warning. Harry stepped to one side and then quickly V-stepped, reaching out and placing a hand on Goyle's chest and giving a small push. As he pushed the bulky Slytherin he cast a quick wandless Banishing Charm, resulting in the other boy crashing over as though hit head on by a speeding freight train. Goyle toppled into Crabbe beside him and the pair fell to the floor of the platform with a thunderous crash that Harry could feel though his sneakers.
*Nicely done,* complimented one of the many voices.
Thanks, he replied, this is almost too easy.
Crabbe shoved Goyle off of him and stumbled to his feet, face red and twisted with anger.
"You idiots! Get him!" roared Malfoy, glaring at his companions and Harry.
"Please, Malfoy, don't make me laugh," Harry drawled, sounding utterly bored with the situation. "These two oafs of yours won't be able to lay a finger on me. I can see their movements as they form, predict their intended actions and respond accordingly, before they even begin to fight."
Crabbe started to take a step forward, hands clenching in anticipation of closing around Harry's neck. His foot had only just lifted off the ground when he felt the tip of Harry's wand pressing gently against his forehead, right between his eyes. Neither he, nor any of those watching, had seen Harry move; he had drawn his wand that fast.
"If you so much as twitch the wrong way," stated Harry, his voice colder than ice, "you will find yourself waking up in the Hospital Wing."
Still on the floor, behind Crabbe, Goyle started quietly shifting about, but received a warning from Harry before he had moved an inch, even though Harry's eyes never once strayed from watching Crabbe. "Breathe too hard, Goyle, and you'll be joining him."
Still keeping his eyes trained on the frozen Crabbe, Harry backed up a couple of steps, his wand not wavering a millimetre.
"Now, back off. Behind Malfoy, both of you," he ordered.
"I must say, I'm surprised, Potter," said Malfoy, throwing Harry's earlier words in his face. "Even if you have finally outgrown the lost-baby-boy look, you shouldn't be harassing other students, particularly Slytherins, in front of a Prefect." His hand reached into a pocket and withdrew a shining silver badge.
Before Harry or the Weasley's could respond, Hermione stepped forward, beside Harry. "Then it's a good thing that Gryffindor Prefects have the right to supersede when it comes to students from their own house." Her badge was pinned to her shirt and sparkled in the sunlight.
"Well, it seems we have an impasse," observed Malfoy with a sneer. "Better be careful, Potter. The Mudblood won't be able to stay with you all the time. Sooner or later you won't have her Prefect badge to hide behind."
Harry placed a calming hand on Hermione's shoulder, gently restraining her as he smirked towards Malfoy. "Guess that means I'll have to hide behind my own then," he said.
After a moment the words sank in and everyone gaped at him, chorusing, "What?"
Harry pulled aside the lapel of his trenchrobe, revealing his gleaming Prefect badge pinned securely to the inside right pocket. He smiled at Malfoy, who had gone so red in the face he looked like a dumbstruck tomato.
"Just because I don't flaunt it," he purred, "doesn't mean I don't have it."
*Subtle, Harry, subtle.*
Thanks, I certainly didn't learn it from you.
*Hey!*
Malfoy continued to gape for nearly a full minute, his mouth moving but not producing any sound. He looked very much like a landed carp that had yet to realize it was caught. Finally he drew himself up, trying to look disdainful but failing, and hurried inside the train, followed by a subdued and worried looking Crabbe and Goyle.
Harry burst into laughter, especially when he noticed his friends were reacting in much the same manner. He looked at them mischievously, "Guess I forgot to mention this as well, huh?"
***
After the incident at the platform the train ride to Hogwarts had been almost painfully dull. Ron could not remember a time when more people had stopped by their compartment, all of them there to see the 'new and improved' Harry, who had, single-handedly, beat Crabbe and Goyle into bloody pulps and with scathing wit insulted Malfoy's honour.
I never knew things could blow so out of proportion, he thought as he, his friends and family sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, having just finished watching the yearly Sorting.
After a few initial statements, capped by Dumbledore's introduction of Professor Lupin's return as the school's Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor - which earned loud cheers of approval from the students, except, of course, the Slytherins - the feast began.
The students had ravenously devoured the heaps of food which sprung up before them, as it always did. Ron had been surprised at the volume Harry alone had consumed; almost equal to what Ron himself ate on a hungry day. Now, Dumbledore had called for silence and was giving them the final few notices before they would be leaving for their dormitory in Gryffindor Tower.
After the customary warnings against straying into the Forbidden Forest and listing whatever new items Filch decided should now be banned from use in the corridors, he said something that caused a stir amongst the older students.
"I am also pleased to announce that, after considering its great success last year, it has been decided that Hogwarts shall once again be hosting a Yule Ball this Christmas Eve."
A good number of boys groaned, sinking their heads into their hands. Not another one, they were all thinking. Asking a girl to go to the ball with them had been a tortuous experience. Naturally all the ladies in question were delighted, even Hermione and especially Ginny for some reason.
"As with last year," Dumbledore explained, "the ball is only open to fourth-years and above. Younger students are welcome to attend if invited."
Well, Ron thought with a smirk, At least I already know who I'm going with. He shot what he hoped was a surreptitious glance at Hermione, sitting across from him. Unfortunately she happened to be staring right at him at just that moment, causing both of them to blush and look away.
At the same time he noticed Harry and Ginny exchanging a similar look, only neither of them reacted in quite the way he had come to expect. His sister brought a hand to her smiling lips and tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a giggle while Harry merely arched an eyebrow and... smirked?
Sweet Merlin, they're flirting!
"Finally," Dumbledore continued, "it is with great pleasure that I can announce a new, extra-curricular subject now being offered here at Hogwarts."
Everybody exchanged puzzled glances; nothing had been said about this in their letters or any of their other notifications. For that matter, Ron noticed, even the other professors seemed surprised by this announcement.
Didn't they know? he thought, Wonder why?
"Practical Fighting Techniques, as the subject has been named," explained Dumbledore, "can only be taken by fourth-year students and above. It is being held in a newly constructed auditorium at the end of the third floor corridor. Classes will take place after dinner each week day, from seven until nine o'clock."
"The third floor! That's where they hid the Philosopher's stone!" whispered Hermione excitedly.
"Fighting?" muttered Seamus, "isn't that what Defence Against the Dark Arts is?"
Ron shrugged. "Sounds more hands-on to me. Kind of like a duelling club."
Merlin help us if that's the case.
The whispers and murmurs filling the Great Hall subsided as Dumbledore held up a hand and then continued to speak. "It is, as I said, an elective subject, however all students are required to attend the first lesson. I am given to understand, by the instructor, that this will only be a demonstration, whereupon students will be able to consider further attendance."
"Who's teaching it?" called out Fred.
Knowing our luck, probably Snape, thought Ron.
Dumbledore smiled and shook his head. "That you shall only find out tomorrow, Mr. Weasley. Now, however, I think that it is time for bed. Prefects, kindly lead your houses to their dormitories. Good night."
As the students began to rise up and Hermione starting yelling for the first years to follow her and Harry to the common room, Ron looked at his friend. "So... Practical Fighting Techniques," he said. "What do think it will be like?"
Harry smiled mysteriously. "It'll certainly be interesting."
TBC...