Harry Potter and the Legend of the Four Founders

Chapter 3

The Powers of Sixteen-Year-Olds

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon feeling elated, until he and Ron were called to dinner. When they entered the kitchen, they found that Professor Lupin had stayed and that Mr. Weasley and Percy had returned from work. As they walked in, the room went silent and Harry had the sneaking suspicion that they had been talking about him moments before. Ginny joined them a few minutes later and a hearty dinner of shepherd's pie was served. Half way through the meal Harry noticed that the conversation at the table was severely lacking and Mrs. Weasley was not being her usual cheerful, talkative self.

Leaning over to Lupin, who was on his right, Harry whispered, "Why is everyone so quiet? Was the meeting especially grim today?"

"No," Lupin whispered back, "right before you entered we were having a rather heated discussion about whether or not you should be allowed to join the Order. Although most members are of Dumbledore's opinion on the matter, a few..." his eyes flickered toward Mrs. Weasley, "still think you are too young to be allowed in."

Harry nodded in understanding; it was only last year he had been sitting at this very table having the same debate. Only then it had been Sirius who came to his rescue; the only one who thought he could handle hearing what was happening with Voldemort. The memory made him slightly sick and he looked down at the remaining food on his plate in disgust.

Suddenly two loud pops echoed in the room. Mrs. Weasley gave a slight scream; Harry and Lupin both jumped to their feet, wands out; and Ginny let out a small squeal as she tumbled backwards off her chair, which she had been balancing on only two legs. But all the commotion was unwarranted, as it was only Fred and George, who had decided to Apparate into the kitchen.

"How many times have I told you to use the door?" Mr. Weasley said sternly, clutching his chest, "you nearly gave us all a heart attack."

"And a concussion," Ginny said sourly, as Ron helped her off the floor. She was rubbing a newly formed lump on the back of her head.

"Sorry," apologized Fred, "but we did try to use the door. We stood there for almost 10 minutes knocking, but you lot couldn't hear it..."

"...and we knew if we rang the bell that hideous portrait would wake up and start her caterwauling," finished George.

"So you see, we really didn't have much of a choice except to Apparate," added Fred.

"But at least we got here in time for some grub," said George, making two chairs appear out of nowhere. He seized one and squeezed in between Harry and Ron, while Fred grabbed the other and made himself comfortable between Ginny and Percy.

Recovering from her initial shock, Mrs. Weasley was soon up and about, first getting some ice for Ginny's head, then clearing off the dishes from the table and sending them magically over to the sink to be cleaned.

"Well aren't we a talkative bunch tonight," commented George sarcastically, through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Guess, we will just have to make our own conversation," said Fred, "so George, how's business going?"

"Just fabulous thank you, Fred. Today we got another thirty orders alone, just for our fake wands and another twenty for our skiving snackboxes."

"Not to mention those 50 orders last week for ton-tongue toffees. We might have to start hiring extra staff soon," continued Fred.

Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry from across the table.

"I'm glad to hear that your venture is turning out well for you," Lupin said mildly, with a slight smile on his face.

"You're partly to thank, Professor," replied Fred.

"The boggart lessons we had with you inspired an idea for us," elaborated George, "we've created a great new item, kind of like a miniature boggart. You slip it into someone's bag, or pocket, or whatever and when they go to pull it out it turns into whatever they are most afraid of."

"Can you pass the salt please, Ron," asked Fred.

Ron reached for the salt shaker which was in front of him; even though Harry had sworn he had seen Mrs. Weasley clear it off the table already. As soon at Ron picked up the shaker, there was a small pop and he was suddenly holding a tarantula instead. Instinctively he threw it back onto the table and backed away, turning a pale color.

Fred and George laughed uproariously. "The best part is it can be disguised as almost anything," cackled Fred, picking the salt shaker up with a napkin so that it didn't morph.

"Though it works best on smaller things, like Ronnie's fear of spiders. Doesn't work so well on larger things. Hold out your hand Harry," commanded George, accepting the salt shaker and napkin from his twin, "don't worry, I'm just showing how it doesn't work on large things."

Harry hesitantly put his hand out, palm up and George set the salt shaker in it. With another small pop a miniature dementor appeared in the palm of his hand. It was anything but scary, being only about 3 inches tall and not at all menacing. Harry laughed and put it down on the table, where it turned right back into a salt shaker.

An evening with Fred and George was never boring. They sat in the drawing room, which they had cleaned together the year before, now dust and doxy free, well lit, with cushy new sofas. The glass front shelves were very bare, where only a few pieces, ones that Sirius had felt were acceptable, had remained. On the other wall, the Black family tree still hung, the tapestry firmly attached to the wall by a Permanent Sticking Charm. Harry kept glancing over at it, recalling the day he and Sirius had stood there discussing it. How Harry had learned that the Blacks and the Malfoys were related by marriage, and that the same people who had driven Neville's parents insane were Sirius' cousins. Harry kept getting lost in his thoughts so often that, during their four way Gobbstone battle, Ginny, who was only a spectator, had to make many of Harry's moves for him. The others realized that it was Sirius who was on Harry's mind, and didn't bother him too much about not paying attention to the game.

Ron had just suggested a change of venue, to allow Harry to get his head back in the game, when Percy came storming in, looking extremely angry. He threw something shiny down at Fred and George and then stormed back out. Fred and George immediately broke into uncontrollable laughter, ignoring what looked like a galleon at their feet. Ron reached and picked it up, whence it immediately turned into an ugly spider. Ron threw it back down and a galleon reappeared, and Harry realized that it was another of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' products.

"We slipped it into his pocket at dinner," roared George.

"I wonder what it turned into?" commented Ginny.

"Probably the Minister of Magic telling him he wasn't doing a good job," laughed Fred.

The fun continued through the night, with chess and Exploding Snap being pulled out, once they tired of Gobbstones. They didn't even realize how late it was, until Mrs. Weasley walked into the room in her dressing gown at half past midnight and told them to go to bed. They staggered out and up the stairs, but Harry lingered behind.

"Mrs. Weasley, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked.

"Of course, dear."

Harry wasn't sure how to approach this topic with Mrs. Weasley, he had tremendous respect for her, as he saw her as the closest thing he had to a mother. "I want to talk about my induction into the Order."

A sterner look came over Mrs. Weasley's face and she pursed her lips, rather like Professor McGonagall, but remained silent.

"I know you think I am still too young to be in the Order, and I know that's what you were arguing about before dinner tonight. I also realize that you are trying to protect me, but I have managed to escape Voldemort on my own five times, if you count when I was an infant. My parents were killed the fourth time they met Voldemort."

Mrs. Weasley had winced every time Harry had said Voldemort's name. "Well, you have been involved in some extenuating circumstances, Harry, but you are still barely sixteen. It's just too young to take on such responsibility."

"Mrs. Weasley, when Voldemort was sixteen he was at Hogwarts. He was already using the name Lord Voldemort with his friends, and he set the monster in the Chamber of Secrets loose on the school, framing Hagrid and killing an innocent Muggle born witch. He was well on his way to becoming the greatest terror to ever strike the wizarding world. Now I am going to be sixteen, and I feel that being part of the Order is going to help me make sure that when the time comes, I can defeat Voldemort."

"Harry, in all likelihood, it will be Dumbledore who defeats You-Know-Who."

It only now struck Harry, that although they had been guarding the prophecy, the other members of the Order had no idea what the prophecy said. "Mrs. Weasley, you remember the thing that the Order was guarding last year?"

She nodded and looked as though she was going to say something, but Harry cut her off.

"No one else is supposed to know, Dumbledordore only just told me after Sirius was gone," Harry was trying to bring himself to speak his fate. "There is this prophecy," he took a deep breath. Part of him was telling him to keep this information hidden; if he didn't say it out loud then it might not be true. Yet, another part of him longed to share it with someone, to get the awful fact off his chest. "It proclaims I am the one with the power to vanquish Voldemort, but I must kill him, or he will kill me. We can not both survive."

Mrs. Weasley made no reply, but she had turned very pale.

"So, you see, it is my fate to have the final battle with Voldemort. Not being in the Order will only lesson my chances of winning. If there is any information I can learn or gain while in the Order, I am going to need it," Harry continued in a resigned sort of way, trying to keep the terror of his possible future from showing in his voice.

"Harry, I, I had no idea. I had just thought, well, thought that by keeping you out of the Order I was keeping you safe. Now I know that I can not, I can not fight destiny."

"Well, I'm glad we talked then," said Harry awkwardly, not sure how to end the conversation, "I'm going to go up to bed now."

He began walking away, but Mrs. Weasley called after him, "Harry, have you told Ron and Hermione what you just told me." She looked almost scared to hear the answer.

"No," replied Harry, "I haven't told anyone till now. Ron and Hermione don't need to carry this burden as well, let them be normal sixteen year olds."

Mrs. Weasley pulled him into a motherly embrace, holding him there for a few seconds. When she pulled away she had tears glistening in her eyes. "I didn't know them, but as a parent myself, I know that your parents would be very proud of you Harry. I know I am. Have a goodnight."

Harry climbed slowly up the staircase, looking back he saw Mrs. Weasley cleaning up the mess they had left in the drawing room. His room was dark when he entered and he crossed quietly over to his bed. Ron, however, must have been laying awake, waiting for him.

"So what did you stay to talk to my mum about?" he asked,

"Why she doesn't want me in the Order," answered Harry truthfully.

"Bet that discussion went over well."

"Actually, I think I may have swayed her opinion," Harry replied.

"Wow," muttered Ron, "you'll have to teach me how to do that."

Harry laughed, "Your mum was easy to persuade compared to the Dursleys."

"Yeah, you're probably right. So, you're gonna stay in your own bed tonight, right?"

Harry laughed again, "As long as Ginny doesn't start crying again."

Ron turned over mumbling something incoherent into his pillow and the room fell silent. Harry pulled on his pajamas and crawled under the sheets; soon he was fast asleep.

The next day dawned dull and damp. It had rained all through the night, and a foggy mist blanketed everything outside. It was midmorning, when a light tapping brought Harry out of his dreams. He squinted toward the window and was just able to make out the form of an owl, who was tapping to be let in.

He got out of bed, and realized that as he got to the window, it was Hedwig who wanted in. Pushing the frame up, his snowy owl hopped into the room, her feathers soaked from the night's rain. On her leg was a letter that had been wrapped in a plastic bag. After the letter was removed, Hedwig flew over to her cage, spraying Harry with water as she flew by him. He closed the window and looked at the familiar writing, before uncurling the parchment and putting on his glasses.

Dear Harry and Ron,

I hope you can read this, as I can't perform a waterproofing spell outside school I had to settle for a Muggle solution. Since I haven't received any frantic letters from Ron, I assume Harry has got there safely. I hope to be joining you two in a few weeks. I have been working with a lovely witch who works for the Order in order to try and protect my house. There is no telling how far Malfoy will go to avenge the "injustice" we have done to his father. And we all know how much he adores me, so Dumbledore thought it was a good idea to put up some preventative spells around my house, since the Death Eaters don't have a problem killing Muggles.

Anyway, I hope your summer has gone well so far. I've been getting the Daily Prophet every day, so I'm staying up on what is happening in the wizard world. Hopefully I'll be seeing you guys soon.

Love,

Hermione

Harry was tempted to go downstairs and find some breakfast, but he knew Ron would freak out if he wasn't there when he woke up. So, instead he pulled out a piece of fresh parchment and wrote a reply to Hermione.

Dear Hermione,

I got here without any trouble. I'll have to tell you about my detour to Gringotts when you get here. I never even thought that your parents might be in danger, so it's good that Dumbledore is on top of things. Hopefully those spells don't get tested.

See you soon,

Harry

The scratching of his quill had apparently disturbed Ron, who rolled over and said groggily,

"Whatcha doing Harry?"

"Writing a reply to Hermione; she sent us a letter," he replied and threw Hermione's letter onto Ron's bed.

Ron rubbed his eyes and then read over the letter. "Well that's nice," he said in a rather uninterested voice.

"Do you want to write anything back, before I send Hedwig back with my reply?"

"Sure," said Ron, who took Harry's letter and quill and scratched on the bottom of Harry's letter:

P.S. Hi from Ron and see you soon.

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron, as he walked over to Hedwig's cage. She however, didn't seem very happy at the prospect of going back out before she was properly dry, so Ron told him to use Pigwidgeon instead. Once Hermione's letter was on its way, Harry coaxed Ron to get out of bed and go with him to get breakfast.