The Temple of Le Fay

Chapter Twenty-Six: Connections Revealed

It had been thought that an April Fool's Day without the Weasley twins would be a quiet affair. Filch the caretaker had even arranged to take the afternoon off, apparently believing that there wouldn't be too much work to do.

In this he was mistaken.

Fred and George had been the undisputed kings of jokes, pranks and mischief during their seven years at Hogwarts. With their departure, however, the title was open for someone new to claim

The inaugural - and highly unofficial - inter-house Chaos Cup had been arranged. Each house had nominated their leading troublemakers, and they all had to create magical chaos in the most public manner possible. It was a challenge that they rose to admirably.

Dean and Seamus got off to an early start, awakening the entire school by sending the school owls, laden with Fred and George's most explosive products, to every dormitory in the school. Points were lost, however, as Ron and Neville both had to go to Madam Pomfrey for minor burns treatment. The organisers of the tournament had expressly forbidden the causing of physical harm, and Seamus admitted making a mistake in sending the strongest explosives to their own dormitory.

Blaise Zabini put forth a valiant effort, but lost control of the fireworks set to go off in the Great Hall during breakfast. Points were deducted for poor execution and lack of originality, but not for causing physical harm as Blaise was the only person to suffer any injuries.

Hufflepuff entrant Zacharias Smith earned maximum points for originality, but his unleashing of a pack of Cornish pixies during his History of Magic class failed to cause any chaos. Instead, the pixies panicked at the sight of the spectral Professor Binns, and fought each other to get back in their cage. Smith was in a filthy mood for the rest of the day, not helped by the laughter that had greeted his failed attempt.

The undisputed winner was Ravenclaw Orla Quirke, who earned maximum points for daring, execution and originality. The third year girl managed to add fresh Stinksap to every cauldron in her year's Potions class with the Hufflepuffs. The extra ingredient caused a string of explosions and a great sea of froth that filled all of Hogwarts' dungeons and bubbled up onto the floor above. Snape, in his fury, called for the expulsion of every Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff third year, a punishment that was reduced by Professor Flitwick to two months detention for Orla when she owned up to spiking the potions. Orla returned to her dormitory after her first detention that night to find an orange and pink pewter mug flashing brightly on her bed. It was marked with Fred and George Weasley Memorial Chaos Cup and, after working out how to control the flashing lights, Orla carried it with her everywhere.

Dean, Seamus, Blaise and Zacharias all said that they were intent on winning the trophy the following year. Seamus and Dean illustrated their point by turning the hair of their fellow sixth years green without their noticing.

*

Harry was in good spirits the following day. Snape was still in a foul mood and he had sought out every small failure during double Potions that afternoon, but the class had been preparing Polyjuice potion for the last several lessons and Snape had been unable to find fault in Harry's work. Ron and Hermione had escaped Snape's wrath as well, but everyone else had had to take extra work. Harry had already crossed Seamus and Lavender off his list of study sessions that week, and suspected that Neville, Blaise, Ernie and the other sixth years who were studying Potions would be canceling their sessions as well.

Other than Potions, the day had been pleasant enough. Hagrid had obtained a shoal of Malaclaws for them to study in Care of Magical Creatures. These beasts vaguely resembled lobsters, but anyone who received a bite from them would suffer bad luck for the next several days. Goyle was stupid enough to prod one repeatedly, and was bitten by it. The class watched in amazement as a small meteor fell from the sky and landed heavily on Goyle's foot. So shocked was he that it was several seconds before he bellowed in pain, and Crabbe had to help him up to the hospital wing. A particularly unlucky combination of strong winds, freak migration patterns and illness on the part of the birds passing over Hogwarts at that moment meant that both Slytherins would also need a long shower before being seen in polite company again.

Definitely a good way to start the day, Harry grinned.

Defence Against the Dark Arts had fallen between lunch and Potions. Harry had, for the first time, dueled Dean to a standstill. While he had been roundly defeated by his roommate and Professor Skeeter in every other duel during the lesson, he felt proud that his constant work was paying off. While other students had chosen to focus on other weapons - Seamus had proven very adept with a quarterstaff, Ernie with a pair of Japanese Sai daggers - Harry felt vindicated in his decision to stick with Godric Gryffindor's sword. Harry's right hand tingled as he remembered dashing Dean's sword from to the floor, and the look on his roommate's face as he realised that he'd actually lost the duel.

To cap it all, a short letter from Sirius - his first since going into St Mungo's - had brought the news that he was up and about, and would soon be able to receive visitors. Much more than anything else, this had improved Harry's mood considerably. He was certain that worrying about Sirius had made him more ill then he would otherwise had been.

The only cloud on the horizon for Harry was in knowing that he would soon have to break off links with Sirius. From what Sirius' letter had said, Remus hadn't told him about the way Harry had been acting since Halloween. It seemed that Remus was determined that Harry would have to justify himself to Sirius, and Harry knew that his godfather would be the hardest person to convince.

He spent twelve years locked away in Azkaban. He knows what it's like to be isolated. It's going to be hard to convince him to accept my decision, that this is the life I'm choosing for myself.

But that was in the future, and now it was late, nearly too late to grab some dinner. Harry had conducted a long Arithmancy review session with Colin, Vickie and a group of other fifth years. In truth, he'd learnt much more from them then they had from him, but his presence had seemed to inspire Colin, the smaller boy mastering several intricate Arithmantical concepts with Harry's encouragement. Harry had joined in the applause when Colin finally overcame, without help, a problem that had plagued him all year.

When the study group finally broke up, Harry had stayed behind to tidy up the classroom, and now he was walking towards Professor Trelawney's classroom. For all his resolutions to master all the classes offered at Hogwarts, Harry knew that he couldn't ever begin to comprehend Divination. He was grateful to be away from Trelawney's wild prophecies of his death, and shivered slightly as he approached her room. Having to deal with the aftermath of her first 'real' prophecy over the school year had been quite enough for him.

Harry's mind moved quickly on from Trelawney, and settled instead on a sixth year Arithmancy text that he'd borrowed from Terry Boot. His irregular bouts of exhaustion had finally disappeared and, while his sleep had been troubled during the recent spate of attacks by Voldemort's forces, he was now fully rested and feeling as well as he ever had. He was almost looking forward to reading the textbook ("Even More Really Evilly Complicated Numbers: To Be Honest, These Ones Are Just Here To Cause You Hassle") even though he knew that he would struggle with most of the words in the book, let alone the numbers. So preoccupied was Harry with thoughts of the book that he didn't notice the trapdoor opening as he passed underneath it.

*

Ron and Hermione were sitting down to dinner when Ginny arrived in the Great Hall. She was alone, as she always seemed to be these days. The sleepless nights that she had been suffering from had left her tired and irritable, and she had withdrawn from her friends, she said, until she was in a better mood. Weeks later, and she didn't seem to be cheering up at all. Even Ron, whose anger with Harry had been replaced with anxiety for his parents and his brothers, all of whom were tied to the resistance movement, had noticed how unlike herself she had become.

She sat opposite them, and offered a wan smile. They ate in silence for a time, before Hermione said "Ginny, what's wrong?"

Ginny shook her head. "Nothing."

"You've been off colour for weeks now. Have you seen Madam Pomfrey?"

Ginny shook her head. "I'm not sick, Hermione. I'm just feeling stressed."

Ron looked up, giving up his pretense of not listening. "Stressed over what?"

"OWLs, Dad, Quidditch, Harry... Take your pick," Ginny sighed. "It's all getting on top of me. I know that Dad's helping fight the Death Eaters, so every time there's an attack, it seems like I can't sleep. All the rest is pretty standard, but not knowing about Mum and Dad is really horrible."

"I'm worried too," Ron admitted. "But Dad's not an Auror. He wouldn't be fighting the Death Eaters."

"I know," Ginny said. "I can't help it, though. If he were caught, what could he do? He can't fight like Mad-Eye or Sirius."

"He'll be fine," Ron said. Dropping his voice even lower than the whispers they'd been conversing in, he added "Dumbledore wouldn't ask him to do anything dangerous. That's what Moody and Dead Eye Diggle are for. There's plenty of Aurors on our side." He glanced surreptitiously at Hermione, and then winked at Ginny. "Remember the ones staying at home over Christmas?"

Ginny grinned slightly.

*

The skin on the back of Harry's neck prickled. He stopped, and looked behind him. The silvery ladder from Trelawney's class descended from the ceiling. Without quite knowing why, Harry darted down a side corridor. He peered back around the corner, staying deep in the shadows. In nearly six years at Hogwarts, he had only known Professor Trelawney to leave her room once. For some reason the idea of her doing so again just as Harry passed by made him feel uneasy.

Is she missing me in her classes so much that she's decided to ambush me?

But the sight of two figures descending the ladder dispelled any thought of Trelawney from his mind. The figures were far too large to be his scrawny former Divination teacher, and they moved with more purpose then Trelawney ever did.

Harry shook his head, and was about to turn away. Between Morgan Le Fay, his work and the study sessions hat he seemed to be conducting with every student in the school, he had enough to worry about without taking an interest in Professor Trelawney's social life. In fact, he was quite glad that she had people visiting her. He'd always imagined that she had quite a lonely life, alone in her room.

Then one of the figures spoke, and all thoughts of there having been paying a social visit to Trelawney flew from his mind.

*

Ginny looked up from her dinner, a shiver coursing down her spine as she lost track of what Ron and Hermione were talking about. After several seconds, she blinked, and realised that Hermione was talking to her.

"Ginny? Ginny!"

"Sorry, what?"

"What's wrong?"

"I, I don't know," Ginny said, unable to put her finger on the source of her sudden discomfort. "I think someone just walked over my grave," she added.

"Ask Nick," Ron grinned, nodding to where Nearly Headless Nick was chatting with Lavender and Parvati.

Ginny managed a weak smile, and turned back to her dinner, trying to decide what it was that was making her feel so very uneasy all of a sudden.

*

"Idiot! Now you'll have to leave, of course. You'll have to go into hiding. The Dark Lord may help you, but I wouldn't count on it. You've put all his plans in jeopardy, Green, and I shouldn't imagine that he'll be grateful."

Harry's hand settled on the pommel of Godric Gryffindor's sword, the familiar tingle making him shiver.

Feels like the first time that I held my wand. Guess there's magic in this sword. I hope it's enough.

The two men who had come down from Trelawney's room passed into the moonlight shining through the windows. Harry's eyes widened as he recognised them. The one who had been silent was one of the stupid-looking research wizards. The one who was talking... Harry cursed himself for his stupidity.

How in the name of Merlin did I not see it before?

It was the research wizard who had argued with Lockhart and insulted Hermione. His long, blonde hair, normally bound up in a ponytail, hung loose around his face.

He was part of Minister Fudge's inner circle.

He was the man that Harry had seen stabbed in the arm by Voldemort.

He was a Death Eater.

*

Ginny looked up sharply, a bead of sweat appearing at her hairline, and trickling down her forehead.

This time it was Ron who noticed her evident unease.

"Ginny, what's wrong? Do you want to go to Madam P-"

Ginny held up a hand to silence her brother. Her expression was fixed and far away.

*

Harry stepped out of the shadows, Godric Gryffindor's sword held before him, glinting in the moonlight.

"What have you done?" he asked. The two men spun around.

"Blast," the blonde man said. "I should have known. The Dark Lord warned me about you, Potter. You have a nasty habit of showing up where you're least wanted.

"Yeah, that's me," Harry said. "Anything to upset your precious Dark Lord."

"If that's the case, Potter, then tonight you've failed. Miserably. Green, I think I've just thought of a way of saving your worthless life. Idiotic though your torture of that so-called Seer was, I imagine that if you bring Harry Potter's dead body to our master, all shall be forgiven."

Green chuckled roughly. Before Harry could react, the blonde Death Eater had drawn his wand, and had it pointed between Harry's eyes.

"For the record, Potter, my name is Aptar Quayle. I think it's only fair that you know the name of your killer."

*

"Harry's in trouble," Ginny said. Her voice sounded as though it was coming from a great distance.

"You what?" Ron said.

"I, I don't... Ron, Harry's in trouble!" Ginny said, much louder. A few people looked around, but Ginny ignored them.

*

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry hadn't been ready. Quayle's spell caught him and Gryffindor's sword fell from his hands.

Oh, damn.

"Avada Kedavra!"

This time it was the other man, Green, who cast the spell. Harry was saved only because he was staggering backwards from Quayle's attack. The green bolt hissed past him, and Harry gasped as it exploded against the wall just beside him.

That was too close. Concentrate, Potter. What do you do when you're unarmed and facing two trained wizards? Oh, yeah, run.

"Idiot," Quayle hissed. "This is how you stop someone like Potter here. Crucio!"

*

In the Great Hall, Ginny screamed.

*

Harry buckled, his body hitting the ground, his senses firing wildly as he was overwhelmed. His thoughts were scrambled, he was unable to form a sentence, a word, a sound. He shook, helpless, at the feet of Voldemort's followers.

It took him several seconds to realise that the curse had been lifted. Cautiously, achingly, he looked up, expecting to be cursed again at any moment.

"We can torture you to insensibility, Potter. No one will hear you scream. It's what we did to your so-called Seer, after all."

Green laughed roughly, clearly delighted by the thought of Trelawney hurt and helpless. Harry felt a surge of fury rising in him, and pushed himself up from the floor.

"Look, Green, the mighty Gryffindor rises. What can we do?"

The two dark wizards laughed. Harry rose, gasping deep breaths, onto his knees and then stood up, aware the whole time of the two wands pointed at him. Slowly, carefully, he drew his own wand and pointed it at Quayle.

"Potter, honestly," Quayle's laughter stopped suddenly, and he snapped at Harry. "While I can't speak for my associate, I am not stupid. I know full well that you've lost your powers. You can hardly go for five minutes in this place without hearing one infernal child or another mooning over you. Bad enough that I've spent these last six months pretending to work on your behalf, Potter, now you treat me like I'm an imbecile. I know that you're powerless, Potter, so don't think that I scare easily."

"I'm not trying to scare you," Harry hissed through gritted teeth. It was taking all of his self-control to stand upright. Anything else - magic, scaring a fully grown Death Eater - was beyond him. But he didn't want to die, didn't want to be tortured again, wasn't going to let them get away with torturing Trelawney.

His body ached, but Harry's mind burned with a fury that seemed to make his entire body tingle.

Surely, if I delay long enough, help will come.

Surely someone must know what's going on up here.

*

Teachers and friends surrounded Ginny. Professor Dumbledore somehow managed to find a way to the centre of the chaos, where Ginny, her skin almost white, was sitting as though in deep shock, shaking slightly, but otherwise completely still. Sweat poured freely down her face, but when Hermione took Ginny's hand in hers, her skin was ice cold.

Dumbledore knelt beside her, and gently laid one hand on her shoulder. Ginny shuddered at the contact, and a slight moan escaped her lips.

"Miss Weasley? Ginny? Do you hear me?"

Ginny took a deep, gasping breath, and nodded slightly.

"What is wrong with Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Ginny shook still harder, but a look of determination hardened her expression, and she seemed to calm down slightly.

"He's fighting," she forced out, raising one hand to her head. "Death Eaters," she managed to add, before growing still paler. Her eyelids fluttered, and she groaned.

Dumbledore's face was unreadable. He was absolutely motionless for a long second, before rising to his full height and issuing a series of orders.

"Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, I'll ask you to take Miss Weasley and her brother to my office and await us there. Miss Granger, please fetch Madam Pomfrey and join them there. Filius, please spread the word, it is time. Severus, Maureen, with me, please. We must go to the Divination corridor. Everyone, please, be careful."

Hagrid scooped Ginny easily into his arms and set off for Dumbledore's office, Ron and McGonagall trailing behind him. Hermione followed as far as the doors before heading for the hospital wing.

Flitwick, Dumbledore, Snape and Skeeter hurried to the small room behind the staff table. Once there, Flitwick threw some Floo Powder onto the fire, and plunged his head into the flames with a muffled squeak of "The Burrow!"

Dumbledore rapped his knuckles sharply against the frame of a painting. It swung forward, revealing a gloomy passageway. Without a word, Dumbledore, Skeeter and Snape plunged into the passage and started to run.

*

Harry swallowed with difficulty. The two men were staring down at him contemptuously, savouring the moment of his capture.

A grin spread slowly across Green's face. Harry could almost see the thought forming behind his eyes. Green raised his wand, and the world seemed to move into slow motion again, just as it had at the Quidditch match weeks before. Harry's wand came up, and he saw Green hesitate for a moment, before his confidence returned, and he grinned evilly. Harry could feel the air around him tingle, could feel himself tingle as a spell was readied.

But it wasn't Green who cast the spell.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

It was Harry.

*

In the hidden passageway, the three teachers continued their charge towards the Divination corridor. For a second, Dumbledore faltered, but before the other two could react, he was running faster than ever before, a small smile on his lips.

*

In Dumbledore's office, Ginny gasped, and then was still. She breathed calmly, and colour began to return to her cheeks. Hermione and Madam Pomfrey burst into the room just as Ron, Hagrid, and Professor McGonagall exchanged a quizzical look.

*

Green wasn't exactly frozen by the spell. Although unable to move, he was thrown backwards by the force of the impact, and slammed hard into the wall, cracking several of the stone blocks.

Harry's wand glowed brightly in his hand like a light-bulb, and a small smile played upon his lips. He advanced on Quayle, who sneered, a little nervously.

"So, the great Harry Potter is not above spreading lies and mistruths? Don't think for a second that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fears you, boy. He is as ready to kill you with your powers as he was without them."

"Not lies," Harry said. "I lost my powers. Now I have them back again. Just in time to capture another Death Eater. One more for Azkaban," he grinned.

"Then I'll use Lucius Malfoy's lawyer," Quayle spat, a little of his confidence returning to his face. "He'll be free soon enough, and I won't be far behind, Potter. You can't keep us away from our master for long."

"I don't have to," Harry said. "But if you do get free, I've got a message for your master. Tell him that I'm coming for him. That I'll be ready for him when we fight. Tell him that I've got nothing to lose anymore. Tell him that there's nothing he can do to hurt me. Tell him that when I face him, it'll just be him and me."

"Oh please," Quayle sneered, this time with a great deal more conviction to it. "As though I would waste my breath. When I see my master, all I shall tell him is that I defeated Harry Potter. If you have it in your power, then hex me, Potter. I'm standing here, at your mercy. Do you really have your magic back? Or was that just a trick? Shall we test it? Stupefy!"

"Protego!"

"Impedimenta!"

"Protego!"

"Petrificus Tota-"

"Expelliarmus!"

Quayle's wand flew from his hand, and clattered to the floor at the far end of the corridor. Quayle staggered backwards from the spell, his arm hanging limp by his side where Harry's Disarming spell had caught it. His blonde hair hung about his face, and in the moonlight he looked pale and scared.

"It doesn't matter," he spat, trying to shake some life into his arm. "Even if you take me, a dozen will rise to take my place. His power touches everyone, Potter. You don't stand a chance."

Harry stared at the Death Eater. The sleeve of his robes had fallen away as he shook it, revealing the Dark Mark glowing silver on his arm. Quayle followed Harry's gaze and laughed.

"My master knows, Potter. He knows that I have fallen in his service. I won't put my hands up and surrender. I am loyal to him."

"To the end?" Harry asked coldly.

"To the end. To the pain. To the death."

"Ferula!"

Bandages sprung from Harry's wand, twining themselves around Quayle, who crashed to the ground. His head pounding, his body aching, he approached Quayle, and crouched beside his prone form. The light from his glowing wand illuminated his face, but from below, casting shadows in the wrong places. Quayle shuddered, but fired off one last shot.

"He'll come for you and your friends, Potter. He's already taken your family. Now he'll take everyone else that you care for. He'll break you!"

"The High Court can decide what will happen to you," Harry said. "I hope they put you up on trial. Another Death Eater caught, another of Voldemort's followers beaten. As for him breaking me, I wouldn't bet your last Galleon on it. I'm alone, Quayle. I took down you and your friend without breaking a sweat. I don't have anyone I care for, so Voldemort can't hurt me. And I'm only going to get better, do you understand? If you somehow do get away, tell your master that."

Harry pointed his wand at Quayle for a fraction of a second, enough to make the bound Death Eater flinch, but then he cast another spell to bind the unconscious Green.

"Harry?"

Harry sunk to his knees, his wand clattering to the cold flagstones, the light dying as it left his fingers. He shuddered violently as the adrenaline in his body seemed to vanish, leaving him with only the aching aftereffect of the Cruciatus curse.

"Harry?"

He slumped against the wall, his eyes fixed on Green and Quayle. He dimly registered Snape and Skeeter crossing his line of vision, checking on the prisoners.

"Harry?"

He looked up, the muscles in his neck and his shoulders and every other part of him protesting.

"You wished to use your magic, I take it?" Dumbledore said. Harry nodded, achingly.

"Well, excellent," Dumbledore said. "Professor McGonagall will be delighted. She wasn't looking forward to failing you, Harry, I must say."

Snape said something under his breath as he checked Green's bindings.

"They are secure," he said at last. He gave Harry a completely unreadable look.

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "I imagine by now that Filius will have contacted everyone. Harry, can you walk?"

Harry nodded. He pushed himself slowly, painfully to his feet. Skeeter handed him his wand, and he noticed that she had Green and Quayle's wands tucked into her belt.

"You never know when you might need another weapon," she said, scooping up Godric Gryffindor's sword smoothly.

Harry took one step, and stumbled, crashing into the opposite wall. Snape clicked his tongue in a way that made Harry try and force himself back upright, but firm hands clasped his shoulders.

"Harry, do not overdo it," Dumbledore said. "Did they use the Cruciatus curse on you?"

Harry nodded, wishing himself under Madam Pomfrey's care, where a soft bed and a dark room would be his to recover in.

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore said. "Once again, I have let those into the school who would harm you."

Harry shook his head dully.

"Harry, rest," Dumbledore said. "Just relax, Harry."

"Trelawney," Harry said. "They tor-"

Harry sank backwards.

*

"Ginny? Ron? What are you doing here?"

Ron, Hermione and Ginny looked up to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley emerging from Dumbledore's fireplace. Ron gave a strangled yell, and ran to embrace his parents. Ginny broke free of Madam Pomfrey's care and joined him.

"Where have you been?" Ron barked at Mr. Weasley. "We've been worried sick!"

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged amused glances.

"Aren't we your parents? We're supposed to worry about you, I thought," Mr. Weasley said.

"Dad!" Ginny said. "We're being serious. I've been so scared!"

Arthur and Molly looked closer at their children, and their expressions grew more serious as they saw the deep worry lines on Ron's forehead, and the dark bags under Ginny's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Weasley said, shifting uncomfortably. "You know what we're doing. I'm never in any danger. That's all I can say."

"That's not good enough," Ron's expression was stern, and Mr. Weasley shifted again. "Sirius and Professor Lupin write to Harry all the time. You can't go a month without writing to us."

Mr. Weasley looked slightly ashamed. "We won't," he said at last. But we can't tell you what we're doing. You understand that, don't you?"

"In fact, Arthur, I feel that the time has come to involve these four young people more in what we are doing." Dumbledore stood in the doorway of his office, his eyes twinkling.

"It seems foolish," he continued, "to deny them information that may save their lives, especially as they seem to so often find themselves in situations that put their lives at risk."

"Four of them, Albus?"

"Four, Arthur."

Dumbledore stepped aside to reveal Harry sitting in mid air, his skin as pale as Ginny's had been.

"Harry!" Molly and Ginny dashed to his side. Molly laid her hand on his forehead. Ginny clasped his arm in her hands.

"Albus, Harry's ill!" Molly yelled. Dumbledore winced, and wiggled his little finger in his ear as though checking whether Mrs. Weasley had damaged his eardrum. Madam Pomfrey pushed impatiently past him to check on Harry.

While Harry was being checked on, Snape, Skeeter and their prisoners came in. Ron felt as though the room was very crowded, far more so than was the addition of another three people would explain. Looking around, he realised why.

While the Weasleys had been otherwise occupied, dozens of wizards and witches had Flooed into the room. In one corner of the room stood Mad-Eye Moody and another man he recognised as Dedalus Diggle, although the former Auror looked much thinner and considerably less bruised then he had done in Diagon Alley, months before.

As Ron watched, Remus Lupin appeared in the fireplace. He stepped out of the fire, cleaning off his robes with a wave of his wand, and came to stand by Ron.

"Another typical day at Hogwarts, I see," Lupin said, glancing at Harry. Harry had awoken, and was feebly protesting being fussed over.

"Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore intoned. "Harry will be fine. You will go with Professors Flitwick and Skeeter to the hospital wing. Professor Trelawney has been attacked, and she requires your care. Severus, Maureen, you will accompany Alastor to our guest quarters and take into custody the Ministry employees quartered there. I assume you'll want to question them, Alastor?"

"Right," Mad-Eye replied shortly, his magical eye fixed firmly on Quayle.

The faculty members nodded, and left. Molly and Ginny stayed by Harry's side, each holding one of his hands. He seemed to have resigned himself to the situation, and had stopped struggling.

"Forgive me, Harry," Dumbledore said, waving his wand. Harry was guided into Dumbledore's squashy, comfortable chair, and slumped gratefully into it. He gently extricated his arms from Molly and Ginny's grip, and clasped his hands in his lap. Ginny didn't react, but the two teenagers shared a look that Ron felt had more to it than he would understand.

Harry looked around the room, and then up at Dumbledore.

"The old crowd?" he asked tiredly. Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"Yes, Harry. This is the 'old crowd' to whom I referred on that night two years ago. Everybody, this is Harry Potter, Ron and Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger. Tonight, should they be willing, they shall be joining the Order of the Phoenix."

To be continued...