Harry Potter and the Loss of Innocence

Chapter Eleven: To Have Your Luck

Rolling stone
Gathers no moss,
But leaves a trail
Of busted stuff.
~Dave Matthews Band: Busted stuff

The week went by in a blur for Harry. Snape had actually given Harry an E on his essay. Professor Flitwick had forgiven Harry for skipping his class. Thia had given Harry a look when he entered the classroom that he could not translate. It was, he thought, a mix between pity, concern, and disapproval.

It was now Friday and Defense Against the Dark Arts was the last class of the day. Thia had started out the class by telling them that something had popped up that she had to take care of Tuesday and Wednesday night. Because of that, she had not had time to correct their tests; she had barely been able to correct the seventh years' tests and hadn't even gotten to the fifth years'.

So they spent the class decorating the classroom. It was more fun than Harry had thought it would be. She taught them a charm that would change the color of the wall. They decided, after a heated discussion, that they would "paint" large squares and rectangles of different colors on the walls. The Gryffindors made sure there was a large red square, the Hufflepuffs a yellow one, the Ravenclaws a blue one, and the Slytherins a green one.

The wall behind the pictures was changed to pitch black in respect for the dead. Harry had let his name for it slip one night when they were talking about it in the dorm. The other boys had liked it and it had spread among the sixth years. Dean, who was a talented artist, had created a sign to hang over it and they put it up. At the moment, he was drawing a large lion to place on the red square above.

Everyone agreed that the bookshelves had to be changed, but they couldn't decide how. In the end, they decided to "paint" them a deep purple color, almost black, and the back panel a golden yellow, to lighten them up. Someone accidentally knocked off a shelf, but they left it crooked and "crooked-fied" many others. They transformed some rocks that Professor Black had allowed them to collect from the lakeshore into misshapen book holders to keep those books in place.

Someone added a pin to the map of Great Britain to show where they lived and everyone else followed suit. Harry placed his pin right next to Ron's. They finally stopped working and took a look at their new room.

It was definitely odd. On the walls, people had started to use odd shapes, not just squares and rectangles. There were several shades of reds, blues, yellows, greens, pinks, purples, oranges, browns, and even one square of white. The maps still hung straight, but now one was covered in multi-colored pins. The bookshelves were a usable mess and the colors were complementary. And the Wall of Loss stood out as the only black spot in the room, its sign appearing to cry from the pain.

Someone looked down at the floor and laughed. In stripes running between the bookshelves and the windows were zebra and leopard prints. In the middle of the room, where they would be dueling was a rectangle painted differently. It had four stripes, one red, one yellow, one blue, and one green.

Thia smiled at them and waved at the floor. "You like? I thought it added something. I think that I will come up with some competition for the middle. Maybe, it'll be something along the lines of the house cup but on a smaller scale. If Dean would draw me a badger, eagle, and snake I will add them to the stripes. Well, I'll come up with something." The bell rang and the students grabbed their bags and headed for the door. "Have a good weekend."

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At six Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny headed to the Room of Requirement to get ready for the D.A. meeting that night. There wasn't much to set up, but the people asking him what he planned to do that evening had started to annoy Harry. Unfortunately, Ron was also one of those people, and now that everyone else was gone he wouldn't stop asking.

In the end, Hermione yelled at him to shut up and Ginny hit him hard on the shoulder. Ron sat in a big comfy chair in the corner and rubbed his shoulder sullenly. Harry laughed at him and thought about what he planned to do. He had sneaked a peak in the fifth and seventh years' classrooms and saw that they also had Walls of Loss. He had taken a look at some of the pictures and felt a leaden weight fall to the bottom of his stomach. How was he ever going to survive a duel with Voldemort?

But those Walls had given Harry an idea. He now knew what he was going to say and teach this year. He had informed any new people that tonight's meeting was for last year's members only. He had let the returning people know that too, so that they wouldn't bring a guest. He knew he would have to find a way to initiate new members, so that they didn't have a repeat of last year. Not that it mattered as much, but Harry didn't want to train the next generation of Death Eaters.

Everyone was there by 7:08 and they sat in chairs, beanbags, and on pillows forming a semi-circle around Harry. Professor McGonagall was sitting in a chair off to the side, next to the fireplace. Harry looked at each eager face and sighed. He'd hate to say what he was going to, but someone had to say it. He ran his fingers through his hair, once again contemplating changing his mind about tonight's lesson. Well, he thought to himself, it's too late for that. He glanced at the clock once again and saw that it was 7:11. He'd wasted eleven minutes and he would need them.

"Hello, everyone. Welcome back to the D.A. Because we're legit this year, we need a teacher supervisor. It will either be Professors McGonagall or Black. I hope none of you mind." There were murmurs of no and people shook their heads. "Good, 'cause it's a little late to change that." He looked around at the people and sighed.

"Other than those here, no one under the fifth year will be allowed to join, because of the rules. I am also going to invite Slytherins to join. They lost as many to the Dark Lord as our houses did. Maybe extending the hand of friendship will deter just one of them from taking the Dark Mark." Harry sure hoped it would, it would be one less enemy and one more ally. "I think that the Sorting Hat's right. Just because you're sorted into that house doesn't make you bad.

"You all know Sephra, or at least know of her, the new girl?" There were nods and some yes's so Harry continued. "Well, even though I'm positive that she's against Voldemort," even among this group the majority shivered or gasped at the name, "she's a Slytherin. And something Professor Black said during our first class hit home. Being Slytherin doesn't mean being evil. The Sorting Hat has never described them as such. He always calls them cunning or shrewd or I don't know. But you get my point?"

"I'm not befriending a Slytherin!" Zachariah Smith said hotly. There were several people who agreed with him. Harry thought he saw McGonagall let out a small sigh of disappointment in them. He glared at Zachariah and then ran his hand through his hair once more.

"What if I was a Slytherin? The amazing, famous Boy Who Lived?" Harry asked bitterly.

His question was met by silence. He shook his head bitterly. He turned to Ron, who had agreed with Zachariah, and asked him, "Where would our friendship be if I had ended up in Slytherin?" Ron looked away guiltily. "Even after turning away Draco's friendship for yours, you would desert me, just as you were ready to desert Sephra." He glanced around the room and went on with what would be one of the harder things he would tell them that night.

"Well, I almost ended up in that house. It was because of biased people's opinion of that House that made me tell the Hat that I wanted to be in Gryffindor and not in Slytherin." Once again there was silence, but this time it was a stunned silence. "I've only ever told Professor Dumbledore that. Even when I asked the Hat again a few years ago, it stood by its statement. 'You would do well in that House.' That's what it told me." Harry took a deep breath before he continued.

"I've thought about that a lot recently," Harry informed them quietly. "And I have to agree. I have a lot in common with the typical Slytherin. I dislike, if not hate, many people. I'm not against breaking the rules. I lie to get out of trouble. I have a certain cunning that allows me to get out of danger with my head still attached to my neck. I'm not against retreating to live to fight another day. I'm very introverted when I want to be, and my temper can't be beat when it reaches boiling point." Harry stopped and ran his fingers through his hair once again. There was complete silence. He took a peek at McGonagall and her face was shining with pride.

"But I ask myself, 'How did I pull Gryffindor's sword out of the Hat my second year?' Because my choices make me what I am, and I'm not what people typically think a Slytherin is. I don't curse or kill those I hate every chance I get. I own up to my rule-breaking if pressed to or faced with proof. I don't leave without my friends when they're in trouble. I always come back to fight. And, with one or two exceptions, I always apologize for losing my temper." He stopped thinking about what he was about to say next.

"But does that make me a Gryffindor? I don't think so either. What is a Gryffindor then? What is a Ravenclaw? What is a Hufflepuff?" Harry stopped to let them think about it. "I think what makes us a member a certain House is harder to describe than simple adjectives like brave or smart or loyal. It's something deeper than that. Hermione's the biggest bookworm in this room, yet she's a Gryffindor. Ron is a loyal friend, yet he's not a Hufflepuff. And I'm a poster child for the Slytherin house. Yet here I stand as a Gryffindor. I'm going to invite Slytherins to join the D.A. If any of you have a problem with that, there's the door." He pointed at the door and had the room open it for him. No one left.

"Do you stay because you agree with me, or because you want to learn?" Harry asked them sadly. "Does that make you any better than the bias purebloods out there killing in the name of Voldemort? Don't have double standards for yourselves. Don't stoop to their level."

Harry looked at each person and noticed that several wouldn't meet his eyes. He shook his head in disappointment and he ran his fingers though his hair again. "I'm not asking you to be friends with Death Eaters. I have my own problems with them and I want them to see justice just as much as you do. But not every Slytherin is a future Death Eater, and not every Death Eater was a Slytherin. Please, remember that. Please, don't forget that." Harry turned to look into the fire. He wasn't sure how to say the next part. He hadn't come up with a way to say it right.

"I've lost people throughout my life," he started without turning to face them. "I've been dealt a bad hand more than once in my life. I know that. I also know that's why many of you wanted to learn from me. Because I've fought Death Eaters and Voldemort and basilisks and dementors. And somehow I'm still here. Well, that was a load of luck. I shouldn't be here," he told them frankly. "But help always came at the right time. I can't teach you that. There's no way for me to teach that. You either have it or you don't." Harry started to turn but decided not to. Ron and Hermione were slightly worried for Harry. Normally, he wasn't this forthcoming. He didn't talk like this. They hoped that he was all right with it.

He turned to face them, but he kept his eyes on the floor. Tears were threatening to fall. "How many of you still have parents or families that love you?" Most of the hands went up and Harry turned away. "The odds are that you won't survive a meeting with Voldemort. Actually, I'm the only person I know to beat those odds more than three times. But I'd trade my luck for the luck of those who raised their hands." Ginny noticed a slight shake in his shoulders. She thought it was a small sob. He continued after a moment. "But that's why we have to fight. That's why we can't lie down for them. So that our younger siblings and our future children don't have to grow up fearing the name Voldemort like we have had to. So that they don't have to fear death at his hands or by his orders."

He stopped. His throat had closed up once again from the tears that were threatening to spill. It took a while for him to get himself back under control, but once he had he turned to face them. They were lucky; none of them had a Prophecy hanging over their heads. "We have to fight. We have to learn to protect that which we love. We have to, because that's exactly what Voldemort doesn't want us to do. He wants us to hide and cringe in fear. Well, he'll be disappointed. If someday the fates are cruel to you and you meet him face to face, remember that. He wants you to cringe and tremble. Don't. It might be the last thing you do, but at least you went down fighting, not giving him pleasure."

The clock struck eight and Harry cursed himself. He knew he'd run out of time. He turned to look at McGonagall wanting permission to continue. Though curfew wasn't until nine, clubs couldn't go past eight. She nodded her head in approval, and Harry continued.

"I won't be much longer. I can't teach you luck and I can't teach you how to survive Voldemort, for as I said earlier, I shouldn't be here. I can't make you accept Slytherins and I can't make you see the spies in your own house. But I can teach you to defend those you love. And I can teach you how to fight for those you love. I've decided to focus more on offensive spells this year. If we're going to be an Army, then we better know how to fight. If any of you think that I'm wasting your time or if any of you are going to have major problems with the Slytherins, don't come back. Just hand me your galleon when you make that choice. I don't want those to fall into the wrong hands."

"I'm not teaching more than 35 people, and Slytherins are going to have first dibs on the empty spots. All people must be cleared through me. Do not bring someone without my approval. Is that understood?" Everyone nodded. Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm going to ask Dumbledore, er," Harry said with an apologetic look at McGonagall, "Professor Dumbledore to make an announcement on Sunday about the club. Hopefully, he will say that if anyone is interested they should see me. With the exception of Slytherins, it's a first come first served basis. If some one comes up to me and is number 36, I'm sorry, they won't be allowed in. Thirty-five is already a lot for one person to teach, but I do want to let in new members and several Slytherins, so we'll make do." Harry looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was already 8:23. "Well, that's it. I hope you all have a good weekend."

They all got up and left in twos or threes until they were all gone, except for Professor McGonagall, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Harry sat down tiredly in a huge fluffy chair that had just appeared behind him and put his head in his hands. "I didn't step over the line did I, Professor?"

She stared at the boy sadly. She had had a hard time remembering throughout that speech that Harry was a 16-year-old boy. He seemed so much older and wiser. But he was only a boy forced to grow up too soon. "No, Harry, I don't think you did. I think you had to say exactly what you said." Harry looked at her thankfully, and she smiled at him.

"Oh, thanks." He stopped and looked into the fire. "I had more too, that I just remembered. Oh well, I'll save it for next time. Thank you for supervising, Professor. I really appreciated it. It's so nice not to be slinking around."

"Goodnight, Potter. Weasley." She nodded to him. "Miss Weasley. Miss Granger." She nodded to them both and then left the room.

"I'm sorry about putting you on the spot, Ron. It wasn't right of me, but I couldn't tell you before hand. I'm sorry," he apologized to his best friend, only glancing up from where his head was sitting in his hands. Ron couldn't be mad at such a sad figure and readily forgave him.

"No, mate. I'm the one who should be sorry. I would have turned my back on you." He shook his head, but Harry couldn't see it. "Thanks for showing me my problem, it's something that I need to work on."

"Harry?" Ginny asked quietly. When he didn't respond, she walked over and sat on a stool that had appeared in front of his chair. "Harry, look at me." He still wouldn't, so she grabbed his head and lifted it. He was crying. "Oh, Harry, why won't you tell us what's wrong?" she exclaimed. She stood up, sat on the arm of the chair and hugged him. Harry returned his head to his hands, but this time everyone could see the sobs. Hermione went and sat on the other arm and hugged him also. Ron stood behind her and put a hand on a bit of shoulder that was visible.

Harry was thankful for their comfort. He couldn't hold it in after McGonagall left. The tears that had been threatening all night had come, unbidden, and he couldn't stop them. Ron's apology hadn't helped either. After about ten minutes, the sobs stopped and Harry shook the girls off and had three chairs show up in front of him. They took the hint and sat in them. Harry turned towards the fire, trying to get his thoughts in order.

"Thanks, you guys are great friends." He stopped, for the tears were threatening again. "I miss them all. I want the pain to stop. I want to be able to think about them without feeling the tears come up. I want to be able to talk about them without sobbing." He stopped and looked at them desperately. "It sounds selfish, but I want to be able to think of them all the time. I don't want to limit it to times when I'm alone. I want to be able to tell everyone about them. How much I loved them and what they did for me, but that's impossible if I'm going to cry every time."

He stopped and felt the tears come back painfully. Ginny got up and hugged him again. Ron was surprised to see Harry lean into the embrace, and expected him to wrap his arms around her. Harry might have, had the two of them been alone, but he was just happy to be held right now. And he didn't want Ron mad at him.

"I don't want to dream anymore," he started quietly again, his head still on Ginny's shoulder.

"But, Harry," Hermione started concerned, "without dreams how can you plan a future." Harry sobbed silently into Ginny's shoulder and he almost told them about the Prophecy, but he couldn't.

"Not those kind of dreams, Hermione. It's been awhile since I've had one of those." He pried Ginny's arms off of him and looked her in the eyes. He was once again surprised at the amount of love and comfort he found in that gaze. "Thanks, Gin," he told her so quietly that Ron and Hermione didn't hear.

"I've had nightmares just about every night since the graveyard at the end of fourth year." He shivered from those memories. "They're about Cedric or the rebirth or that stupid door all of last year. And this summer I added Sirius falling through the veil and then Sephra's parents." He put his head back into his hands.

"Sephra's parents?" Ron asked confused.

"I was looking at the pictures on Monday and I recognized them. They were the couple who I watched die in July. Don't tell her how they died; she doesn't need to know that. I have a feeling that the Aurors didn't let her see the bodies afterwards." He stopped and shook the image out of his mind. "I haven't slept well all summer, except for my birthday. I keep waking up from them and then falling back to sleep for a different one."

"Oh, Harry." Hermione looked at him sadly. "Why must you keep this to yourself? Why didn't you tell any of us? Ron, how could you not notice?"

Ron glanced at Harry and then looked at Hermione apologetically. "I did know. I also know that Harry hates it when you make a big deal about stuff like that, so I didn't tell you. Sorry, 'Mione." Harry looked up and smiled at Ron. He was glad that Ron was his best friend. He knew how to handle Harry's moods well. "Anyway, you couldn't have changed anything."

"Talking about stuff like that helps. My grandfather was in the military during WWI. He kept what happened to him bottled up for years. It wasn't until my aunt, who is psychiatrist, got him to talk about it that he started to feel better. It helped the dreams go away." Hermione shook her head at Harry. "Sometimes, Harry, you are so stupid. You know that?" Harry nodded. It was brutal, but she was right. The clock struck nine.

"Great, now we have to watch out for Filch," Ron complained loudly, but everyone decided to ignore him as they headed out to the Tower.

Once they were in bed, Harry thought that he would have a good night's sleep, because all of the talking and crying had tired him out. But he was wrong, as he usually was.

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"Mwahahahahaha." Loud sadistic laughs rang out all over the tiny village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Harry glanced at the houses burning all around him. There were mutilated bodies lying everywhere. One of the laughs was coming from his left, and he turned to see Bellatrix torturing a little girl. Harry moved to stop her, but his body wouldn't respond.

Instead he opened his mouth and laughed a cold pitiless laugh. Harry felt his scar explode with pain. Great, just what I need, he thought, another vision from Voldemort.

"Bella, I hate to rip you from your games, for I do enjoy watching your fun, but we have other things to do. Go get the others and meet me at the bridge." Bella gave him one pout before bowing. She left the child to die slowly. Voldemort decided to finish the job and used the Cruciatus on her. The girl cried out in fear and pain, but this just made Voldemort happier and Harry's scar explode in more pain. He released her and killed her with a quick "Avada Kedavra!"

Voldemort walked slowly through the village, listening with pleasure as his Death Eaters ravaged those who lived here. This was the first Revelry since his return and it was going as planned. His Death Eaters were destroying the worthless muggles and soon they would deal with the blood traitors that lived to the south.

Harry was mortified by what he saw. There were limbs lying all around. The bodies they belonged to were strewn about like garbage. He heard several Death Eaters taunting a teenage girl down one alley. He watched as more Death Eaters tortured what could have been her parents; but Harry couldn't even tell if they were human with all of the spells that had changed their shape. People were screaming all around him. People were dying and they would die in fear. These muggles would only ever meet the magical world once and this is what they saw. No wonder muggles feared witches and sorcerers. If this was all Harry saw of his world, he would too. In fact, this blatant disregard for human life scared Harry. How could they win against enemies that were so willing to kill and torture?

"Ah, Severus. I see you've had a bit of fun." Voldemort swept his hands at the poisoned forms of four dead muggles and one going through his death throws. Snape nodded and bowed to his master. "Come, we are heading to the blood traitors now. I'm sure you would like to join us." Snape bowed even lower and followed Voldemort through the village. At the bridge, Voldemort turned back to survey the village. It was completely and positively destroyed. It was amazing, the amount of destruction these humans could cause without once feeling grief. However, the sight brought a smile to Voldemort's face and because of that smile, Harry's scar felt as if it ripped in two.

Ten minutes later, Harry felt his blood run cold as a familiar sight unfolded in front of him. He had dreaded that this was where Voldemort and his Death Eaters were heading. Harry felt his heart break as the only house he had ever called home appeared: the Burrow.

"Cast an anti-apparation ward," Voldemort commanded Snape. He cast the spell, and a pale orange bubble appeared over the house, but that sign soon disappeared. "Let us knock to let them know that they have guests." He flicked his wand at a large stone and sent it flying at the house. It missed the door and went through the window instead. "Oh, I missed. I must try again." He sent another through the other window and the Death Eaters laughed at his joke. Harry was angry to see that Snape joined in as well.

The door opened and Harry's heart fell as Mrs. and Mr. Weasley came outside. Harry could see that they had their wands out and that their hands were shaking, but they came out nonetheless. Harry hoped that Bill and the twins had gotten out safely.

"Hello, Tom," Mrs. Weasley said in a confident voice. Harry was filled with pride at her next words. "Would you like a cup of tea? I'm sure you've been busy killing innocent muggles and must be thirsty. Could you please introduce us to your little friends? I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting before."

"Shut up! Do not talk to me, woman," he spat at her. "I am here to collect the bill this family has been running high. You associate yourselves with muggles, mudbloods, and half-bloods, which is just as revolting. Your total is a very painful death. Crucio!" Harry watched as Mr. Weasley fell under the curse. After several minutes, he lifted the curse. "Bella, the woman is yours. Do with her what you wish."

She stepped forward and pointed her wand at Mrs. Weasley. "Crucio!" Harry watched as Mr. Weasley stepped in front of the spell. Bella lifted it quickly. She didn't want to enrage her master by wounding him.

Voldemort laughed, and then turned toward one of his servants. "See, Wormtail, that is the bravery you lack. Arthur Weasley, you are a true Gryffindor and scum of the magical world. Do you have any last words?"

"Just a few. One, how anyone could turn against their own blood like you have is beyond me. Two, you may kill us, if you can. Three, beware of Harry Potter. He is sick of your games and will destroy you one day, when he is ready. He is preparing for you and when you met him, well, I'll be glad I'm on his side and that I'm not you. I'd stop your games, your Revelries, if I were you."

"Well, Arthur, I am not you, and I am not frightened by a little boy. Goodbye." He pointed his wand at Arthur and said, "Avada Ked--"

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"Harry, Harry," Ron was shaking him roughly. "Wake up, mate, it's just a dream."

Harry rolled over and vomited onto the floor, losing everything that he had eaten for dinner. Then he threw up again, losing everything that he had eaten for lunch. Then he puked , losing everything that he had eaten for breakfast that morning.

"I need," Harry croaked, but his voice was sore and dry. He must have been screaming. Someone handed him a glass of water and his glasses. It was Seamus. He drank the water and turned to see the worried looks on the faces of his dorm mates. "I need to see Dumbledore. Now."

"Scourgify!" Ron said, pointing at the mess on the floor. "No, I think you need to see Madam Pomfrey."

"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" Professor McGonagall asked, coming into their dorm room. Harry had a flashback to Christmas last year and felt his stomach lurch again. He hoped that Mr. Weasley had gotten away, but deep down he knew that it would have been impossible.

"Yes, but I need to see the headmaster. I had a dream about a revelry," he added slightly emphasizing the last word. McGonagall caught onto it and motioned for him to follow her. Ron followed them out, but Harry wished he hadn't. It was going to be hard enough to talk about it without having Ron there, but it was Ron's home and Ron's family in danger. Harry knew that Ron would feel a lot worse. And if they were dead, then he would need to tell Ginny. Harry felt himself hoping that they had miraculously survived.

McGonagall stopped in front of the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office and said shortly, "Skiving Snackbox." The gargoyle leapt aside and they climbed onto the moving staircase. At the door, McGonagall knocked using the griffin doorknocker.

There was a short pause and then Dumbledore said, "Come in." They entered and Dumbledore rose to greet them. "You weren't who I was expecting." It seemed that Dumbledore was talking to himself, so Harry ignored it.

"Potter had another vision, Albus. He wanted to talk to you about it, and I find that I agree with him." Dumbledore looked at Harry worriedly and motioned them to sit in the chairs that he had conjured for them. Harry noticed that there was a fourth chair. He guessed that it was for whomever Dumbledore was expecting.

"Please, Harry tell me about it." Dumbledore looked at him through his half-moon glasses and absently stroked his long beard.

"It started out in a village," he stumbled over that word glancing at Ron. "The Death Eaters were torturing the muggles that lived there. Voldemort told Bellatrix to get some Death Eaters and to meet him at the bridge. On his way he met Snape..."

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"He met Snape and they met the others at the bridge. They walked to the... the..." Harry couldn't say it. He looked at Ron and shook his head. He just couldn't say it.

"The Burrow?" Dumbledore asked quietly. Ron went ashen-grey when Harry nodded and he almost threw up.

"They threw some stones through the windows and Mrs. and Mr. Weasley came out. They exchanged some words and Voldemort used the Cruciatus on Mr. Weasley." Harry was now looking at his shoes. This was worse than last year. "Then Voldemort told Bellatrix to do as she wished with Mrs. Weasley. Bellatrix cast the Cruciatus, but Mr. Weasley took the spell. That amused Voldemort, but he was done playing. He was casting the killing curse when Ron woke me. I don't know if they survived."

"Why didn't they disapparate?" Ron asked confused.

"Because Snape cast an anti-apparation ward. They couldn't," Harry answered bitterly. If the Weasleys were dead because of this, Snape would pay dearly.

"Please, Harry, he is still your Professor. Show him some respect," Dumbledore said tiredly.

"I can't show respect to someone who uses his gifts to murder, sir. I just can't."

Dumbledore sighed sadly. "Because of Severus, we knew about this attack. Conveniently, the Weasley boys living at home were at friends' houses tonight. Ron, we will have to wait and see if our plan for your parents worked."

"Why didn't the Order just attack them, if they knew about it?" Ron asked.

"Because, if too many of Voldemort's plans go awry, he will start doubting loyalties," Dumbledore answered. "Severus will be one of the first to lose Voldemort's trust, for several reasons. Your parents volunteered to do this. In fact, most of tonight's plans were theirs." Harry couldn't help but feel impressed. No wonder they were so calm. They had known that it was going to happen.

They sat in silence for several minutes, waiting for Dumbledore's other guest. Harry looked around the room. He spotted Fawkes, and the bird sang a bit of its song. Just that small bit gave Harry strength. He saw the sword he pulled from the Sorting Hat next to the Sorting Hat itself. He couldn't believe that only a few short hours ago he had been talking to the D.A. about this year's goals. Harry wanted to ask Dumbledore about giving an announcement at lunch, but held himself in check. Now was not the time for that.

On the walls were pictures of the old headmasters and mistresses. They all feigned sleep, but Harry caught two or three peek a look at them. He looked at the cupboard that held Dumbledore's Pensieve. Harry wondered what new thoughts Dumbledore had added recently. There was a quick knock at the door and everyone turned.

"Come on in," Dumbledore said loudly. In walked Snape, still dressed in his Death Eater robes. His sharp eyes took in Harry, Ron, and McGonagall, and only showed surprise for a quick moment.