What It Takes

CHAPTER THREE: THE NEW MEMBERS

"Ooooh, Harry! You don't know how wonderful it is to see you, sweetheart!"

Harry had barely enough time to step out of the fireplace before Mrs. Weasley flung her arms around him. She seemed to mind little that he was covered from head to toe with soot. Tonks, Moody, and Kingsley emerged from behind him, Tonks carrying Harry's belongings while the two men attempted in vain to brush themselves clean.

Footsteps thundered down the steps. Harry could hear excited cries of "He's here! He's here!", and a moment later three notably enthusiastic redheaded boys charged into the sitting room. The tallest, but youngest, of these boys had stopped himself before falling, but the moment his twin brothers collided with him, knocking him off balance, and he tumbled to the floor. Harry rushed over to give him a hand.

"Nice to see you, too, Ron," said Harry, laughing as he lifted his best friend off the floor. He turned to the twins. "George, Fred, how are the two of you faring?"

"Things are going just swimmingly," Fred answered with an air of mock sophistication as he bowed to Harry. "My good chap, on your next visit to Diagon Alley, you must make a point to stop by Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!"

George nodded, laughing haughtily. "Business is absolutely thriving, dear boy! Bigger success than Zonko's, if we do say so ourselves!"

"And you do say so," Ron muttered. "Repeatedly!"

Harry smiled, but glanced nervously at Mrs. Weasley. She had never approved of the fact that her twin sons' greatest ambition was to open their own joke shop. She'd been even less enthused when, last term, the two boys had fled Hogwarts after a run-in with the thankfully long-gone Headmaster Umbridge. But now, Harry sensed no signs of anger or annoyance at mention of the joke shop. Perhaps Fred and George had indeed been as successful as they claimed, and the booming business had been enough to quell Mrs. Weasley's anger.

"And where are my girls?" asked an energetic Tonks as she tossed her cloak onto a nearby chair.

"Upstairs," said Mrs. Weasley. "Hermione's only just arrived. She and Ginny are up in their room. You might pop up later, Tonks, and let them know you're back."

Tonks nodded. "Will do. And what about Remus and Severus?"

"Remus is...mooning," said Mrs. Weasley. "That time of the month, you know. Luckily, Severus made him a good drought of Wolfsbane Potion before he had to leave. As of now, though, Severus is...um...well, he's--"

"Out," finished Ron very matter-of-factly. "That's all they bother to tell us, anyway. Secret business...a bunch of codswallop, if you ask me. I say, if I'm staying in this house, I'd like to know what's going on!"

"Well, it's absolutely none of your business, Ronald Weasley!" huffed Mrs. Weasley. "Now, off to bed with the four of you! Big day tomorrow, very big day."

She moved to hurry Harry and her three sons up the stairs, but Fred and George moaned in protest. "We don't need you to shove us out, Mum," they said, and at once, both of the twins disapparated.

Harry followed a very reluctant Ron up the staircase toward their bedroom. "What was that all about?" he asked quietly. "Why's tomorrow such a big day?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Search me. That's what they've all been saying--Mum, Lupin, all of 'em. Course, they won't tell any of us kiddies what's going on. We're just supposed to sit back and take their word for everything, aren't we?"

Harry was beginning to remember the one thing that infuriated him about the Order of the Phoenix--if the children weren't kept totally in the dark anytime anything important happened, they were at best the last to know. A lot of good that did, Harry thought bitterly. Keeping him in the dark last year had caused more trouble than it was worth and had gotten people killed.

He shook the thought from his head. Maybe the Order had learned their lesson. Surely, if they needed Harry's full cooperation, they wouldn't be so stupid this time as to leave him utterly clueless.

***

He didn't crawl out of bed until late in the afternoon the next day, and he woke then only because there was so much commotion going on downstairs. The loud murmur of voices could be heard on the floor below, even through the heavy wooden bedroom door. Some of the voices, actually, were distinguishable. Harry easily made out Mrs. Weasley's high-pitched squeals of delight, Moody's gruff croaking, and the ominous rumble of Snape's voice, which reminded Harry suddenly of thick molasses poured over broken glass.

Just as Harry rose to change out of his bedclothes, Ron came bursting through the door. "About time, mate!" he said. "Everyone's waiting on you to come down."

Harry furrowed his brow, exchanging the top of his pajamas for a black T-shirt. "What's going on down there? What's everybody doing here?"

"A meeting, I guess," said Ron as he tossed Harry a pair of khaki shorts from his trunk. "Must be an important one. The entire Order's here. That's why Lupin sent me up here--said they can't start the meeting without you. Boy, Harry, are you lucky! Mum would never let me sit in on one of the Order's meetings!"

Harry felt his stomach lurch. "Wha...what to they want me there for?" he stammered.

Ron shrugged and motioned for Harry to follow him out of the room. "Search me," he said. "They wanted Fred and George, too, but mostly you, it seems. Nobody tells me anything, of course. No problem, though. I've still got a couple Extendable Ears on me."

Harry laughed. "Don't bother with Extendable Ears," he said in a soft voice, because they were moving toward the staircase, closer to the congregated members of the Order. "You'll only get yourself into trouble. Besides, you know I'll tell you everything, anyway."

Ron smiled his thanks and looked as though he was about to say something more, but he was cut off by cheers of greeting as he and Harry entered the sitting room.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. He'd met quite a few members of the Order of the Phoenix, perhaps twenty, but he never could have imagined that the Order had gathered this many members in just the past year. At least one hundred wizards filled the sitting room, which had obviously been charmed to hold the large crowd, and all of them were staring directly at him. The only ones witches and wizards that came forward to greet him personally were one that he knew well--Mundungus, Mr. Weasley, Bill and Charlie Weasley, and lastly Remus Lupin.

"Wonderful to see you again, Harry," said Remus, shaking Harry's hand soundly. "And I'm glad to see you made it back here in one piece. You know, I half-figured Moody would want to cut you up into bits and analyze you, just to make certain you were the real Harry Potter."

Moody growled good-naturedly at this. Fred and George Weasly squeezed passed two rather portly wizards and nodded to Harry. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught site of Ginny and Hermione, who was holding Crookshanks. Both girls smiled and waved to him but did not dare make their way through to throng of witches and wizards to greet him. Harry returned to gesture, then whipped his head in the direction of the witch whose familiar voice had just called out to the group.

"Now that we're all assembled," Professor McGonagall shouted over the crowd, "let us all retire to the meeting room." She turned her eyes to Harry and the Weasley twins. "Fred, George, Harry, if you would be so kind as to follow us."

"What's this all about?" Harry whispered to Fred as the crowd herded out of the sitting room and down the hall toward the meeting room.

Fred shrugged. "Dunno," he muttered, glancing swiftly at George. "You know how secretive they are."

"Guess we'll have to wait till we get in there to find anything out," said George.

Very quietly, the witches and wizards filed into the rows of seats set up in the meeting room, which was an enormous square ballroom with high ceilings and a large podium at the front, where Fawkes the phoenix sat perched, looking absolutely splendid with his brightly colored plumage. Harry had never been in this room, but he assumed that, like the sitting room, it had been charmed to hold a great number of people. Harry look to Fred and George, who seemed just as unsure of what, exactly, they were supposed to be doing. The three of them silently resolved to find seats, but another familiar voice stopped them.

"Boys, come with me." They turned to find Dumbledore motioning for them to follow, and Harry beamed excitedly at the headmaster as he and the Weasleys made their way toward him.

The congregation grew suddenly quiet, and Dumbledore took his place behind the podium, gesturing for the boys to stand beside him. Harry's eyes swept over the crowd. In the front row sat McGonagall flanked on either side by Lupin and Professor Snape, whose appearance caused Harry's mouth to go dry.

Ron, of course, had written Harry weeks ago to tell him that Mrs. Weasley, unbeknownst to Snape and positively appalled by the man's persistent greasiness, had fixed the Potions Master with a permanent Immaculus Charm. Why, Harry wondered, had he not noticed the difference when Snape had come to visit earlier that week? The oily black roots had been replaced by a shining dark mane. Even Snape's skin seemed healthier, less sallow. His build had filled out considerably, also, which no doubt had something to do with Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking. The once-horrid professor now looked--was it possible?--almost...handsome.

Snape fixed his stare on Harry suddenly, as if realizing he was being watched, and nodded in what would have been a congenial manner had a scowl not taken form on his face at the sight of his least favorite student. Harry turned his eyes away quickly and focused on Dumbledore, who had already begun to address the group.

"--the necessity for new recruits, as I'm sure we are all aware. Fred and George Weasley, under my guidance, have completed their schooling over this summer. Together, they have opened Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes which, if any of you have ventured to Diagon Alley in the last month, you have undoubtedly seen."

Dumbledore turned to glance quickly at Harry before continuing. "Perhaps the greatest mistake made by the Order of the Phoenix this past year was our failure to inform Mr. Harry Potter--the one wizard who is of the utmost importance to our cause, the wizard affect most greatly by it--of our actions. It is imperative that we do not repeat this mistake in the coming year, and I'm sure all of you will agree."

There was a quiet murmur from the crowd. Many were nodding their heads, staring up at the four gathered at the podium. Then, Dumbledore's gaze fell upon Harry and the Weasley twins.

"Boys," he said softly, "it is my great honor to invite the three of you into the Order of the Phoenix, if you are willing to accept the responsibilities that come with the position."

Harry felt his jaw drop. Membership, in the Order of the Phoenix? That's what this was about? He, Fred and George shared stunned, confused glances, then turned to Dumbledore and nodded frantically.

"Very well," said Dumbledore with a smile of satisfaction. "Fred, George, step forward please."

The twins moved closer to Dumbledore, still beaming ridiculously.

"As members of the Order of the Phoenix, I am entrusting the two of you with the duty of keeping an eye on goings-on in Diagon Alley. Diagon Alley and neighboring Knockturn Alley have been the center of much Death Eater communication over the past year, and it is imperative that we have as many members as possible present to uncover new information. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the excellent and accomplished Auror, has agreed to train the two of you if you should choose to accept this duty."

"We accept!" said the twins in unison. Harry could hear Mrs. Weasley's tears of joy emanating from the back of the room.

"Then place your right hands upon the podium, palms up," said Dumbledore.

The twins did as instructed. Fawkes bent slowly over George's hand and pecked his index finger, revealing a drop of blood as she moved to perform the same task on Fred's hand. Dumbledore grabbed the boys' fingers--first George's, then Fred's--turned them over a small vile, and let a single drop of blood fall into it, muttering a charm Harry was unfamiliar with.

The two boys moved away suddenly, and Dumbledore gestured for Harry to take their place.

"Harry Potter," said Dumbledore solemnly, "at the age of one, a strange and powerful link was forged between you and Voldemort."

A frightened rumbling issued through the room at the sound of Voldemort's name, but Dumbledore did not seem to take notice.

"This link has saved you from a death at his hands no less than five times in your short life, but it has also brought about serious, irreparable damage. But whether it is a blessing or a curse, the link is undoubtedly our greatest asset in our fight against the forces of darkness. Harry, if you should accept membership into the Order, it will mean working tirelessly to harness, control, and channel the power that accompanies your link to Voldemort. Are you willing to accept this?"

"I am," said Harry, nodding. He placed his right hand upon the podium, just as Fred and George had done, and watched as Fawkes bent over it. He felt only a mild sting as Fawkes pecked at his finger. Dumbledore lifted the vile, squeezed a drop of Harry's blood into it, and returned it to the pocket of his robes after muttering the same unfamiliar charm had had muttered the first time.

"Well," Dumbledore sighed, "now that that's settled, let us adjourn to the basement, where I believe Molly has already prepared cookies and pumpkin juice for all of us."

The crowd rose and moved en masse toward the doors of the meeting room, and Harry moved to follow, but as he started toward the door, he caught Remus' eye. The man looked very sad, he noticed, and a bit worse for wear. Likely, however, last night's full-moon excursion could be held accountable for that. The full moon, however, could not account for loneliness. And, if anything, Remus looked indescribably lonely.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but closed it suddenly. Remus nodded, then averted his gaze and fixed it on Dumbledore. Oh well, thought Harry. There would be time to speak to him later, wouldn't there? In fact, he decided suddenly, he would wait for Remus, then go down with him to retrieve the snacks that Mrs. Weasly had prepared, and perhaps they could then speak to one another.

Misery, after all, loved company, did it not?

***

Remus took a deep breath before approaching the podium. The meeting room was empty now, with the exception of Professors Snape and McGonagall, Headmaster Dumbledore and, of course, Remus himself. As he moved, Snape turned to glare hard and searchingly at him, as if to discern what business the werewolf might have with the Dumbledore.

"Headmaster," said Remus, "I was wondering...if Kingsley is to be training the Weasley boys, will Harry not need a tutor as well? I am well-acquainted with the boy, sir. Perhaps I could--"

"Do not fear, Remus," said the headmaster, gesturing politely for Remus' silence. "I have thought the matter through already." He turned his attention to Snape, who was standing a small ways off and had been, no doubt, listening to every word spoken. "Severus, if you would come here, please."

Snape appeared startled for a moment, then moved swiftly toward where Remus and Dumbledore stood. "Yes, sir?" he said hesitantly.

Dumbledore, it seemed, collected his thoughts for a moment, and then spoke. "If Mr. Potter is to learn to control and harness the power of his link with Voldemort, it is crucial that he become a skilled Occlumens once and for all. I, of course, would gladly take on the task of teaching him, were I not so dreadfully busy as it is. And so, Severus, I ask you once again, will you be so kind as to take up this duty?"

Remus gasped. "Headmaster, I--"

"Remus, please!" said Dumbledore. "I truly do appreciate the concern you're showing for the boy and his well being, but I wish for Severus to assume these duties, not you, Remus."

"But Headmaster," Remus started again, "with all due respect, Severus and Harry do not get on particularly well. I don't doubt for a moment Severus' qualifications, but do you really think it best that Harry be instructed by someone he neither likes nor trusts?"

Snape snarled characteristically at Remus. "Do you think I actually want to spend every waking minute with Potter, Lupin?" he spat. "Between Potter and myself, the ill feelings are quite mutual. But I recognize that I have a duty to this Order, and for that reason I am willing to tutor the boy, however much I may or may not enjoy it."

"You see?" Remus cried to Dumbledore, pointing an accusing finger at Snape. "Is Severus truly fit to be teaching Harry?"

"Me?" Snape growled. "I'm not the one running around beheading house elves, am I? Or should we just blame that one on the wolf in you?"

Snape's scathing comment was nearly as painful as the indifference coming from Dumbledore. Dumbledore, of course, had not been particularly pleased with Remus' recent beheading of Kreacher, but what was there to be done about it? Remus was a grown man, so he could not be scolded like some Hogwarts student most certainly would have been. Kreacher was dead; nothing was going to change that.

If Remus hadn't learned already that the dead did not come back to life, then what hope was there for him?

"Severus," said Dumbledore coolly, "I am aware that you and Mr. Potter are not on the best of terms with one another. I do hope, however, that once and for all you are able to put behind your petty grudges, if not for your own sakes, then for the sake of the Order."

He turned next to Remus. "And as noble as your intentions may be, Remus, I believe that Severus is indeed the best candidate for the job. A superb wizard though you are, you do not possess Severus' skill in Occlumency."

Remus' mouth tightened. He could recognize a defeat, and when it was one at the hands of Albus Dumbledore, he was not particularly adamant about contesting it. "Very well, then, headmaster," he said, and then turning to a smug Snape and nodding, "Good night, Severus."

He turned to make his way out of the meeting room, but Dumbledore called after him.

"Yes?" said Remus, spinning on his heels to face the headmaster again.

"I was wondering," Dumbledore began slowly, "you wouldn't, by chance, possess a Vibratory Sneakoscope, would you?"

Remus cocked his head and stared quizzically at the headmaster. "I do, in fact. Why?"

Dumbledore sighed contentedly. "Moody and Mundungus are venturing off into Hogsmeade tomorrow to gather information, and they seem to have misplaced theirs. The Order possesses a number of regular Sneakoscopes, mind you, but the loud whirring noise isn't of much benefit when you're attempting to remain inconspicuous, of course."

Remus felt suddenly indignant. Is this what he was now? A gopher, a mere lackey, for the Order of the Phoenix? Dumbledore tossed out an order, while Remus ran off to fetch a Sneakoscope--was that how this was going to work? Was that all he was good for?

But what was he thinking? This pride, this arrogance...that had never been what defined Remus. No, he thought to himself, that light was always reserved for Sirius to shine in. But that wasn't fair, either, was it? He couldn't--no, wouldn't--think of Sirius that way. Sirius wasn't proud, merely self-assured. Sirius wasn't arrogant, merely tempestuous and a bit rash at times. Sirius didn't deserve those harsh words associated with his name, not after all he had done for the Order, for Harry, and for Remus himself.

"Very well, sir," Remus said, struggling to maintain a composure that the mere thought of Sirius threatened to demolish. "I shall get that to Moody first thing in the morning."

Dumbledore nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Remus."

And with that, Remus turned once more, this time resolved to leave the meeting room once and for all.

When he stepped through the heavy wooden door, he expected to find a number of witches and wizards standing about, chatting idly over glasses of pumpkin juice. He had not, however, expected to find a red-eyed Harry Potter.

"Don't let him do it, Remus!" Harry said, shaking his head ever so slightly as he gazed up at Remus. "I don't want that git teaching me, not anymore!"

Remus sighed sadly and patted the top of Harry's head. "Me either," he said. "But sometimes, Harry, we must accept the duties given to us."

CHAPTER FOUR: THE BINDING BAND

"Where's the bike?"

"Remus, it's happened. I...I don't know what to say...."

"What's wrong? Sirius, please don't tell me...."

"Dead...."

"Who's dead? Peter? James? Who? God, tell me what's wrong! Please, tell me!"

"Swear it, Remus. Swear to me on your very life that you aren't in league with him, that you're not his spy! Swear it!"

"I swear! Merlin! You know I would never betray the Order! Now tell me, what's happened?"

"Remus, James and Lily are dead."

"What! You mean...Voldemort? He's killed them? But how! How could Voldemort know where they were?"

"I'm not...I mean, I wasn't...I don't know, Remus."

"And what's happened to Harry?"

"Voldemort went after Lily and James first, killed them both. But when he got to Harry...he couldn't kill the boy."

"What?"

"Voldemort's gone, Remus. Something about Harry--I don't know what--destroyed him! The war...it's over."

"And where is Harry now?"

"Dumbledore has him. As of now, that is. Hagrid met me at the Potters' hiding place, said he was under orders from Dumbledore to retrieve Harry. 'But I'm his godfather,' I told him. God, Remus, I couldn't stand it, to just hand Harry over like that. But who the hell am I to go against Dumbledore's orders? I gave Hagrid my bike so he could get back to Dumbledore quicker. That's why I had to apparate."

"And what are they doing with Harry?"

"Taking him to Vernon and Petunia's."

"No! You can't be serious! Not that horrible woman and that god-awful husband of hers! They can't take him there!"

"Dumbledore wants him in the Muggle world. I can't say I understand exactly, but.... I have to get out of here."

"I'll go with you--"

"No! I need to be alone, I...I don't know. Oh, Remus....Remus, listen to me. I've...I've got some things to take care of. I just...I want you to trust me...."

"I do trust you, Sirius, but don't leave. Please!"

"Take this, then, and wear it."

"What is it?"

"A Binding Band. I've got one, too. See? If we're both wearing them, we can communicate mentally with one another, speak inside each other's minds."

"Where'd you get these?"

"Doesn't matter. But listen to me, Remus--I have to go. I have to. Just please, wear the Band so you'll know I'm safe."

"Sirius, I love you."

"I love you, too. Remember that...no matter what happens. They can kill us, Remus, but they can never tear us apart...."

***

It wasn't a Vibratory Sneakoscope, no, but it had, for some reason, been placed in the same box as one.

How long had this thing been stowed away? Ten years? Longer? Remus couldn't remember when it had been that he'd given up hope on Sirius' innocence. In his first years in Azkaban, perhaps? He'd struggled for so long to read the truth from Sirius' mind, but all but pain and despair had been sucked away by that place, it seemed.

But what if...? No, it couldn't. Sirius had likely tossed his own Band away years ago or had, perhaps, misplaced it, as Sirius had always been prone to do with many things. And even if he had been wearing it when he went through the Veil of Mysteries, what good would it be? Sirius was gone. Sirius was...dead.

Remus could not explain the hopeful feeling that came over him as he twirled the Binding Band in his hand, studying the tiny Celtic engraving upon the sold silver, and then slipped it on his fingers. He knew there would be no response from the other end, but a part of him was silently praying to every deity he could think of that, in a matter of seconds, he would be hearing Sirius' voice once again.

"Sirius," he whispered aloud.

Nothing.

"Sirius, can you hear me?"

The only answer was a cruel and heavy silence. Foolish, to believe anything could have happened. Sirius is gone, you idiot. You can't keep pretending otherwise.

He sighed heavily, then pulled the Sneakoscope from the box in the bottom drawer, laid it on the dresser top to give to Moody the next morning, and finally crawled into bed, praying again, this time for the power to accept the awful truths he could not change.