Order of the Phoenix
Sighting the Enemy
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Eight
~ Sighting the Enemy ~
Absolute silence greeted Harry as he entered the Great Hall, the morning after his Practical Fighting Techniques class. As far as he was aware, he could think of three reasons for this, all of which
he could understand. First there was the fact that Harry was Hogwarts' Practical Fighting Techniques instructor, who had single-handedly fought and beaten sixteen opponents as a demonstration.
Naturally the school was abuzz about his first lesson and everyone eager to see if he would be doing something crazy or maniacal while they watched.
*The day is still young...*
Second was the fact that Harry had entered the Great Hall in a manner so unlike how he had in the past, everyone stood up to take notice. He was striding along at a very brisk clip, his black robes billowing about him almost as if they were alive. His posture was upright, tall, straight and proud, combined with a sureness of movement that leant him an air of determination, purpose and confidence that one seldom found in any but the most seasoned wizards.
*Image is everything.*
Thirdly, something that truly defied belief, Harry had his nose buried in the pages of a book.
A very big book.
It was most definitely the largest book anybody had ever seen, including the teachers. In fact, the tome was so massive, Harry had cast a charm on it, allowing him to walk briskly along while the book itself floated just ahead of him. This was a good arrangement, since it seemed unlikely that anybody, even Harry with his newly developed physique, could lift the book without pulling most, if not all, of their muscles. As books went, it was the great-great grandfather of books. At first glance it was perhaps four feet tall, half that wide and easily a foot and a half thick when closed.
In other words, it was a very big book.
"Bugger me," breathed Angelina Johnson in amazement as Harry silently, and seemingly oblivious, made his way towards the Gryffindor table.
"Not now, luv," replied Fred, sitting opposite her, eyes firmly on the approaching Harry.
George, sitting beside his twin, added teasingly, "Maybe after lunch."
Harry, who despite appearances was completely aware of everything going on in the hall, didn't bother lifting his head, but commented as he strode past, "Just make sure you don't tire yourselves out. I'm going to be calling students down for evaluation tonight."
Ignoring their horrified expressions, either from the thought of Harry "evaluating" them during Practical Fighting Techniques that night, or the idea that Harry had just made a slightly… lewd insinuation that they had not come to expect from him, Harry continued on his way down the length of the table. Ron, with Ginny beside him, was sitting opposite Hermione, the couple apparently so engrossed in one of their ritual arguments that they remained ignorant of his entrance.
"Honestly, Ron," he heard Hermione complain as he approached. "Your handwriting is so bad I sometimes think you should consider becoming a doctor."
"What does that mean?" protested Ron, looking unsure whether to take the comment as an insult or a compliment.
Hermione gestured at the sheet of parchment she was looking over. "This essay of yours is a complete mess. How can you expect Professor Binns to be able to read, no, decipher it?"
Ron rolled his eyes and retorted, "Like anybody's actually interested in some long dead dark wizard called Veto the Corinthian, Mione."
"Vigo the Carpathian," corrected Hermione, "Born 1405. Died 1610."
"Two hundred and five years old, he hung in there, didn't he?" observed Ginny, looking impressed.
Hermione shook her head and delivered a short litany of gore. "He didn't die of old age, either. He was poisoned, stabbed, shot, hung, stretched, disembowelled, drawn and quartered."
Ron stared at her with wide eyes and his mouth gaping like a carp. Harry smirked as he sat down beside Hermione, the massive tome hovering beside them for a moment before disappearing as he reached for a piece of toast.
"Ouch," he summed up dryly, enjoying the sudden dumbstruck expression Hermione wore after having caught a glimpse of the huge book he had been reading before he had made it vanish. "Just some light reading," he whispered to her in a quiet aside.
"'Ouch'?" asked Ron, looking over at him. "'Ouch'? Is that all you can say?"
"At least they didn't castrate him," Harry answered, grinning wickedly at his friend's wince of sympathetic pain. He looked to Ginny, at Ron's side, and saw that she, too, was grinning wickedly at her brother's imagined discomfort. She continued tucking into her bacon and eggs, consuming the food almost as fast as her brothers were prone to doing.
Doing what I'm about to do - in public - has to be the dumbest idea I have ever had.
*That's saying something.*
"Ginny?" he asked, calling her attention.
"Yes, Harry?" she replied with a smile.
Harry licked his lips. After last night, this should be easy. In theory it was, but now that he was on the verge of the practical application, he discovered otherwise. "Do you remember what we discussed over the summer? In our letters?"
Ginny nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, but which part?"
He smiled. "The bit about you looking better in cream and silver than in green and lilac."
"Oh, that bit." Ginny smiled shyly and blushed a warm red.
*You're so smooth.*
"We were wondering if there'd be another ball," Harry confirmed, "and I believe you asked me a question."
Ginny looked up at him in surprise and, it looked like... hope? He prayed that it was. That made things a lot less nerve wracking for Harry if she did want to--
You're getting ahead of yourself, Potter, he berated. You've got to ask her first.
*So ask already!*
"Well," he continued, amazed at how steady his voice sounded considering how queasy his stomach was feeling, "I've got an answer if you'd like to hear it."
He could see Ron and Hermione watching with interest as Ginny swallowed nervously and placed her knife and fork down. She licked her lips and looked up at him, barely breathing as she gave him a miniscule nod.
"Who are you going to take?" she asked in a whisper, her chocolate eyes wide and hopeful.
Just as Harry opened his mouth to tell her, an ear-splitting shriek, followed by many other yells and shouts of surprise and horror, sounded from near the main entrance into the hall. Students were jumping up onto their tables, drawing and fumbling with their wands and making one god-awful racket that quickly had the entire room's attention.
*Now zis eez unexpected,* noted a soft, French accented, alto.
Only because nobody has been killed yet, Joan.
Harry was on his feet in an instant, watching with wary, yet keen, interest as a massive snake glided down the middle of the hall, eliciting more screams and other reactions from the students as it made its way towards where Harry was standing. Looking closely as the serpent drew nearer; Harry recognised its markings and stepped before it, drawing his wand.
"Nagini," he greeted, holding his ground as the snake slithered to a rest immediately in front of him and wound itself into a coil.
~Harry Potter,~ hissed the snake, ~I come bearing a messssage from my massster.~
Harry cocked an eyebrow at Nagini and swished his wand between himself and the coiled snake, casting a special translation spell that would allow everyone in the Great Hall to hear what was being said and understand it. Even if it was Parseltongue.
~Really?~ he replied making sure to meet and match Nagini's stare. ~And what does your esteemed master, Lord Voldemort, have to say for himself, hmm?~
Nagini hissed and lifted her head level with Harry's, unblinking reptilian eyes locked on his unblinking emerald ones. Harry refused to back down for any man or beast. Especially if they associated with the Dark Lord.
~Massster sssaysss that the time of his preparation isss over,~ reported the snake, ~Sssoon the Dark Mark ssshall be known acrossss the land onccce more.~
"No shit," chirped Harry, ~And his point is?~
Nagini hissed angrily, ~Do not insssult the massster!~
~Deliver the rest of your message, snake,~ Harry ordered, dismissing the threat, ~Before I decide to turn you into a new pair of boots and matching luggage.~
~My massster will make you sssuffer the pain of a thousssand deathsss before he killsss you. You and all who follow your banner ssshall become hisss ssslavesss. Hisss dark reign isss begining and he ssshall rule in eternal darknessss for all time.~
~He does like to rehash everything, doesn't he?~ observed Harry dryly, ~Tell me something I did not already know.~
The snake quivered angrily. ~Lord Voldemort isss coming for you, Harry Potter, jussst asss he came for your parentsss in yearsss passst. What wasss will be, what isss will be no more. Thisss isss your only warning. Thisss isss my messssage.~
Harry shook his head in disgust. ~Then you're wasting my time, Nagini. Go back to your master. Inform him that a phoenix will always be able to triumph over a basilisk, regardless of how long and hard the battle may become.~
~Ssso be it,~ hissed Nagini, dropping her head down and uncoiling her great length, before slowly winding her way out of the hall. ~The massster ssshall know your wordsss, Harry Potter.~
"He'll know more than that when I'm finished with him," muttered Harry, watching Voldemort's messenger leave.
*Of zat we can be sure, 'Arry,* confirmed Joan.
Pandemonium had begun to erupt throughout the hall, reminding Harry acutely of his first year, when Professor Quirrel had come running in, announcing at the top of his lungs an intrusion into the castle by a large mountain troll. Of course, this had been five years ago, and Harry had since become inured to such goings-on.
Unfortunately his fellow students had not taken Nagini's arrival, proclamations and departure with quite the same degree of calm level-headedness that seemed enshrouded about Harry.
*Is it just me, or are they panicking?*
It's just you, Iolaus, he sighed, turning away from where Nagini had exited and facing the staff table, where Dumbledore was rising to his feet. It had never failed to amaze Harry how the old wizard could be such a pillar of stability and calm amidst the chaos of the uproar sweeping about the Great Hall.
"Silence!" rumbled Dumbledore, his deep voice quickly causing the room to still. Heads turned towards where he was standing and some students, particularly the shorter ones, climbed up onto the benches to get a clear view.
"There is no need for such pandemonium," the headmaster declared sternly, his blue eyes gleaming over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "Classes will continue normally today, and I expect you all to proceed to them in a calm and dignified manner. Prefects will please escort all the first year students to their classes before proceeding to their own."
Something resembling the calm and dignified manner Dumbledore had asked for began to make itself know as the students collected their things and began to jostle about.
"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore intoned, "may I have a word before you leave?"
Much like Percy, five years earlier, Hermione was in her element. Most of the Gryffindors were already on their way to their classes, with Hermione and the other Prefects shepherding them to and fro. Harry was clearly not needed in helping to restore order, so he grabbed his satchel of books and materials and turned to make his way to where Dumbledore was waiting for him.
He had not managed to take more than a half dozen steps when he was suddenly and unexpectedly accosted by Ginny, who pushed in front of him and grabbed Harry by the arm. One look at the urgent, and almost panicked expression on her face, brought him to a dead stop.
"Ginny?" he asked, "what's wrong?"
"Harry!" she squeezed his arm tightly, pulling him close so that she would not have to raise her voice to be heard. "I could hear what that snake was saying to you!"
He gently pried her fingers off his trapped arm. "Gin," he soothed, "I cast a translation spell on Nagini and I. Everyone could hear what we were--"
"No!" Ginny persisted. "Before! I could understand before you cast the spell! When it called your name and said that it came bearing a message."
Harry froze where he was standing, staring at her in amazement. Not to mention a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. An idea was forming in the darker recesses of Harry's mind, an idea that could explain this chilling revelation.
Um... are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?
*Could be.*
*So tell us, Harry,* prompted another, *is this something drastic?*
Could be.
***
"Harry..." Dumbledore began, but trailed off as he noticed Ginny coming up to stand beside the raven-haired Prefect. Obviously he had not been expecting her to be the one that accompanied Harry to their little discussion. Usually it was Ron or Hermione, or both, that acted as Harry's complementing bookends.
I really am a part of the group, she thought, a warmth rising within her, forcing back the alarm and worry coursing through her veins.
She watched Harry nod to Dumbledore, a concerned frown marring his features. Thinking about it, Ginny realized that Harry could often be seen frowning in such a manner. The full weight of the wizarding world seemed to rest on his shoulders sometimes. Most times. A swell of pride filled her at the thought that Harry had, as yet, always been equal to the task. He took whatever life, and Voldemort, threw at him... and weathered his way through it.
He would be battered.
He would be beaten.
He would never be bowed.
"We'll discuss everything later tonight, sir," Harry assured the headmaster. "However something of greater importance has come to my attention. I need to see to that before anything else."
Dumbledore met Harry's gaze for a long few moments before glancing at Ginny and giving a nod of agreement. "Very well, Harry. I will trust your judgement in this matter."
"Thank you, Albus," Ginny heard Harry say, silently amazed, awed and horrified by Harry's use of Dumbledore's given name. Harry turned, about to leave with her in tow, when he stopped and added one last... it was far too firm to be a request. In fact, it almost sounded like an order.
"Oh, I almost forget," he said. "Could you please inform the staff that Ginny might be late in getting to her lessons today? I'll try not to delay her too much, but I honestly don't know how long this will take."
Oh God, her mouth was suddenly dry as her terror blossomed to the surface and began twisting her stomach in tight knots. It's as bad as I thought.
Harry looked at her, expressions of worry and concern battling to free themselves from his mask of cool collectedness. "Come on, Gin," he said. "We can continue this in the PFT auditorium." Ginny knew Harry was good at hiding his emotions, burying them inside him, but this time she was more worried than ever.
He seems so... worried doesn't seem a strong enough word, does it?
The journey from the Great Hall to the Practical Fighting Techniques auditorium was made in an uncomfortable silence. Ginny trailed behind Harry, who strode through the hallways of Hogwarts with grim determination. Only a few short minutes had passed since classes began when the pair finally arrived. Harry cut straight to the point, rounding on Ginny as they reached his desk, which was set off to one side of the large stage.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked her, leaning against the nearby wall, indicating for her to take the desk's chair.
"My first year," Ginny agreed, sitting down, "the diary. But I'm not sure how."
Harry nodded solemnly. "Riddle left a part of himself in you. I doubt it was intentional."
The thought appalled Ginny, who sucked in a breath and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Suddenly the room seemed much colder and a lot less safe, even with Harry only a few yards from where she was sitting.
"He put a part of him inside me?" she asked, feeling as if someone very big had just kicked her in the stomach with steel tipped boots.
"We should've expected this, actually. It really is the only way," Harry explained. "After all, until he was strong enough to leave the diary, he had to use you as a proxy. He had to imbue you with Parseltongue so that you could open the Chamber and control the Basilisk without him being there physically."
Ginny slipped off the chair and started crying, just as she had done three years ago, inside the Chamber of Secrets. In an instant Harry was at her side, drawing her into a tight embrace, his strong arms wrapped around her as he pulled her head against his chest.
"It's all right, Gin," he told her, rocking back and forth. "It's going to be alright."
Slowly her eyes dried up and the tears stopped winding down her cheeks. Ridiculously she found herself suffering from a sudden bout of hiccoughs. Harry smiled as she fought to hold down the soft, but incredibly embarrassing sounds. Still, she had to admit, this little embarrassment was a small price to pay. Having Harry holding her to him was definitely worth it.
"I'm sorry," she whispered when the hiccoughs finally subsided. "It's just..."
"I know, Gin," he reassured her as he rubbed a hand in comforting, not to mention sensuous, circles on her back. "I've felt the same way."
Ginny looked up at him, her brown eyes glistening. "But I've got a part of him inside me!"
Reaching up to wipe away the trails left by her tears, Harry shushed her. "So do I."
"What?"
"When he tried to kill me, after killing my parents..." His voice trailed off and she saw his eyes lose their focus for a moment. She knew he desperately wanted a family, a proper family, not anything like the Dursleys, but until know she hadn't realized just how much the loss of his parents pained him.
"Harry..."
He looked back at her, smiling sadly. "I find it an even trade-off," he said. "I got the ability to speak with snakes; he got kicked out of his body for thirteen years."
"Oh, Harry." This time it was she who reached up to gently stroke his cheeks, thankfully devoid of any tears. Harry didn't cry. Not because he was a boy, and she knew how stubborn they were about things like that. Not because he thought he was a hero, even though he was one. It was because, she sometimes thought, he simply didn't know how anymore.
"Gin," Harry tenderly took her hands in his, keeping his eyes locked firmly on hers, "I need you to be quiet for a moment."
Puzzled, Ginny cocked her head to one side and considered him. There was something in his eyes, something she had seen before. It was a look her older brothers, particularly Fred and George would exhibit, usually while planning one of their joke masterpieces. But this was different, this was devoid of the humour the twins bubbled over with.
"What're you going to do?" she asked.
He smiled wryly and actually chuckled before saying, "Looking up an old memory. If it's possible, I think I can help."
"How?"
"I don't know exactly," he confessed with a grin. "I'm pretty much making this up as I go."
***
*Harry, have you fallen off your rocker? This is insane!*
It'll work, won't it?
*Damned if we know.*
*What you're asking... it's never been done before.*
Rom and Rem. Unlike some of you, they're not echoes of the people close to whoever was holding the Order's power. They shared the power.
*Exactly! They shared it!*
Then why can't I do the same with Ginny?
*Because, Harry, Romulus and I didn't share the power between us. The Order shared the power between us! We had nothing to do with it.*
*The power the Order taps into... it's nearly infinite.*
*If something goes wrong, you could crack the planet open like an eggshell.*
Then you'd better help me and make sure nothing goes wrong.
*Harry, the Order has existed since before time began...*
*And will probably still be here after it ends.*
*The point is, it's been around for a very, very, VERY, long time.*
So?
*So when we say this has never been done, we mean, THIS HAS NEVER BEEN DONE!*
Then I'll be the first.
*Why can't you just channel some energy into her? No need to risk everything when you can just siphon off a smidgen here and there.*
*She has a point. The Order's power is practically limitless.*
*You could give her more power than any witch alive, and it wouldn't even put a dent in your energy reserves.*
This isn't about making her stronger. It's about helping her.
*Doez not ze one follow on from ze ozzer?*
*If you took a limited amount and transferred it to her, rather than attempt this link you're proposing...*
*It does work. This we have done.*
Not an option. I will not settle for half measures when it comes to Ginny's well being.
*You love her.*
I'm fifteen. How the hell should I know?
*We're all much older than that. We know.*
Then you should understand. I have to do this for her.
*Is she worth it?*
Worth dying for.
*It may entail just that.*
Then I'll die happy.
***
Harry's eyes had lost their focus for a moment as he held Ginny. A second or so passed, and then he was looking at her again, emerald eyes twinkling with anticipation. But it was not the kind of anticipation Ginny usually saw in Harry. It was not like the gleam he would get in his eyes just before a Quidditch match. It was not the mischievous sparkle present when he teased and played with the twins. It was not the anxious, eager glitter that came before the trip on the Hogwarts Express. No, this kind of anticipation Ginny had seen only once before, nearly three years ago.
Inside the Chamber of Secrets.
The anticipation of battle.
Harry smiled and pulled back from her, just a little, and gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "I think I have a way to help, but only if you want me to," he said, voice soft and low.
"Let's do it," she told him, eager to do whatever it took to get rid of Voldemort's presence within her. It was a feeling of violation that she had felt often in the days following the end of her first year. Months had passed before Ginny had managed to sleep straight through a night, uninterrupted by terrible dreams and memories. And now it was back, all of it, and anything, she felt, was worth burying that sensation once again.
"You might want to hear what it is first," Harry chided, still keeping a firm hold on her hands.
"I trust you, Harry," she answered, peering intently into his eyes, determined to show that she was not afraid. Whatever it was he had planned, Ginny was committed to going through with it.
Harry smiled and lifted their hands so that they were level with their chests. He glanced down and then back up, peering back at her with a disturbing intensity. His thumbs were tracing soft circles over her palms, sending shivers up Ginny's spine as he matched her gaze.
"Don't worry," he assured her, "This won't hurt a bit."
And then Ginny's world exploded.
It was a fire that scorched and scalded her body and her mind, sheer blistering heat that turned everything it touched into powdery ashes.
It was ice creeping ever so slowly forwards, chilling through to the bone, colder than the very harshest winter and worse than anything sadness, grief and remorse could offer.
It was so soft, almost imperceptible, like the gentle touchdown of a butterfly, or the caress of a warm summer breeze playing with her hair.
It was the hard bluntness that made her bite her cheek when the twins hit at her with Bludgers during a family Quidditch match.
It was louder than the screams of accusation that haunted her dreams of Tom Riddle, louder than the cries of agony and terror she imagined Harry had heard.
It was silence, the vast emptiness that could be felt while sojourning into a graveyard during the ghosting hour after midnight.
It was the tender, fulfilling fantasy of Harry's soft and loving touch which made her feel alive as she had when the world was new and she was young.
It was a brutal rape, such as she had suffered emotionally under the control of a Dark Lord's memory, one she had been helpless to stop.
It was the isolated intensity of a bee sting, a needle, the lance of a sharp knife sliding over her flesh, leaving a line of red.
It was all encompassing, like being smothered in a warm blanket, or drenched in a shower of ice cold water, dumped from a bucket propped above a doorway.
It was the burning she felt on those nights, alone in bed, when her mind wandered to Harry and her hands and fingers wandered elsewhere.
It was pain.
It was love.
It was nothing and everything she had ever experienced.
It was incredible.
When Ginny finally came back, opening her eyes wide and sucking in a deep breath, she found herself off the floor and resting in the chair by Harry's desk. Harry was crouched down beside her, one hand on her shoulder, the other feeling for the pulse at her wrist. Her mouth was dry and it took several tries before she could speak.
"I thought you said it wouldn't hurt a bit?!"
"Oops."
"Oops?" Ginny could scarcely believe his words - word. Oops? That's all he has to say? Oops? She looked up at Harry, who graced her with an apologetic shrug and then smiled happily.
"Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix."
TBC...