Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Chapter14

Preparations

The following Tuesday, it was Hermione's birthday, and the Order held a private party for her in the Kitchens, with the help of Dobby and the other House Elves. Ginny had knitted her a muffler for when the weather would, invariably get colder. Ron had bought her a book-clip for her wand, so she could read in the dark, and Harry bought her a book he had found in Flourish and Blotts entitled "The Dark Arts? - How "Dark Magic" Can Be Useful But Harmless!"

The following Friday, the same fate that befell James Potter's books awaited Harry Potter's latest birthday present from Hermione. Over the previous week, Harry had woken up every morning from the strange dream in a cold sweat, and feeling emptier and emptier all the time. By now all had managed to complete their transformations. Only Hermione was having trouble holding her owl form unconsciously, whilst she was more than adept at holding her form whilst wide awake. Harry could hold his Sphynx self for an hour, and a half, and, with his knees buckled underneath him, he found sleeping as a stag on his bed remarkably comfortable. He did, however, make certain that Dobby woke him at seven o'clock in the morning so as to pre-empt any disturbance from his room mates. That Friday night, they had congregated in Dumbledore's office, and performed the same enchantments. Hermione didn't mind that the books were burned, because that way, they would never get into the wrong hands. They woke up in the Hospital wing the following morning, all in a row this time. All agreed that this wasn't something to be done every day!

The weeks passed in a blinding flash. Gryffindor held the tryouts and consequently had a full complement of players and replacements. Unsurprisingly - according to the Twins - Ginny had tried out and proved to be quite the admirable Chaser. Very surprisingly - according to everyone - Hermione proved to be a remarkably effective Beater. Both had made the reserves. When questioned, or rather grilled by her Housemates about this, Hermione simply smiled archly.

"How else am I going to vent my frustration for you lot? Telling you off never seems to work, and this way I have a better target for my frustration - One that will appreciate my efforts and take notice!"

"But you HATED flying on Buckbeak!"

"Harry! I had no control! I HATE not being in control. Buckbeak is a beautiful creature with fire, pride, and dignity. In fact, I hope to learn that transformation next! But you were in control of Buckbeak, Harry, not me. And as much as I love you and trust you, when I am hundreds of feet up in the air, I would prefer it to be under my own direction. With a broomstick, I get that, unless of course, Voldemort is trying to knock me off!"

"Touché!"

"Thank you!"

Harry, however, had one last trump card before he laid his hand in defeat. "But in the first ever flying lesson, it took you ages to get your broom in the air?"

"True, but you above all should know, Harry, that if you've got spirit and determination, natural ability isn't necessary, although it certainly might help! I believe that this one is mine, Harry?"

"I concede without reluctance!"

A few weeks later, on the Saturday morning before Halloween, Harry was sitting down to breakfast. He had been looking progressively worse in the mornings from the repetitions of his nightmares. It appeared that the rest of The Order were steeling themselves to confront him about it. A flock of owls had come, as usual, with the post. Malfoy appeared to have the usual parcel of sweets, Hedwig brought Harry's latest order of Eeylop's Owl Treats, and another owl brought the paper. Harry put seven Knuts in the pouch on the owl's leg, and opened the paper to read. More false alarms. Nothing new. Harry was unsure how he felt. On the one hand, he felt relieved that, for the moment, nobody was dying. On the other hand, the ministry was still being led a merry chase, and this was somewhat disquieting.

"Oh well!" Harry said. "Off to Hogsmeade!"

It had been something they'd been thinking about for some time, as all four of them entered Zonko's. How could this be done? What would they do? Could they use their new-found talents to cheat, or would it be too early to reveal. Harry and Hermione thought probably so, Ginny and Ron thought why not and it would be a blast! They had found out last night that the students from across all of the Years from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons would be joining them, and they all wanted to make a good impression. They would be arriving in the same manner as the previous year, the Durmstrang students by Galleon, and the Beauxbatons students by a rather large Horse and Trap, although, because of the sheer numbers that would be present, there would be seven carriages, one for each year. Then something there caught his eye. He picked it up, and began to read...

Fleur was with them, and the conversation turned back to the dance itself.

"Alors, Fleur, qu'est-ce que tu y penses? Tu veux bien voir tes vieux profs et tes vieux amis d'école?"

"I don't know, 'Ermione. On ze one 'and, of course it is super to see zem again, but on ze ozzer 'and, of course zere are some I did not get on too well wiz, and of course, I am ver' 'appy to be no longer an étudiante myself. 'Owever, it will be vraiment intéréssant to see if ze teachers 'ave changed so much in ze last four munse!"

"And what were the other students like? The younger ones, I mean?" added Harry. "Were there any you particularly did or didn't get on with?"

"Ouais, zere were some 'oo were quite friendly, but, euh, I do not know if zey are ze same any more. People can change in even a few munse."

"Some people NEVER change, though!" Ron said. Harry snorted. Fleur stared at Harry, frowning slightly.

"I'm sorry Fleur. It's just something Ron said."

"De rien. Donc, vous avez décidés votre costume?" All four looked at each other.

"Ouais!"

"No!" said Harry, grinning. "You are just going to have to wait and see!"

Then, to Harry's surprise, Fleur started speaking another language, addressing Ginny directly. A language that was most definitely NOT French.

"MA?" Ginny exclaimed, before giving it a moment's thought, and saying, "Beel?" Fleur nodded, and Ginny added "Mazel g'dol!"

"Todah!" Fleur replied, blushing. There followed a brief conversation between Fleur and Ginny in this strange language, with many smiles and giggles thrown in. Ron appeared to be trying to follow what they were saying but got lost early on and didn't bother to try to regain his grasp on the conversation.

They staggered their journeys to the counter to pay for their items so nobody saw each other's final costume choice, although of course they could all speculate, after all, they had the whole shop to think of.

Finally, having paid for their costumes, they all made their way to the Three Broomsticks. Harry went to the bar to collect their drinks, whilst the other four took a table off to one side.

"Five Butterbeers please, Madame Rosemerta."

"Hello Harry! How are you, love? Haven't seen you in a while. My goodness, you're looking more and more like James every day. Who are you in with?"

"My friends, at that table over there. Well, one of them is my French teacher. It's a new subject at Hogwart's, French. Fleur is her name, the girl with the silvery-blond hair. Then, there's Hermione Granger with the brown hair, and Ron and Ginny Weasely, with the red hair."

"And which one of these lovely ladies is your special one?"

"WHAT?" he sputtered. "I... I don't have a girlfriend. Why would I? Who would want to?" He looked exceedingly hot. He knew perfectly well whom he'd LIKE to be his 'special friend', but he couldn't see that happening any time soon.

"Well I can think of a few ladies who might be interested!" Madame Rosmerta said, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously. Harry blushed crimson. "Get on with you Harry, dear! I'm just playing with you. You'd better get back to your table, they're looking awfully thirsty!"

"What's the matter with YOU?" Ron said, laughing. "You look as if Moaning Myrtle's been eyeing you up again!"

"Not Moaning Myrtle!" Harry replied glumly.

"WHO?"

"Madame Rosmerta. Although I think she was only joking." He added quickly, seeing the amused look on Ron's face.

"Peut-être." Fleur mused. "Il te faut bien savoir que t'est vachement beau, 'Arry!"

"Ouais, d'accord!" Hermione said, in agreement.

"You're joking, aren't you?" Harry said, miserably. How could anyone think him remotely...? Sure, he had heard some of the girls mention it casually in passing, but surely they were just joking...?

"So, Fleur!" Ginny said, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "Who will you be supporting in Quidditch? Or aren't you allowed to favour anyone, as a teacher?"

"But of course, I will be, 'oping zat Gryffondor wins. Especially against ze serpents, yes! I just like to see a good game of Quiddeesh, so you beat ze Malfoy, boy, Harry, yes! But, beat 'im fairly, so ze only person 'e can be angry wiv is 'imself!"

"Speaking of Malfoy, how is he? Do you enjoy teaching him?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Well, of all of my students, 'e is ze worst. 'E simply will not put ze, euh, effort into 'is work. Even Messieurs Crabbe et Goyle, are ameliorating zeir Frensh!"

"Je ne dirai RIEN, quoi!" Harry said, smirking, whilst Ron was looking like Noël had come early.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked thoughtful. "Have you had much cause to take House Points away from the Slytherins yet? Away from Malfoy yet?"

"Hélas, ouais! Ze Slyzerins, zey 'ave my class wiv ze 'Ufflepuffs, and Malfoy, euh, 'e insulted Monsieur Finsh-Fleshé. I am not certaine what it was 'e said, but, euh, ze 'Ufflepuffs, zey were at zeir feet in ze moment, looking at 'im wiv ze meurdre aux yeux."

&ld;Il lui a appellé "Sangsal", ou même chose?" Hermione asked, cheeks flushing furiously.

"Ouais, c'est vrais!" Fleur replied with a heavy sigh. "I took twenty points from Slyzerin for zis."

"Fleur," Harry began, going somewhat quiet. It might very well be difficult for Fleur to understand such a concept.

"Yes, 'Arry?" She prompted kindly.

"Do you, er..." another awkward pause.

"It is alright, 'Arry. We are just friends talking, 'ere. You may ask wivout ze embarrassment."

"It's just that..." he took a deep breath. "Do you actually understand what he meant by the term..." he looked apologetically at Hermione. She shook her head and gave him a gentle "it's okay" smile. "By the term... 'Mudblood'?"

Fleur shook her magnificent mane. "Zat is what Drago called Justin, but, no I do not understand. What is ze insult?"

"It is insulting," Ron began angrily. "Because gits like Malfoy and his family believe that they are better than everyone else because they are an All-Wizarding family. They think that people born of entirely Muggle families are the lowest of the low, more so than, say, House Elves and Flobberworms. And so they go around insulting Muggle-Borns, and their friends, because they believe that they have no Wizarding Pride. It is nonsense. I mean You-Know-"

"RON!" Hermione scolded.

"Sorry, Hermione. Force of habit. I mean, Voldemort is a half blood, and he is the main culprit. He was responsible for Moaning Myrtle dying fifty three years ago!"

"Zat young girl phantome?"

"Yes."

"Ah, yes! A girl 'oo 'as suffered at her own hands, as much as another's."

"You WHAT?" Ron exclaimed.

"C'est vrai! You only 'ave to look at 'er to know that it is so."

"How do you know this?"

"It is obvious!"

"Can't be THAT obvious if Hermione hasn't seen it!"

"Yes Ron, but you must remember that to Veela, the human emotion is very easy to read. Not just in terms of love, but hate as well. By the sounds of it, she has done something that she is unhappy about, or she is upset because she couldn't do something, and that is why she is still here. Is that a fair analogy, Fleur?"

"Oui, c'est exactemment correct. Zat is right. And it is certain what she is un'appy about."

"What is it Fleur?"

"Hélas! It is not my place to sy such sings. She must tell you 'erself."

The four of them nodded their understanding, and, finishing off their butterbeers, they all made their way back to Hogwarts.

A bright and pleasantly warm Tuesday afternoon found classes finishing at three o'clock, in preparation to welcome the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. The students quickly congregated in the grounds by the lake, arranged in houses and year groups. Professor McGonagall stood at the head of Gryffindor house, Professor Sprout at the head of Hufflepuff, Professor Flitwick at the head of Ravenclaw, and Professor Fletcher at the head of Slytherin. The other teachers, along with Professor Dumbledore stood of to one side. At three thirty, a gentle ripple spread across the lake. Slowly the ripples became more violent and soon, the tip of a mast was visible. A flag bearing the Durmstrang crest appeared, sopping wet, followed closely by Main and Gib sails, the sheets vibrating against the strong gust of wind the upraising of the ship had brought about. And finally, the main body of the Galleon, a magnificent night-time black, made its way into view. As the ship followed the groove onto land, which it had cut for itself the previous year, Dumbledore began to clap his hands together in applause, and soon the whole of Hogwarts had joined him. As the gangplank was lowered to ground, the first students made their way down it to solid ground, and amongst them stood a tall, pale figure with long silver hair, and wild blue eyes. Her robes were of a magnificent midnight blue, lined with the fur of, what appeared to be, an arctic fox.

"What is it with Bulgarians and Veela?" Harry wondered, laughing?

"Well we girls are always the more intelligent!" Ginny began, mocking.

"Yeah," Hermione giggled. "And so they are probably used to keep the attention of you poor pathetic boys!"

"If you remember last year" Harry retorted. "Roger Davies was hardly listening to a word Fleur said!"

"Just goes to show how pathetic you boys really are!" Hermione punched him playfully on the arm. Ginny, who was standing next to a girl, whom Harry had seen before but didn't know by name, chuckled, earning curious looks from those around her.

The lady made her way down the gangplank, accompanied by the inane, vacant stares of the majority of the male students. Even Ron, who had just about managed to rid himself of the effects that Fleur could have on the students, felt his eyes widened. He looked to Harry for help, but he just stared back at him, highly amused. Even Hermione looked like she wanted to laugh out loud.

"Now THAT'S an entrance!" she said, looking as if she were about to lose control any second.

She walked, or rather, floated down past the seventh years, the sixth years, the fifth years, all the way down past the first years to where Dumbledore was standing. He stepped forward, a kind smile twitching at his beard, she extended her right hand and he took it in his own, giving a low bow and brushing his lips lightly across the knuckles.

"Ah, my dear Freulenka Diminova, Welcome! Welcome to Hogwarts! It has been far too long. How are you finding your new position?"

"It is, vonderful, my dear Dumbledore. I haff learnt many things in the few months since my appointment as Headmistress. I hope our wisit finds you in good health."

"Never better, my good lady, never better! Will you stay with us to welcome our guests from Beauxbatons, or would you care to go inside to begin getting ready for the ball?"

"They vill be here soon, yes?"

"Within the quarter hour."

"Then ve vill be more than happy to velcome them vith you. After all, this is an alliance of brotherhood is it not?"

"My sentiments exactly!" said Dumbledore, beaming at his Bulgarian counterpart. Professor Diminova turned away from Dumbledore and beckoned to her students and staff who filed out of their Galleon in year groups, and houses. The colour of the fur on their cloaks seemed to represent their houses, and the Hogwarts students spread apart to make room for their Bulgarian counterparts. Tom Blackwood, a Seventh Year Ravenclaw, and Head Boy, stood forward and shook the first Student who came to his side by the hand, and everyone else soon followed suit.

Harry stood next to a rather tall girl with curly shoulder-length jet-black hair and sparkling green eyes. She stared at him curiously before extending a delicate hand rather tentatively.

"Hoya! Hiesmoy," she said quietly, slowly, touching the blade of her other hand to her chest. "Natalia Borosheva."

"Hello." Harry replied, taking her hand and shaking it warmly. "My name is...," he too touched the blade of his other hand to his chest. "Hie... hie..."

"Hee - ess - moy..." Natalia said, helping him.

"Thank you." he said, nodding his appreciation. "Hiesmoy Harry Potter." Her eyes widened at this, but she said nothing.

Harry turned to see whom Ron and Hermione were talking to, but they, and their partners were looking at him, staring open-mouthed. Natalia had looked away shyly. Harry was blushing furiously, trying to understand what on earth was going on.

Moments later, Dumbledore stood before them, Professor Diminova at his side. First she addressed her students in rapid Bulgarian, the only words Harry thought he possibly recognised were eshtudientye, Beauxbatons, Quvidditchye, Gryffindor and Slytherin, and then it was Professor Dumbledore's turn.

"Ladies and gentlemen. The students from Beauxbatons will be arriving in a few minutes. When they do, you will greet them as you have greeted our fellow students from Durmstrang, and then we will all make our way into the school. You will accept them into your houses and into your dormitories. One of the purposes for you all being here is to give the House Elves time to prepare your dormitories to house them as well. They will be your Room Mates until Sunday. They will be here to participate in the Halloween Costume Ball, to partake in lessons, to get a taste of English Culture, or lack thereof!" a few of the students laughed or booed at this. "And to watch the first Quidditch game of the Season, Gryffindor Versus Slytherin." There was a loud cheer at this. The Durmstrang students looked around curiously, before, after a nod from their Headmistress, they began to cheer too. "Ah! Calm down now, everyone. Here they come!"

At this announcement, which Professor Diminova repeated for her students, an expectant hush fell across the masses, and they all looked up, waiting, watching.

"THERE!"

"DORTYA!"

Dennis Creevey, a small mousy-haired Second Year pointed up at the sky excitedly, as did the boy next to him, who dwarfed him by several inches. As heads turned to the direction pointed out, a convoy of Horse-and-Traps floated lightly from the distant clouds, slowly descending upon them. Harry remembered this entrance very well, watching the marvellous winged Horses gracefully touch down onto the field not far away from where the ship was docked. As Dumbledore once again began the applause, the doors flew open majestically and a small set of steps fell onto the floor. Out of the first carriage stepped a monstrous woman, a thick mane fell about her shoulders, a magnificent string of opals around her neck. Seeing her, Harry smiled. His smile broadened further when he spied Hagrid quickly rearranging his robes and puffing out his chest. Dumbledore smiled at her, looking as if she was a most pleasant surprise. He greeted her in the same fashion as he had greeted Freulenka Diminova, this time, tall as he was, hardly having to incline his head in the slightest in order to kiss the knuckle presented to him.

Raising his inclined head, he said "My dear Madame Maxime! Welcome! Welcome! We were hardly expecting you! Is all well?" Harry noticed the steely glint in his eye and his careful choice of words.

Apparently Madame Maxime had caught his meaning as well, for, with a meaningful look in her own eye, she replied "Sings can always be better, mon cher Dumbly-dorr, but I 'ave not many complaints, for ze moment."

"Very good," said Dumbledore, bowing his head towards her. "Well now that you are here, all that remains is for your students to meet those already here, and then we will take you inside and show you your quarters."

"And 'Agrid will be taking care of ze 'orses again?"

"Bien sûr!"

"Bien!" she replied. Then, gesturing over to her awaiting students, she called "Alors, venez vites, hein!"

The Beauxbatons students made there way slowly, shyly towards the students in their year, who seemed to correspond with their own houses. They all wore crisp white shirts and blouses; the colours of the collars seemed to indicate the houses in these particular uniforms. Their robes were of the same silk material that Harry had seen last year at the Tri-Wizard tournament.

As one of the Fifth Years stopped next to him he looked up. Looking back at him, or rather staring back at him, was a rather tall girl with curly shoulder length jet-black hair, and sparkling green eyes. Harry thought she looked a little familiar. She extended a delicate hand rather tentatively.

"Salut! Je m'appelle," she said quietly, slowly, touching the blade of her other hand to her chest. "Marie Blaireau."

"Salut, Marie!" Harry replied, taking her hand and shaking it warmly. "Je m'appelle Harry Potter." Her eyes widened at this, but she said nothing.

"Hoya, Marie!" Natalia said in greeting, again touching her chest. "Hiesmoy Natalia Boro... she... va..." she looked up as she extended her hand, and stopped dead, mouth open in shock.

"Tawny? King? HELP!"

Ron and Hermione looked away temporarily from their own partners to see what was going on. What they saw, drained the colour from their faces, and practically unhinged their jaws.

"Uh, Ginny!" Hermione said quietly. "You might want to have a look at this."

Ginny who was originally standing next to Hermione, looked across, and what she saw made her blanche, and nearly made her faint. Marie and Natalia were staring at each other, transfixed. Harry remembered exactly what this was like, looking into the Mirror of Erised, and seeing yourself and what you most wanted in the entire world. However the space surrounding them appeared to be the mirror. Harry looked between one girl and the other. Were they to be wearing the same clothes, he should not be able to tell them apart! He removed and cleaned his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and replaced his glasses, worrying that he was suffering from double vision due to some tiredness or malady. He looked again. There was no doubt about it. They were carbon copies. He glanced at Ron and Hermione and noticed them staring - Not at Marie or Natalia - they were staring at him.

"Harry?" Ginny, who had also been staring at him, began uncertainly. "When in the name of all that is holy were you planning on telling us that you were a triplet?"