The Man of the Moment

Chapter Ten: The Mourning After...

That Saturday, Harry got up and completed his ablutions in a somewhat sombre mood hardly befitting a student embarking upon his first weekend of the school term. This was because he had something important to attend- Dumbledore's funeral and Reading. He realised that he was not alone, for every member of his dormitory was getting dressed in a similarly solemn fashion, and were all pulling out their best black robes.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Neville asked, as he brushed his hair neatly into place.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Neville," Harry replied, as he brushed his hair and it sprang up as though he hadn't even bothered to put a comb through it. Ron walked past and patted Harry's shoulder.

"It'll be all right," he said quietly. "He'd have wanted it this way."

"Pity he's not around to ask," Harry spat back, then instantly wished he hadn't.

"Sorry, Ron," he replied, swiftly. "I didn't mean it."

"We're all a bit upset right now," Ron conceded. "Don't worry about it, mate."

They traipsed downstairs to the common room, where they met the rest of the students from Gryffindor House, all dressed in black robes. Harry spotted Hermione's bushy brown hair and Ginny's long red hair in the throng and beckoned Ron and Neville to follow. Dean and Seamus also joined them, and soon enough, the entire number of seventh year Gryffindors were congregated around the Gryffindor common room notice board.

"It's so awful, isn't it?" Lavender sniffed. Parvati nodded, and blew her nose daintily on a handkerchief.

"I haven't stopped crying all morning," she admitted. "I know he died last week, but somehow it didn't seem real. Going to his funeral makes it true."

"I know," Hermione added, numbly.

Persephone entered the common room, and the students began to murmur darkly amongst themselves. On looking at her, Harry saw why. She was not dressed in black robes like the others; instead she wore a set of long white robes that reached down to her ankles, and a bright red headscarf that obscured all her hair from view, save for a small lock that had cascaded down next to her ear.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, suspiciously. "I mean besides the obvious- going to a funeral and all..." she trailed off, and glanced around at the horror-struck students.

"Professor, why aren't you in mourning clothes?" Lavender exclaimed. Persephone looked confused.

"I am," she replied. Then, her face registered realisation.

"Oh, I see. Erm, how do I explain this- I come from a... group of people that have slightly different beliefs. We wear white to funerals, and it is expected that I cover my hair. This is my way of paying respect to the memory of Professor Dumbledore," she explained. The congregation of students seemed mollified by this.

"Right; shall we go down to the Great Hall now?" Persephone asked. They all nodded, and she quietly led the way.

"So, that means Professor Snape will not be wearing black," Hermione whispered to Harry and Ron.

"Most likely, what of it?" Ron asked. Hermione looked at him.

"Won't it look suspicious?" she asked. "The two of them in similar mourning gear?"

Harry shrugged.

"You said yourself there are loads of wizarding tribes. It's just possible people will believe they both happen to be descended from different tribes," he replied. Hermione nodded.

"That's true," she said. "I mean, everyone knows that there are dozens of tribes..."

Ron patted her on the back.

"There's no need to worry about your darling Snape- I'm sure he can look after himself," he teased. Hermione glared at him.

"Oh, shut up, Ron," she hissed.

"Aww! It's so cute, you and your 'Florence...'"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! You say that phrase one more time and I'm going to cut out your stomach and turn it into a bobble hat!" Hermione warned. Ron fought the urge to giggle.

"Don't you just love her when she's angry?" he commented, cheekily, at which Hermione gave him an icy stare, and he promptly calmed himself down.

They reached the Great Hall, which had been decorated with black drapes, and sat down in the seats provided. It was at this point that Harry noticed many other people were in the room, including lots of people from the Ministry, most notably the Minister for Magic himself- or as Harry better knew him, Ron's dad. Ron's mum was there too, dressed in black, along with Bill, Charlie, Fred and George. Harry also spotted Penelope Clearwater, who had laid a bunch of flowers near a rectangular space in the upper centre of the room. Tonks, Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt were also there, and so were many former students of Hogwarts. Mad Eye Moody had also shown up, his normal eye appearing damp with tears, and his magical eye rotating watchfully around the room, as though expecting a sudden attack at any moment. In the corner, in deep conversation with Professor McGonagall, was Neville's Gran, who instead of her usual hat with a dead vulture on it, was wearing a black hat with a stuffed crow perched precariously on its rim. Harry couldn't count them all, for there were so many people. He wasn't entirely surprised by the vast turnout, though, for Dumbledore was a respected and popular wizard. It seemed fitting that so many people had come to mourn him.

The teachers all sat at the High Table, and Harry noticed the large raised rectangular platform in the space between the house tables and the High Table, had now acquired a immense variety of flowers. He looked up at the High Table, and saw that the teachers were dressed in black robes with black pointed hats, and were looking thoroughly distressed. Alex Ridley had a small black net across her hat that obscured her eyes from view. Snape, Harry noticed, was very distinctive, for although he was in his usual black robes, he was wearing white gloves and a red kerchief around his neck. He also had a broad band of white cloth around the brim of his pointed wizards hat. Harry watched as he tucked a loose lock of Persephone's black hair under her red headscarf, and gestured towards its fabric. It seemed to Harry that he was enquiring where she had obtained such an item of clothing. Hagrid was crying noisily into a huge handkerchief, whilst Professor Flitwick was patting him on the shoulder in a display of grave concern.

McGonagall stood up, and the already quiet hall grew so silent, you would have heard a pin drop, had such an occurrence actually happened. Slowly, the raised platform in the upper centre of the Great Hall grew in height, and turned into an ornate box decorated in purple and silver. Harry nearly jumped out his skin when he realised what it was. It was Dumbledore's coffin.

"If anybody wishes to see the body and pay their last respects- now is the time to do so. The ceremony will commence shortly," she announced, before sitting down. A few people got up to see the coffin, but most stayed in their seats, clearly upset by the whole affair. Harry noticed some of the Slytherins were muttering darkly amongst themselves.

"Do you want to go and see him?" Hermione asked, softly. Harry nodded.

"Yeah," he replied, and he, Ron and Hermione went up to the coffin.

"Wait!" Neville said. Harry whirled round to face him.

"I want to come too," Neville said, and joined their group.

Ginny was already in front of them in the queue.

"I thought I ought to..." She trailed off, and Harry could see that she had been crying. He tentatively put a hand on her shoulder.

"So did we," he replied, quietly, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.

"I keep expecting him to jump out of the coffin and say it was all a joke," Ron mumbled, hoarsely.

"We all want him back, Ron," Hermione added, kindly.

The queue moved down, and soon enough, Harry found himself face-to-face with Dumbledore's coffin. The top half of the lid was open, providing a clear view of Dumbledore's body. Cautiously, Harry leant over to see him. He was dressed in his finest robes, and his skin looked pale and waxy. His eyes were closed, and for a brief moment, Harry could trick himself into believing he was just asleep, and would wake up at any moment; open his bright blue eyes and smile at Harry like the grandfather he had never had.

"Goodbye, sir," Harry whispered, and leant over to kiss his former Headmaster's forehead. Dumbledore remained serene and asleep. Harry quickly wiped an escaping tear away from his eye with his robe sleeve, and stared steadfastly at the floor, as Ron and Hermione came forward to pay their respects. Unable to bear the sound of Hermione's own tears, he walked over to Ginny, who was inspecting one of the floral displays that had been left by many mourners. She was visibly upset by what she had seen.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked. Ginny pointed silently at the offending bunch of flowers. Harry didn't understand why they had bothered her, unless she had a particular aversion to lilies. It was then that he noticed the card, tucked away beneath the flowers. He lifted it up and read it.

In loving memory of Albus Dumbledore; professor, tutor and protector. We will never forget what you have done for us.

Love, Penelope and Percy

"Well, I see Percy didn't even bother to turn up," Ron commented, scathingly. Harry sighed.

"He didn't forget," he said, and pointed at the card he had just read. Ron paled slightly.

"Why didn't he just come?" he asked, quietly.

"I guess he didn't want to face any of us," Ginny said, her voice quavering. Hermione deftly took her by the arm and lead her back to their seats, offering words of comfort that Harry could never have thought up in such a short space of time. He and Ron followed, and sat down in their seats next to Hermione, who was now cradling Ginny's head in her lap.

"Hi, how are you doing?" a voice suddenly asked, and Harry instantly recognised its dreamy quality as belonging to Luna.

"Oh, hi, Luna. We're okay, thanks," Harry said. Luna scrutinised him.

"No you're not," she whispered. "You've been crying."

"Really, I'm fine," Harry protested. Luna shrugged.

"Oh well, if you want a tissue, you have only to ask," she said, pointing to her black hat, which had a number of black silk handkerchiefs knotted to the brim.

"I thought they might come in handy," she explained. Ron just stared at them in bewilderment.

"You've thought of everything, haven't you, Luna?" he said, hollowly. She smiled proudly.

"I even have a map of the area," she added. Ron looked dubiously at her.

"What would you need a map of the area for? We all know where the funeral is- we just needed to follow the huge throng of mourners!" he exclaimed, albeit quietly. Luna smiled sagely.

"Not necessarily," she pointed out. "Dad and I went to Great Aunt Lillith's funeral a few years ago, except we ended up in the wrong place. There were all these people we'd never seen before, talking about what a brave man Nigel Berringford was. We didn't have a clue who this Nigel was, although he sounded like a lovely man- he had raised thousands of Galleons for the Carlotta Children's' Charity. Anyway, by the time we realised, it was too late to just leave, because Nigel's funeral had started, and it would have been terribly bad form. We just had to sit there and look mournful. Dad was really close to bursting out laughing, I could tell. In the end, we managed to sneak off during the Reading. We only just made Great-Aunt Lillith's ceremony!"

Harry didn't know what to say, so he just smiled.

"That was a close call," he managed to cough out. Ron merely gawped at her.

"You attended the funeral of a complete stranger?" he gasped. Luna shrugged it off.

"I bet it's happened to lots of people," she replied. "Anyway, I'm glad I paid my respects to Nigel- he deserved it for all the good work he did in his life, and for raising two daughters on his own."

Thankfully, McGonagall tapping on the lectern in front of her interrupted Luna's anecdote, at which the murmuring crown fell silent.

"Good afternoon everybody," she announced. "We are gathered here today to pay our last respects to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore; Professor, Headmaster and, more importantly, friend. He was known to many, and loved by many, for his fairness and brilliant mind. As you are all no doubt aware, he chaired the International Confederation of Wizards for thirty years- save for a brief stint out of office- and he did so with an even hand and a clear mind. He had been Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot for a similar duration, and had never been anything less than just and compassionate. He was also a brilliant alchemist, and one of his most notable discoveries concerned the twelve uses for dragon's blood. Which, I am certain almost every last one of us learned from our first Chocolate Frog as a child."

There was a murmur of fond laughter at this remark. McGonagall smiled sadly, then continued.

"Yet, for all of his achievements, one can sometimes neglect his most remarkable one. Albus Dumbledore had probably the biggest heart of any man I've ever met. He turned down the offer of becoming Minister for Magic for one reason- he loved working with children. One time, we were chatting in the staff room over a pot of tea, and I was complaining about how many unruly children I had to deal with in my class- in fact, I think two of my most troublesome are sitting here today," she said, and winked at Fred and George, before progressing with the speech.

"Do you know what he said? He said, 'But, Minerva, that's why we do it, isn't it? Every child we praise for effort and cleverness, as well as each one we punish for cheek and craftiness, has a spark that will carry them forward to do many and varied wonderful things in life- and we are privileged enough to have a hand in such development. The one thing you can be certain about children, is that they will always surprise you- sometimes for the worse, but more often for the better.' You see, that's exactly why Albus loved to teach. He believed in people. He believed that there was more to a person than the way they were born, or the circumstances in which they were brought up. He believed in second chances- he believed in giving one the opportunity to prove one's own worth, and he was almost always rewarded richly for his determination where others might have given up. In all the years I've known him, he had never failed to be impressed, amused and humbled by his students all at once. I say this to you, because I feel strongly that we should continue in his efforts, and make him proud, wherever he may be right now."

McGonagall nodded, and sat down. The Great Hall burst into respectful, but enthusiastic, clapping. Harry heard Draco mutter, "Wherever he may be? He's in a coffin. Soon, he'll be ashes- what's it to him?" to Pansy, who was trying to smother her giggles. Harry, in a way, felt sympathetic towards Pansy; for while she was trying very hard not to laugh, Harry was trying very hard not to burst Draco's head open with a well-aimed hex.

"Malfoy, shut up!" Hermione hissed. Draco smirked.

"Not all of us have to be upset that Muggle-loving fool has pegged it, Granger," he whispered back, nastily. Harry noticed that Neville was clenching his fists very hard indeed.

Hagrid got up and stood in front of the lectern, which only reached his waist. He coughed a little, then pulled out a bunch of tattered pieces of parchment and began to read from them.

"Mornin', ev'ryone. I jus' wanted ter say a few words abou' Pr'essor Dumbledore. 'E was a kind man, and 'e's bin really good teh me..."

"Oh great," Draco drawled from behind Harry. "Now we get to hear that big oaf stumble his way through a pathetic speech."

Ron glared at him.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy!" he spat. Draco sniggered.

"Oh, well now I'm really scared, Weasel!" he mocked.

At the front of the Great Hall, Hagrid had stared to cry again. He was apologising profusely for his tears, but every time he tried to carry on reading, his friendly black eyes would well up with tears again, and he was rendered incapable of speech. Harry watched as Alex stood up and patted Hagrid kindly on the arm, before taking the parchment off him and stepping forward to the lectern.

"I thought I would read Rubeus' words out to you, although I think his actions speak much louder that any oration could about how much Albus Dumbledore will be missed..."

"Oh great!" Draco grumbled to Pansy. "Ridley's accent is just as bad as Hagrid's! Watch out if you happen to have a name with more than two syllables and some vowels in the middle, for they'll just be lost to her tongue. Perseph'ney, Hermi'ney, Sev'ress- their grasp of the English language is pitiable!"

Harry was about to lean over and attempt to poke one of Draco's eyes out, except that he was distracted by Neville's sudden harsh whisper of, "Silencio!"

Draco opened his mouth to say something, except that no noise actually came out. He tried again, and then glared at Neville. He appeared to be mouthing some threat as to exactly what he would hex Neville with, at which Neville shrugged his shoulders and whispered, "Sorry, Malfoy, I can't hear what you're saying."

Luna silently howled with mirth. It was an incredibly bizarre sight to behold, for Luna's mouth was wide open, and tears of laughter were cascading from her eyes. She eventually took off her hat and buried her entire face in it.

"I hate funerals," she moaned quietly into the hat. "Something hilarious always happens at them, and you can't laugh, which makes the whole thing even funnier!"

Harry merely patted her comfortingly on the shoulder, and hoped she wouldn't notice his or Ron's expressions of incomprehension. He also tried to ignore the scathing looks they kept receiving from the students around him, and smiled sheepishly at them in an attempt to defuse the situation. Luna, as was her custom, appeared oblivious to the unwanted attention.

"...I'd like us to remember the fond times we shared with Albus, and smile as we do so, because I think he would have wanted it that way. Thank you," Alex finished the speech, and sat down. Harry clapped enthusiastically, though he was irritated that Malfoy's behaviour had made him miss Hagrid's words.

Suddenly, he became aware of Ron nudging him sharply in the ribs.

"Here, Harry," he whispered. "My dad's getting up!"

Hermione tutted.

"Ron, he's the Minister for Magic- you would expect him to say something about Dumbledore's death!" she replied. Ron flushed red briefly.

"Yeah, well, I sometimes forget he's the Minister for Magic now. He's just Dad to me," he replied, and for a brief moment, Harry thought he saw Hermione flash a very warm smile in Ron's direction, only he had turned to watch the High Table a second before she did it. Harry followed Ron's gaze, and saw Mr. Weasley was standing in front of the lectern, clearing his throat.

"Well, I feel there is very little I can say now that hasn't already been expressed by the staff here at Hogwarts, and far more eloquently that I ever could, although I would like to mention that with two of my own children currently studying for their N.E.W.T.s here, I feel confident as a parent, as well as a minister, of Professor McGonagall's ability to follow in Albus' footsteps as Head of this school."

The congregation clapped enthusiastically, and Harry was sure Draco would have been griping behind him about Mr. Weasley, had he been able to speak.

"I suppose all that is left for me to do now is to talk about Dumbledore's achievements as a protector of the wizarding world, something which I feel is very apt, considering the situation we are currently facing. Albus Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald in 1945, and during the seventies, when Voldemort-" Here, many of the crowd collectively winced. "...rose for the first time, he was there, ensuring his students were safe from harm and assisting the Ministry in their defensive efforts. Now for those of you who were around during that time, I've no doubt you are aware of the dangers we are facing. I assure you, Albus Dumbledore taught by example, and in the Ministry, he now has many devoted students. We will not let his death signal the death of his ideals. Thank you."

The crowd applauded with great enthusiasm, and Harry noticed Ron sit up a little straighter in his seat. Hermione smiled, and leant over Harry to whisper to Ron.

"Admit it; you're proud of him, aren't you?" she teased. Ron shrugged.

"Might be," he replied evasively, but with a smile.

At that point, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout and Hagrid walked towards the coffin, and gently closed the lid. It emitted a loud flatulence noise, and the students, unable to help it, burst out laughing. Harry saw McGonagall mouth, "One of Albus' last little jokes, I feel," to Flitwick, who was smiling wistfully. Once the congregation had calmed down, they picked up the coffin and held it above the platform. McGonagall pointed her wand at the platform, and muttered an incantation; almost instantaneously, the platform burned with fierce blue flames. The four placed the coffin back down into the fires, and it caught fire, and began to burn. The congregation watched the display in reverent silence, until the coffin had burned down to nothing but ashes.

Harry sat staring at the space where Dumbledore had been just ten minutes ago, and felt empty. He had really gone. His bright blue eyes would never twinkle with mischief again. He would never again offer a student a sweet, nor would he address the school at the beginning and end of every year... Never again would he shed a tear for Harry.

He was distracted from his reverie by a giant hand thumping him hard on the back.

"How're yer copin', Harry?" Hagrid asked, his eyes red and swollen from crying. Harry nodded.

"I'm okay," he replied. Hagrid beamed.

"Glad teh hear it," he said. "Did you like my speech?"

Harry blushed.

"To be honest, Hagrid, I didn't get to hear it," he admitted. Hagrid looked a little crestfallen.

"Oh, I was sorta hopin' to get yer approval on it," he replied.

"If it makes you feel any better, I missed it because me and Neville were attacking Malfoy for being rude throughout the ceremony," Harry added. Hagrid looked cautiously around, and then beamed.

"That nasty ferret of a kid? Yer know something? It does," he replied, chortling, before getting up. Harry looked at him.

"Are you going already?" he asked. Hagrid bent down to whisper in his ear.

"We all are. Have you seen the time?" he asked, pointing at his watch. It was a quarter to five.

Harry gasped.

"Oh, the Reading!" he exclaimed. Hagrid nodded.

"Exactly. We'd best get goin'," he said. Harry looked around for Hermione and Ron, and saw that they were following Persephone out of the hall. He and Hagrid hurried after them.

A quick Floo ride later, and Harry found himself in an old, rickety pub with dark wooden beams and scuffed tables. He pulled out his wand, and was about to cast some light over the dingy area so he could at least see where everyone was, when he felt someone grip his arm.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione chivvied, grabbing him tightly by the sleeve and dragging him outside. The street was cobbled and narrow- for a moment, Harry thought he was in a wizarding area, but that theory was soon quashed.

"For Merlin's sake, boy, put your wand away!" Moody hissed. "I know we're in Edinburgh, but that doesn't mean every single Muggle here's going to be horrendously drunk!"

Harry looked down at his hand, and saw he was gripping his wand. He hastily tucked it away into his robe pocket.

"Sorry," he said, feebly.

"Now, if it was Hogmanay at the moment, I could see your point," Moody replied. Harry looked up and down the street, and saw that what appeared to be the entire Order of the Phoenix were gathered in this narrow, cobbled street with many dark passageways. In the distance, he could see a great castle up on the top of the hill, and the street he was currently standing on led up to it. There were many people milling about, and Harry was surprised that they didn't notice the large group of wizards walking along the street.

"It's very picturesque here, isn't it?" Hermione commented, linking arms with Harry as she did so.

"Yeah, it looks nice," he replied. Ron quickly joined them both.

"Wow, can you believe this? They've got more pubs on this street than I think I've ever seen!" he enthused, as they followed the crowd of wizards looking for 354 Castlehill at the top of the Royal Mile.

"Found it!" Tonks shouted, pointing at a building, and the crowd ground to a halt. She looked up and down the street warily, and then looked up at the building she was pointing to, and frowned.

"Wait, this can't be right..." She trailed off, and looked at her map. She frowned.

"What's the matter, Tonks?" Persephone asked. Tonks pointed up at the sign above the building. Harry craned his neck, and saw it read 'The Scotch Whiskey Heritage Centre'.

Persephone examined the top of the door.

"Well, that's the right address," she confirmed. But it can't be..."

Lupin walked to the front of the crowd.

"No, this is the right place," he announced. Everyone looked bemused, except for Alex, who rubbed her hands together in glee.

"Excellent; Albus definitely had the right idea," she said, looking across at Snape briefly, who didn't seem particularly amused. Hagrid caught her eye, and grinned.

"Ne'er had you down as a whiskey drinker, Alex," he commented. Alex grinned.

"Ah, yes, I do enjoy the odd glass," she replied.

"Or seven," Persephone whispered under her breath, and Alex nudged her sharply in the ribs.

"Why in the name of Merlin would you pick somewhere so obviously full of Muggles?" Snape asked, in a slightly contemptuous voice. "Aren't we in the business of keeping these things secret?"

"Yeah, but most of the people who are in this place will be so intoxicated, they'll put anything they see down to over-indulgence," Alex replied blithely, as Lupin tapped his wand against the door, which was flanked either side by two brick columns.

"That's a dangerous assumption, Ridley," Moody pointed out.

Suddenly, a small puddle of black ooze formed in the centre of the doorway, and Lupin put his face near it.

"Oi, Elphias, you in there, old fellow? I've got your bananas and Thestral wings!" he shouted, inexplicably.

Suddenly, one of the brick columns shifted, and revealed a purple door. Lupin opened it, and walked through. The others followed, until Harry, Ron and Hermione also reached the door, and clambered through. Once Hermione, who was the last person in the group, had gone through, the door promptly shut and dissolved away.

"You know something? I'm really glad I'm not claustrophobic," Hermione commented. Harry understood what she meant; although the room wasn't overly small, there were no visible door, windows, or escape routes of any kind.

"Hmm, this is rather intimate," Kingsley Shacklebolt commented, whilst Moody was busy examining the walls for signs of curses and wards.

Elphias Doge was standing at the front of the room, tending to a large cauldron that rested on a flat red mat.

"Sit down, sit down, we're ready to begin," he urged, cajoling people towards seats. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat together next to Persephone, who offered them a smile.

"You three okay?" she mouthed, and Harry gave her a thumbs-up.

"We're fine," he replied, just as Alex plonked herself next to Persephone.

"Bloody hell, this is doing my head in!" she groaned. "These patches are really itchy..."

"How long has it been now?" Persephone asked. Alex looked at her watch.

"Two hundred and forty-six hours," she announced, proudly. Persephone raised an eyebrow.

"And yet you haven't started counting in days?"

Alex looked at her boots momentarily, before glaring at Persephone.

"It's harder than you might think," she retorted whilst scratching her upper arm, as Snape sat down next to her. This prompted Harry to think that there must be an exact number of seats available. Looking around, he saw this to be the case. The Weasleys, minus Ron, were sitting together with Tonks and Lupin. Kingsley and Moody were sat nearby, and somewhere in the corner; Harry saw a very familiar figure. For a moment, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him and Dumbledore was seated in the room, then he noticed that his countenance was much grumpier than Dumbledore's. Harry presumed this must be Dumbledore's brother Aberforth. He did look a little odd, although Harry couldn't exactly work out why. There was just something a little out-of-kilter about him; in fact, he looked exactly the kind of person who would find themselves being prosecuted for performing inappropriate charms on goats. Harry shuddered involuntarily at the thought.

Elphias Doge cleared his throat.

"Witches and wizards, may I have your attention, please?" he asked, and the crowd quietened down.

"Today we have gathered for the last Reading of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Now, seeing as we already held a funeral, I shall dispense with any further words, and simply commence the Reading."

Elphias Doge picked up what looked to Harry like Dumbledore's half-moon glasses, and dropped them in the cauldron. A large whooshing sound occurred upon their contact with the liquid, and suddenly, huge blue globules of liquid flew out of the cauldron and across the room, in much the same way as during Sirius' Reading last year. Harry, Ron and Hermione quickly ducked under their chairs until the whole debacle had subsided. When they eventually got up from beneath their seats, the scrolls had already been written by the magical quills containing the liquid from the cauldron, and a large piece of parchment had attached itself to the back wall of the room, and currently had no writing on it. A quill jumped into the cauldron and drew up a large amount of the bluish liquid, before floating up to the top of the parchment. As it began to write, Elphias read the words it left out loud.

"As I have distributed my material possessions through the scrolls here on this mat, my main concerns here lie with The Order of the Phoenix. We are currently in a very precarious situation, and I need you all to band together in order to ensure victory. Voldemort has begun his offensive with gusto, as I know you are all aware. I intend to sort out my affairs concerning the war, which is why you will find Persephone Beauchamp and Alexandra Ridley amongst our number. They are here as representatives for the Brethren, and also... well, you'll find out as we go along."

Elphias cleared his throat again and sipped from a glass of water he conjured into his hand.

"You may also wonder why there are three Hogwarts pupils sitting in on this meeting. This I shall answer now. The case for Harry Potter being here should be obvious- like it or not, he is a key figure in this war, and he must be protected at all costs- and I have come to realise that informing, not sheltering, him is probably the best method in accomplishing this, and consequently wish for him to be in attendance at all relevant Order meetings. By the same measure, his two best friends should also be present; for I am not naïve enough to believe that every snippet of information Harry learns does not reach their ears as well. I also have some rather specific tasks for both Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, and so I would like them to have a little background as to why they have been assigned such responsibilities."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other with concern. Harry noticed that Persephone and Alex were steadfastly looking at the parchment on the wall, and avoiding the suspicious glances being directed at them from various members of the crowd. Elphias Doge continued to read.

"First of all, I would like to outline the situation as it stands. We are currently working with both the Ministry for Magic and the Brethren of Tyr. Voldemort's Death Eaters are being flushed out of their positions in the Ministry, but many of them are evading capture and are certainly causing plenty of damage- one only has to pick up a copy of the Daily Prophet to see this. The strategy we have been working on will not be enough, and changes will have to be made. I have confidence in all of you to rise to this challenge, but I place a few conditions on your evolution. First of all, I require you to adhere to the information I have left each of you individually, in the form of the scrolls on this mat below. Secondly, I feel I ought to remind you just how important it is to continue our efforts to gain the trust and comradeship of many of our fellow species. I know the Brethren have a head start on us in this respect, and I hope they will persist in making progress here. Thirdly, I implore you to put aside any of your differences and to trust each other. I am aware of a few... tensions within the Order, and I remind you once more that if we are divided, it will lead to our downfall. Fourthly, I wish to impress upon you the importance of Minerva's position as Headmistress of Hogwarts. She has the power to influence all decisions made there, and to protect all the students that currently attend. I harbour concerns that there may be attempts to remove her from the place, as there appear to have been to remove me; if this demands extra security, then so be it. Use your discretion. The school must be protected; it has psychological implications, for if Voldemort can take the school, he will have the ability to shape the next generation, and he will also have achieved what he could not in the past. We must not let this happen..."

"Doesn't ask much, does he?" Ron joked. "I always knew death wouldn't stop him, not really."

Harry smiled. Despite Ron's lack of subtlety, his words comforted him, for it forced Harry to realise just how organised in mind Dumbledore had been. Besides, hadn't Dumbledore once said, "Death is but the next great adventure"?

Elphias was still determinedly reading aloud.

"...Voldemort will also strongly suspect her of taking my place concerning secret-keeping for the Order, and as such, must be protected. This leads me to my last point. Democracy does not yield fast decisions. It is imperative that you have one person that will finalise all decisions made within the Order, and that you must all, in effect, accept as your leader, and also as secret keeper for the Order. For this task, I have chosen..." Elphias Doge stopped reading, and simply stared at the parchment in shock. Harry noticed that the rest of the congregation had done exactly the same thing. A few of them muttered darkly amongst themselves. Harry turned to share this with Ron and Hermione, only to find that they were also staring at the parchment.

"Oh, dear," Hermione said, quietly. Harry read the parchment, and saw the name 'Alexandra Ridley' emblazoned across it. Dumbledore had picked Alex as his successor.

He sighed loudly- no wonder people looked so annoyed. Alex was one of the newest members of the Order, and even then, she wasn't a full member- she controlled an entirely different organisation!

Elphias began to stammer.

"I... I will not accept any complaints about my decision. Alex is more experienced than any of you at heading operations; she is capable, wily and cool-headed in a crisis. She also knows better than anyone I've met how to get the best out of people. Voldemort does not yet know of her involvement with this war- this alone should ensure that the secrecy of the Order's work continues. I insist you respect this decision as you have all my others- Alex, I have included more vital information in your scroll."

Harry glanced across at Alex, who looked numb with shock, and wondered briefly what information Dumbledore might have left her that he didn't deem necessary to share with the rest of the Order.

"Well," Lupin said calmly, as the resentful murmurs became more pronounced. "If Dumbledore believes Alex should have the final say on our plans, he no doubt has good reasons..."

"It's ridiculous!" Emmeline Vance exclaimed, and Lupin grimaced. Almost as soon as the words were out, the entire gathering angrily voiced their opinions.

"I just can't believe it!"

"Why would he do such a thing?"

"What's wrong with Alastor- he's a veteran Auror..."

"Or even Minerva; she has been the Deputy Head of Hogwarts for years!"

"Or, perhaps, our own Minister for Magic?"

"It's a bloody outrage!" Moody growled suddenly, his magical eye swivelling to point in Alex's direction. Everyone fell silent. Alex looked back at him.

"If you have a problem with me and my organisation, Alastor, please voice it," she replied evenly.

"Now you're putting words into my mouth," Moody retorted. "I don't have a problem with you and your organisation per se, but I do have a problem when you insinuate yourselves into our own! Was this your plan all along? Get rid of Dumbledore and take control?" he demanded. Alex looked at him contemptuously.

"I have my own tightly run ship, thank you, Alastor," she spat. "I'm hardly in need of another. And besides, what could I possibly have to gain by Dumbledore's passing? He's the reason we're all still alive to enter into the second round of this hell; I'd be cutting off my nose to spite my face!"

"Alexandra has had fifteen years experience of a command position," Snape added suddenly. "I would presume Albus took that into account..."

"I've spent decades heading teams of Aurors!" Moody snapped back. "The Order has plenty of people with vast experience in their field..."

"Well, that's the whole point, isn't it?" Persephone retorted. "You're all experienced in running small parts of organisations- that's my bag, too. Al here is the only person I can think of who has any idea of how to run lots of small parts of organisations, with efficiency and a certain level of amalgamation. Besides- it's the perfect bluff, isn't it? Voldemort will suspect Minerva to be your secret keeper..."

"Does it bloody matter?" a grumpy voice bellowed. Everyone looked across at the source of the noise, and Harry saw Aberforth Dumbledore lift himself out of his chair.

"Excuse me?" Elphias Doge spluttered. Aberforth looked languidly at him.

"I said, does it bloody well matter, are you deaf as well as stupid?" he hollered. Elphias blinked a couple of times in surprise.

"Well, yes, it does matter," he replied as courteously as he could. "You aren't seriously suggesting that Miss Ridley here..."

"I'm suggesting that Miss Ridley here may well be the best damn strategist the world has ever seen, or she could be a batty little wench who couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery. It doesn't matter one bleedin' jot, because this is what Albus wants. And what Albus wants, he shall bloody well get!"

"Here, here!" Hagrid spoke up.

"But she hasn't got any experience of working under the pressure of a war!" Moody countered. "It's a bit different from leading in a time of peace!"

"Alastor has got a point," Mr. Weasley offered, kindly. "I'm not trying to belittle your expertise, Alexandra, but I'm discovering myself that things are a lot more difficult to handle. I suppose we were expecting someone with more experience of such a situation. I was a father during the first War..."

"So was Severus," Alex retorted. " I don't see you asking for his advice."

Snape rolled his eyes.

"Why, thank you; let's do bring that particularly sensitive confidence up as often as possible," he snapped.

"Severus, we all know about it," Lupin said. Snape glared at him.

"Well, that certainly wasn't my idea," he retorted. Harry looked across as Persephone, who's expression was unreadable.

"This isn't the issue," she said quickly. McGonagall stood up.

"Quite right; the issue here is Albus' orders, and I agree..."

"Have any of you been abducted by Voldemort's forces?" Alex asked, quietly. The question was met with stunned silence.

"The Aurors' success has involved preventing such occurrences from happening," Kingsley said, calmly. Moody, however, laughed harshly.

"Now you're being daft, woman! Nobody he got hold of lived to tell the tale," he scoffed, whilst Mr. Weasley nodded in agreement.

"Well, I did!" Alex shouted back, and the entire crowd fell silent. Harry looked across at Persephone, who appeared rather embarrassed by the whole affair. Tonks and Lupin also looked just as uncomfortable. Mr. Weasley turned red and coughed a little.

"You were... when?" he asked, quietly. Alex sighed, whilst fiddling with her wand. She held it between her index and middle fingers and put it momentarily to her lips.

"I was fifteen. I don't know why- I only know I got out." Harry noticed she briefly glanced across at where Snape was sitting, but nobody else seemed to.

"They took me whilst I was in a fight outside a Muggle concert. Some white kids were giving me grief. Me and my mates got into a right barney with them; there was a nasty fight, but that was par for the course. That's when they came, just when I was about to get my head kicked in by some git who thought that his race made him superior to me..." She stopped suddenly, and the entire crowd looked quizzically at her.

"The point I'm making is," she continued, "when I got that letter telling me I was enrolled in Beaubaxtons, and the Deputy-Head explained it all, I thought it might be the last time I had to deal with people treating me differently because of my skin colour. Instead, it turned out I merely exchanged one kind of racism for another- instead of white supremacists, I got Pureblood ones, who weren't simply content with beating seven bells out of us...." She paused, and eyed Mr. Weasley and Moody hotly. "So, don't you stand there and tell me I don't know how to deal with this sudden onslaught of persecution- I've dealt with it all my life!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged anxious glances. Mr. Weasley and Moody looked rather ashamed to Harry. He glanced around the rest of the members of the Order, and they were equally subdued.

"Alexandra, I'm sorry," Mr. Weasley said, looking her in the eye. "I didn't realise... I had no idea you had experienced anything like that during the first War; you would have only become an adult once it was all over..."

"I understand, Arthur," Alex replied. "I'm not trying to be a martyr. I didn't ask for this job; I'm just trying to point out that Albus obviously chose me for a reason, and I intend to honour his decision."

Persephone rolled her eyes and clapped lethargically.

"Good! Have we finished arguing now? Only it's getting late, and I need to feed Frank," she said, tartly. Snape looked at her.

"Frank?" he asked.

"Yes, my dog. I took him to Hogwarts with me- he's sleeping in my office," she replied. Snape looked horrified.

"You brought your dog to Hogwarts? What in Merlin's name gave you that idea?" he queried, somewhat aggressively. Persephone brushed off his threatening manner.

"Well, what with the extensive grassland and forest for him to run around in, I figured it would be quite nice for him," she replied sardonically. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Need I remind you that you have an office on the seventh floor of Gryffindor Tower?" he sneered.

"Severus, it's a dog, not a quadriplegic!" she retorted. "He can climb up and down stairs, you know. In fact, as he's tetra-pedal, he's better adapted to them than we are."

Harry noticed that everyone else had ceased in their arguing, and now looked incredibly uncomfortable. It suddenly struck Harry that what he had always assumed to be Snape and Persephone being... well, Snape and Persephone, was thought to be something a lot more serious by everyone else in the room.

"Look, maybe we should discuss this another time. We've had a long, stressful day, and emotions are running high. Let's all sleep on it, and reconvene tomorrow- does that sound like a good idea?" Alex suggested. The crowd grudgingly agreed, and Elphias started to hand out the scrolls to each person in a far less ceremonial manner than had occurred at Sirius' funeral. On receiving his, Harry opened it and read the contents.

Dear Harry,

I feel I must apologise first of all for simply not being here in what is going to be a very difficult time for you. I console myself in the knowledge that you have a vast core of people who will move Heaven and earth to ensure your safety and well-being. I hope you can, too.

I also wish to impress upon you the importance of attending the Order meetings that concern you and your position in the war. I have no doubt that Alex Ridley has been appointed Transfiguration teacher in place of Professor McGonagall's expected promotion. She will ensure you are kept well informed, as I'm sure Professor Beauchamp and Professor McGonagall will as well. Feel free to tell Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger everything you want to about what is happening; for I am a firm believer that a problem shared is a problem halved, providing you choose your confidantes carefully.

May good fortune shine on you in this dark hour,

Albus Dumbledore x x x

P.S. I have a favour to ask of you- please find time in the next week to inform Madam Hooch that you wish to captain the Gryffindor Quidditch team; I'm sure your new Head of House will appreciate a little help in showing her father what she is made of.

He looked across at Ron, who was busy reading his own scroll. Hermione, likewise, was scrutinising hers as though she was astounded by the contents.

"How on earth am I going to manage that?" she whispered to herself, leaning against the nearby wall. Her expression brightened a little upon making eye contact with Harry.

"Oh, Harry," she asked, "what did your scroll say?"

"It was basically a message telling me to take care and that I will be protected in this, my darkest hour," Harry replied, with a hint of bitterness in his voice. Not for the first time, he guiltily wished that Voldemort had put him second on his list. Hermione squeezed his arm tightly.

"He's just making clear what Ron and I have always said- you will never be alone in this, Harry," she whispered into his ear, and Harry felt both comforted and unnerved by her words. The graveness of her tone of voice merely reminded him that he really was in a whole lot of danger.

Ron wandered over to them, and appeared most perturbed.

"Blimey!" he exclaimed. "Do you know what Dumbledore wants us to do?"

Harry shook his head.

"Go on, tell us," he urged, in the hope that it might take his mind off things. Ron unrolled the parchment.

"He reckons, as Head Boy and Head Girl, we should be able to 'unite the school in this time of crisis'. How are we going to manage that? I hardly suspect his wish excludes the Slytherins!" Ron sighed, and leant his head against Hermione's. She seemed a little surprised by the contact.

"Well, what about Szeto Ang?" she suggested. "We may be able to get somewhere with his year..."

"Hermione," Ron said in a weary voice, "he fancies you. That tactic won't work unless we make a love potion or something..."

"He does not!" Hermione retorted. Ron snorted.

"Yeah, 'course not," he replied, rolling his eyes.

Harry looked across the room, and saw Persephone walking towards him, scroll in hand, and casting concerned looks over her shoulder. He soon saw why, for Alex was sat on her haunches, scrutinising the scroll she had received with an expression of both grave concern, and what appeared to be mild indignation. Harry turned away to look up at Persephone just as Snape began to walk in Alex's direction, only to be accosted by McGonagall.

"Hey, Harry- everything okay?" Persephone asked, nodding towards the scroll.

"Yeah, everything's fine," he replied. "How about you?"

"Oh, yeah, fine," she said. "Dumbledore's left me a bunch of files he thinks might help me with 'Operation Dog Star'," she announced, with a wink. "Plus, he's got a bunch of magical contraptions he wants me to give to Faith. I think he really felt for her."

Harry nodded solemnly, then pointed towards Alex.

"What's the matter with her?" he asked. Persephone shrugged, and exhaled sharply through pursed lips.

"She won't tell me," she replied. "Whatever it is in that scroll that's bothered her, I hope it isn't too dire."

Harry looked across at where Alex was musing over Dumbledore's words, and saw Snape and McGonagall were engaged in a discreet, though heated, debate only yards from where she sat.

"C'mon, you three," Persephone said, beckoning Ron and Hermione over. "We need to get back to Hogwarts. Your housemates will be wondering where you are; and I need to see to Frank. Remus?"

Lupin turned from his intense discussion with Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt, and looked up at Persephone.

"Yes?"

"Where's the nearest fireplace around here?"

Lupin pointed towards the far corner of the room.

"Just tap your wand three times against the vertices of the skirting board; it'll show up," he replied. Persephone clapped him on the back.

"Cheers, Lupe," she said, before leading Harry, Ron and Hermione towards the corner of the room.

"Hold on, Persephone; I'd just like to speak to Lupin, please," Harry said. Persephone nodded.

"Sure thing," she replied.

Lupin was still looking at Persephone, and wearing possibly the fakest smile Harry had ever seen him put on- he had known about him long enough to understand the difference between the genuinely pleased Lupin, and the one that feigns it to prevent causing a fuss. Once he noticed Harry was stood next to him, and alone, he dropped the act instantaneously.

"Oh, that woman!" he hissed, his shoulders tensing with vexation. Kingsley Shacklebolt turned around and laughed heartily.

"Careful, Remus- you'll do your back in," he joked. Lupin did not look amused.

"She turns arrogance into an art form!" he sighed, shaking his head indignantly. He glanced across at Harry, and his expression appeared somewhat guilty.

"I'm sorry, Harry- I know she's your half-sister, but... every time I so much as hear her voice, I start to grind my teeth. I can't help it; it's subconscious. The way things are going, I shan't have to worry about taking Wolfsbane Potion anymore, 'cause there won't be any teeth left for me to bite people with!"

Lupin trailed off, and looked deeply ashamed- as though he had said far more than he had planned to. Harry thought he had no need to feel embarrassed. Much as he liked his sister, the fact that he had seen Lupin behave in a manner not congruent with his usual calm, serene demeanour made Harry feel pleased he thought enough of him not to shelter him from it.

"I just wanted to say goodbye; I've got to go back to Hogwarts now," Harry explained. Lupin's weary looking face creased into a smile, and he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Just you take care, Harry," he said warmly, "and if you have anything you want to ask me, or even just want to chat, you have only to owl me, okay?"

"You too, and don't worry, I will," Harry replied, before he left Lupin's company and walked towards the now visible fireplace, ready to return to a Hogwarts without Dumbledore, and all the uncertainties that entailed.