The Greatest Kind of Magic

4. The Phoenix Propaganda Team

Liam began his task immediately, reading through the information on the first listed potion ingredient over lunch. After watching him for a little while, Hermione couldn't resist any longer. "Listen, Liam..." she said, "how are you planning on going about this?"

"What do you mean, how? By memorising every bloody ingredient in that glossary, one by one. How else?"

"Yeah, but look, you don't need to do them in order, do you? Here, look: Snape's told us that we're making a sleeping potion next lesson, right?"

"Yeah, that's right..."

"Well... here..." she took his textbook and flipped through until she found the page with the recipe for the sleeping potion. "Look at the ingredients for this potion. You'll need to know them for next lesson. Knowing Snape, he's bound to ask you about them. If you don't answer, he'll say you haven't prepared for his class, and take away House points. So, learn these ingredients first."

"Oh. That's a good idea, thanks."

He thought back to the Potions lesson. "Why the hell did he take such an instant dislike to me? I mean, I know you said he was mean, Ron, but he seems to hate me especially! And I've never even met him before!"

Hermione answered, "I think it's because he's annoyed at having to take you into his class. He was already angry, because Dumbledore forced him to take students with lower than "Outstanding" marks- and then he also got saddled with a student who hasn't even done the O.W.L.'s."

"Well, I can't help that, can I?" said Liam, exasperated. "You know, when my mum enrolled me, she asked if I'd need to take the O.W.L.'s to get into sixth year. She got an owl back saying that normally I would, but the school and the Ministry couldn't spare the resources to give me a private exam. They said I'd have to go into fifth year. But I was really pissed off about that, so I owled them myself telling them how I was a good student, and I'd work hard and all that, so they said they'd give me a chance."

"Well, your actual potion was pretty good," said Hermione. "You just need to learn the theory, that's all."

"Yeah... Well, I guess I'd better get started on this glossary, then. There's eighty-seven ingredients here. If I learn ten a day, plus a few extra on the weekend, I should be able to get it all done in time."

"Good luck," said Ron. "You're gonna need it."

***

Harry was looking forward to the afternoon class: it would be a double period of Defence Against the Dark Arts. He couldn't wait to see what Tonks would be like as a teacher. Of course, after Umbridge, even Snape would be an improvement, but Harry was certain that the young Auror would be much better than that. He was therefore very eager to get to her class, and led the way, chatting to Ron about what they thought Tonks might teach them. Liam trailed behind them as Hermione quizzed him on the properties of Mandrake roots.

When they arrived, Tonks was sitting on the teacher's desk. She greeted them warmly as they came in.

"How's it going?" asked Harry.

"Well, it started bad because, well, you saw me arrive this morning, but all things considered, it's been alright! So far, so good!" She leaned over and said in a whisper, "My first lesson was fifth-year Slytherins. Can you imagine such bad luck? I had Ravenclaws after that, though, and they were alright."

Harry gave her the thumbs up and took a seat at the front of the room. Gradually, the class filled up.

"Okay, is everyone here?" said Tonks, clapping her hands in a business-like manner. "Let's get started." She looked over the class. For most other subjects, sixth year classes were composed of a mixture of students from all the Houses. However, as Defence Against the Dark Arts was considered to be an extremely important subject, so many students chose it that they still had to be split up into House groups. This year, the Gryffindors shared Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Ravenclaws.

"My name is Tonks," said Tonks. "Now, my official title at this school is 'Professor Tonks', which makes me sound about fifty years old instead of twenty-three, which is what I am. Anyway, it seems a bit presumptuous to force you guys to call me 'Professor', when I'm only a few years older than you! So it's Tonks, please. Now, what I actually am is an Auror, but Dumbledore asked me to take on this job, and who can argue with Dumbledore, eh? Anyway, I thought I'd give it a shot, and it's kinda fun being back at Hogwarts again. Anyway... I'm sorry to say that Defence Against the Dark Arts does involve a lot of theory. I'll be teaching you various defensive spells and counter-spells, but to perform them properly, you will need to know the magical theory behind them. I'll also go into some more advanced Dark Arts theory, because you gotta understand how Dark Magic forms and spreads. You'll learn a lot more about Dark Magic than you've been allowed to in the past - be warned, some of this stuff is pretty disturbing. But you're old enough now to be able to handle it."

She had the full attention of the class now. Harry looked around and saw that everybody was looking eager and anxious to get started. Only Neville's face revealed feelings similar to Harry's own: uncertainty and a trace of fear. The two boys were the only people in the class, who had suffered a close enough brush with the Dark Arts to know that it wasn't a topic to be taken lightly.

"All right, then, let's begin. I think the first thing anyone intending to fight the Dark Arts needs to know is, what exactly are 'Dark Arts'? Where do we draw the line between 'light' and 'dark' magic?" She drew a line down the middle of the blackboard, dividing it into two. On one side, she wrote "Light Magic", on the other, "Dark Magic". "So, what do you think? What distinguishes the darkness from the light?"

The class was silent. After a few seconds, Hermione raised her hand. "Dark Magic is performed with the intent of harming someone."

"Very good," said Tonks, writing "intent to harm" under "Dark Magic" on the blackboard. "But it's not quite so simple. For example, Love Potions are classified as Dark Magic. Anyone know why?"

This time, to everybody's surprise, it was Liam who raised his hand first. "I'm just guessing here, but I think anything that forces somebody to do something against their will is classified Dark Magic."

"Excellent. Now, tell me this, Mr..."

"Liam Grady."

"Liam. Is Veritaserum Dark Magic?"

Liam thought about it. "I don't know," he said finally. "It seems like it should be, but it's not illegal, is it?"

Tonks smiled. "A very good answer. The truth is, the distinction between Light and Dark magic is often very subtle, and debate rages constantly over what should be classified as Dark Magic. For example, should an Auror be allowed to use the Unforgiveable Curses in the line of duty?"

Some people nodded; others shook their heads. Tonks asked the class to vote on the matter. Out of eighteen people, nine voted "no", four voted "yes" and five, including Neville and Harry, abstained. Harry remembered what Dumbledore had told him at the end of the previous year. The thought of killing anybody, even Voldemort, made Harry feel sick, yet he knew that his own life depended on it. He was no longer sure about what was right - it seemed that his destiny was forcing him to ignore his own morals.

The thought of the prophecy that linked him to Voldemort plagued him constantly. In conjunction with the still-raw wound left by Sirius's death, it ate away at his insides and tormented him in the dark hours of the night. He was managing to hold himself together only by keeping busy and trying to avoid being alone. Inside him, there was a constant battle, between the need to stay strong, and the urge to curl up in a corner and hide like a frightened child.

"Alright, then," Tonks continued. "You should know that I will be using one of the Unforgiveable curses in this class - don't look so alarmed, I won't hurt anybody!" She laughed. "Professor Moody, I know, tried to train you to resist the Imperius curse. I'll be doing that as well, and hopefully this time around, you'll have a bit more success. That particular skill will be absolutely invaluable to you should you ever encounter You-Know-Who or his supporters. One of his chief weapons during the last war was the Imperius curse - wizards being forced to commit atrocities against their will..."

It was a very thought-provoking lesson. Tonks did not just teach - she was also very interested in the students' own beliefs and perceptions. "So much depends on your own point of view," she said at the end of the lesson. "You can't always be told what's right and wrong - often you'll have to decide on the spot, and it won't be an easy choice. Sometimes it comes down to choosing the lesser of two evils."

"Wow," said Ron as he tried to stuff his textbook into his bag after the lesson. "That was an eye-opener and no mistake."

"It all comes down to morals, doesn't it?" said Hemione thoughtfully. "What you think is right."

"It also depends on the situation," said Harry. "Right and wrong... Sometimes you have no choice but to go against your own morals. For the greater good and all that."

He was trying to convince himself, trying to justify his own inevitable future. He was failing miserably. His distress must have shown, because Hermione studied his face carefully and asked, "Are you alright, Harry?"

He forced his face into a smile. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Hermione looked unconvinced, but she did not pursue the matter. They were now the only students left in the classroom. Everybody else had rushed off to enjoy the remainder of the afternoon, except Liam, who had walked off with his head buried in his Potions textbook. Neville had taken it upon himself to guide him, after Liam walked into the doorframe.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were about to leave, but Tonks called them back. "Hey," she said. "I need to talk to you three."

Harry stared at her in surprise. Could it be news from the Order of the Phoenix?

He was not disappointed. "The Order," Tonks whispered conspiringly, "has a task for you."

The trio exchanged excited glances. Harry couldn't believe his ears. Could it be that the Order finally considered them capable of contributing to the fight against Voldemort?

"Does this mean we're accepted into the Order?" asked Ron excitedly. "That they'll make us members?"

Tonks shook her head. "Not exactly. Sorry, Ron. I guess what you can be is a sort of sub-Order." She grinned. "You can be the Phoenix Propaganda Team! Name it what you want, really."

"Propaganda?" asked Harry. "What do you mean?"

"Okay, let me explain. The simple fact is, here at Hogwarts we have pretty much all the young witches and wizards in England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales. Every town, city, village and clan is represented. Every major wizard family. So, You-Know-Who is now trying to gather supporters - and that includes young people. Young minds are susceptible. It's easy to recruit supporters from a school - if your ideas can penetrate the castle walls. And you can bet your sweet wands that there are students here who are spreading his lies, and turning more and more kids to You-Know-Who's cause. We need you to counter that."

"Huh? How?"

"By spreading your own ideas, of course. Make people understand that our side is the only side to be on, make them realise that there is no reward in joining You-Know-Who. Rally support for Dumbledore."

"I don't get it," said Harry bluntly. "What do you want us to do, hand out pamphlets, or something?"

"Oh, no, nothing that obvious. People must not know they're being manipulated. You'll have to be subtle. I didn't say it was an easy task - but you three have proven yourselves resourceful enough that the Order feels you can do this. And after all, there really is no one else who can."

Harry, however, was not satisfied. In fact, he was beginning to feel angry. "I thought we'd proven ourselves capable of more than spreading a few rumours! This is a joke! After everything I've done..." - seeing the looks on his friends' faces, he quickly corrected himself - "...we've done - after everything we've been through - this is all they can give us?"

"Harry, be reasonable. You're still at school! You can't go off and fight Death Eaters while you're here at Hogwarts! The Order has given you a task, which you are in a position to do. A very important task! Harry, do you have any idea how much of a war is fought with words? Voldemort's strength is not in his ability to kill, but his ability to spread fear and discord! We need to fight that. Our best weapon lies in unity, in people's loyalty to our cause! Do you understand?"

Harry didn't want to understand, but a small, nagging voice inside his head was telling him Tonks was right. He struggled with his anger. "All right," he conceded finally. "All right, you're right, okay?" he said this as if daring the others to laugh at him for backing down.

"All right. I know it's frustrating, Harry, but we all have to do what we can. Good luck, okay? And keep it subtle!"

They left the room. Harry's mind was in disarray. He had mixed feelings about their task. He could see now that it was indeed important, but at the same time, he wished he could do something more substantial. In the end he was forced to admit to himself that what he really wanted was action. He didn't like the idea of fighting a war with propaganda and mind games. He wanted a straight fight.

Hermione, on the other hand, already had her mind on the task. "This is going to take a bit of thought. How do we stop people turning to the Dark Side without them catching on to what we're up to?"

Ron snorted. "I don't know! I'm with Harry. I mean, what do they expect us to do, walk up to Malfoy and say, 'Hey, don't become a Death Eater'?"

"No, Ron, didn't you hear what Tonks said? We have to be more subtle than that. Anyway, I don't think we have a chance of converting people like Malfoy... What we can do is prevent people like Wormtail."

"What do you mean, prevent?"

"I mean that many of Voldemort's supporters chose to join him because they were afraid not to or because they just wanted some power, or simply couldn't see any hope of victory..."

"'If you can't beat them, join them'," said Harry. For some reason this thought made him feel extremely sad.

"Exactly!" said Hermione. "So, what we have to do is make people understand that they will not be safe if they join the Dark Side, that there's nothing to gain by doing so. They won't get power, they will get slavery. That's what people need to know."

"So, how do we tell them?"

"I don't know. I'll have to think about it. But the first thing we have to do, Harry..." - she paused to take a deep breath - "...is re-form the DA."

Harry was stunned. Of all things he had expected her to say, this was not one of them. Since the tragic events of the previous June (Harry quickly buried the thought), he had barely even thought about the DA. Too much had happened, too much had changed. He hadn't even considered re-forming the secret Defence group.

"But, Hermione... we have a good Defence teacher now..."

"That's not the point. The point is, it'll be a means for people opposed to Voldemort to come together. We can continue to practice our spells, but more importantly, we'll be able to form a network of people loyal to Dumbledore! As long as we keep it secret, no Voldemort supporter will be able to penetrate it. Don't worry, I'll come up with some really nasty curse to deter any potential traitors."

Ron grinned. "So, is this a situation where you have to go against your own morals?"

"Well, honestly, Ron! I'm not going to kill anybody."

Harry shivered, although the castle was actually quite warm. "Look, I'm not saying it's a bad idea - it's not - but I'll have to think about it. I mean... I'm just not sure that I can do it."

"That's okay, Harry. We understand," said Hermione. And somehow, Harry knew that she did indeed understand. Because he had not meant that he was not capable of teaching students defensive spells: he just wasn't sure, right then, whether he would be able to face the DA. Not after what had happened...

But Hermione understood that, and Harry was grateful.

***

Liam was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, memorising Potions ingredients. He was now onto his seventh one, which he felt was not bad for an afternoon's work. He was beginning to feel tired and drained, but he wanted to take advantage of the fact that the common room was temporarily quiet. It appeared that most of Gryffindor House had gone to watch the Quidditch tryouts, leaving behind those very few individuals who actually had better things to do with their time. Among these was Hermione, who was sitting near the window and writing something on a piece of parchment. After a while, she came over and sat next to Liam.

"How's it going?" she asked, indicating the Potions textbook.

"Pretty good," he replied. "I've done six, so just four more for today."

"That's good." She hesitated. "Listen, Liam, do you know anything about Muggle history?"

Liam raised his eyebrows. "Well, yeah, a bit. Why?"

"What do you know about... propaganda? Like, Hitler, Stalin... How did they... convince people?"

"Oh... I don't know it all that well. But fear was a great part of it. People were afraid to speak out. And ignorance. Like, most people didn't really know what was going on. And not knowing who to trust... Look, I don't want to lie to you, I really don't know this stuff very well. But if you're really interested, I have a pretty good book on twentieth century history. Igot it for my birthday, but haven't got around to reading it yet. You can borrow it, if you like."

"Oh, really? That'd be great!"

"Come on, I'll get it for you," he said with a smile. "What do you want to know this stuff for, anyway?"

"Oh, just sort of general interest. I'm thinking about how Voldemort is similar to these Muggle dictators."

"I think he is a dictator. It's just that he happens to use magic to do his dirty work. But all his other tactics - spreading terror, discord, uncertainty - it's been done a thousand times before. In Muggle history, and in magical history too, I'm sure."

She followed him into the boys' dormitory. "Hey, they put in an extra bed..." she said.

"Well what did you expect, that I'd sleep on the floor?" He opened his trunk and rummaged through the pile of books. "Here it is."

But Hermione was staring at Liam's open trunk. "All those books! You brought them all?"

"Well, yeah. I love reading, and I re-read all my favourites pretty often. I mean, this is just a fraction of what I have at home."

Hermione had fallen to her knees beside the trunk, her eyes glowing. "Tolkien, Dickens, Salinger... Ooooh! You have Douglas Adams!"

Liam was laughing now. There was something thrilling about meeting a fellow enthusiast. It was a feeling, Liam was certain, that only a keen reader could understand. "You like the Hitchhiker's Guide? I thought you wizards didn't read Muggle authors!"

"I'm Muggle-born. And those wizards don't know what they're missing out on!" she said heatedly. "Oh, please, please, please can I borrow it? It's been so long since I've read it!"

"Of course. Well, if I don't let you, you'll just sneak in here at night and steal it, won't you?"

Hermione nodded vigorously.

"But honestly," said Liam as they walked back down to the common room, "I would've thought you'd be into really serious stuff, like Orwell or something. Not the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."

"Oh, I've read Orwell. But Nineteen Eighty-Four isn't exactly the sort of thing you want to read twice. The Hitchhiker's Guide, on the other hand... Well, we all have our guilty pleasures, don't we?"