At What Price?

Chapter 10

Time for Good Men to Step Forward

"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."
-Attributed to Edmund Burke (1729-1797)

Draco stumbled as he appeared in the Apparition safe-room at Malfoy Manor. Pansy Parkinson's limp form was heavy in his arms and her blood was soaking through his robes. "Elf!" he shouted. A small humanoid form appeared and bowed very low before him.

"Yes, Master Draco sir, how can I be serving you?"

"There's more than one of you in this house, correct?"

"Yes sir, Master Draco sir, three in all. Me and..."

"Whatever," Draco interrupted. "Call another one up here." With a pop, another elf appeared next to the first. Draco stumbled a bit and knelt down, laying Pansy on the ground. He pointed at one of the elves, "You, take her to my chambers. Be very careful. If you injure her any more than she already is, I'll force clothes upon you myself. Do you understand me?" The elf nodded its head in vigorous agreement.

He turned his attention now to the other one. "Is my mother here?"

"Yes, Master Draco sir. In the drawing room."

"Tell her to summon Dr. Kinsington and Mr. Pascal. Tell her it is urgent. Then have her come to my room." The elf nodded vigorously then disappeared with a pop.

Draco set his hands on the floor and pushed up, the muscles in his shoulders protested and the gash in his leg tore open anew. He could feel the blood trickling down his leg, going around where it had already congealed between his leg and his trousers. "Bloody hell." He shook out his wand, "Engorgio." The wand lengthened and became a cane, which he set on the floor next to his now bleeding leg. With a painful grunt, he pushed himself up from the floor and limped down the hall to his room.

He entered his room to see Pansy lying on his bed. She was covered to the neck by a blanket that was now stained with blood. She was pale and her face was slack. Her chest rose and fell in an irregular pattern. Gently he peeled back the blanket so that he could get a better look at her. Her face was lacerated by several long gashes that had clotted; the dried blood was still matted in her hair and to her face. As he looked further down, he saw that her neck was covered with bruises and the left side of her body was covered with burns.

"Damn you, Walden MacNair. You'd better hope you died in that explosion." Pansy drew in a ragged breath and coughed. Blood flecked her lips and speckled Draco's hand as he tried to comfort her.

"Draco," she said in a weak voice.

"Shhh, Pansy, a medi-witch is coming. You're going to be fine. Save your strength." She gave him a wan smile that distorted her bloody face into a hideous mask. "Stay here, I'll be back in a moment."

"What you needing, Master Draco sir?" Draco looked at the foot of his bed in surprise. The elf that had delivered Pansy to his room stood waiting.

"Bring me a cloth and some warm water." He turned his attention back to Pansy. She coughed a little, and dark blood speckled her lips and chin. Draco was unsure about using magic for he was afraid it would be too much for her to handle.

"Draco," she wheezed, her breath coming in irregular gasps now. Draco looked at her, he was sure his concern was written all over his face. He did nothing to conceal it; there was no need to with Pansy, she was a good and loyal friend. "Before I die," she coughed; blood splattered on Draco's chest, mixing with the substantial stain that was already there.

"You're not going to die, Pansy." His tone was quiet and confident, as though he alone could will her to live despite all the evidence to the contrary. He took the cloth from the bowl of warm water that had been placed on the bedside table. Carefully, with a measured precision and gentleness, he began to clean the blood from her lips. When they were clean, he leaned over and kissed her lightly before continuing with cleaning the blood from her face.

As he watched her, he noticed that tears were dripping slowly down her cheeks. "I would do something for the pain, but I'm not sure if your body can take it." She smiled weakly at him, trying to laugh as the tears flowed more freely now. Draco was perplexed, why was she laughing and crying at the same time? As though reading his mind, she answered in a broken voice.

"You've never...kissed me...before."

"Sure I have," he wiped away the tear that was running down the cheek that wasn't burned. "What did you think we were doing in here last night?"

A sad look came over her face; she had never really learned to keep her emotions from her face. "You never started it." Draco thought for a minute as he gently cleaned the blood from her eyebrow. As best he could remember, she was right. She always came to him. He leaned over and kissed her again with impossible tenderness.

"It's not fair," she sniffled. "Why do you have to wait 'til I'm dying?"

"You're not dying." His voice was quiet but fierce in his ears; very seldom had anything ever evoked such passion in him. "If I have to kick open the gates of Hell and drag you back here kicking and screaming, you are not dying on me, Pansy."

"Draco!" A deep voice shouted as the door blew open. Draco turned his head, unable to turn around properly as he leaned heavily on his cane.

"What do you want, Father?" Draco drawled with a hint of annoyance.

"Don't you take that impertinent tone with me. I can't believe you abandoned the Dark Lord," Lucius was interrupted by Draco.

"Like you would know. Where were you when the Aurors took the Goyles in to custody?" Draco fully turned to face his father. "Where were you when James Lestrange threw Vincent in front of a killing curse?" He took a stumbling step forward and leaned heavily on his cane. "Where were you when Marcus Flint had his leg taken off by a severing curse?" Draco pointed at his father, his hand trembling like a leaf in a strong wind. His voice dropped into a deadly growl. "Where were you when MacNair set off a bomb that very nearly killed Pansy."

Lucius sneered at his son. "I was-"

"Draco!" Narcissa turned the corner into her son's room breathing heavily. "Lucius," she said in a more formal tone. She turned her attention back on her younger son. "Dr. Kinsington is on her way. What do you need her for?" Concern swam in her hazel eyes as she pulled a stray lock of her platinum blonde hair out of her face. Her long, bejeweled fingers extended to touch a swelling bruise on Draco's forehead.

"I--, Pansy--," whatever Draco intended to say was lost as his gray eyes clouded over and he collapsed to the floor.

"Draco!" Narcissa shrieked and dropped down next to him. She reached for his robe, but then noticed the copious amounts of blood that was soaking through the heavy black material. Tentatively she reached for his robes, but held back as though she couldn't bear the thought of actually touching so much blood. Lucius pulled out his own wand and with a muttered charm split Draco's robe from neckline to hem. A chime sounded from somewhere deep in the house.

"Cover him," Lucius commanded as he strode from the room. His long purposeful strides carried him quickly through the halls of the house to the Apparition Room. There was a second deep chiming, a house elf appeared at the door.

"Shoulds't I be opening the door, Master Lucius sir?" The small creature was pathetic in its stained dishtowel and blue tea cozy, though Lucius noticed only its presence not the details.

Lucius glanced into the looking glass that hung on the wall opposite the door to the locked room. "No, go away." He checked himself thoroughly, making sure that nothing marred his appearance before opening the door. "Alexis, Bartholomew, what a pleasure." His voice was smooth and betrayed not a hint of worry or anxiety.

"Lucius," Alexis spoke up first. Her tightly curled bottle blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She smoothed down the top of her tailor-made pinstriped robe and slid her satchel down from her shoulder. "Narcissa summoned me, she said it was urgent. Is everyone okay?" Her tone was clipped and to the point.

"This way Dr. Kinsington." Lucius motioned for the tall, middle-aged man to also follow them and turned to walk down the hall. Lucius walked quickly, forcing the younger medi-witch to almost run to keep up with him. He motioned her into Draco's room where Narcissa was knelt down on the floor next to him. "Narcissa, leave him be, Dr. Kinsington is here."

Dr. Alexis Kinsington was all business as she knelt down next to Draco and opened her satchel. She pulled out her wand and began a cursory examination. "Is he going to live?" Lucius asked with almost callous detachment.

"He's not in any danger of bleeding to death, but he does have some internal injuries." A frown creased the flawless skin of the woman's round face. "How did this happen?" She lifted his wrist and began to count his pulse rate.

"Pansy--," Draco groaned. He turned his head to the bed.

"Lie still, Draco," his mother quietly admonished him. The doctor's eyes wandered to the massive bed where Pansy lay, sunken into the soft mattress and hidden from casual view. Alexis stood up and walked to the bed, gasping as she noted the awful condition of the young woman lying there. She wheeled on Lucius.

"Did you know she was here?" Narcissa's head snapped up to look at the doctor, then to her husband.

"Heal my son." Lucius said with an imperious tone. He turned on his heal and strode down the hall, indicating that the other man should follow. Once they were ensconced in his study, Lucius finally spoke to the other man. "Bart, I'm afraid I'm going to be keeping you very busy over the next few weeks."

"How so, Lucius?" The man leaned back in his chair and took a glass of brandy being offered by a house elf.

"Tomorrow morning the Daily Prophet is going to splatter a headline up that states something to the effect that the Death Eater organization has been dismantled and most of the members have been imprisoned or killed during a raid by the Magical Law Enforcement Squad." He paused and sipped at his own brandy. He watched his companion for signs of reaction, but the man was only looked at him with curiously raised eyebrow. "Tonight, you and I are going to do everything we can to make sure that headline never appears. I don't care what means you have to use, but you get a gag order clamped down on this, I don't want any official statements on it. I'll take care of the news staff at The Prophet and the WWN."

"Is it true?" Lucius stopped and looked over the top of glass at his attorney.

"Are we on the record?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, partially so anyway. Several Death Eater's were arrested tonight."

"Anybody who can prove you were there?"

"Only the whole bloody organization."

"Alright, Lucius, keep your head down; I'll take care of this. Keep me appraised of Draco's situation, Ayla will want to know." The sallow skinned man pulled himself from the chair and stretched his long lanky frame.

"How is she doing, I haven't seen her since Christmas."

"Nervous, she starts school at Hogwarts this year."

"Not sending her Durmstrang?"

"No, I think it will be better if she establishes ties in the community here. Someday she will have an important role to fulfill and it will be considerably easier if she has the connections already established." He extended his hand. "Goodnight, Lucius. Hope Draco gets well soon. I've got my cell phone if you need to reach me."

Lucius reached out and took hold of the other man's hand. "Bart, I'm disappointed in you. What do you need that infernal Muggle contraption for?"

"Say what you will, but they're bloody useful; especially in this line of work. Persephone can reach me if you need to find me in an emergency." Lucius opened the study door and escorted his guest back down to the Apparition Portal. Both men were silently absorbed in their own thoughts until they reached the door. "Lucius, who was the girl?" Lucius noted a slight hint of displeasure in the man's voice.

"Nobody you need concern yourself with. She's no threat to the agreement. He understands the terms very well." Lucius ignored the other man's frown and opened the door for him. "Take care Bart, call me through the fire about midnight and let me know where we stand." With a nod the other man walked into the room and disappeared with a flick of his wand.

Lucius walked on down the hall, heading for his son's room. As he approached he could hear the sound of two women arguing. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded as he entered the room.

"Mr. Malfoy, Draco and Ms. Parkinson both need to go to St. Mungo's. There are facilities I need that I do not have here." She leveled her best professional glare on Lucius, who ignored it.

"Absolutely not, Dr. Kinsington. Draco stays here. Feel free to take Pansy though if it is necessary."

"No!" Narcissa stamped her foot and glared at her husband, then at the doctor. "You wait right there." She admonished the other woman. She walked to her husband and began whispering in sharp tones. "I have a pretty good idea what happened tonight. If my guess is right, then St. Mungo's is going to be crawling with Aurors. Shipping her off to there will be an instant prison sentence."

"It would solve certain problems. Bart was most unhappy about finding Pansy in Draco's bed. I don't think I need--"

"Then look at it this way. What will the Dark Lord say if you turn over one of his faithful to the Aurors?" She glared at her husband with cold resolve.

"Once again you prove that not only are you beautiful, but you are also useful. Very well, she stays." Lucius walked over to the bed and looked at his son's pale form, careful to avoid the burned and cut form of the girl next to him. "They both stay here Alexis."

"Lucius, I--"

"Drop it, Alexis. I'm paying you more in retainer than most of the medi-witches at that hospital make in a year." He left the rest of the implication hanging in the air.

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy. In that case I need certain things done. First, I need a separate bed for Draco." Lucius started to object. "His injuries are far less severe." She walked around the bed and pulled the Malfoys some distance away from the patients, who were both sleeping. "You might want to contact the girl's parents. I'm not sure she is going to live through the night. Draco should be fine within a week provided he does exactly what I tell him." Lucius nodded to his wife, who left the room.

"Do what you can for her," Lucius said in a flat tone. Alexis looked at him sharply, her expression clearly showing her surprise at his indifference to the girl's fate.

-------------

Ron raced back along the silver chord that trailed out behind him. It was the only thing he could actually touch in his current form and its solidity gave him reassurance that he was still grounded somewhere. There was no wind here on this ethereal plane where he existed and so he had no idea how quickly he was moving, but he knew it was not fast enough. As he got closer to his destination he began to feel a persistent pull, much like he was being reeled in. Warmth spread through his chest and he was anxious though the feeling did not feel like his own emotion.

"Young Seer, tarry but a moment with me." It was the middle-aged woman he had seen before. She was sitting on bench of radiant white stone combing her long frosty blonde hair.

"But--" Ron made a gesture along his chord indicating his desire to continue on.

"Yes, I know. Her very soul calls out for you, begging your return." A knowing smile played about the older woman's lips before suddenly evaporating. "Why do you look at me so?"

"I," Ron paused for a second, "I know you. I've seen you before."

"Of course you know me. Every seer and diviner knows me at some level."

"No. I saw you, when you were younger." Ron's spirit form closed its eyes, as though trying to focus on something. "You were at the temple. You were with Harry when he came to the temple. You're--" Ron's eyes were very wide as he stared at her.

"Go to her Ron." The woman stood up quickly and banished the bench she had been sitting on. "You have much to do, all of you."

"What is your name?" Ron asked simply. He had regained his composure and was no longer gawking at her. Her eyes softened as she looked at him. She extended her had to him, palm down, her fingers slightly curled.

"I am called Lycheis." Ron took her proffered hand and brushed his silvery lips over the back of her ghostly white fingers. "And that is all you need to know, young Mr. Weasley. Now go to her before she rends my essence with her summoning of you." Suddenly the beautiful blonde haired matron was gone, and Ron felt himself being yanked along by the silver chord extending from his chest. With a thud, Ron fell back into his body.

*

Hermione scanned over the incantation one more time before attempting it. She was ready to cry with frustration. This was the fourth spell she had learned in the last hour since Mrs. Weasley had levitated Ron over to the couch. It had taken her a few hysterical minutes when Ron stopped choking before she would listen to the Weasley women that surrounded her. She was sure that Ron had died; he had been choking and unable to breathe, and then suddenly he was limp and calm. However, with some effort Marix had finally convinced her that Ron was travelling via astral projection. Marix had taught her the spell that let her see with what she called sight beyond sight that indeed Ron had vacated his body but was still attached to it by a wispy strand of silver chord.

Once she realized that Ron wasn't dead, she had run to his room and grabbed every book he owned on divination. In a book entitled Travels beyond the Shroud she had found what she sought, spells relating to astral projection. With every spell she had cast his chord and vibrated and pulsed with the energy she sent along it, trying to call him back. None had worked though, and she was sure something had to be blocking her, which worried her even more. Something, or someone, had separated him from her and was keeping him away. She fought down the panic and anger building inside her and forced herself to repeat the complicated incantation again.

Sure that she had it right this time, she set her hand on his chest so that his chord seemed to pass through it. She began to recite the words of power from the book. This time it felt different. The chord didn't vibrate and hum as it had done previously. Instead, it was like pulling a string through her fingers, and it was moving very quickly.

Ron's body seemed to fill with something and he drew a shuddering breath. His eyelids fluttered and opened. The book fell to the floor with a thud, though Hermione never noticed. "Don't you ever do that to me again!" she shouted at him. Then she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a crushing embrace. Assured the he was indeed alive and returned to her, she began to alternately pound on his chest and cover his face with kisses. "Ronald Arthur, I am going to kill you. How dare you scare me like that?"

Ron tried to sit up, but grimaced in pain and put his hand to his right rib cage. When he pulled it away, it was sticky with blood. "You're bleeding, lay still." Hermione shredded his shirt with a word and peeled it away from the right side of his body. Blood pooled on his skin but did not spread. Using his shirt, Hermione wiped it away, and was given another shock. There was no wound. However, he did have a nasty bruise, about the size of a fifty pence piece. Slowly, blood began to pool over the bruise again. Hermione wiped it away but could find no opening that the blood could be spilling from.

"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione called. Molly came out of the kitchen followed by Marix; Ginny was watching them anxiously from a chair nearby.

"I've told you, love, just call me mum. How's he doing?" Her face went from pleasant relief to worry as she saw the blood on his chest. "Oh, dear, what happened to you." Molly rushed over and quickly edged in front of Hermione. "What did you do to yourself? Oh, Ron." Molly fussed over him, wiping away the blood and then casting a healing charm on his bruised ribs. Hermione turned to Marix and rolled her eyes, doing nothing to hide the look of frustration on her face.

Hermione turned back to Ron and walked around Molly. Ginny was standing behind the couch holding Ron's hand and looking at him intently. Hermione noticed that when she knelt down next to Ron neither of the Weasley women gave ground to her. "Ron, what happened?" Ron's eyes were closed again, his face relaxed into a smiling repose.

"Dear, he's tired. Whatever happened to him has exhausted him. Let him sleep." Hermione bit back several retorts and avoided looking at the woman who was likely to be interfering in her life for the next sixty years or more.

"Fine, let's get him up to his room." Hermione's tone clearly indicated that she wasn't fine with this, but nothing more was said about it as Molly levitated Ron up the stairs to his room. "Do you mind if I sit with him for a while?"

"Of course dear, just don't wake him."

"I want to stay with him too," Ginny added, shooting a shy smile at Hermione. Hermione set her mouth into a pleasant smile that she really didn't feel.

"That would be nice, Ginny. Thanks. Do you suppose you could run down and get us some lemonade?"

"I'll get it girls, don't trouble yourselves." Once they settled Ron into his bed Marix ushered Molly out and said she'd be down in a minute. She walked over to the bed and held out her hands.

"Back up girls, I need some space." Grudgingly, the girls gave ground. As Hermione watched, Marix rested her hand about an inch above Ron's body and began to trace out his body. She watched keenly as Marix seemed to massage a spot above where Ron had been bleeding earlier. After a moment, she stopped and pressed her hand to Ron's solar plexus. Ron twitched slightly, then lay still again.

"What did you do to him?" Ginny asked, her tone almost accusing.

"I sealed him into his body so he doesn't go wandering in his sleep." Hermione thought the look Marix shot Ginny was a little less friendly than the ones she had seen just a week or so ago. "Don't keep him awake too long, he needs his sleep." Hermione started to object then nodded slightly. A second later the door opened and Molly entered carrying two glasses of fizzing lemonade.

"Does your mother know where you are love?"

"She knows I'm with Ron and Harry. I should probably walk into town and call her."

"Just owl her. You can use Pigwidgeon. Heaven knows he knows the way well enough." Molly and Ginny shared a laugh at the memories of Pig making two, sometimes three, round trips a day between the Burrow and North London; even Hermione laughed along with them.

After the adults had left Ginny turned to Hermione. "Look, I know you didn't want me here, but if I'm up here mum won't come up every five minutes to make sure you're letting him sleep. Besides, I need some advice."

"I didn't..." Hermione stopped. "That wasn't very charitable of me, was it?"

"Don't worry. I've seen mum act like this before." Hermione gave Ginny a questioning look. "That's why Percy is the only one that's in a serious relationship. Bill almost got married years ago, but mum ran her off. Didn't think she was good enough for her little boy."

"You don't think-"

"No, mum likes you. She'll be interfering and bothersome, but she won't try to run you off. Be careful she doesn't start trying to give you cooking lessons though."

"Oh, come now. Cooking isn't that much different than potions."

"You've obviously never made spaghetti sauce before." Ginny smiled at her friend. Hermione got the distinct impression she was being laughed at.

"Let's find out what happened," she said, turning her attention to Ron and more important questions than whether or not she could cook.

-------------------

The creaking of the bedroom door woke Harry. A glance out the window revealed the steely gray of pre-dawn just creeping across the sky. Sirius stretched out on the other bed and looked over at Harry. "Go back to sleep, it's five in the morning."

"And what are you doing up at this ungodly hour?" Harry asked around a large yawn.

"Chasing Hermione back to her own room before Arthur and Molly caught her in with Ron." Sirius noticed the look that Harry was giving him, "It's not what you think, Harry. Something shook her up pretty bad last night. She said she just needed to be sure he hadn't gone wandering again."

"Wandering? Ron doesn't sleepwalk. Besides, I don't think he'd leave the house anyway."

"I got the impression it was something more than that." Sirius's mouth stretched wide, his tongue curling as a huge yawn contorted his features. "Go back to sleep, we've only been here five hours and we both need a bit more rest." A large black dog suddenly filled the space where Sirius had been. Harry lay there, watching Padfoot sleep for a few minutes. Finally, certain that his godfather was in fact asleep, he slid out of bed and crept to the door. Just as he was about to leave he heard Padfoot's deep rumbling growl. Without even a glance back over his shoulder Harry told him to go back to sleep and closed the door.

The hallway was dark; the only light being given came from a dim light spell that was always left on in the loo. Harry slipped across the hall and knocked lightly on Ginny's door. A moment later it opened a crack to reveal Hermione peeking out. She slipped out into the hall and threw her arms around him. "Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you're okay." Harry struggled to breathe as Hermione squeezed the life out of him. Finally, in a strangled voice he was able to communicate to her that if she didn't let go he wouldn't be okay for long. With a sheepish grin she released him. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay, nice to know somebody missed me." Harry gave her a half-hearted lopsided grin. "Let's go down stairs, I need to talk to you." She re-appeared a moment later, Ron's bathrobe pulled around her. "Are you stealing all of his clothes?"

Hermione blushed a little, "Only the ones that are useful."

"Just so long as I don't see you running around in his boxers." Harry noticed the mischievous glint in her eye as she smiled. "Don't even think about it. How would it look if I had to go to McGonagall and tell her the Head Girl was sneaking into my dorm room to steal underwear?" Harry chuckled at the horrified look on Hermione's face and headed downstairs.

"Harry," Hermione asked, all seriousness, "did you mean what I think you meant when you said 'at least somebody missed me'?" She curled her legs up under her on the couch and hugged a pillow to her chest.

"It's nothing," Harry said, his face falling into an impassive mask.

"Harry, would you stop with the 'nothings' already. We've been through too much together for you to start holding out on me." She cocked her head to the side and curled up one side of her mouth. Harry had to laugh; she was so cute when she did that. "What, why are you laughing at me?"

"It's nothing. You're just kind of funny sometimes." Harry leaned back into the corner of the sofa and sighed. "It's just," he paused. "Nothing," he repeated with a shake of his head.

"It's just that you would have liked for Ron to be sitting up waiting for you too, not just me and Molly." Harry nodded. "He would have been Harry, but something happened yesterday. Something really bizarre." Harry sat up; more interested now and noticed she was plucking at some stray threads on the pillow she was holding.

"What, is everything okay? Ron didn't do anything to anybody did he?"

"Why are so you quick to accuse him?" Hermione wouldn't meet his eyes as she asked, making him apprehensive.

"Well, he certainly didn't waste anytime accusing me, did he?"

"I found out that there's a lot more to it than that." Harry leaned back to hear her out. The concern in her voice was enough to set aside all other arguments until she was done. "Ron's caught up in forces that are way beyond him. I think they're the same forces that sweep you along sometimes. The difference is, you've been dealing with them your whole life, Ron's just coming to terms with it."

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"Be patient with him. He's still you're best friend."

"If he was really my best friend he would have stayed up with you last night."

"Harry, that's not fair." Hermione looked at him, her eyes blazing with something that Harry could only call righteous indignation. It was like when she first started S.P.E.W. in their fourth year. She calmed down a little as he shrank back from her. "He almost died yesterday. And that was before he went to save you."

"He what?" Harry had no idea what she was talking about. He hadn't seen Ron since leaving for the MLES headquarters twelve hours ago. Ron certainly hadn't been in any danger of dying before then.

"He got pulled out of his body, Marix said it was a forced astral projection." Harry raised his eyebrows. They had learned about astral projection during sixth year Divination, and Harry knew it could be dangerous to those without the proper knowledge of how to do it. "He told us how he found you in the dungeons under Voldemort's Manor and how he led Sirius to you because he couldn't help you himself." She went on to relay as much of the story as she knew or understood, which wasn't a great deal because Ron hadn't been very lucid the evening before.

"Sirius was right," Harry said when she was done.

"About what?"

"Well, Sirius didn't know that the spirit was Ron, neither did I. Anyway, as we're getting ready to leave the manor, this spirit touched both of us and I get this sense of somebody wishing me well. Sirius says, 'Somebody's a very good friend, wish I knew who it was.' Now I know. You're right Hermione, he is a good friend." The two sat in silence for a long moment, neither sure quite how to break the somber mood that had settled over the room. Harry decided to give it a shot. "So when are you going to develop SuperWitch powers?"

"Thanks, Harry. Just what I needed, to be reminded that I'm surrounded by wizards of incredible power, while I'm just Hermione."

"You'll never be 'just Hermione' to me." Harry said, patting her hand. They both jumped as one of the stairs squeaked behind them. "Dammit, Sirius, how long have you been there?"

"Long enough to make sure you were okay."

"I'm at the Burrow, how much danger can I be in? Especially after what happened last night."

"Especially after what happened last night," Sirius admonished him. "I'm not taking any chances, Harry. I just wanted to be sure." Harry wanted to be annoyed by this; he didn't need Sirius, or anybody else for that matter, poking their nose into his business. On the other hand, it was nice to know somebody cared enough to be that overprotective. "Either of you know if they have any coffee in this house?"

Hermione glanced at her watch, "Molly should be down in about ten minutes or so, she can tell you. Tea is in the second overhead cabinet from the left." She shrugged as Harry gave her a quizzical look.

"I'm gonna go wake Ron up, I need to talk to him." Harry rose from the couch.

"It's your life, I guess." Hermione grinned at him. He responded in kind. "I could tell you kissing his ear wakes him up in a better mood, but I'm not so sure I like the idea of you kissing my boyfriend." Harry could feel his face scrunching up before he even thought about it; Hermione was laughing at him.

"When did you become queen of the scary visual place?"

"Are you kidding, Ron could probably corrupt Mother Teresa just by being in the same room with her. Besides, I haven't really had an opportunity to tease you for almost two months." She stood up and pinched his cheek as she walked past him. "Go get this straightened out, you'll feel better afterwards." Harry shook his head and turned to trudge up the stairs. "Here, take these with you." Harry turned to just in time to catch two cans of Coke flying through the air. "He's a lot more manageable when he has his morning caffeine and sugar." Hermione proceeded into the kitchen and nailed Sirius down by asking about what had happened the night before.

Harry knocked on Ron's door as a formality, then opened without waiting for a response. Dawn was starting to streak the sky with brilliant colors, burning its way through the morning fog. "Nng," Ron said, holding up a hand.

"Morning to you too," Harry responded to Ron's standard morning greeting, though lacking the usual obscenities. "I come bearing gifts of sugar and caffeine." He handed one of the cold cans to Ron, who opened it blindly and was greeted by spraying soda.

"Bloody hell!" Ron grabbed a shirt off the perpetually messy floor and wiped the sticky liquid off his bare chest as he slurped foam from the can. Harry couldn't help but laugh at his friend.

"Okay, aliens didn't kidnap you, that's good." Harry sat down in Ron's desk chair and propped his feet up on the bed before taking a drink of his own Coke. Reluctantly, Harry settled into a serious frame of mind. "I wanted to talk to you before we all get started doing whatever it is we're doing today."

Ron looked over a Harry with a wary expression. "What's up?"

"Hermione told me about what happened yesterday. I wanted to say...thank you. You helped save my life."

Ron looked a little embarrassed. "We're mates Harry, it's what we do. Besides...well...you know...that's just how it is." The two boys spent a long uncomfortable moment without saying anything. Finally, the silence was broken by a knock on the door. Harry breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Yeah?" Ron called out.

The door opened to reveal a frantic looking Mr. Weasley. "Oh, good, Harry's in here with you. Morning Harry." Harry saluted with his soda. "Do you know where Sirius is?"

"Downstairs talking to Hermione." Mr. Weasley closed the door with a thank you. Harry turned back to Ron. "So what's been going on with you lately, I mean other than fighting with your best friend." Harry added a bit sheepishly.

"It's cool, look, I'm really sorry about everything that happened. I was way out of control."

"And of course no one would ever believe you get out of control." Harry smiled at his friend. Ron at first looked indignant, then apparently saw that Harry was just having him on and smiled as well.

"Ha, ha, very funny Mr. Potter." Ron leaned back against his headboard.

"Seriously, what's been going on with you lately? I kind of get the impression that it's something big and, well, kind of weird." Now Ron's expression turned serious as well.

"Harry, remember back in first year, when you were telling me about flying? It was after your first Quidditch practice with Oliver, and you were on and on about how exhilarating flying was, how at home you felt on your broom, how much of a rush it was." Harry nodded and made a grunt of affirmation. "It's been like that. When I started handling the tarot decks, I was getting a total rush of power from it. I could actually feel the strength of people's auras in the cards. When I started reading the cards I actually felt like I was connecting with something, it was intoxicating. I'm getting giddy just thinking about it." Ron stopped and shook his hands out.

Harry could identify with what Ron was talking about. He knew it every time he touched Gryffindor's Sword; he felt that connection to the strength that was Godric Gryffindor. It was kind of daunting, not to mention a little spooky.

"Anyway," Ron continued. "I found out some of what was behind it. You know about the three aspects of Fate, right?"

"Yeah, they exist in most of the major mythologies. There's a spinner, a weaver, and a cutter. We studied them in fifth year divinations when the Headmaster was covering for Professor Trelawney."

"Exactly. Well, I found out that they're real." Given everything Harry had seen in the last six years, he had no reason to doubt that this was true. He waited expectantly for Ron to continue. "The old woman, the cutter, has something against seers. Apparently, she uses their gifts against them to drive them crazy and then kills them. That's what she's been doing to me."

Harry desperately wanted to hold his watch up in the air; it was too late for his boots. After all Ron was the king of the exaggerated story. Harry was about to say something when he noticed the look on Ron's face. "How did you figure it out?"

"Yesterday, when I blacked out, she was here, in the kitchen. She was going to cut my thread. At the last minute Lycheis, the weaver, stopped her. I didn't see what happened, that's when Cloethé told me you were in danger." Harry shivered, it was like every nerve in his entire body had come to life at once. "It was unnerving, seeing my own thread like that. It was all tattered and frayed, like when you pick at threads in a cloth. Lycheis told me later it was mirror of my life, that I was slowly coming apart and that I needed to fix it."

"What do you have to do?"

Ron took a deep breath. "I have to make things right with you. Harry, you have to believe me, I wanted to make this right before I found out. That was why I showed up at the Leaky Cauldron yesterday. I wanted to talk to you, make things right between us. You and I have been mates since we met. I'd hate to lose that, over anything."

Harry sat, digesting what Ron was saying. Truth be known, the fight with Ron was leaving him strung out and empty. He missed his friend, despite any words he had said or written to the contrary. Still, he was wary of just sweeping everything under the rug. Ron's betrayal had hurt more than anything else he had faced had. "So, is everything alright with you now? Not going to go flipping out over little things anymore?"

"Look, I'm really sorry about all that. If you want to go out with Ginny, I promise I won't say anything."

"Not exactly what I meant, but I'll take it."

"Do you really want to go out with Gin?"

"Honest truth, that's the last thing on my mind right now. Let me get back to you on that one." Harry held out his can of Coke to Ron. "Mates?"

"Best mates," Ron replied clicking his own can against Harry's. Ron slugged down the last of his Coke and contorted his face as a rumbling belch came out of mouth. "Ah, the advantages of not having the girls around." Harry laughed as Ron crawled out of bed and got dressed.

*

Arthur relaxed considerably as he closed Ron's door. Harry and Ron were in a room together, just the two of them, and not breaking anything. It was a definite improvement over the situation a week ago. It didn't really bother him that Ron wouldn't talk to him about it; he remembered being that age once, long ago. He didn't talk to his family a whole lot either, just his mates. That's just the way it was, and boys were worse about it than girls.

Unsurprisingly, Hermione was in the kitchen before he got downstairs. She was usually up long before anyone else in the house, even Molly. "Morning, Sugar."

"Morning, Dad." She replied. "Tea's in the kettle. Do you have any coffee?"

"Check the cupboard with the baking goods. I think the twins keep some over here. Don't tell me you've taken up drinking that vile stuff."

"That would be me." Sirius said a little guiltily.

"Sirius, I'm ashamed of you. Good English boy like yourself drinking that stuff."

"Blame it on the Belgians. For six months it was the only thing I could get. Well, that and beer, but it's too early in the morning for beer." The three shared a bit of a laugh.

"Speaking of Belgium, how's Remus doing?" Hermione asked.

"Well, he's settled in with a family that has three other werewolves in it. Two of which are also escapees. I think I've finally got him convinced to stay there until the Ministry lifts this ridiculous 'relocation' directive." Sirius shook his head as he thought again about the breakout that had very nearly gotten them all arrested. He mentally shivered as he thought about the possibility of them all being locked up in Azkaban for their collective zealotry. However, they had pulled it off and gotten Remus out of that God-forsaken prison camp. He was able to say it was worth it though because they had gotten away with it and several others were now running an organized resistance to smuggle other werewolves to safety outside the country.

"So tell me Sirius," Arthur said conversationally as he sat down at the table. "What happened last night after they sent us home? The place seemed to explode with activity."

"We raided Voldemort's Headquarters."

"Merlin's beard! How did that go?"

"Well enough. We lost four agents. Another dozen or so injured, two unaccounted for. Good news is that fifteen Death Eaters have been taken into custody and another seven dead."

"How many got away?" Hermione asked as she sat a steaming mug of coffee down in front of Sirius.

"Half dozen or so. Thank you." Sirius lifted the mug to his lips and slurped deeply. "Blech!" Sirius spat the coffee back into the mug and picked up a spoon. He stirred it and lifted up the spoon, which was now full of grounds.

"Don't tell me you asked Hermione to make coffee?" Ron said as he walked into the kitchen. Hermione planted her fists on her hips; her mouth was working like she wanted to say something. Ron planted a peck on her lips, "Morning sweetie."

"Don't you 'morning sweetie' me. I just thought-" she was suddenly cut off by Ron kissing her again.

"I'm not marrying you for your coffee." Sirius and Arthur snapped a look at Ron, Harry and Hermione both ignored it. Ron said things like that fairly frequently; he had been for about the last six months now.

"Who's talking about getting married?" Molly demanded as she walked into the kitchen.

"Nobody, Mum." Ron replied quickly. The last thing he wanted this morning was for his mother to go off on a marriage tangent. Then it would just be hours of how she was despairing of ever having grandchildren because none of her boys seemed to be capable of getting involved in a serious relationship. This conveniently ignored the fact that Percy and Penelope were to be married at the turn of the year, but if anybody mentioned it then she would simply say that none of her other sons would ever measure up to her Percy. It had actually become a standing joke between all the boys, excluding Percy.

Looking for a change of subject, Ron turned to Sirius. "How's Elizabeth doing?"

"Thanks to you, very well. Dr. Branford said that whatever you did kept her lung from flooding. You saved her life, Ron. Thank you. You should come out to St. Mungo's with me this afternoon, I'm sure she'll want to meet you."

"Who's this?" Hermione said, wrapping her arms around Ron from behind him.

"My temporary partner, Elizabeth Sager."

"Liz!" Hermione said in a shocked voice, "I, I know her. We used to study together."

"I know." Sirius said by way of putting an end to the conversation. "Do you want to come with when I go see her?"

"I'd love too."

"You sure that's such a good idea, Sirius?" Harry asked. "You know, considering... you know." Harry was nodding in Hermione's general direction and giving Sirius a very meaningful look.

"It'll be fine Harry."

"I'm not sure if you're trying to be a nice guy, or if you're just stone cold heartless."

"Would you two stop talking about me like I'm not even here." Hermione stepped out from behind Ron. "Why would it not be a good idea for me to go see Liz?"

"Nothing," Harry and Sirius said at the same time. She gave Harry an icy stare that he tried to ignore. "Look, its nothing. Don't worry about it." She turned her ire on Ron, who gave her a clueless shrug. Her imminent tirade was cut short as two owls swooped through the window, each bearing a copy of the Daily Prophet. Hermione and Arthur each sat down and began to scan through their copies, others grouped around reading over their shoulders.

Hermione flipped quickly through her copy, reading only headlines as though looking for something particular. "How peculiar." She said as she went back to the front page. "There is absolutely nothing in here about last night's police activity."

"Nothing?" Sirius swung around to read more closely over her shoulder; going so far as to reach out and flip through the paper. "Limey bastards. If they don't report it, then they don't have to admit that they were ever wrong about the rebirth of the Death Eaters."

"But this is newsworthy," Arthur said in an almost sarcastic voice. "Respected Ministry employee Walden MacNair has been forced into hiding, fearing for his safety. According to fellow Ministry employee Corey Craven, MacNair received a package from lame-duck Minister Cornelius Fudge's office. The package contained a series of small exploding devices that did a great deal of damage to the office and apparently injured MacNair as well. 'It might well have killed us both if I hadn't had the presence of mind to shove it off the desk first,' Corey told this reporter. 'These scars could have been a lot worse, thank Merlin for stout English oak.' And thank Merlin for responsible citizens like Corey Craven." Arthur made a rude noise before taking a drink of his tea. "Respected Ministry employees my foot."

"Funeral services are being held at Hogwarts on Friday." Hermione said in a depressed tone. There was a moment of palpable silence. She read the passage again. Funeral services are to be held on the grounds at Hogwarts. He will lie in state in the school's main hall until Friday morning. Formal services will be held at 2:00 p.m. Those wishing to attend are asked to arrive at Hogwarts no earlier than 10:00 in the morning. Heavy stomping coming down the stairs and into the kitchen interrupted her reading. She looked up to see Charlie coming into the kitchen.

"Charles, what are you doing up so early this morning?" His mother asked him. Hermione decided not to point out that the only one missing was Ginny. Charlie obviously looked like he was going somewhere. His dragon hide boots, Hebridean Black Hermione judged, were buckled up the outside. His matching jacket was worn, rather than carried. His shoulder length hair was tied back into a short ponytail and his gloves hung on his belt. To complete the ensemble, his wand was inserted into a holster strapped to his left thigh. She thought he looked rather like a drawing she had seen once in a book called "Shadowrun."

"I need to get back to the school." He answered his mother. "I've got some arrangements to make and things to do before school starts in three weeks." He hugged his mother fondly and endured her admonitions to eat properly and dress warmly.

Sirius stood up, "Charlie, want some company back to the school?" Charlie shrugged indifferently and indicated that would be fine as he continued making his good-byes. Sirius turned to Harry. "Don't go taking off for anywhere without letting the adults know where you're going. Actually I think you should stay put right here." Harry rolled his eyes and looked about to say something. "I should be back in a couple of hours." A few minutes later, Charlie and Sirius were gone with a pop.

-----------

The walk from the Hogsmeade Park to the school took the two men about half an hour. On the way Sirius asked a great many questions about the staff, of which only two were left from his own days: Professor McGonagall and Argus Filch. As they approached the school's main door, Sirius could see two large, imposing looking men standing by the door. Bunched up on the stairs below them was a small crowd that looked like it was mostly reporters and their support crews.

Sirius still didn't like dealing with large crowds, particularly crowds of reporters. Without thinking he assumed the form of Padfoot. "Sirius, what are you doing?" Charlie asked, coming to a stop. Sirius resumed his normal form.

"Sorry, don't like reporters. I figured it would be easier to get in if it's Professor Weasley and his dog than if it's Professor Weasley and Sirius Black." Charlie shrugged and nodded his agreement. Sirius again assumed the form of Padfoot and fell in beside Charlie. The two moved through the crowd of reporters, Charlie steadfastly refusing to say a word to their many shouted questions. At the door, they were stopped as two extremely large swords were crossed in front of them.

"Name." Came the hollow intonation from one of the large statues that flanked the doors, facing each other.

"Professor Charlie Weasley and my dog, Padfoot." After a long moment, a second pair of swords came down and crossed, this time behind him. The first pair raised up as the door opened and Charlie entered the castle. Inside the main hall, two men were levitating a large glass case onto a stone structure. Professor McGonagall watched them closely, as did Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Fudge and a host of several other people. Charlie skirted the edge of the hall and approached the Headmistress.

"Yes, Professor Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked out of the corner of her mouth, never taking her eyes from the glass case.

"I need to speak with you." Charlie said in a hushed whisper.

"Wait for me in the Headmaster's," she paused, "my office. I will be up as soon as I can." Charlie headed down the corridor towards the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

It was nearly half an hour later when the headmistress finally opened the door to her office. Charlie and Sirius were seated in front of her desk. The office was no longer the controlled chaos it had been under Dumbledore. Instead, it was strictly organized and meticulously neat. Fawkes sat on his perch at the left of the desk as he always had, his head tucked beneath his wing as he slept. "Now, Professor Weasley, what is it you..." She trailed off, noting that Charlie was not alone.

"Well, Professor, I came by to re-introduce you to Sirius Black, who has some things he would like to talk to you about. I actually need to get going. It's a long way to Tunisia." Without waiting for a response, Charlie slipped out the door and down the hall.

"So, what do you want Mr. Black?" Sirius could tell by her stern look that this wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped. He sat up a little straighter in his chair and gave her his best charming smile, which was starting to recover some of its roguish youthfulness.

"I've come to apply for the position of Transfiguration Professor." The look she gave him was at once grateful and apprehensive. "Think about it; I'm one of only four currently living, registered animagi. I was the top transfiguration student in our year." He ticked off a second finger, as though keeping count. "I'm an Auror. I know this school inside and out. I know secret passages in this school that Filch doesn't even know about." McGonagall crinkled her forehead at this. "Lastly, I can either be here as part of the staff, or I can be here filching food from the kitchens and sleeping on the floor of the Gryffindor common room."

"And why would you be doing that?"

"Because Harry is in more danger now than he has ever been. The Dark Lord has told his inner circle that he intends to kill Harry before the new moon. Yesterday afternoon, Harry was kidnapped from the Headquarters of MLES and taken to Voldemort's mansion." He noticed that McGonagall still flinched at the name. "Over half a dozen agents have died in the last twenty-four hours because of the recent Death Eater activity. All of it designed to weaken the Dark Lord's opposition. Harry is the greatest opposition he has left, and I am not letting Harry out of my sight if I don't have to. Certainly not for nine and a half months while he finishes school."

"There is just one small problem with your idea. You are Sirius Black. The Board of Governors will never allow me to hire you."

"The Board of Governors would also have removed Dumbledore if they knew he was aiding and abetting me for three years while I was a fugitive." Sirius gave her a hard-eyed stare. "I know for a fact that he never asked their permission to hire Remus Lupin." Sirius knew as soon as he said the words that he had over-stepped his bounds. Pushing forty he might be, but Professor McGonagall's stare had the power to bring errant students to heel; and he had been under her stare many times in his student life. He was sure it was more powerful now than it had been twenty five years ago.

"Besides, think of all the stress I'm saving you," he added with his most charming smile. "If you hire me, you don't have to go through that whole finding applicants and interviewing process." Her features softened.

"That's true. The Headmaster had a devil of a time trying to find Defense against the Dark Arts teachers. Very well, Mr. Black." She stood and extended her hand to him. "I will hire you on at the standard rate for a first year Professor. Part of your duties will also include keeping an eye on the Troublesome Trio." Sirius gave her a curious look. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger. They have been more trouble than any group of students since you and James were here. I would actually rather deal with Fred and George Weasley; at least their antics never had life and death consequences." Sirius took her hand and shook it firmly. "I'll need your lesson plans on my desk by Monday morning."

"Right, Monday." Sirius replied, his voice not quite as confident as it had been a few minutes before.

"There's a staff meeting this afternoon at two o'clock. You need to be there."

"Um...okay. I, uh, need to take care of some personal business first. Namely I need to check on Harry and turn in my resignation at MLES."

"Very well, spend today taking care of your other business. Meet me in the main hall tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. We'll get your quarters ready by then." She clapped her hands twice, "Pebbly." What Sirius could only describe as an Elven version of the Headmistress appeared in the doorway. What struck him as queerest of all, was that she wore a full-length gray dress with a white apron and bonnet.

"Yes, madam." She replied in an equally severe voice.

"This is Professor Black. I need to have one of the Professor's flats prepared for him. Could you also find Professor Flitwick and send him to my office please?"

"At once, madam. Should I show the professor to where his quarters will be?"

"No, that's okay. I can show myself out." Sirius watched as the elf disappeared. "Can any of the professors do that?"

"Yes, though if you summon Pebbly, she is likely to be put out with you. She has a great many duties to attend to. In case you don't already know, half of our elves are paid staff and wear regular clothes. It was the Headmaster's hope that all of them would be accept clothes and wages before Miss Granger graduates, though I am not so optimistic."

"I thought it was a grave insult to give clothes to a house elf." Sirius had never really dealt with house elves before. He remembered James's parents had one prior to their deaths and the destruction of their own home during James's seventh year. His family had never been wealthy or powerful enough to need or afford one. "And I didn't remember them being so well spoken."

"It is thanks to the work of Miss Granger that things have changed. Most of them are not as cultured as Pebbly, but that is the reason I put her in charge. Now, if you will excuse me Professor, I have business that I need to attend to."

Sirius showed himself out, and up to the third floor where he found the statue of the one-eyed witch. "Hello, Margaret." The Marauders had taken to calling her Margaret during their school years, though none knew if that was truly her name. "Dissendium." He tapped the witch with his wand and squeezed himself into the small opening. With a bit of struggle he was on his way.

------------

"Harry, why not just take your Apparition test?" Hermione asked as she rolled the parchment scroll down another foot and continued to write.

"Where did you learn so much about Portkeys?" Ginny asked as she flipped through a book on Sphinxes.

"Professor Figg. She had me read several articles in Transfiguration Quarterly on the subject."

"I think it's a brilliant idea." Ron said, removing the sugarquill from his mouth. "Think about, we could each have one, and we could enchant them so that we could use them to signal the other two when there's a problem."

"Why not the other three?" Ginny asked. Suddenly she pulled her book up in front of her face. She hadn't meant to say that. It was the trio, it always had been, always would be. There was no room for a fourth member there.

"What did you say, Gin?"

"Nothing, Ron. I didn't say anything."

"Actually," Hermione said, setting down her quill. "Gin's got a fairly good idea here."

"Are you mental?" Ron interrupted.

"I refuse to put Gin in that kind of danger." Harry added. "If I have to use this, then that means that something is going wrong or that one of us is in danger. The three of us have had this fight, several times, and I can't change your minds. I am not bringing Ginny in on this."

"You never bothered to ask me." Ginny replied hotly. "You're my friend too, Harry." The other three turned and looked at her with astonishment. Ginny had long been adjunct to their little group in peaceful times. She was typically quiet, uncharacteristically so for a Weasley. However, when things got dangerous the three had a tendency to huddle up and block out everyone else. "You think I don't worry when you three go off on one of your escapades? When dad came home without Harry last night, I was frantic." Ginny paused and took a deep breath. "I worry when you guys go running off to save the world, I worry I'm not ever going to see you again." She bit her bottom her lip. She had finally done it. She had laid feelings out on the table for everyone to look at. This wasn't just about Harry; it was about all of them.

"Ginny," Harry said, placing his hand over her own on the table. "I can't allow you to put yourself in that kind of danger on my account. I would feel terrible if something happened to you because of me. Think about it Gin, everybody close to me is a target. I don't want you to be a target." Ginny was listening to Harry, but was watching her brother. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to laugh. Ron was bouncing his head back and forth between his shoulders as he mouthed Harry's every word. Harry followed Ginny's eyes to see what Ron was doing. As soon as Harry turned his head, Ron folded his hands in his lap and looked at the ceiling, whistling tunelessly.

"Shut it, Ron."

"Harry, it seems to me you've had this argument before, and you lost it all three times." Ron gave Harry and Ginny both a very serious look. "I don't like the idea of my sister being in danger. On the other hand, I can't discount what she's saying because I've said the same things myself." Ginny could have kissed Ron at that moment. Finally, she was getting support from the one place she had never expected it. Ron had always treated her like his baby sister. Now he was sticking up for her.

"I've got an idea." Hermione said. "Ginny, would you be willing to be our contact to the outside world?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if we all have to go somewhere because one of us is in trouble, we may not be able to tell anybody else. If you knew that we had all had to activate our keys, then you could tell somebody else that there was a problem. You could go to McGonagall, or your parents, or somebody." The other three all gave her a dubious look. "Think about it. Harry, if you had this last night, you could have gone straight to where ever and Ginny could have told Molly. Ron and I could have gone to help, and Ginny wouldn't have been in any danger." She looked back and forth between Ron and Harry, her eyes challenging them as only she could.

Ginny was not entirely pleased with the idea of being their "outside contact", but given how adamant Harry had been about her not being put in danger it was better than nothing, and the group did need some kind of outside help on occasion. "I could do that, I guess."

"Thank you, Ginny." Harry said, squeezing her hand. Hermione smiled at Ginny, even Ron seemed pleased by how everything had turned out.

"So, Harry, what are you thinking of using?" Hermione asked.

"I was thinking rings would work best."

"And you could have them come back here." Ron interjected.

"Absolutely not, I am not putting your entire family in danger with these. I need it to be a neutral place that is familiar to me. I don't want to use the school, because that wouldn't do any good if I'm trying to escape the school. I was thinking about using the Godric's Hollow Memorial Park."

"That's where they have the Phoenix Memorial fountain," supplied Hermione. "Wait a minute. Harry, didn't you live in Godric's Hollow?"

"So I've been told."

"Is the park anywhere near your parent's house?" Hermione asked in a cautious voice, knowing she was treading on unstable ground.

"Actually, it's where my parent's house was. My parents are still there." Seeing the confused expressions on his friends' faces he added, "They're buried on the south edge of the park in a grove of cherry trees. Aghh!" Suddenly Harry grabbed his left arm and held it to his stomach.

"Harry. Where are you?" It was Mrs. Figg's voice echoing through his skull. "Harry, I know you can hear me. Place your wand hand over the mark and think your reply." Harry did as he was bade, and the hollow thudding in his head and burning sensation in his arm both dropped to tolerable levels.

"I'm at the Burrow, Professor, trying to finish this mountain of homework." He made a conscious effort to mask any other random thoughts he had. He also had to make a very concerted effort not to respond to Ginny, whose face was twisted up in consternation.

"Good, I just received a letter from the interim leader of the Order. She's called an emergency meeting for eight o'clock tonight. I expect a new Lord of the Phoenix will be selected."

"Do you want me to meet you somewhere?"

"You and Sirius are to meet me in the main hall at eight o'clock."

"Aye, captain."

"Smart-arse." Harry felt the connection release. It occurred to him that the third member of the triangle never identified himself. The more he thought about the clearer it became that the third member was a man, but not anyone he knew.

"Harry?" Harry looked toward the voice. Ginny's eyes were filled with concern as she watched his most minute movement. "Are you okay?" Harry shot a pleading look over to Ron.

"It's nothing, Gin, let it lie."

"I didn't ask you, Ron." She gave Harry a probing look, in response Harry simply shrugged and gave her a half-hearted smile. "Fine, it's nothing," Ginny let out a sigh and leaned back in her chair. Harry knew she wasn't really fine with this answer, but he was genuinely trying to protect her. Getting her involved with the Order would certainly not protect her. With a shake of his head, he bent his own will back to his potions essay, and soon the room was filled with silence broken only by the turning of crackling parchment pages and scratching quills.

---------------------

"Sirius, I really don't think this is a good idea." Harry and Sirius were walking several paces ahead of Ron and Hermione, but Harry glanced over his shoulder again to make sure that they weren't listening in. The white walls of St. Mungo's looked like they could have transported right out of the hospital where Petunia had been just a few weeks before.

"Hermione said they used to study together. It's not that a big a deal."

"Look, you don't know Ron that well. This could be really bad if he finds out." Harry was clenching his teeth to keep from shouting. He hoped it would go off smoothly, that no one would figure it out, and they could all just leave peacefully afterward.

"Don't worry. I talked to Liz this afternoon, she isn't going to say anything. She is looking forward to seeing everybody though." Sirius stopped outside of a room with the door closed. "The only way anyone is going to find out is if you or I tell, so just keep your mouth shut."

"You know, I wouldn't be worried about this if you hadn't told me, I had no idea."

"Yeah, well, I had to tell somebody."

"Thanks." Sirius shrugged and opened the door as Ron and Hermione strolled up to join them. Hermione was carrying a small vase of flowers and a get well card that she had picked up in the gift shop. "Yeah, everything will be just fine." Harry shook his head and went through the open door. Liz was lying in bed, a stuffed dog on the pillow next to her as she read what looked to be the evening paper. "Hi, Liz."

"Hey, Harry." She said looking up from her paper. "Can you believe this crap, not a word about last night." Elizabeth's eyes opened wide, "Ron?"

"Hi," he answered with a bashful little dip of his head. Harry noticed that his ears were turning a nice shade of rosy pink. He fought down a little laugh at how easily Ron embarrassed in the presence of women. "How's the ribs?" Ron let go of Hermione's hand and went over to sit on the bed. Elizabeth sat up and threw her arms around Ron. She squeezed him tightly and lay her head against his shoulder. Harry watched as Ron gingerly put his own arms around Elizabeth in return. "Ow," Ron said in a strained voice after a several long seconds had passed.

"What's the matter, are you okay; I didn't hurt you, did I?" Ron gave her a grimacing smile and put his hands to his ribs. "What is it?" Elizabeth asked in a cautious tone.

"My ribs are a little sore." He shrugged it off, but Elizabeth wasn't about to give up so easily. After a little badgering, he lifted the right side of his shirt. Hermione and Elizabeth both gasped at the same time. Harry was glad to see they looked better than they had in the morning. Ron's ribs were coated over with a light purple bruise that was an ugly black and blue in a spot a few inches down from his right breast. Hermione moved over next to Ron as Elizabeth reached out her hand and laid it on his chest. If Harry didn't know better he'd have thought the Hermione was jealous. He shot a significant look at his godfather, who was flipping through the paper and ignoring the situation around him.

"Is that?" Elizabeth reached out and laid her finger on the worst of the bruise. "Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Ron shrugged it off. "We're bruisin' buddies now. Kind of like bosom buddies, except we don't hang out in bars and pick up chicks together." Harry thought he was going to die as he began choking on the drink of water he had poured himself. Sirius reached over and thumped him solidly on the back several times. Harry looked up in time to see Elizabeth shoot Sirius a withering look. Sirius responded with a confused shrug. Harry sighed with inward relief as he noticed that Ron and Hermione both looked confused by the whole exchange.

Mercifully, the moment passed quickly and Elizabeth turned back to Ron. "Maybe we can get Dr. Branford to look at that. The only bruise I have left is from the actual entry wound. He does really good work." Ron answered with a non-committal shrug and a grunt. "Hermione, how have you been?"

"Good, and you?" Hermione leaned over and gave Elizabeth a warm and friendly hug. Harry watched carefully for signs of anything amiss. Other than Elizabeth looking quite a bit healthier than she had when he had last seen her twenty-four hours earlier, all looked normal.

"I've been better." Her smile beamed as she accepted the vase of flowers from Hermione. The small talk continued on for half an hour until Sirius and Harry declared that they needed to get going. With a final round of hugs, the four trooped out the door and down the hall to St. Mungo's Floo Portal.

"Well, kids, Harry and I will see you in the morning."

"You're not coming back to the Burrow?" Ron asked.

"You are master of the obvious, aren't you?" Harry teased his friend. "Sirius and I have somewhere we have to be in half an hour." He shifted the weight of his backpack, suddenly self-conscious of not having told them what was going on.

"This has to do with whatever that bit with your arm was." Hermione accused him. "What aren't you telling us?" She leveled a very convincing don't-you-keep-secrets- from-me stare on Harry.

"I'll tell you tomorrow. I'll probably tell Ginny, too." Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and ignored the raised eyebrows of his friends. "Even if it is against my better judgement." He didn't like hiding things from them, even from Ginny; but he had things to do. Things that weighed heavily on his soul, and he didn't want the burden of telling his friends and then having to go against their advice. Harry turned to the oversized hearth and cast in a pinch of Floo powder, "The Three Broomsticks." Harry turned to his friends, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, and if you do, don't name it after me." Rather than face Hermione's look of indignation, Harry jumped into the fire and was gone with a whoosh.

------------

When Harry and Sirius arrived at Hogwarts, a crowd was gathered in the main hall. Most of them were people that Harry did not recognize, but a couple of faces were familiar. "Harry, how good to see ye again." The voice was familiar and accented heavily with an Irish brogue. Harry looked up to see a woman with ash blonde hair coming toward him.

"Delia O'Day, nice to see you too. What's it been, a whole week?" She smiled at him, though her mirth failed to reach her eyes. He thought she looked ten years older than she had at his initiation ceremony eight days earlier.

"About that," she replied in her soft voice. Harry extended his hand and shook hers companionably. He was glad that Sirius had thought to bring dark robes for the two of them; he would have felt very out of place in his jeans and trainers. "I believe Arabella is looking for ye. Last time I saw her, she was o'er by Dumbledore's casket." Harry nodded his acknowledgement, not trusting himself to actually say anything. He excused himself and went in search of Mrs. Figg.

No sooner had he found her than Delia called for the attention of the room by rapping a large staff on the floor. "Members o' the Order o' the Phoenix!" she called in her rich Irish voice. Harry watched as she slowly rose into the air, floating about four feet above the floor. "Thank ye. It is with much sadness that I convene this meeting. T'night we mourn the passing o' Albus Dumbledore, a man who has been our leader for o'er twen'y years. I can't speak with the eloquence that Albus did, so I won' e'en try." She stepped forward and laid her hand on the glass coffin in which the former Lord of the Phoenix now lay. "Albus, we'll miss ye, be well where e'er ye are. May ye be with friends and surrounded by love."

There was several seconds of silence. "From the ashes of this loss we are born strong again." Mrs. Figg's voice was strong and seemed to fill the large Main Hall. Harry listened in awe as the group responded as one. "From the ashes of this loss we are born strong again." Harry was surprised to find his voice had joined that of the others, and that he had known exactly what to say. The silence that filled the air afterward was oppressive. After a minute, Harry thought he might say something just to break the palpable tension.

Harry was distracted by movement off to his left; he glanced over to see Winky carrying a tray of drinks. She held the tray out to him. It appeared that there were glasses of champagne or shots of whiskey. A glance at Sirius revealed that he had taken a shot of whiskey, Harry did the same.

"Rest well, our Lord, rest well." Harry watched as Delia O'Day raised her eyes to the assembly. "We have many things to do this night and much to discuss. As some o' you may or may not be aware, last night a blow was struck against our enemy. He sought to take one o' our own as a hostage. However, by the happenstance o' the efforts of many he was quickly located in the dungeons o' Voldemort's manor house. Some o' you among us tonight were part o' that strike, and a hearty 'thank ye' is due ye. So thank ye, and here's to the fire of faithfulness that burns e'er bright within ye." She raised a glass of champagne.

"To the fire." Harry raised his glass in salute along with the rest of the assembled guests, then slammed home the shot of whiskey, which burned all the way down to his stomach. He closed his eyes and shook his head as he cleared away the last of the burning by drawing a deep breath.

"That'll put hair on your chest." Sirius clapped down his heavy hand on Harry's back. Harry saw the pleased look on Sirius's face. He cast a quick look to his left and was relieved to see that Mrs. Figg was also giving him a small, if guarded, smile.

"Thanks," Harry gave Sirius a weak smile. His attention was drawn again to Delia as she began to speak in a more formal tone.

"As our final official order o' business, we must select a new Lord o' the Phoenix. For those o' you that have never done this before, it is done by silent ballot. Those wishing to serve in the post will have a few minutes to speak to the group. Then the votes will be cast into this." She held up a plain wooden goblet, blue white fire danced within its bowl. Harry stared in shock at the item that had nearly cost him his life. "After the vote has been cast, the goblet will reveal the next Lord of the Phoenix to us, based upon our common selection and its own magic."

Harry, like everyone else in the hall, waited expectantly for the first person to stand up and speak, to put forth his or her name. Inside him, his emotions roiled and churned. Some deep part of himself was telling him he should step up, that he should do this. Just the day before he had said to Mrs. Figg that he felt responsible, that he felt he should lead since he was the target. The moment of truth weighed on his heart like a stone as he battled himself on a sub-conscious level. He shifted his weight and the Sword of Gryffindor, secreted beneath his robes, touched his leg. It sent a jolt through him that straightened his spine and made everything clear. He was the Heir; he was the leader of this fight. He was responsible for an entire generation of witches and wizards, he could rally support to the cause like only one other man, who was now gone. His path now determined the weight in his chest lightened as he strode to the front of the hall.

By the time he reached the front of the hall to stand next to Delia, he was standing at her level. For a fraction of a moment he wondered how this was so, but then realized he had been walking up an incline the entire time, he was performing magic at a level that wasn't even conscious anymore. Taking a deep breath, he felt the presence of Godric drape over him like a cloak.

*

Sirius watched as Harry turned to face the assembled crowd. What is he doing? Sirius asked himself. Only what his grandfather had done, only what his father would have done, rushing in where angels fear to tread. He fought down the urge to say something, to tell Harry to come down from there. Harry was a young man, and Sirius knew that treating him as a child now would serve no purpose except embarrassing him and destroying his credibility. With a sigh he put his hands in his pockets and turned his face to watch his godson be like his father. Arabella Figg tapped his arm and gave him a knowing look, and a wry smile.

"I am Harry Potter, some of you I know, many of you I don't. However, we all stand here tonight united in one purpose, to see that evil does not triumph. We stand here in this place, on this night, because a great leader has fallen; stricken down by a fiend that would strike fear into our hearts, the hearts of our friends and our families, the hearts of our neighbors and our countrymen. Yet here we stand, in defiance of all that our enemy stands for. We will not cowed, we will not be made fearful. We are strong, knowing that evil can only flourish so long as good men do nothing; we are the good men, and women, that will do something." Harry paused and raked the audience with his gaze; Sirius felt a shiver as it passed over him.

"As I look out over you, I see men and women who have sacrificed and fought and bled in wars that were memory long before I was born. I stand before you knowing that many of you have more experience than I, more knowledge, more wisdom, even more magic. However, I stand before you because I cannot stand aside and allow you to fall in my stead while the Dark Lord hunts for me in his attempts to regain power. I stand before you because I believe that I can ask no more of those around me than I am first willing to give of myself." Sirius was beginning to wonder if Harry would ever stop amazing him. From the moment he had met Harry, he had known he was something special. He gave Harry a reassuring smile.

Harry responded with a bemused smile of his own. As Sirius watched he wasn't sure if it was some trick of the light or what, but Harry seemed to stand taller. His shoulders seemed broader, his robe seemed to billow out around him, and the egg shaped rubies in the pommel of the Sword of Gryffindor flashed in the light of the sun streaming through the windows. Sirius thought that he might well cast his vote for Harry, despite his trepidation at the danger Harry would obviously be in. Sirius glanced around the gathered host and saw that several of the other members were watching Harry with rapt attention. He drew the attention of Arabella Figg and motioned at the others. She nodded in reluctant agreement; as though she too knew that what was coming was inevitable and raging against it would not change a thing.

Harry descended from where he stood and a cloud passed over the sun outside, leaving the room cast into deep shadow thrown by torches that flickered in their sconces. A long moment passed, and no one else spoke up nor stepped up to the perch where Harry had stood. Finally, Delia spoke up again. "Gathered members o' the Order, let us cast our vote. Bring forth yer vote for yay or nay and cast it into the Goblet o' Fire."

Against his better judgement, Sirius cast his vote for Harry, and Arabella indicated she had done the same. For several long minutes the twenty some members of the Order of the Phoenix cast their votes in silence, each keeping close their own counsel as to whether or not Harry Potter should be installed as the next Lord of the Phoenix. After some time had passed, the fire in the goblet turned a sparkling emerald green and spit forth a single piece of paper. Delia plucked the slip of paper from the fire and unrolled it. "It has been decided, " she addressed them, "that Harry Potter shall serve as the Lord o' the Phoenix. May strength and wisdom be upon him."

Fawkes dove from the vaulted rafters above and alighted on Harry's shoulder. With a single cry, he confirmed Harry's appointment. "Strength and wisdom," replied the gathered host in one strong voice. Sirius placed a hand on his godson's shoulder. Arabella joined them as well and the three shared a look of grim determination.