Harry Potter and the Watcher's Council

"Sorry, but I'm an old-fashioned gal. I was raised to believe that men dig up the corpses and the women have the babies." -Buffy, "Some Assembly Required"

The three friends spent the next week basking in each other's company and attempting to forget the fact that awful things were happening in the outside world. Despite the constant reminders they had in the way of members of the Order Apparating to the Burrow at all hours and Mrs. Weasley seeming to be in a constant state of worry whenever her husband left the house, they did a fairly good job of it. Hermione had brought several books with her, and spent much of her time pouring over the texts while the boys played game after game of wizard chess or exploding snap. Harry found himself constantly amazed at her dedication. They hadn't yet received their O.W.L. results and already she was studying for her possible N.E.W.T. level classes.

"They're bound to be much more difficult," she lectured them one rainy evening as they all sat in the parlor, trying to relax. None of them were succeeding very well. Mr. Weasley had been called in on an emergency for the Order, and everyone was concentrating hard on Mrs. Weasley's clock, which proclaimed that the subject in question was "at work." Ginny sat before the fire, attempting to mend her school robes the old fashioned way, with needle and thread while Mrs. Weasley clattered around in the kitchen making supper, obviously in an advanced state of agitation. Harry and Ron were engaged in an epically long game of wizard's chess; normally Ron would have crushed Harry after over an hour of play, but Ron's concentration had faltered so badly out of nervousness that Harry was actually putting up a decent defense.

It was Ron's move, and Harry couldn't help but think his friend was taking rather longer to decide than he normally did. Bored, Harry leaned over and peeked at the title of Hermione's book. It was Bill's old copy of Advanced Tranfiguration. Wrinking his nose at the title, Harry snatched the book from her lap and glanced over the text. "When transfiguring the inanimate into mammels, one must always be aware of the ways in which the circulatory system..." Harry stopped reading abruptly and shut the book. "Hermione," he complained, "this is ridiculous. Its vacation. If you're going to read, at least read something fun. No more studying! I've got Quidditch through the Ages in my trunk," he offered.

Hermione glared at him for suggesting Quidditch, but her face quickly broke into a grin. "Oh, all right. I'll stop studying. I don't suppose it'll do any good, without knowing which subjects I'll be in anyway. But while we're at it, there's something we need to discuss." She looked hard at the other three, her mouth thinning into a determined line.

Ginny colored and started to stand. "Fine, fine. I can see you want me gone," she huffed, throwing down her robes which, if anything, looked slightly worse off for her having tried to mend them.

Hermione shook her head. "No, Ginny. I think we all agree that after the Department of Mysteries, well, there's nothing we need to hide from each other."

Ron flushed, and seemed about to speak, but kept quiet at a look from Hermione. Harry could tell his friend wanted Ginny gone. She was his younger sister, and Harry knew Ron felt protective of her, despite the amount of teasing he heaped on her. Harry couldn't look Hermione in the eye. He was hiding something from her, and he felt guilty about it, but his friends would only be in danger if they knew about the prophecy. Harry knowing was one thing--Voldemort already had it in for him. But the others were safer not knowing, no matter how relieved he would feel to tell them.

Harry cleared his throat. "What's going on, then?" he said, trying to ease the tension a bit. "New plans for recruiting more members to spew?"

Ron cracked a smile, but Hermione remained resolutely straight faced. "House Elf abuse is a serious issue, Harry, one you shouldn't take so lightly. And it's S-P-E-W! But no, I want to talk about the D.A."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. What did she mean by that? The D.A. seemed to Harry as if it had happened in another life, a bunch of kids trying to be rebels and learn to defend themselves against Voldemort. Harry felt nauseous at the thought. Having seen the duel between Voldemort and Dumbledore in June, he felt sure he knew which of them would survive when the time came for him to face his fate. His resolve hardened as he pushed away the thoughts. Sirius had died to save him, and there was no way Harry was going to waste that sacrifice, even if was his own fault Sirius had had to make it. Voldemort had driven him to it, and he would pay for that, even if all that meant was Harry getting in his way and slowing him down a bit. Both Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange would pay for what they had taken from him, taken from Sirius. At the thought of the woman who had killed Sirius, an overwhelming sense of hatred and anger rushed over him. The feelings scared him--never before had he felt such an intense desire to hurt someone--but he also reveled in them, knowing that they would give him the strength he needed to revenge Sirius.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I think we should continue it. Not as a secret society anymore, of course. Dumbledore will let usgather officially I'm sure. Last June made it obvious," her voice wavered a bit, and Harry had the distinct impression that she was having a hard go of it trying to hold herself together, "that we're not ready yet. Not to face Death Eaters, and certainly not to face Voldemort."

Ron broke in, indignant, "You make it sound as if we failed miserably, Hermione! If it hadn't been for us going, Malfoy and all his Death Eater pals would still be on the loose. Who knows how many muggleborns they'd have attacked by now!"

Harry shook his head, but before he could speak, Ginny piped in. "That wasn't us Ron. That was the Order, and Dumbledore. We were lucky to get out of there alive." She sounded grim, as if realizing only at that moment how close they had all come to snuffing it at the Ministry.

"My point is, we need to do more. We need to keep practicing, keep learning. Even if we have a great Defense professor next year," she smirked slightly, "and let's face it, the possibilities of that are about as good as Harry's aunt inviting us all for tea, we'll still need to know more, to practice more. We're not ordinary students anymore, we can't afford to learn only the things Hogwarts can teach us. We're in the middle of a war, and we have to be able to defend ourselves in it."

Harry found himself nodding--her words were what he had been thinking of only moments before. "I hate to sound like a hypocrite, as I've just finished telling Hermione off for studying," he said finally, "but this is going to mean a lot of research. We'll need to find spells, any spells, that can help us. Protection charms, potions, anything that could possibly be used against the Death Eaters." He sent a fleeting smile toward Ginny, who was looking at him with a strange glint in her eyes. "Maybe you'll reconsider wanting to join in our schemes, now you know it'll involve work."

"Its not that," Ginny muttered, shaking her head so that a few strands of her fiery hair escaped from the clip holding the rest back. "I'm just glad to be able to do something to help, even if it does seem more like a detention from McGonagall than an adventure."

They began that night directly after supper. Hermione and Ginny lugged all their school books to Ron's room, in addition to Hermione's extensive collection of everything from Beginner's Alchemy to Most Potente Potions, a volume which, Hermione told the other three proudly, she had tricked her mother, who was a muggle, into buying for her despite its dangerous contents. "Mum had no idea," she said in satisfaction, blithely ignoring the looks of awe and shock on her friends' faces. "Its a really rare volume, and the moment I saw it in the display at Flourish and Blott's, I knew I had to have it."

"Blimey, Hermione! That's got illegal potions in it, that has. If you got caught brewing any of them..." Ron trailed off, shaking his head.

"Oh don't be such a prat, Ron, of course I won't use it to make anything illegal. I'm not about to go getting myself thrown into Azkaban or," she shuddered slightly, "expelled. But a lot of these potions are quite useful, and there's no way Snape would introduce any of them before seventh year."

"I reckon you've gone mad," Ron told her, clearly impressed. "What happened to the Hermione I know? You know, the one that would die before breaking a school rule?"

Hermione grinned mischeviously. "She's gone on holiday for the time being. Went terribly mad with stress during Spring term and tried to invade the Ministry. I do hope the poor thing recovers soon."

Harry sprawled on his camp bed, one of the volumes Sirius and Lupin had given him the Christmas before open on his pillow. Trying to drown out the sound of Ron and Hermione verbal sparring, he concentrated instead on the words before him. Some of the spells the authors recommended were quite useful. They outlined the basic method for a Healing Spell, which would cure small cuts and burns, but nothing major. They'd need something that could cure bigger wounds, maybe even heal bones, if their last encounter with Death Eaters was any indication. He jotted the spell down anyway--it never hurt to know the basics.

What he was really hoping to find, he thought to himself, frowning as he turned the page, was something resembling the spell the Death Eater had used on Hermione in June. He shivered slightly, remembering the shocked look on her face and the deathly stillness of her body as she lay helpless on the floor. The spell was awful, but if the Death Eaters had it, then they needed to have it too, or at least find a way to defend against it.

But how to defend against the worst spell of all--Avada Kedavra? Harry took off his glasses briefly, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. His head ached after what seemed like hours of pouring through books, and suddenly it all seemed so pointless to him. They were up against the Killing Curse, against which there was no defense--how could they possibly hope to win? Lately he'd simply felt too tired to be angry any longer, and he desperately needed the rage that had filled him even during those long sleepless nights on Privet Drive in June, nearly a month after Sirius had died. As he drifted into a restless sleep, his mind focused on the thought he'd had earlier that day; regardless of how hopeless his situation seemed, he had to try, if not to protect his friends, than for Sirius.

Harry awoke with a sudden start, surprised to find that he'd only been asleep for a few hours. His dreams had been strange and confused: one minute he was flying on his Firebolt high above the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts while his old Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood, told him he was the best Seeker he'd ever seen, the next he was being forced to perform in a play as Neville Longbottom in pink robes and a moldy old wig.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of sleep, noticing as he did so that Ginny had fallen asleep on the floor while looking over a book about hexes and how to fight them. Strands of her hair had somehow managed to get into her mouth, and she was drooling all over an illustration of the Hurling Hex, Harry noticed with a grin. Ron and Hermione were still awake, both slumped on Ron's bed as they paged through books, occasionally jotting down a few notes or huffing excitedly at a particular good find.

"Listen to this," Hermione exclaimed excitedly. She had elected to look through the controversial Most Potente Potions, and had apparently been making good progress. Harry didn't know how much potions could help them in a pinch, but if it were a planned attack on the Order's part, or something that could be bottled and used instantly, it could be of use.

"What's that?" Harry questioned groggily, still wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"Oh good, you're awake. Listen to this. It's a sort of resistance potion, lessens the effect of certain spells."

Harry perked up. That did sound like a very useful potion. It wasn't a complete solution to defending against Death Eaters, but Harry didn't really expect to find that. Still, this would help, give them a bit of an edge. "Which spells does it protect against?" he asked.

"Nothing major, not Avada Kedavra of course, no defense against that, but several hexes and jinxes." She grinned at Ron. "It'll protect you against that slug-vomiting hex, in case you ever manage to produce it with working wand."

Ron flushed and turned back to his book, muttering. Harry laughed to himself, remembering the slug incident and the horrified look on Ron's face everytime he'd puked up a slug that day.

"Found anything else useful?" Harry asked.

"A few things that might be helpful. A speed and agility potion, but that will only work if we know we're going into a fight, a draught to protect against snake venoms--I thought that one particularly useful, considering Voldemort's propensity for snakes, and," she flourished her sheet of parchment proudly, "I've found the Chronos Concoction!"

Harry and Ron stared at her blankly, while Ginny sat up yawning, having been awakened by Hermione's excited pronouncement. "What's going on?" she asked sleepily, not even attempting to straighten her hair, which had fallen down haphazardly as she slept.

"What's the Chronos Concoction?" Harry asked.

"It's a potion that, if used correctly, will preserve the drinker in his present state for one hour. The person won't be able to do much, as it has a sort of paralyzing side effect, but if they're injured or something, they won't get any worse."

Harry was impressed with Hermione's thoroughness and knack for finding useful spells. In his fourth year, when he was competing in the Triwizard Tournament, she'd helped him find several useful spells as well. Ron looked excited at the find, and immediately began coming up with more uses for the potion, but Ginny was frowning.

"Hermione, that potion sounds extremely difficult. How are we even going to find all the ingredients?" she asked, reaching for the book and scanning the list. She let out a low whistle. "I've never even heard of half this stuff!"

Hermione huffed and grabbed her book back from the younger girl, but Harry just shrugged. "We'll find whatever we need, and Hermione is brilliant. I'm sure she'll be able to brew this. After the Polyjuice..." he trailed off, belatedly realizing that Ginny might be shocked to know that they had brewed a potion illegally in their second year that had transformed Harry and Ron into Slytherins.

Ginny didn't look shocked, however, she looked impressed. "You made Polyjuice Potion?" she asked, her voice full of awe. "That's advanced magic, that is. Above N.E.W.T. level, even."

Hermione flushed, burying her nose back in her book. "Ron and Harry helped," she said.

"Well, I've found a few things as well," Ginny said. "A handy charm that will ionize the atmosphere in a fifty foot radius, which will allow muggle electrical devices to work in magical places." She lifted her eyebrows at the other's stunned expression. "What, a witch can't know anything about muggle stuff? I'm in Muggle Studies," she explained, "and besides, I figure there's no way the Death Eaters will touch muggle things, much less consider how they could be useful. But I was thinking it would be good to have those head sets that muggle police use to communicate, that way if we got separated like we did in the Department of Mysteries, we'd be able to find each other more easily."

Hermione and Harry were both nodding enthusiastically. Harry immediately began imagining the different muggle devices they could use against the Death Eaters. Infra red goggles, smoke bombs, jet packs... He grinned, remembering all the times he'd hidden on the stairway while his aunt, uncle, and cousin watched Dudley'd favorite James Bond films. Hermione seemed to be thinking along the same lines, but her brow was furrowed. "Spy stuff would be really useful, but it'll be really hard for a bunch of underage kids to find anything like that in England."

Harry frowned. "Well, keep thinking about it, we'll figure something out. Did you find anything else?" he asked Ginny.

"Oh, loads of hexes and curses that might be useful, a few blockers and shielding spells..."

Harry nodded. "Well, we'll keep looking. We've got a long summer ahead of us. What else have we got to do? Well, all right, there's always Quidditch."

The days seemed to fly by as Harry, Ron, and Ginny searched all their books for anything that might be useful. They even snuck a few volumes from Ron's parents' collection to scour for information. Hermione had left after two weeks, telling them earnestly that she wished she could stay and help with the research, but she felt she had to spend more time with her parents before the term began. Harry was sad to see her go, but he knew that if his parents were alive, he'd want to be with them too.

Hermione's absence left a hole in the group that the remaining three tried to ignore by researching even harder and later into the nights. Harry knew the others were thinking the same thing he was--that if anyone's family was in danger, it was Hermione's. Her parents had no way of protecting themselves against Death Eaters, and Harry suspected that she'd left the Burrow so quickly more out of fear for them than a desire to see them. Harry had thought he understood what it meant to be under pressure, but when he thought about Hermione's situation, he realized that her position was far more stressful. His friends could at least protect themselves, and Sirius had been a far more advanced wizard than Harry, whereas Hermione's parents were muggles, completely defenseless against Voldemort's supporters.

The whole situation filled Harry with a whole new kind of anger. It simply wasn't fair that Hermione had to worry like this! It wasn't fair that her parents were in danger simply because she happened to be a witch. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right, and the injustice of it made Harry even more determined to make Voldemort pay for what he'd done to his family and friends.

As August came to a close, Mrs. Weasley decided to take Harry, Ron, and Ginny to Diagon Alley to buy their school things. Their letters from Hogwarts arrived only the day before, much to Ron's dismay. He'd told Harry privately that he was quite sure he'd failed his History of Magic and Astronomy O.W.L.s. He was worried about his mum's reaction. She took schoolwork quite seriously, and simply remembering the diatribe she'd launched at Fred and George upon receiving their O.W.L. results was enough to make Ron feel a bit queasy. They all sat at the scrubbed wooden table in the kitchen, enjoying a rare breakfast with Mr. Weasley, who was usually at work long before the others woke up, when the owl arrived, bearing a letter each for Ron, Harry, and Ginny.

Ginny opened hers right away, making a face at the list of books she'd have to buy for next term. Harry noticed Mrs. Weasley staring at her youngest intently, and he was sure she was wondering if Ginny, like Ron, had been made a prefect. "This lot won't come cheap," she remarked to the table at large, scanning her book list. "But at least I won't have to worry about prefect duties in my O.W.L. year!" she said with a relieved sigh, folding her letter and shoving it haphazardly back into its envelope.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head disconsolately. "Oh, Ginny. I'd really hoped you'd do better than this! Dumbledore must not think you're responsible enough, or dedicated enough... I hope he's not thinking you're too much like Fred and George to be made prefect!" she exclaimed.

Harry flushed at her words, embarrassed for both Ginny and himself. He knew how she must be feeling--after all, he hadn't been made a prefect the year before either, while both Ron and Hermione had. He'd felt bad about it for a while, until he'd discovered that his father hadn't been a prefect either, nor had Sirius.

"You'll have enough on your plate with Quidditch as it is," Harry told her. "We'll have so many new players this year, I'm sure whoever's made captain will work us like mad."

Mr. Weasley frowned at his wife. "Now Molly," he said sternly, "don't go giving Ginny any silly ideas about taking up where the twins left off. She's a good student, nearly top in her class!" he added proudly. "In fact, I think her marks deserve some sort of a treat. What would you say to a new set of robes, eh?"

Ginny flashed a grateful smile at her father. "That would be lovely. My old ones are beyond repair, I think. I tried to mend them but..." she trailed off, shrugging. Harry felt a spurt of guilt go through him. He knew the Weasleys had very little money to pay for things like new robes and school books, while he had a small fortune in a locked vault in Gringotts. He resolved to buy both Ginny and Ron something, maybe for being so loyal to him and insisting upon coming along to the Ministry to rescue Sirius. He supposed he should really buy gifts for Hermione, Luna, and Neville as well. He smiled to himself, thinking it might be fun to find something for Luna, who had eccentric tastes to say the least.

Both Harry and Ron fingered their letters all through breakfast, neither one really wanting to end the suspense of knowing their O.W.L. results. Mrs. Weasley shot them eager, knowing glances throughout the meal, obviously burning to see their O.W.L. results but reluctant to push them. Harry wanted these moments to last, while he could still delude himself into believing he'd passed Potions and would be able to study to be an Auror. They'd all finished breakfast, and Mrs. Weasley was clearing the dishes, when Ginny snatched Ron's envelope from his numb fingers.

"Oh come on!" she said impatiently, breaking the seal and pulling out several sheets of parchment. "Mum and Dad are going to hex you soon if you don't get on with it!" she added, scanning the pages.

Ron snatched them back, ruffling through the sheets to find the results to the exams they'd taken in June. Harry stared thoughtfully at his own envelope before breaking the seal with a sigh and pulling out the contents. His envelope was lighter than Ron's, probably because it didn't have any of the prefect information Ron's did. He skipped passed the letter welcoming him to a new term at Hogwarts, passed his booklist, which seemed longer than usual, to the final page:

Dear Mr. Potter,
The Examination Board is pleased to announce that you have passed six subjects with a 'P' or better. We would like to encourage you to continue your studies and hope to see you again at the N.E.W.T. examinations. Your results are as follows:
Defense Against the Dark Arts- Outstanding
Transfiguration-Exceeds Expectations
Charms-Exceeds Expectations
Astronomy-Dreadful
Care of Magical Creatures-Exceeds Expectations
Herbology-Outstanding
History of Magic-Dreadful
Divination-Dreadful
Potions-Acceptable
Good luck in the future!
Sincerely-
Madame Griselda Marchbanks
Head Examiner

Harry stared hard at his last score, an Acceptable in Potions, feeling his dreams of becoming an Auror slip through his fingers. He should have studied harder, should have paid more attention in Snape's class! McGonagall had made it very clear to him during his career consultation that he'd need an "Outstanding" in Potions in order to be accepted into Snape's N.E.W.T. level class, a class he needed in order to qualify for Auror training. He stared disconsolately at the remains of his eggs, wondering if there was any possible way he could appeal to Snape.

Ron looked over at him. "You look how I feel, mate," he said, his voice threaded with disappointment. "I only got an 'E' in Potions, and an 'A' in Transfiguration. There's no way McGonagall or Snape will let me into their N.E.W.T. classes."

Harry was relieved to know that he'd at least done better than Ron in Transfiguration, then felt a brief stab of guilt for enjoying the fact that he'd bested his friend at something. "I won't get into Snape's class either, I only got an 'A.' But McGonagall might let you in." He smiled, remembering his encounter with her the year before after having been given a week's worth of detention from their hideous Ministry-appointed Defense teacher, Umbridge. McGonagall had given him biscuits and treated him kindly, even seemed worried about him. "She seems tough and unbending, but she can be quite reasonable. I'd write to her if I were you, beg to be in the class and promise she can kick you out if you're not doing well enough."

Ron nodded. "That might work, but what about Snape? You know we need that class if we want to be Aurors..."

Harry sighed. "Well, maybe we can get Dumbledore to pull some strings and get us in." He laughed. "I never thought I'd see the day when we'd be begging to get into Snape's class!"

"Professor Snape, dear," Mrs. Weasley admonished him as she sat down at the table, having finished clearing the breakfast things. "Let's see your scores then," she said sternly, reaching across the table and plucking the sheet of parchment from Ron's fingers.

While the Weasleys discussed Ron's scores, Mrs. Weasley being thoroughly scandalized by his results in Divination and History of Magic, Harry glanced over the other contents of his letter. The book list, as Ginny had noted, was quite long, and included titles he'd never even heard of, much less seen at Flourish and Blotts. There were a few books he'd expected, such as Advanced Transfiguration and The Theory Behind the Swish and Flick: A Guide to Complex Charms, but the books for Defense Against the Dark Arts were completely unfamiliar to him. Ginny noticed him looking over his list. "What do you suppose this is all about?" she asked him, frowning down at her own list. "Beginner's Guide to Meditation? Channeling Crystals and How to Use Them? Grimmoire, standard edition?" "And what's this all about?" Harry commented. "Invoking the Four Points: A Beginner's Guide to the Spirit World... Ginny, all this sounds like the kind of stuff muggles buy at those New Age stores. And look at the other requirement, something called a 'defensive ingredients and materials packet.'"

Ginny shrugged. Neither of them knew what to make of the new supplies requirements, but it was obvious that Dumbledore had found someone to teach their Defense class this term. At least, Harry thought to himself with a relieved sigh, they wouldn't have to deal with another Ministry Official who wouldn't let them do any magic.

They traveled for Diagon Alley the following day by Floo powder, arriving in the Leaky Cauldron covered in soot, but otherwise in good spirits. Harry and the Weasleys had arranged to meet Hermione and her parents there for a quick lunch before setting off to buy their school supplies.

Tom, the bar tender at the Leaky Cauldron set them up with a long table in a more private back room. Hermione and her parents were waiting for them when they arrived, and Harry felt a surge of relief go through him at the sight of her. She looked exhausted and worried, but a smile broke over her face when she saw them, and she gave them all long hugs that were just short of suffocating.

The Weasley twins, who had their joke shop premises in Diagon Alley, joined them for lunch. Looking around at the people gathered together, Harry felt he had been reunited with his family again. He felt a surge of sadness that Sirius wasn't there to enjoy the meal with them, but he was also grateful that nothing had happened, that no one else had been lost, in the past few months.

After stuffing themselves with Tom's excellent food, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny all went off to buy their school things, while the rest of their party went to have a look at Fred and George's joke shop. At Flourish and Blott's they found all the books they needed, even the more unusual ones which, the wizard at the counter informed them in a scandalized tone, they'd had to order in specially from a muggle store in London proper.

Their next stop was the Apothecary, where they were to buy the special defense packet they were required to have. "What's in this, exactly?" Harry asked the wizard who was gathering packets for the four of them, metal canisters about the size of the average cauldron.

The wizard gave them a funny look. "We've never carried anything like this before," he commented to them as the four of them exchanged confused glances. "All sorts of herbs, some of 'em your basic potion ingredients, others just what seem like dried flowers and cookin' spices to me. Then some crystals, all different colors, chalk, bunch o' candles and such. Makes a feller wonder what they're teachin' yeh up at that school..."

Harry paid for his packet and they left the store, eager to be away from the Apothecary's questioning eyes. Hermione frowned as they made their way toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. As they waited in the sitting room while Ginny got fitted for her new robes, Hermione voiced what the other two had been thinking. "But what exactly is it they'll be teaching us this term? All of these things, the books and supplies, none of it is in any spell book I've ever read." She frowned and lowered her voice so that the other costumers couldn't hear her. "It sounds to me as if Dumbledore is planning to teach us Wicca. But that's all stuff and nonsense, isn't it?"

Ron looked at her blankly, clearly having no idea what Hermione was talking about. Harry tried to explain. "Wicca is a sort of religion for muggles who fancy themselves witches. They draw a lot of pentagrams in the dirt and call on goddesses and such to do spells for them. But Hermione's right, its all a big joke. There were a few kids in my primary school who fancied themselves Wiccans, holding séances and sacrificing mice and things."

Ron shook his head. "I knew Dumbledore was nutters, but I never guessed he'd pull anything like this on us. Muggles performing magic! Its just ridiculous."

Hermione huffed. "Don't be such a bigot, Ron! Just because you come from a long line of wizards doesn't make you better than anyone else!"

"That' not what I'm saying!" Ron exclaimed heatedly. "You're not a muggle, and I don't think any less of them. But they can't do magic, right?"

"Well," said Harry, not wanting Hermione and Ron to have a row when he still had to spend the rest of the day with them, "Dumbledore obviously thinks there something to this, and he's got a reason for having us learn it. We'll just have to trust him, and see what happens."

When Ginny finished, flushed with the excitement of her first set of completely new robes, the rest set off the explore the shops a bit before they were set to meet at the joke shop before dinner. Harry made an excuse about wanting to withdraw some money from his Gringott's account and escaped the others so he could buy them their presents without them asking questions.

He had fun looking through the shops and trying to find things for his friends. They were all so different that it was a challenge shopping for them, but in the end he was quite satisfied with his purchases. For Ron he'd bought a hand carved chessboard inlaid with small squares of obsidian and quartz stone to form the checkerboard pattern. He bought Hermione a book on how to organize lobbying and political groups; he thought she might be able to take S.P.E.W. to the next level with a bit of help. For Neville he found an excellent book on magical desert plants. He was particularly pleased with his gift for Luna. In an out of the way shop filled with young witches and wizards of the decidedly punk variety, he came across a school bag made entirely of bottle caps that changed color to form pictures of famous wizarding musicians, including, Harry was delighted to see, Stubby Bordman.

As he was paying for the bag, he heard his name being called from across the shop. "Wotcher, Harry!" cried Tonks, waving frantically over the crowd of shoppers. Harry finished paying then made his way over to Tonks, giving her a grin. She blended in really well with the other shoppers, among which Harry felt distinctly out of place wearing his old Dudley cast offs. Tonks's hair was blue and spiky, just as it had been the night he had met her a year ago in the Dursley's back hall. He shook his head--he could hardly believe a year had gone by from that night.

"Hey Tonks," he greeted her. "How's everything thing with, er, everything?" he asked, motioning her out of the shop. He realized suddenly that she hadn't been at his birthday party, and wondered if she'd been doing something for the Order that night.

"I've been swamped with work," she confessed to him as they made their way toward the joke shop. "Now that You-Know-Who has been outted, his supporters have wasted no time wreaking havoc at the Ministry. Its all we can do to keep the Death Eaters we caught last June in Azkaban, now that the Dementors have abandoned the place. We're kept busy round the clock, investigating suspected Death Eaters, trying to find the ones that escaped last spring, and trying to keep the ones we caught in prison."

Harry nodded. He'd wondered how they would guard Azkaban once Voldemort lured the Dementors to his side. He wouldn't fancy being an Auror right now. Taking a closer look at Tonks, he realized with a pang that she looked exhausted.

"Hang on a minute," Harry said as they passed the Animal Menagerie. "I need to stop in there and pick something up."

"I'll join you," Tonks said. "My owl is getting old, I've been looking for a new one."

They entered the shop and were immediately assaulted by a barrage of animal calls. After much thought, Harry had finally decided to get Ginny a cat, as she liked Crookshanks so much. He looked over the wall of cats to the left of the door, his eyes immediately lighting upon a cat that hissed and spat upon seeing him. He walked up to its cage and stared at the animal, who stared right back with the ugliest eyes Harry'd ever seen on an animal. One eye was mud brown, the other one pale blue. Its face was long and aristocratic looking, its fur white and sleek.

"What's its name?" he asked the shop keeper, holding his fingers up to the cage for the cat to sniff. It took a few steps forward, its head lowered in suspicion to take a whiff of Harry's fingers. It hissed once more then, seeming satisfied that Harry wasn't going to attack, licked his finger with its rough tongue. Harry grimaced and wiped his fingers on his pants.

"That one doesn't have a name, poor thing," the shopkeeper told Harry. "Found her on the street outside, abandoned, and once I'd fed her she wouldn't leave me be." She approached the cage and lifted out the small cat, who immediately began climbing up the witch's robe to perch on her shoulder magestically. "Powerfully magical, this one is," the witch told him in a hushed voice. "Suspect she may be a kneazle, even."

"I'll take her then," Harry said, thinking that if anyone could break through the cat's cool, haughty exterior, it would be Ginny.

Although Harry had planned to wait until term began before giving his friends their gifts, the cat carrier gave him away, and he couldn't very well hide the cat from Ginny for another two weeks, especially as it had taken to hissing at everything and everyone that passed it by.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed upon seeing him and Tonks enter the store, each carrying a cage. Tonks had bought a lovely Tawny owl to replace her old one, which was in bad need of a rest. "Did you buy a cat?"

The rest of the Weasleys, Hermione's parents, and even some of the joke shop patrons were all staring at him. "Er, yes. But its not for me. Here," he said, blushing ferociously and handing the basket to a shocked Ginny.

She peeked inside the carrier and squealed with delight. "Oh Harry, she's beautiful! And friendly!" Ginny giggled as the cat, to Harry's great surprise, eagerly licked at her fingers. "But, why did you do this? " she asked, her hazel eyes boring into his.

He handed Ron and Hermione their gifts as well. He hadn't wanted to do this in front of everyone else, but he couldn't very well give Ginny her present and not the others. The parents, sensing his discomfort, began a loud conversation about the weather, while Fred showed Tonks around the shop and George rang up a sale.

"This is great!" Hermione gasped excitedly, paging through her book.

Ron gave a low whistle. "Harry, mate, this is too much! Why'd you get us this stuff?" he asked. They all stared at him, curious and confused.

He flushed an even deeper red, if it was possible. Staring at his feet, he told them, "I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate what you did for me, back in June. Going with me to the Ministry," he paused, taking a turn to look each of them in the eye, "it was above and beyond the call of friendship. It's the least I could do."

"This is really nice, Harry," Hermione said softly, "but you can't go on feeling guilty about putting us in danger. We've discussed this, and I won't have you feeling bad about it anymore! Just remember this one extremely important rule next time you get some mad idea in your head."

"What's that?" Harry asked, humbled by his friend's declaration.

"I'm always right," she declared with a grin.

Hermione gave him a teary hug, while Ginny and Ron beamed at him. He showed them all what he'd gotten Neville and Luna, and they all laughed over the bottle cap school bag. "She'll love it!" Ginny told him with a smile.

All in all it had been a long day, and by the time the returned by Floo to the Burrow, Harry was ready to skip his nightly research and go straight to bed. Just as he was getting ready to change into his pajamas a knock came at the door, and Mrs. Weasley poked her head in. "Harry dear," she said, a worried look in her eyes, "Professor Dumbledore is here. He'd like to speak with you."

Harry exchanged a surprised glance with Ron, as if to say, "What's happened this time?" and left quickly, not wanting to keep Dumbledore waiting, as he probably had more important things to do than chat with students. If he was honest with himself, Harry knew he was no ordinary student, and this was unlikely to be an ordinary chat about his health and how his summer had gone, but he still felt a little guilty taking up Dumbledore's time.

Dumbledore was pacing in front of the fireplace when Harry arrived, dressed in flowing green robes with glittering gold stars embroidered at the cuffs and hem. "Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said with a small smile, indicating a chair for Harry to sit in. The old wizard took the seat opposite Harry across the table. "Its good to see you again. I trust you've had a better summer than your last?"

Harry shrugged and looked away from his Headmaster, unable to quite meet the man's eyes, trying not to remember the fact that last summer, despite a Dementor attack and a ministry hearing, had been spent with Sirius. "Thank you for letting me come to the Burrow so quickly. I know its safer at Privet Drive, but..." His voice was dull and lifeless. His anger at the Headmaster had spent itself out, but Harry was still having a hard time trusting the old wizard the way he used to. Before it had been so easy, so uncomplicated. Dumbledore had seemed infallible; nothing truly terrible could happen as long as Dumbledore was around, the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. But now, after the Third Task, and particularly after the Department of Mysteries, Harry had ceased to see him as an untouchable force of good that would always prevail. Their conversation in the Headmaster's office a few months ago had changed everything. Not only was Dumbledore undeniably human, Harry realized, but he had made grave errors in judgement, errors that had cost people their lives. Harry couldn't stay mad at the old man, but neither could he completely forgive him. Dumbledore held up a wrinkled hand. "Say no more. Its always nicer to be with one's friends than with, well, people who don't appreciate you as they should." Harry could tell by his tone that Dumbledore didn't think very highly of the Dursleys and couldn't help but feel pleased by that thought. "But unfortunately, we have more than pleasantries to discuss tonight, I'm afraid."

Harry nodded. He'd been expecting this. He didn't know what was coming, perhaps horrible news about more deaths, or maybe even something Dumbledore needed for him to do for the Order, but the words that came out of the old man's mouth were the last ones he expected--or wanted--to hear. "I am pleased to inform you that Professor Snape has agreed to continue your Occlumency lessons once school begins. Although you are now aware of where your connection with Voldemort can lead you, I still feel it is imperative that you be able to close your mind to him."

"But Professor!" Harry sputtered, horrified at the idea of having to face Snape again after his visit to that awful memory in Snape's pensive the year before, "I can't, I won't! Snape and I, we just don't get along. He... he hates me!"

Dumbledore sighed, his expression sad and thoughtful. "Professor Snape does not hate you, Harry, nor should you harbor any ill feelings toward him. I know you blame him partially for Sirius's death, but if you should blame anything, it should be the enmity that always existed between them. Both you and Professor Snape need to learn to set aside your differences, especially in this matter." He stared hard into Harry's eyes, the blue depths of his eyes cold and unflinching. "I cannot hope to impress upon you the importance of learning this skill Harry. It is vital to our cause."

"Why can't you teach me, then?" Harry asked defiantly, beginning to feel some of the old anger rushing back to him.

"It is as I told you in June in my office, Harry. To open your mind to me, in the presence of Voldemort, would be dangerous for both of us. However," he said, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "if you have progressed enough by the end of Fall term, perhaps I can take over for Professor Snape then. Would that be agreeable to you?"

Harry's shoulders slumped and he nodded. "You know I can't say no, professor," he said, his voice bitter with defeat. His eyes lit up, and he raised his head slowly, an idea dawning in his brain. "However," he continued hopefully, "may I ask for something in return?"

"I am not usually one to bargain with my students, Harry," Dumbledore commented with a small smile, "but I suppose you may ask. Whether or not I agree is an entirely different matter."

"Let Ron and me into Snape's N.E.W.T. class. I know neither of us made 'Outstandings' on our O.W.L.'s," he continued hastily, before Dumbledore could interrupt, "but its been difficult for us to learn, with Snape glaring at us and constantly docking points from Gryffindor for no reason! And if we don't do well enough after Fall term, he can kick us out!" Harry finished desperately. He gazed pleadingly at the old wizard. "Please, sir! We need that class if we're going to be Aurors."

Dumbledore sat thoughtfully, his long fingers steepled beneath his chin. "Very well," he said after several long minutes. "I will discuss the matter with Professor Snape." Harry smiled gratefully, thinking that there was no way Snape would refuse a request from Dumbledore himself. As Dumbledore stood to leave, he put a hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing it in a comforting way. "And Harry, you must try this time. With all your will, which I know is formidable. You must try. Take care."