Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

By Moon Weasley

Chapter Eight:

The Headmaster Inquisition

The sound of brisk footsteps echoed off the walls as Harry Potter determinedly walked the by now familiar route to Dumbledore's office. While quickening his pace Harry shook his head in despair remembering the shouting match his two best friends had engaged in just minutes earlier. Trying desperately to prepare for the extensive peace negotiations he feared would be in order when he returned from this planned inquisition, Harry couldn't help but feel that the beginning of the school year had come off to a somewhat rocky start what with old babysitters turning out to be witches and Ron and Hermione going at each others throats multiple times a day.

As he approached his intended destination, Harry quickly pushed Ron and Hermione's latest squabble to the back of his mind, and instead turned his focus to the matter at hand. A long line of questions that had bottled up over the last four years was on the tip of his tongue and he honestly hoped this visit would turn out enlightening. It was about time the old goat gave him some honest answers, Harry mused decidedly as he rounded the last corner and headed down the corridor leading to the Headmasters office.

He soon reached the statue of the ugly gargoyle, which hid the secret stairs that led up to Dumbledore's quarters. Harry briefly studied the huge figure and couldn't help but wonder how a mellow and easygoing chap as Dumbledore had chosen such a hideous creature as guardian of his office. Not exactly decorative, Harry thought dryly while mulling his password-trouble.

The last time Harry had stood facing this revolting piece of stone the password had been Cockroach Cluster. He however felt pretty confident that Dumbledore had changed it again by now. He tried it anyhow just in case but unsurprisingly the statue didn't even twitch at his words.

"Chocolate Frog?" Harry tried but still no movement. "Sherbet lemon? Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans? Sugar Quill? Fizzing Whizbee? Pear drop? Droobles Best Blowing Gum? Liquorices wand?"

Nothing happened.

"Damn," Harry cursed quietly to himself. Harry knew that Dumbledore in the past had been partial to choose his passwords within the category of sweets, both Wizard and Muggle. Could he have changed his topic for some reason? Perhaps to keep nosy students like him from entering his office uninvited, Harry wondered sheepishly. A smart move, really and Harry couldn't exactly blame him if he had though it made the task of getting in there considerably more difficult...

Oh well, Harry thought with a sigh. What to do now? Quickly he listed his options. He could either give up for the evening (an alternative he wasn't too keen on), keep on guessing for the password (could take forever and then some), start screaming for Dumbledore in hope of him opening the entrance or simply sit down and wait hoping Dumbledore would turn up.

As neither the prospect of going through Honeyduke's entire inventory list or attracting Filch's attention by bellowing in the corridor was particularly appealing to him, Harry decided to wait. It wasn't as if he was especially eager to go back to Gryffindor and try to coax the quarrelling duo into a peace treaty of sorts. No, that could definitely wait. Better let them cool down a bit first, he decided.

Harry cast a spell to cushion the floor and sat down with his back against the wall. The minutes seemed to drag on forever. After a mere twenty minutes Harry was more than a little bored with the waiting. There was precious little to do around this corridor to pass time and eventually he began counting start to keep himself occupied. He had quite a nice view from where he was sitting. "Mars is especially bright tonight," he muttered thinking back to his meeting with the centaurs in the Forbidden forest and for some unexplainable reason this evoked an urge to try yet another password.

"Mars Bar," said Harry with a half grin, silently laughing about this crazy whim. Harry almost screamed out in fright when the gargoyle suddenly sprang to life and revealed the entrance to the stairs.

"Mars Bar?" he said amazed. "I was only joking..."

Quickly he hurried through the gap in the walls, and stepped onto the foot of the spiral stone staircase, which moved slowly upwards as the doors closed behind him, taking him up to the polished oak door with a brass door-knocker. Harry paused for a moment taking a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and prepare for a heated argument to persuade the Headmaster to give him some straight answers to his many queries. He hesitated for a brief moment before he raised his right arm and knocked on the door.

"Come in Harry, I've been expecting you."

The calm voice from the other side of the door belonged unmistakeably to Professor Dumbledore. Could he see through doors, Harry wondered. How did he know who it was? Harry grabbed the doorknob, pushed the large door open and stepped into Dumbledore's office.

The headmaster was seated behind his desk and looked up from the parchment he was reading as Harry appeared in the doorway. He didn't seem the least bit surprised to see him as he beckoned him to take a seat in the opposing chair.

"Have a seat, dear boy," he said evenly and Harry did as he was asked. He glanced over to see Fawkes the phoenix sitting on his perch in the corner looking as magnificent as he remembered. He gave the bird a grateful smile, remembering all too well how he'd come to his rescue in the Chamber of Secrets in his second year.

"Tea?"

"Huh?" Harry answered unintelligently and snapped his attention back to Dumbledore.

"I was wondering whether you would like some tea to go with all your questions," the Headmaster inquired softly and gave Harry a little wink. Taken aback by the professor's correct guess about the purpose of his visit, Harry was left mouthing soundlessly. Dumbledore however seemed perfectly unfazed by his visitor's muteness and lack of response because he brandished his wand and expertly conjured up a large pot of tea along with some rather tasty looking brownies.

"How did you know it was me who knocked on the door?"

Though his initial plan had been to plunge straight into his vast pool of questions without any dillydallying, Harry found he couldn't help but ask. The old man simply smiled as he stroked his long beard tucking some stray hairs back into his belt.

"Elementary, my dear Mr. Potter. I head you searching for the right password. I have a very useful little Listening Charm installed at the entrance."

He chuckled merrily and bit into a brownie. "It activates on sound over a certain level, you see. Though my intention was to simply be able to identify the people requesting to see me, I also pick up fragments of conversations not meant for my ears from time to time. Quite a few students pass this charm each day and I find it refreshingly amusing listening in on private chats."

Harry arched an eyebrow in pure shock from the headmaster's frank confession. No wonder he always seems to know so much about what's going on around the school! Fred and George would be proud if the knew!

Dumbledore trained a blue eye at Harry, looking suddenly sombre. "A somewhat illegal Listening Spell aside, I do have to admit I never thought you would guess the password so quickly." Dumbledore let out a small chortle and Harry couldn't help put raise another eyebrow.

"Well, it seems that not even Muggle sweet passwords are a hindrance to you. You really are a remarkable boy." Harry had the good sense to blush modestly at his headmaster's praise.

Dumbledore smiled cagily and nipped at his tea. Harry shifted uncomfortable in his chair, not sure where to start or what to say next. How exactly did one go about starting an inquiry with a respected and powerful wizard such as Dumbledore without offending him greatly? Dumbledore made it easy for him however with his next statement.

"I know you feel as though I am keeping much from you, and right you are in that assumption. I understand that this is of much confusion and frustration to you, and I presume that you wish for me to elaborate on some of these topics." He paused and met Harry's eyes. Harry could little do except but nod, feeling hugely relieved. This seemed to be going rather well. Why on earth had he bothered worrying about this confrontation?

Dumbledore's next words however effectively burst Harry's little happy bubble.

"I am afraid that my answers may disappoint you to some extent also this evening. I believe I once told you that all will be revealed in due time, and I stick by that although I fear this is not what you want to hear."

Harry instantly felt the irritation and annoyance from the day before building up again. Dumbledore was dodging his questions - again. Un-fucking-believable! Four years worth of pent up irritation finally burst to the surface and before he had the chance to think things properly through, Harry started bellowing furiously at his headmaster.

"I am fifteen years old," he started in a high-pitched shaky voice and Dumbledore visibly flinched in his seat at the sheer volume of Harry's outburst.

"I have faced Voldemort on numerous occasions, I've pulled strange swords out of a ragged hat, rescued both my Godfather and Ginny Weasley from certain death, and last but not least I am the only one who have ever been struck by the Avada Kedavra curse and lived to tell the tale. And still you refuse to tell me why I can do this!"

Harry was fuming. Never mind the fact that he most likely would be kicked out of school for screaming at his Headmaster, this was something that had to be said, or screamed to be exact. And at this point Harry didn't really care about the consequences. At least Snape would be pleased to see him packed and shipped off back to the Muggles he thought fleetingly as he bored the old headmaster with his iciest glare. He wasn't asking much really. All he wanted was to know why. Why him?

Dumbledore didn't respond. He just sat silently looking as calm and unfazed as ever and somehow this display of indifference only managed to aggravate Harry further. Didn't he care at all? What kind of callous person was he?

"And to add to my frustration," Harry continued heatedly, "I yesterday discover that the crazy old lady down the street from my aunt and uncle actually is a witch. This is a person I've known my entire life. Or so I thought. Turns out I didn't know her at all. How I hated her cabbage stinking house with her countless number of cats. And to think about all the things I could have learned from her. How much better my life could have been while living in Privet Drive if I'd only known her true identity. It makes me sick!"

Harry was now screaming, his entire body shaking with rage. He was about to embark on another yelling session when there was a sudden knock on the door. Dumbledore quickly jumped to his feet (Harry's rage didn't seem to have put any damper on his spirits) and crossed the room to open it.

"Ah there you are my dear Arabella," he exclaimed at the person on the other side of the door. "Please do come in and take a seat. I believe young Mr. Potter here might have some questions for you."

Harry whipped his head around to see Professor Figg walk into the office. He snorted loudly to signal that he by no means found her company welcome at this point.

She however came over and sat down next to him in a recently conjured chair and Dumbledore resumed his position behind his desk. She cleared her throat as to let him know she was about to speak but Harry refused to even look at her. Instead he crossed his arms defiantly and demonstratively fixed his stare at a point high above Dumbledore's head.

"You have a cobweb up there," he commented offhandedly in an attempt to ignore the latest guests and the uncooperative headmaster. "Better alert the house elves immediately, can't have the esteemed Dumbledore's office looking blemished and tarnished could we?"

"Thank you ever so much for your observation," Dumbledore said evenly. "I'll alert Dobby later, but now I believe Arabella have something to say to you."

"Hello, Harry," she started smiling tentatively. "It's nice to see you again. I haven't really seen you since before you started Hogwarts and from what I've heard from the Headmaster here, you have done quite well for yourself."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked angrily still trying to appear absorbed in his scrutiny of the before mentioned cobweb. "I was so miserable living with the Dursley's and you knew that. You never told me anything. About what I was, about the world I belonged to and what I could do." His voice cracked and he could feel tears bottling up in his eyes. "In a way you're no better than my aunt and uncle..."

"Oh my dear boy," Professor Figg whispered softly and laid a comforting arm on his shoulder. "I knew you probably would feel this way. You feel as though we have deceived you, don't you?"

"You could say that, yes," Harry spat venomously. Professor Figg sighed and leaned back heavily in her chair.

"Both Albus and I knew you might react in this manner when discovering the truth about your magical abilities, but we felt we didn't have any other option at the time. You needed to be kept safe and the safest place seemed to be in the Muggle world. We first thought to have you living with me, but soon concluded that this would probably be unwise. You see, Harry you were famous from the second that death curse failed and rebounded onto the Dark Lord leaving him reduced to less than spirit. The whole wizarding world was toasting you, praising your name, and holding you up as their savoir. And so you were. But fame can do strange things to people and we knew that the Dark Lord somehow later in life would try to resume his power. When that time would come we would need you again. And we would need you to be as pure in your intentions as the day your parents died. Many great wizards have been corrupted by fame before, and dealing with that while growing up was more than we were willing to expose you to."

She had now moved her chair so that she was facing Harry directly. "If I am not mistaken you still feel uncomfortable dealing with your hero status, don't you?" Reluctantly Harry nodded. He truly hated all the attention and hoopla.

"Imagine having to face that every day while growing up." He shuddered to think about it, knowing that he would have loathed it.

"That is why we thought it best to shield your from that until you were to attend school. We never knew the Dursley's didn't tell you about your abilities. Had I known I would have acted differently, and for that I apologize." She gave him a warm smile, and Harry found that the lady in front of him was acting completely different from the Mrs. Figg he remembered. To his surprise he found that all his anger and resentment had disappeared.

"I think I like you better as a witch than a Muggle," he said carefully returning her smile. She let out a small laugh and patted his hand. "Glad to hear it, Harry."

"But why did Professor Figg live right next to me all those years? " Harry was looking expectantly at Dumbledore. "I mean, Voldemort was gone and everything. It wasn't as though I needed any protection at the time."

Dumbledore refilled his teacup, added two lumps of sugar and took his time to stir it meticulously before answering.

"Arabella here is an Auror, and was assigned to you as your protector the minute we heard of the tragic events at Godric's Hollow fourteen years ago. She has put on and maintained some of the most complex protective wards on your neighbourhood, preventing unwanted guests to track down your whereabouts. This means that no wizards can apparate or disapparate in a wide proximity of Privet Drive. There are also wards that detect Dark magic and immediately alert Arabella of the danger. In the ten years you have lived with your relatives, there has been sixteen attempts on your life if I am not mistaken."

Arabella nodded affirmatively and Harry found he was absolutely speechless.

"Who?" asked Harry astonished. "Who wanted to kill me?"

"Mostly Death Eaters, but also some reporters and journalists have tried to gain access to you over the years. My wards also pick up such immoral intentions, you see. You really are Mr. Popular, Harry. No doubt about that." Professor Figg gave him sympathetic look.

"These excellent wards and protection systems are also the reason I always insist on you going back to your relatives every summer," Dumbledore cut in. "I do know you despise living in that household and having heard some of Arabella's tales I must say I really don't blame you. But please do try to understand that your safety had to be our number one priority, your happiness the second."

"Thank you," Harry said looking squarely at his Headmaster.

"Whatever for, dear boy?"

"For giving me a straight answer for once." Harry replied dryly. "This makes a pleasant change."

To Harry's relief Dumbledore laughed heartily. "Yes, I would imagine you thought so. But for the rest of the questions I am sure you have lined up eagerly wanting to ask me, I have to disappoint you at this time." Harry groaned in obvious frustration.

Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"But please believe me, Harry this is not enclosed from you because I don't find you mature enough to handle it. Your actions the past years have clearly shown that you are in fact the wizard we all hoped you would turn out to be, and then some."

Dumbledore's eyes never left Harry's as he spoke. "I ask you to be patient. The time when all will be explained draws closer by the minute and I suspect it will be revealed in good time before you leave school."

Wearily Harry didn't see how he had any choice in the matter. He couldn't really see himself holding the old man at wandpoint and force the truth out of him. No other means of persuasion came to mind either, at least none that didn't involve breaking at least a zillion wizarding laws. That surely would lead to nothing expect Harry's expulsion from Hogwarts, a consequence he'd rather avoid, if truth be told.

Knowing that the battle was lost for now, Harry rose from his chair and nodded concordantly to signal that he would accept this for the time being. Dumbledore smiled benignly returning his nod. Knowing that there was little more to gain by overstaying his welcome, Harry nodded courteously to Professor Figg and headed for the door. He'd hardly taken two steps when Dumbledore called him back.

"I see you are preparing to head back to your House, but assuming you have no other pressing engagements I would deeply appreciate if you stayed on for a bit longer, Harry," Dumbledore requested. "We are expecting company any minute now and I would be grateful if you would honour us with your presence."

"Why? What's going on?" Harry's curiosity was immediately awakened.

"If you would be so kind as to follow Professor Figg into the Grand Conference Room, I will join you again in a couple of minutes. The answers to your questions will be given momentarily."

Gesturing for him to follow her, Professor Figg led Harry over to a magnificent-looking door that suddenly appeared just behind Dumbledore's desk. Harry had been in this office many times but this he couldn't remember. "Probably a strong Student Repelling Charm," he thought in awe as Professor Figg led him into a large circular room, draped in long luxurious gold tapestries. The only pieces of furniture in the room were a large mahogany table surrounded by sixteen chairs all with deep red velvet covers. Professor Figg told him to sit down, and they sat there for a few minutes waiting in silence. Eventually a distant murmur of voices broke the silence, informing them that the guests had arrived and was heading their way.

Giddy with anticipation Harry stared at the door, wondering who these guests could be. He didn't have to wait long before the golden handle turned and the door opened softly. Dumbledore strode into the room followed closely by a man Harry had never seen before. Judging by his pointy chin and sour-looking face he wasn't the cheeriest of blokes. But when the next visitors emerged from the doorway Harry's mouth dropped open in shock and delight. Because right behind the stranger followed Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, Professor Lupin, Hagrid, Madam Maxime, Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall and ... Harry's heart skipped a beat.

Sirius!

Quickly he leapt to his feet and rushed over to greet his Godfather. In a very Un-Harry like fashion he threw his arms around the fugitive giving him a long awaited hug. Sirius immediately responded to the hug and for the first time since the Triwizard Tournament Harry felt truly safe and happy.

"I'm so glad to see you again," he mumbled into Sirius' chest. "I've missed you."

"Oh I've missed you too, Harry," Sirius replied lovingly and stroking Harry's unruly hair.

A pointed cough from Snape's end of the room however made them suddenly aware of their very public show of affection and quickly they pulled apart. Harry blushed embarrassedly and stared down at his feet. To think that Snape had seen this! He had a very nasty feeling that this somehow would come back to haunt him later in life.

"You sure have grown a lot since last time I saw you," his godfather praised in a low voice as they settled down in chairs just opposite of the Weasleys. "You look more like your father every day." Sirius was positively beaming and Harry felt a second blush coming on. "I'm very proud of you, I hope you know that," Sirius whispered. Harry smiled at his Godfather and nodded happily.

"Yes, I know that. But thank you for telling me anyway."

Harry desperately wanted to sit down and bring Sirius up to speed on everything that had happened since they'd last spoken but unfortunately there was no time for that. The next moment Dumbledore signalled for everyone to take their seat around the table and Harry assumed that was his cue to leave. Giving Sirius a last smile, urging him to write more often he prepared to head back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Mr. Potter?"

Dumbledore's voice made Harry stop halfway through the door. He turned and saw all eyes on him.

"We had hoped you would grace us with your presence today seeing as you are an important part in the fight against the Dark Lord. After all that is the purpose for which we have gathered here this evening."

Harry looked questionably from one to the other around the table, and saw that everyone (with the exception of Snape, naturally) nodded. Intrigued and dazed he sat down again next to Sirius. His godfather squeezed his hand encouragingly and Harry felt his heart beat faster both from the comfort of his touch and the thrill of the moment. Naturally he felt extremely curious about this meeting, but most of all he was deeply honoured. To think that Dumbledore wanted him to participate! He couldn't wait to tell Ron and Hermione about this. If he could just manage to summon them to the same room that was...

"I welcome you, Harry," Dumbledore said with the familiar twinkle behind his half moon spectacles, "as our newest and youngest member of the Order of the Phoenix. This Order has once again been called together with the purpose of joining forces in the fight against the evil that is Voldemort."

The usual gasps of horror followed as Dumbledore spoke the Dark Lord's name. Harry silently scoffed. Honestly, skirting around a meagre word was just plain stupid. Why couldn't grown men and women get over this ridiculous fear?

"The Ministry of Magic has chosen to ignore the truth and is thus currently failing its sworn duty to uphold the safety of our community. They, with Minister Cornelius Fugde in charge, refuse to acknowledge the fact that our enemy now has resumed his bodily form and are yet again gaining power. You, Harry was there to witness his resurrection. You have personally seen him unmercifully order his servant to kill a fellow student. Voldemort (more gasps) has over the years tried to kill you on numerous occasions, either personally or with the aid of his loyal followers. You have faced him and proven your powers to be equal to his even though you are not yet a fully trained wizard. Your connection to him is of vital importance to our operations. Your knowledge of his strengths and weaknesses will be crucial. We therefore hope you will join our Order, to fight for what is right. To fight for our freedom!"

Harry didn't need any time to consider the offer. There was only one answer he could give, and he immediately nodded his consent. The room instantly broke into applause and cheers (yet again with Snape as the exception). Harry was then introduced to the sour-faced Mr. Diggle, the only wizard in the company he didn't know, and soon the meeting was in session.

The meeting turned out to be confusing, riveting and down right shocking!

Harry soon learned in detail about Professor Lupin and Sirius's operations to recruited double agents to infiltrate the inner circle of Death Eaters. Unsurprisingly it had proved difficult finding and persuading suitable candidates at first. Voldemort was, as Sirius sarcastically pointed out, no fool and sending in some Ravenclaw or Gryffindor who would suddenly claim eagerness to do his bidding without ever having shown any signs of anti-Muggle views, would only be a tad too suspicious. Bravery and brains are not everything in these operations, as Lupin commented dryly. Credibility was a much safer card to play, that way the agents wouldn't be trailed too closely by fellow Death Eaters.

Obviously it had been extremely difficult finding fitting wizards willing to take on this mission, but Sirius and Lupin could proudly inform the Order that two people were now successfully located within the Dark Lord's ranks. Harry nearly fell of his chair in pure shock when their identities were revealed. Never in a million years would he have thought that Marcus Flint would join forces with the likes of Dumbledore and Gryffindors such as himself!

But according to Lupin Flint and another wizard named Gary Stubbins, had agreed to the mission. Harry vividly remembered Flint as an unmerciful and not particularly handsome (understatement of the century) Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team during his first years at Hogwarts. It was very hard picturing him as a trustworthy ally working for a pro-Muggleborn organisation such as this. Especially when it seemed like only yesterday Malfoy had called Hermione a Mudblood out on the Quidditch pitch in their second year, to Flint and the rest of the Slytherin team's great amusement and Ron's even greater outrage...

"But how can we be sure they're not double-crossing us?" Harry asked his godfather. "What if they really are Death Eaters and are only using this as means to get information from us to pass on to Voldemort."

"My thoughts exactly," chimed in Mr. Diggle from across the table. He was wearing a huge frown that did nothing to tone down his sour features, tapping his fingers impatiently on the tabletop as he spoke. "What proof do we have that they're loyal to us and us alone?"

Sirius was smiling broadly looking ever so smug. "Slipped them both a few drops of Veritaserum in their Butterbeer during our first meeting," he informed the Order looking more like a schoolboy having just performed a successful prank than the grown-up resistance member he now was.

"Couldn't help but be truthful then, could they?"

Beside him Lupin appeared to be hiding a guffaw. "Told us a bit more than we needed to know, really, but at least now we know for certain that they mean business."

"Pardon me, but I'm not sure we should take the word of an escaped convict and a ragged Werewolf as absolute truths here," Mr. Diggle spat venomously making Harry wonder if he by any chance was a blood relative of Snape's. "I for one demand that you share with us the reasons why you were so easily convinced of their sincerity."

"Now now, Orson," Dumbledore intervened calmly. "I see we have some reluctance among some of our members to blindly accept the cooperation of a former Slytherin, but surely there is no need to insult esteemed members of this Order regardless of their past or disadvantages for that reason. But to ease your troubled mind, I'm sure Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin happily will oblige your request for proof."

Dumblefore looked pointedly at Sirius and sharing a look with Lupin he nodded affirmatively.

"We're basically betraying our confidentiality here, so Diggle better be content with what we're about to share," Sirius replied tartly and shot Mr. Diggle a venomous look. No love lost there, Harry thought wearily briefly wondering where this evident loathing came from.

"Flint and Stubin are lovers," Sirius said brusquely. "Flint is from a long line of Pureblood wizards and witches while Stubbins as some of you might recall is a former Hufflepuff and very much a Half-blood."

Shocked murmurs immediately broke loose and not before Dumbledore clapped his hands loudly did it abate so that Sirius could continue.

"I gather you see why we can trust them," he said tersely, again with a pointed look at Mr. Diggle. "Not only are homosexuality generally frowned upon among Slytherins, but a relationship with a Muggleborn or Half-blood is considered sheer suicide. Flint and Stubbins do not wish to part ways and see a fight against this prejudice the only solution. Flint has in the past openly supported the Dark Lord and is therefore ideal for this mission. Stubbins on the other hand do not have the same advantage but as he and Flint now pose as good mates, he now tells the heartfelt story of how Flint has made him see how wrong it is for Muggles and wizards to interbreed. Add to this the fact that his mother left after finding out that she'd married a Wizard and you'll easily see how Voldemort can't possibly refuse this kid."

It was perfect, Harry knew. Voldemort, or Tom Marvolo Riddle as was his given name, was a Half-blood himself and would therefore easily relate to Stubbins' story. But still there was yet another thing bothering Harry.

"Excuse me, but there's one thing I don't get." Harry tensed as he noticed everyone staring at him. Hope I don't look like a fool asking this, he thought worriedly. That would be a really embarrassing way to start his membership of this order. Fighting back the nervousness he felt coming on, he decided to just plunge right out with it.

"You tested Flint and Stubbins' honesty by slipping them truth serum. What is there to stop Voldemort or Death Eaters from doing the same?"

"Oh, I'm so glad you asked that, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said with a shy smile. "I was wondering the same myself actually."

"Ay, same here, 'Arry," Hagrid boomed making his entire beard bounce uncontrollably. "Smart lad, that one," he said proudly to Madam Maxime and Harry reddened when she blew him a kiss.

"I believe I can explain Mr. Potter's inquiry," a bored and drawling voice informed them. Snape spoke for the first time that evening and Harry turned his attention to his absent Potions Master. Oh my, you haven't had a good summer have you, he thought sadly. Snape was looking as sourly as ever, sitting at the far end of the table with his robes pulled close around him as if he was freezing.

"As Mr. Potter should know, given that he'd paid any attention in class, is that there is an antidote to Veritaserum. For this to take effect it must be administered within the first five minutes after the Veritaserum has been taken. Naturally it would be impossible for any spy to administer such an antidote while under interrogation. I have therefore taken it upon myself to "perfect" it."

He said this with an air of great smugness. Beside him Harry heard Sirius mutter under his breath.

"The new and improved antidote can be taken before Veritaserum is administered and has a long term effect, meaning that it only has to be replenished once every three months. Given that these spies are well schooled in the art of lying, being given Veritaserum shouldn't be any problem."

"Now that this has been cleared up," Dumbledore interrupted calmly, "I suggest we move on to the next item on our agenda."

The remainder of the meeting went smoothly without much shilly-shallying. Hagrid and Madam Maxime recounted the successful contact they'd made with several tribes of giants. They were currently negotiating the terms of the agreement they hoped would result in their unconditional support in the fight against the Dark Lord.

But what shocked Harry the most was to learn about Professor Snape's role in the resistance. He knew Snape used to be a Death Eater. Harry had seen the Dark Mark on his arm the pervious year, but he also knew that Dumbledore trusted him wholeheartedly and although Harry was slightly peeved with his mentor for not shedding particularly much light on the questions he craved answered, he knew better than to undermine his judgement of character. If Dumbledore said Snape was trustworthy then who was he to argue?

Snape's part in the Order was by far the most daring and risky and Harry felt some of his hostility towards the former Potions Master fade as he delivered his report. Unable as he was to return to Voldemort as spy (clearly Voldemort wouldn't have trusted him having turned on him once before), Snape had been asked to put his in-depth knowledge of Death Eaters and Dark Arts to good use by hunting down DE defectors and researching areas of Dark Arts that Voldemort was believed to be particularly interested in, immortality being on top of the list.

"I've tracked down Igor Karkaroff," Snape informed the forum wearily. "He was hiding out in a Muggle city in Italy. It wasn't difficult finding him seeing as Igor has never been particularly gifted with disguises. He has ignored all callings from his former master and had therefore little information of use to us." Snape snorted contemptuously. "Karkaroff has never struck me as brilliant in any way, but at least I've persuaded him to help me in my research. His knowledge of the Durmstrang archives and secret entrances to the academy are of great help."

The conference room was dead silent. Harry looked at the loathed Potions Master with newfound respect. Snape might act as he had a hippogriff up his arse but he was still basically your average good guy with a somewhat spotted past. Better keep that in mind when he's back behind the teacher's chair spreading gloom and discomfort Harry thought dryly. For someone going to such great extents doing the right thing, Snape sure manage to come off as a complete bugger.

* * *

When the meeting eventually came to and end, Sirius dawdled behind clearly hoping for a few words with his godson. With a wink and a wave Dumbledore tactfully left his office for a few minutes giving him and Harry some long wanted privacy.

It was wonderful just sitting there talking. Harry told him all about his summer at the Weasley's and the kidnapping of Ron and Sirius was deeply disturbed to learn about Death Eaters being so near the Burrow.

"Promise me you'll be extra careful this year, Harry," Sirius said looking at his godson with unconcealed concern.

"No sneaking around the secret passages into Hogsmeade or wandering the grounds after dark. If I catch wind of you deliberately risking your neck I will hunt you down and give you a good spanking!"

Harry snickered but quickly stopped when he saw that Sirius wasn't joking. Harry put up his most innocent facial expression, promising to do his best.

"Your best, as you put it, simply isn't good enough I'm afraid." Sirius let out a small sigh. "I know you. You're just like your father. Too curious for your own good and with a particular urge to investigate anything that looks even remotely suspicious."

Sirius smiled as Harry dodged his stare knowing that his Godfather had hit bull's eye with his description. However Sirius turned out to be as persistent as Ron and didn't budge until Harry had given him his sworn word.

Dumbledore re-entered shortly after and Sirius gathered his things and prepared to leave. Heading for the door he suddenly stopped and turned with a curious gleam in his eyes. "There was one thing you didn't tell me before. How come you ended up spending most of your summer at The Burrow? I was under the impression that you were only to stay there the last two weeks before the start of term."

This reminded Harry that he hadn't told either of them about the prediction made by Olga Krum. Maybe they can shed some light on this, he thought hopefully. Their own search had so far turned up empty handed and so he decided to tell them the whole story.

Sirius raised his eyebrows when he heard about Hermione's rescue/kidnapping and Harry was certain his Godfather turned around to hide a snicker as he recaptured the events in Privet Drive. When he retold the predictions made by Krum's grandmother, Dumbledore and Sirius glanced at each other, and Dumbledore nodded in recognition.

"Do you know what this means?" Harry was looking at the Headmaster.

"Ah yes, Harry," he answered and poured himself another cup of tea (his sixth that evening, doesn't he ever need to relieve himself, Harry mused?).

"Olga Krum is widely known for her precise and accurate predictions. Many witch and wizard travel great lengths to have her predict their future. Even some of the more prominent Muggle leaders of this world value her opinion, or so I'm told. The one given to Ms. Granger should therefore not be taken lightly."

"But do you know what this Strinx that she refers to is? I've never heard about this and so far Hermione's search through the library has left us no wiser than before she started." Harry was pacing between the two men, excited and anxious to find out all he could about the meaning of the strange prediction.

Dumbledore sighed and sat down behind his desk again. He placed his cup of tea on the desk with a loud bang, startling the woman in the portrait behind him. "I am familiar with the prophecy that mentions the Strinx, but at this time I am unwilling to tell you much about it. I firmly believe that this is something you will have to discover for yourself. Prophecies are funny that way. If the party involved becomes aware of the meaning of the foretelling, the events often have a funny way of turning out differently than what is intended."

"But," Harry ventured, "Isn't that a good thing? This prophecy doesn't exactly promise sunshine and happiness for the wizarding world, does it? If this "destiny" could be altered by enlightening the involved parties, wouldn't that be worth a try?"

"Not necessarily," Dumbledore answered soberly. "Why would you automatically assume the alternative is more attractive?"

Harry snorted. "I don't see how it can be much worse than what's predicted. If we're promised dark times ahead, wouldn't a better option be a chance at light times?"

"Surely yes, but alas it seldom or never works that way. Many a wizard and witch have tried to tamper with destiny, and seldom with happy result. Are you willing to risk the faith of our world to ease your own impending trials and suffering?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry with those blue soulful eyes and Harry immediately knew it was useless discussing the matter further. Dumbledore might be an annoying old coot but he was wiser than anyone Harry had ever met. If he thought it was a bad idea meddling with what was meant to be, who was he to argue?

Harry finally stopped his pacing and Dumbledore met his eyes once again.

"I will however," the old man continued, "Tell you this: The Strinx is not a thing. It is not a powerful sword or a magical object of any sort. The Strinx is a person with rare abilities with whom you will share a special bond. I do not know how this bond will show itself or how you will find this person. But when the time comes I am sure you will feel it."

Harry felt if possible even more confused by Dumbledore's words, and he looked questionably from the Headmaster to his Godfather. Sirius just shook his head. "I'm sorry Harry I don't know any more than what Dumbledore has told you about this." He shrugged and patted Harry's shoulder comfortingly. "I suppose all you can do is to keep your eyes open, and this will probably come to you eventually."

And with that Dumbledore signalled to Sirius that it was time for him to depart, and so they said their goodbyes promising to owl each other regularly.

*

Before Harry left Dumbledore's office the Headmaster had specifically requested that he'd keep the existence of the Order a total secret. Harry was immediately immensely disappointed to hear that he couldn't tell Ron and Hermione about it, but before he could voice his objection, Dumbledore quickly added that Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger were to be the only exceptions to this rule.

Harry was deeply grateful that Dumbledore knew how important it was for him to share this with his friends. It really wouldn't be the same if they couldn't be a part of it. Even thought they wouldn't participate in the meetings, they would still be his most valued advisers and supporters.

If only they are back on speaking terms, he thought, suddenly remembering the scene that had taken place right before he left the Common room. Harry never thought he would end up wishing for two people to kiss as badly as he did right now. And the fact that he himself was not one of the two was rather depressing.

"What am I going to do about those two?" Harry muttered as he stopped in front of the Fat Lady.

"Are you talking to me, Bunny man?" the Fat Lady chirped gleefully smiling evilly at him. To Harry's despair she still hadn't stopped teasing him about the bunny-boxers she'd caught a glimpse off the previous year.

"Filthy Pigsnout," Harry muttered tersely trying to ignore her comment.

"I was only teasing you a little, no need to get cheeky young man," she answered sounding offended.

"That is the password," Harry said resigned. "I was not trying to insult you."

"Oh right, sorry about that." The Fat Lady blushed in embarrassment, and promptly swung open. Harry climbed through the hole prepared to summon the two opponents to force them into reconciliation. Scanning the room he soon spotted them. Gaping openly he immediately stopped dead in his tracks.

"What the hell happened here?"