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Harry Potter and the Demons Within by padfootmoony13
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Harry Potter and the Demons Within

padfootmoony13

Chapter 6- Explanations from the Order

A minute later Harry, Lupin, Tonks, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were all gathered at one end of the large dining table, steaming cups of tea set in front of them by Mrs. Weasley. Everyone held a serious demeanor, which pleased Harry as it was a sign that they were taking him seriously. He could tell that they were prepared to divulge quite a few classified secrets against regulation, and he could not help but smile discreetly to himself in the pleasure of the slight power he now held within the Order.

Restless to get started with his questioning, Harry quietly cleared his throat, indicating he was ready to begin.

Lupin, who had been staring straight ahead at nothing, lowered his cup of tea, saying, "I'm sorry, Harry. Well, what do you want explained?"

Harry felt a hundred questions fighting to burst out of him, and had to pause and consider which he should ask first. He had so many questions, but he knew he could not ask them all. What was happening with Voldemort? Had there been any more movements by him? What had everyone in the Order been doing all summer? Had Bellatrix been caught yet? And what about all of the events that took place this evening? Since arriving back at Grimmauld Place he had been struggling to put the pieces of the puzzle together, but everything escaped his understanding; he could not make much sense of anything that happened to him back at Privet Drive.

After a few moments of indecisiveness, Harry decided that questions about the most recent events would be a good place to start, and settled on asking, his mouth dry, "What were those Dementors doing at Little Whinging? I know that Umbridge sent them last time, but something tells me that it's a bit worse this time." Here he paused and took a deep breath as he looked around at the sullen faces around him, before saying what he had been expectantly fearing the entire summer, "The Dementors are under Voldemort's control now, aren't they?"

As soon as he said it, he knew the answer. He felt a weight drop in his stomach as he looked around the table at the brooding faces surrounding him. It wasn't as if he hadn't been expecting it; Dumbledore had warned that the Dementors would indeed turn to aid Voldemort at the end of his fourth year, but the denying Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, refused to take precautions against it.

In case he needed any more confirmation, Harry saw Mr. Weasley heave a sigh and answer, "Yes, it is as we have feared. I know that we all knew it would happen, but now that it has…." His voice trailed off as he looked down at the table.

"We believe the Death Eaters sent them after you," Lupin added.

On Mr. Weasley's left, Tonks spoke up, with a sharp, sarcastic tone, "Yeah, if only that pig Fudge had bigger brains than a toad, and wasn't so bloody afraid of his own puny shadow, then maybe the situation would be a little bit better," she fumed. With her short, spiky hair, currently a shade of bright red, Harry thought it looked as if her head was on fire. This look did not overly surprise him, since Tonks, who was a Metamorphmagus, often changed her dramatic appearance. "I'm just glad the blustering buffoon finally got the boot," she continued, orange eyes flashing. "Even the other ministry officials could not ignore his slight oversight regarding Voldemort's return, after they saw him with their own eyes. I just hope the new one fairs better, not that it should be hard to do better than Fudge. Mind you, the lad does have his work cut out for him, now that Fudge has gone and messed everything up," she finished, arms folded in front of her chest as she glared straight in front of her.

Harry allowed himself a quick smile; he could not imagine anyone but Tonks raving on like that about the minister. But soon his attention was drawn away from Tonks, and onto Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. For some reason, at Tonks's words Mrs. Weasley had begun to sniffle a bit again and Mr. Weasley had stood and walked around to the other side of the table to comfort his wife. What surprised him even more was Mr. Weasley's expression; his usually cheery face was crinkled in a deep frown, with steely eyes staring at Tonks.

Tonks met Mr. Weasley's glare and shot her hands up to her mouth as if she just realized something, and gasped, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to mention it. Please forgive me Mrs. Weasley," she said whined, looking at her in horror at what she had done.

Harry turned his eyes and caught Lupin's, silently questioning what made the Weasleys so upset. He had not seen them so upset since last year, when he first heard of their fight with…. Oh no.

Lupin leaned over towards Harry and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "Percy."

Harry couldn't believe it. Percy, Ron's older, obsessively striving brother, was the new Minister of Magic. Sure, Percy was ambitious, but Harry could not picture him in such a powerful role; it made him shudder to think what would happen to the ministry. Of course, he should have seen it coming. Percy was the undersecretary to the Minister last year and loved rules and the ministry more than his own family, which he proved when he refused to speak to any of the Weasley's last year, even when Mr. Weasley was in mortal danger, after they begged him not to take his job; the Weasleys hated Fudge for turning a blind eye to Voldemort's return and they believed that the only reason that Fudge hired Percy was in order to obtain Order of the Phoenix information from him. Just the mention of Percy was enough to drive poor Mrs. Weasley to tears, and cause Mr. Weasley to go quiet for hours on end.

Harry shifted slightly in his chair, the awkwardness thick in the air. Tonks was completely exasperated and Lupin sat hunched over, hair draping in front of his face, his hand massaging one of his temples. Mrs. Weasley took out a handkerchief from her dress pocket and hastily dabbed at her eyes, flushing crimson as she realized everyone was waiting for her to recover. Mr. Weasley's arm unwrapped itself from her shoulders and he sat back down, across from her.

"Right, Harry," Mr. Weasley said, as if nothing had happened, "What else would you like explained?"

Harry shot a quick glance at Lupin, who nodded once encouragingly, before carrying on. He determined that it would be best to avoid all Ministry of Magic discussion, so he veered off to a different topic.

"So, if the Dementors are out of Ministry control-" a sharp intake of breath from Mrs. Weasley as Lupin kicked him swiftly in the shin, under the table, caused him to correct himself-"I mean are in the league with Voldemort now," Harry continued, shin throbbing, "Then what's happening at Azkaban? How is it going to remain secure?"

He was fully aware that Azkaban must have been in complete disarray without the Dementors. What Harry really wanted to know was what was going on with the Death Eaters that were being held there, but he decided to dance around the touchy topic rather than be blunt; he couldn't quite bring himself to speak the question that his intuition had told him would be answered earlier that evening.

Mr. Weasley began, "Of course, Azkaban is suffering from the loss, for now, but security trolls have now been placed on patrol, and they are constantly monitored and controlled by Ministry- oh come now, Molly- by Ministry members-"

Lupin interrupted, reading Harry's mind, "The Death Eaters we recently captured are, naturally, on the loose," he groaned.

Harry, apart from being worried, found himself quite angry. His apprehensions were confirmed, and in a way that relieved his worries momentarily. However, he knew that Death Eaters left unaccounted for was a bad thing, and he could not help but be frustrated with the Ministry's, and Fudge's, defiance in taking the precautions that could have prevented it. Right then, he swore to himself that if he ever met Fudge again, he would not let him walk away without receiving a piece of his mind, and perhaps fist; however, that was probably wishful thinking; Fudge would be long-gone in some foreign country for the rest of his days, deep in hiding.

More than anything though, Harry was apprehensive about what would happen now that Voldemort's most dear supporters were loose again. Would it be as it was when Voldemort was in power all those years ago, with muggle and half-blood wizard attacks alike? He could not even bring himself to imagine what would happen with the muggle world being blended with the magic. He thought briefly of how the Dursley's would react, Dudley screaming with his hands over his rear, his Uncle attempting to make his large form seem rather small and unimportant, and his Aunt….The thought of his Aunt brought Harry to his next question.

Harry was so anxious to hear the answer he tripped over his own tongue. "My Aunt- how did-know- wizards-she-Dumbledore-contact-calm-behavior-odd," he garbled.

"Come again?" Tonks asked.

"How did my Aunt know how to contact Dumbledore?" Harry repeated. "She normally hates wizards, but she was so calm this evening. It was odd; it was almost as if she knew more then she let on."

Silence hung heavy in the air for one moment, before Mr. Weasley choked on his tea and dropped his mug in front of him, splattering hot liquid all over the table and floor in front of him as well as on his shirt.

Mrs. Weasley sprang up immediately afterward, saying, "I'll take care of it!" before shuffling over to the cooking area, busying herself in attempting to find a rag, even though a dish towel hung over the sink faucet.

Shortly after her, Tonks also rose to her feet, offering to help Mrs. Weasley. "I think there's a towel we could use in one of the main floor bathrooms, Molly," she practically sang, before making a quick dash out the kitchen door, Mrs. Weasley trailing closely behind her.

"Right, um…" Mr. Weasley started, wiping up the tea on the table with a ratty shirt sleeve, "About your Aunt, Harry."

Now sitting perched on the edge of his chair, Harry looked expectantly at Mr. Weasley. Apparently he had hit on something big, and he wanted to know what it was.

"Well," Mr. Weasley continued, giving up on the tea puddle and putting his hands on his soaked lap, as he rocked in his chair, "This might come as a shock to you, Harry, but your Aunt, she…she's a Squib."