Storm Clouds

A Little Touch Of Harry

**~**~**~**~**~**

"Honestly Ron! You'll be lucky to earn any O.W.L.s at this rate!"

Ron rolled his eyes before looking up from the chessboard. "Hermione, the exams are still two weeks away. I'll manage." He returned his attention to the game, at which he was soundly beating Harry, as usual.

Harry heard the impatient Tut! behind him as Hermione moved to the opposite corner of the common room and sat down behind her usual stack of books. They were stuck in Gryffindor Tower for the afternoon; Care of Magical Creatures had been cancelled due to torrential rains. It was abnormally quiet with just the fifth years present, and most of them were taking the opportunity for a little extra study.

Ron and Harry were the only exception, Ron because he was academically lazy and Harry because he was certain that if he revised one more class his head would explode. He kept telling himself that periods of mental relaxation were actually conducive to better grades, and trying to ignore the voice that kept laughing in the back of his head. It sounded suspiciously like Hermione.

The portrait hole opened and a crowd of chattering first and second years piled into the common room. Dennis Creevey bounded over to where Harry and Ron sat. He had been hounding them everyday about the upcoming Quidditch match against Slytherin, which would take place on the Saturday after O.W.L.s. Although Gryffindor was enjoying a nearly two hundred point lead in the Quidditch and House Cup standings Harry refused to let Dennis take his place in the game.

"No, Dennis! I've told you at least a dozen times!" Harry all but shouted.

Dennis recoiled from the reprimand, a blush staining his cheeks. He held his ground however. "I'm supposed to tell you that Professor McGonagall and Professor Griffith want to see you as soon as possible," he said, sounding hurt.

Harry immediately felt guilty for his treatment of the younger boy, but he couldn't spare him much thought. "Where am I supposed to meet them?" he asked, standing up and abandoning the chess game.

"In the Transfiguration room."

Harry bolted out of the portrait hole and raced down five flights of stairs to the Transfiguration classroom. For both McGonagall and Morgan to want to see him it had to be fairly urgent. His mind jumped to Ginny, and concern for her spurred him on faster. By the time he slid to a halt in the doorway he was red-cheeked and out of breath.

"Honestly, Potter! There is no need to race through the halls like that!" Professor McGonagall reprimanded him.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I was worried about - " His voice trailed off when he glanced in the room. Ginny was seated at one of the desks, chatting with Pansy, Mandy and Eleanor. Morgan was sitting at the teacher's desk marking an essay. Harry recognized the handwriting as Ron's. She glanced up and put the essay away as soon as she saw Harry.

"Sit, please, Harry." She stood and came around the desk, half sitting, half leaning against its edge. Harry sank into the chair behind a desk, his mouth going dry. He had a bad feeling about this meeting. He tried to catch Ginny's eye but she was deliberately ignoring him. He was equally avoiding Morgan's gaze.

"I asked all five of you here this afternoon because its time to settle matters once and for all."

Three of the girls exchanged nervous glances. Ginny kept her eyes focused on her hands. "We need to settle who the next Guardian is, don't we?" Mandy asked, a slight tremor in her voice.

"Not exactly," Morgan said. Harry could feel her eyes drilling into the back of his head. "We don't really need to have the final test, do we Harry?" He didn't speak, and his silence was answer enough. Morgan sighed. "Ginny is my successor," she blandly announced. The words were greeted with gasps of surprise. "However," she continued, "I believe that there were four potential Guardians of your generation for a reason. You have all been granted great powers. I hope that you will allow them to develope and be trained, and use them to fight when needed." She stared hard at the three girls. "You still have a role to play."

Harry glanced up then at the three other girls. Each had a similar expression on her face; a combination of fear and determination. But it was Pansy's eyes that held his gaze the longest. Behind the obvious there was a flash of uncertainty there, and Harry felt a chill in his blood. If Pansy decided that living up to Slytherin House was more important. . .

"Harry, Ginny, please stay for a moment. I have something I want to discuss with you." Morgan's voice jerked Harry out of his thoughts to see Mandy, Pansy and Eleanor filing from the room. At the last minute Pansy turned her head and met his eyes, and Harry felt the same chill. He resolved to have a discussion with Pansy himself in the near future, before turning his attention to the unpleasant discussion he was about to have.

Morgan wasted no time. "I'd like to thank you, Harry, for not trusting me enough to impart vital information from your vision," she said in a voice coated in sarcasm. "Do you realize how dangerous it could have been, keeping that knowledge from me? I could have begun the first phase of Ginny's education long before this, but now. . . ." Morgan threw her arms up in exasperation. "Why, Harry?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, but remained silent. He could sense Ginny's stare on him, but he refused to look at her. Anger at her was starting to boil inside of him; anger that she had betrayed his confidence, anger that she had put Morgan ahead of him when she had always. . . .

Loved him?

His mind froze on that thought. Of course, he had always been aware of Ginny's painfully embarrassing crush on him, but hadn't given it a moments thought since the school year had begun. She was different now; calmer, more sedate and mature, more self-confident. They were friends now, friends in their own right. Why, then, had she told Morgan about his vision?

"I didn't tell her, you know," Ginny's voice intruded on Harry's confused thoughts. There was a moment's pause and Harry guessed Ginny and Morgan were having a small staring contest. "Evidently when two empaths are in close contact and connected to each other in some way a form of telepathy can develop."

Harry jerked his head around to look at Ginny. "She read your mind?" he asked, trying to keep from sounding overly shocked.

"Not 'read', exactly," Morgan answered his question. "As soon as I felt the telepathic connection I knew that Ginny had to be my successor. The rest came out later." She crossed the room and sat beside Harry, holding his gaze. "I'm not going to pretend that I'm pleased you kept this from me, Harry. However, there's no point in recriminations at this stage. It is far more important that I begin training Ginny, and that you prepare for you induction in to the Order."

"Induction?"

Morgan grinned. "Yes, Harry. Your induction. Without the ceremony your power can not be joined to the Order's. The actual joining of power will not take place until your seventeenth birthday, but the induction ceremony can take place on the evening of the summer solstice."

Harry nodded to acknowledge her statement, then glanced at Ginny. "I'm sorry," he said. "I assumed that you spilled everything to her. I should have known better." He then turned to Morgan. "I didn't mean to keep anything from you. Honestly, I didn't even realize the full significance of what was said about your successor until hours later."

Morgan nodded once. "Actually, I more or less figured it was something like that. And by the time you had it straight in your head you guessed that it didn't really matter, right?"

Harry flushed. "Not exactly," he mumbled.

"Harry, its all right. At a guess I'd say that you wanted to protect Ginny because of the friendship you share, and I certainly can't fault you for that. I probably would have done the same thing." She paused for a moment while Harry braced himself for the worse to come. "However, given the circumstances and the state of the wizarding world it was irresponsible to keep any information from me, no matter how honourable your motives." She gave him a hard glance. "Are we agreed that there will be no secrets from this point forward?"

Harry thought for a moment before extending his hand to Morgan. "No secrets," he solemnly agreed. Morgan took his hand and looked towards where Ginny sat, and without another word the Ginny stood and approached the dark haired pair.

"No secrets," she intoned, wrapping their clasped hands in both of hers.

The torches lining the walls immediately flared higher and glowed an eerie blue. The light ebbed and flowed and seemed to surround the trio. There was a sound like the call of a phoenix just before the entire room went dark. Dark except for a reflection of that blue light in Morgan's eyes. Then a blue flame leapt to life around their joined hands and burned for nearly a full minute. When it disappeared the candles and torches in the room came back to life. Morgan withdrew her hand slowly.

"It looks like the Order of the Phoenix approves of our promises."

**~**~**~**~**~**

The final two weeks leading up to exams passed entirely too quickly. Madame Pomfrey was run all but ragged in supplying calming draughts to various nervous fifth and seventh years. Perhaps the only people that escaped even the fear of needing a potion were the Weasley twins. Harry had come close on one particularly stressful day, but had burned off his nerves in a frantic flight around the Quidditch stadium.

Hermione had been kept overnight in the hospital wing for observation after a nervous collapse during double Potions one afternoon. After her release Morgan had made a special point of limiting Hermione's study time to under two hours a day. Although feelings of panic were not assuaged, there was no more danger of Hermione having a nervous breakdown.

"Can't I just skip my fifth year and go straight to sixth?" Ginny asked one evening as Harry and Ron quizzed each other on the ingredients and procedure for brewing a Fortitude potion. Ron ignored her but Harry shot her a glance that spoke volumes. She simply grinned in response before turning back to her Transfiguration homework.

"And one half cup of dragon's blood. . ." Ron was still reciting ingredients.

"No, Ron. Dragon scales, not blood. Dragon blood combined with the other ingredients would explode." Hermione dropped into the vacant chair. "Besides, you need to put the books away. We have a prefects meeting in ten minutes."

Ron nodded once to acknowledge hearing her, all the while muttering dragon scales under his breath. Harry made a note in the margin of his textbook about exploding dragon's blood before pushing his books away. Potions was to be their first O.W.L. tomorrow morning, and he felt as ready as he could ever be. He also figured that a good night's sleep would be worth more than an extra hour of study.

As soon as Ron and Hermione left for their prefects meeting he climbed the stairs to the dormitory in search of a few moments of peace. The mental stress of the exams was starting to wear on him, and he wanted some time to himself. Flopping down on his bed, Harry pulled Flying With The Cannons from his trunk and lost himself in pleasurable Quidditch daydreams.

"I didn't know that you could earn an O.W.L. in Quiddicth."

Although he was startled by the sudden voice Harry didn't show it. "Extra credit," he nonchalantly explained, turning another page of the book. It wasn't until he heard the springs squeak as the intruder sat on Ron's bed that he looked up from the book. "What's up, Gin?" he asked.

She shrugged, then shook her head. "Nothing, really. I just. . . You know, when we. . ." She looked unsure.

"Spit it out, Gin," he said, sitting up on his own four-poster.

She mumbled something under her breath; the only word Harry caught was "forest". His mind instantly jumped back to that afternoon at his favourite spot on the lakeshore. His cheeks started to burn as he remembered the scent of Ginny's hair and how her lips had felt against his.

Ginny's face was almost as red as her hair, but she met his gaze squarely. "I just wanted to tell you that what happened that day - you know, in the forest - was no big deal. I didn't want you to think I was going to dwell on it."

"That's good news, Gin," Harry said, trying to suppress a grin. "I'd hate to think you were dwelling on Morgan and Lupin's relationship."

Ginny rolled her eyes, refusing to rise to the bait. "I just wanted you to know," she repeated. "It was just a moment, that's all."

"Just a moment," Harry agreed. His eyes strayed to Ginny's mouth and the rising coulour in her face told him that she was thinking the same thing. She leaned a little closer, and he reached out a hand to her shoulder to steady her perch on Ron's bed.

"Do you want to repeat the moment?" Ginny asked, her voice the merest whisper.

"I'm seriously considering it," Harry replied before he started to lean towards her. He could feel her breath on his cheek, smell the spicy scent of her hair. . . .

His scar suddenly exploded with pain. He pitched forward with a gasp of shock and pain, falling into Ginny's arms. He was vaguely aware of her calling his name, but he couldn't bring himself to reply. He needed all of his strength to fight off the agony.

When Harry had suddenly cried out and fallen against her Ginny reacted instinctively. Although he was almost a dead weight against her she didn't allow him to fall to the floor, despite her protesting muscles. She slid off of her brother's bed and onto her knees, taking Harry with her.

"Ginny, what's going on? What's wrong with Harry?"

Ginny had never been so glad to hear Seamus Finnegan's voice in her life. "Get Morgan, QUICK!" she shouted, lowering Harry down to lie on his back.

Seamus didn't hesitate; he sprinted down the stairs calling Morgan's name. Ginny smoothed the hair back from Harry's forehead and was surprised to feel heat coming from his scar. It looked red and inflamed, and his eyes had a glassy appearance, as if he wasn't all there, mentally.

The door suddenly flew open and Morgan swept into the room. She quickly knelt at Harry's side and pressed a hand to his forehead. She jerked back with a sharp cry, as if the touch had burned. She looked up at Ginny. "What happened?"

"I don't know!" Ginny replied, her voice shaking. "We were just talking, and then he collapsed." She gave Harry an anxious glance before meeting the older woman's eyes again. "I don't know what happened, except his scar is hot."

"I know," Morgan said, her eyes glued to Harry's forehead. "Its not a fever, however. Some outside agent is causing this. Something evil."

"Is that what hurt your hand?" Ginny timidly asked.

Morgan nodded once. "I think he's having some sort of vision. Dumbledore told me about the dreams he had last year and the pains in his scar whenever Voldemort was near. At a guess I'd say this was an extension of that."

"Voldemort is doing this?" Ginny asked, feeling a shiver of fear chase up her spine. "Can you stop it? Can you help him?"

"I don't know." Morgan reached out her hand again, but drew back with a wince of pain barely an inch above Harry's forehead. "I can't touch his scar right now; the power of the Order won't allow it for my protection." She met Ginny's gaze. "But you can."

Ginny swallowed hard, pushing her fear to one side. "What do I do?"

"Place you hand on his forehead, making sure your palm completely covers his scar," Morgan replied. Ginny placed her hand as instructed, and as soon as she touched Harry she felt a corresponding pain and heat in her own forehead. It was a pale copy of what Harry was suffering, she knew, but at least it was relieving him of some of his anguish.

"Now, take my hand," Morgan instructed, holding one hand toward Ginny while placing the other on Harry's shoulder. Ginny braced herself for heaven-knew-what and clasped Morgan's hand in hers.

It was a large room, dark-paneled and dominated by the fireplace that covered an entire wall. It was huge; large enough for a tall man to stand fully upright in. The mantelpiece was marble, inlaid with a mosaic depicting two giant snakes entwined. The floor to ceiling windows were framed with dark green draperies and every accent in the room gleamed silver.

"Do you have it?" a cold voice came out of the darkness behind the polished mahogany desk."

"Yes, my lord," came the reply from a man who knelt before the desk, keeping his face averted. "I finished it an hour ago."

"Excellent." The high pitched voice made a hiss out of the word. "You are a weak, powerless creature, Wormtail, but you have rendered me a valuable service."

"How do we know he isn't trying to trap us?" came a third voice. Its owner was a tall man with sleek blond hair and steely grey eyes. He leaned against the mantle of the monstrous fireplace, as far from the cringing man before the desk as he could get.

"Wormtail wouldn't lie to me, would you?" A whimper of fear escaped the kneeling man. "Do not fret, Lucius. The map will be as accurate as Wormtail can make it. Not a match to the original which was crafted by his friends, but it will serve it's purpose." An eerily white, skeletal hand rose from the chairs armrest, a wand held lightly in it's long fingers. "And someone else has now served his whole purpose."

Wormtail gasped and raised his head. "No, my lord! Have I not served you faithfully, even when others had abandoned you? Have I not given you the means to gain what should rightfully be yours?"

"You have. And that was the last service I required of you. Arvada Kedavra."

The fatal words were spoken almost casually. In a rush green light poured from the wand and engulfed the cowering creature on the floor. In less then a second the man was dead.

"Perhaps that was unwise, my lord," Lucius spoke. "He may still have been valuable."

"Wormtail has outlived his usefulness. Eventually he would have betrayed me, and I cannot take that chance." The skeletal hand held up a large piece of parchment, folded many times over. "You may do the honours, my loyal friend and servant."

Lucius grinned and touched his wand lightly to the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Ginny's eyes flew open and she pulled her hand away from Harry's forehead even as the pain there began to subside. Harry's eyes lost their glassy appearance and focused on Ginny's face.

What he saw made him instantly forget the residual pain in his scar and sit up quickly. Her face was ashen and she was trembling. Before he even had a chance to say anything he heard Morgan's voice.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I thought that you could just channel the vision to me and that you would be spared. Evidently I've underestimated the bond between you and Harry."

Harry turned to face his aunt. "You saw all of it?" When Morgan nodded he continued. "Did you recognize it?"

Morgan nodded again. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. The Marauder's Map. A pale imitation of the original, no doubt, but its enough." She stood then and shook her robes back into place. "Harry, I don't want you to go to the hospital wing with this. The last thing we need is for it to be known all over the school that you've suffered an 'attack'. Let's keep this as quiet as possible." She turned to leave the room.

"Wait!" Harry exclaimed.

Morgan stopped but didn't turn. "You'll be fine, Harry. I don't imagine you'll have any more problems tonight. Besides, I need to talk to Remus as soon as I can. He's the only one who can tell me what I need to know." And she swept from the room, closing the door softly behind her.

It seemed like an eternity passed before Ginny spoke. "Come on, let's get you off of the floor." She put a hand under Harry's elbow and helped him rise to his feet. His legs were unsteady so he quickly collapsed onto his bed. Ginny sat beside him, slipping her hand in his. "What was all of that, Harry? I didn't understand any of it."

"Voldemort had Wormtail make him a copy of sorts of the Marauder's Map," Harry said. His throat was dry and his voice rasped, so he risked standing up to pour himself a glass of water from the pitcher beside the window.

"The Marauder's Map?" Ginny asked, obviously puzzled.

"It's a very detailed map of Hogwarts, including the secret passages. But even more important, it can pinpoint the location of everyone in the castle at any given moment." Ginny's jaw dropped and Harry smiled at her stunned expression. "It was made by Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius, and my father. Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs." He reached into his trunk and pulled out the original, touched it with his wand and whispered the incantation.

Ginny gasped as the spidery lines twisted in the center and then branched out and grew until they covered the entire parchment. She noticed two small dots in the fifth year Gryffindor boys dormitory, labeled Harry Potter and Guinevere Weasley. She also saw that Ron and Hermione were still in the prefects meeting in the Great Hall. She tentatively reached out a finger and traced the line of one of the hidden passages.

"That passage caved in about three years ago," Harry said. "There are now only two passages that are useable. This one -" he indicated the tunnel that came out in Honeydukes "- and this one, which has the Shrieking Shack at one end and the Whomping Willow at the other." He touched his wand to the map again. "Mischief managed," he said, and the parchment wiped itself clean.

"So what your saying is that Voldemort now has the knowledge to get inside the Hogwarts grounds, avoiding all the wards and defensive spells."

Harry nodded. He sat back on the bed and wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulders. "And he'll use it, make no mistake." He held her close and leaned his head against hers. "He's coming, Gin. Coming for me."