Harry and Ron took their normal seats by Hermione at breakfast the next morning and it was immediately apparent that she had not forgiven them. Ron seemed quite happy with this state of affairs and began to liberally smear marmalade across his toast. Satisfied that his piece could hold no more he took a huge bite. Hermione pointedly looked in the other direction. Harry, while usually keen to avoid interference (and the potential for "side-taking"), was more sensitive to the atmosphere than Ron who, having grown up with such a large family, was used to such fights.
Harry cracked. "Morning Hermione" he said tentatively.
"Good Morning Harry" she said tightly, her voice a high-pitched squeak.
"Ron?" said Harry. "Did you have something to say to Hermione?"
Ron stopped mid-chew and gaped in Harry's direction. Toast flecks dropped onto the pristine table as he silently mouthed abuse at his friend. Hermione turned toward Ron, head tilted up.
"Sorry 'mione" muttered Ron through his mouthful of food. Sadly the apology did less to touch Hermione than the sprays of food. She recoiled slightly in disgust.
"Oops" said Ron, entirely unrepentant.
Harry sighed. Before they'd gone to bed last night he'd painstakingly schooled Ron in the art of a good apology. The key, maintained Harry, was not actually being sorry but sounding as though you were. This was a skill which, honed to perfection, had managed to keep the Dursley's complaining to a minimum in front of guests. Still, despite all this, Ron had managed to mess it up. The mistake, Harry reflected, was allowing him near food before his task had been completed.
Anyway, Harry had more important things to think about. Much as he was starving, he found the food did little to hold his attention. His eyes kept straying to the doors at the entrance to the hall, hoping for Dumbledore's arrival. During his scan of the room he had noticed Draco Malfoy, surrounded by a gaggle of Slytherin girls, holding court on a table at the far side of the room. Much as he wanted to avoid any and every contact with Malfoy this term, he couldn't help but crane to hear what was happening. It seemed that Malfoy was talking about him, the group seemed to be looking their way. Then Harry caught the words "stupid Mudblood" and "house-slaves" and pieced together a criticism of Hermione's campaign to liberate the kitchen house-elves. Thankfully Hermione was too busy brushing now invisible toast pieces from her robes to pay attention. Harry seethed inwardly on her behalf. It was alright for him and Ron to tease Hermione but Malfoy had no right whatsoever. He suspected Malfoy was still sore over the beating Hermione had administered two years back. Just thinking of the incident brought a smile to his face.
Happily reminiscing (that incident had moved on to the time that Malfoy had been turned into a ferret by Professor Moody) Harry was entirely oblivious to the room around him. It took the gentle pressure of a hand upon his shoulder to shake him from his reverie. Ron was making eyes at him across the table. Tracing the hand back to its owner, Harry faced the twinkling eyes of Professor Dumbledore.
"Perhaps, Harry, I am interrupting something" smiled Dumbledore.
"Err, no sir" said Harry, recovering his wits "I was…" he shook his head "Never mind, sorry, you're back."
"I am indeed Harry. Perhaps we could have that discussion I so rudely postponed from last week?" said Dumbledore meaningfully.
Harry noticed Malfoy had stopped his entertaining and was staring hatefully across the room at the exchange.
"Yes sir" said Harry.
"Come to my office in ten minutes" instructed Dumbledore. "You know the password I think."
"Err yes sir" said Harry, blushing, as Dumbledore left the room.
Draco's eyes narrowed in disgust at this last part of the exchange. Harry could just make out "…blatant favouritism…thinks he's so clever" which merely made him smile. Malfoy was much easier to handle when he was on the defensive. Not for the first time Harry gave fervent thanks that it was Dumbledore and not anyone else that was Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Ron and Hermione seemed prepared to put their dispute behind them in the light of this event as both of them turned eagerly to him.
"What's going on Harry?" asked Hermione.
"Yeah" said Ron "What's the 'discussion' about?"
"I don't know" said Harry shrugging. "I guess I'll go and find out."
Harry stood nervously outside the wooden doors to Dumbledore's office. His journey up the stairs had bred foreign nerves in his stomach. For all his protestations Harry felt that, for the moment at least, ignorance was bliss. The man behind these doors had the power to confirm or dispel every nightmare Harry had suffered since last term. He had to fight down an urge to run. Swallowing deeply he knocked tentatively on the door.
"Ah, come in Harry" came Dumbledore's voice as he pushed open the door.
Harry took a step into the office and was confronted by innumerable pairs of eyes. Immediately he faltered. Hagrid, McGonagall and two other men Harry didn't know were seated in front of Dumbledore's desk, turned to look at him. Worse than this, and more eerie by far, was the fact that all the portraits of ex-Headmasters around the walls were, in place of their customary snoozing, straining at the corners of their gilded frames to stare at Harry. He stared back in silence.
"Come in, come in Harry" welcomed Dumbledore. "Take a seat"
Harry shuffled into the room, uncomfortably aware of all the eyes upon him. He took a seat nearest to the door and tried to make himself as small as possible (a talent with which, thanks again to the Dursleys, he was well equipped). This was hardly the intimate and reassuring chat he had hoped for.
"Ladies" he nodded at McGonagall "and gentlemen, as you know I have asked Harry to be present at this meeting because I feel he is old enough to participate in such affairs. He is, I remind you" he added to the two men Harry didn't know "in his fifth year now at this school". The men didn't look to convinced Harry noticed.
"Harry" continued Dumbledore "you obviously know Hagrid and Professor McGonagall…"
McGonagall bowed her head gracefully in acknowledgement and Hagrid beamed. "'Ello Harry!"
"…and these gentlemen are representatives from the Ministry's Order of the Phoenix."
Harry recoiled at the mention of the Ministry of Magic. They weren't here to commit him were they?
"While the Ministry has yet to officially recognize our concern regarding Lord Voldemort's return to power, they have unofficially endorsed our consultation of the Order of the Phoenix."
This didn't make a lot of sense to Harry but he smiled in what he hoped was an agreeing manner.
"The Order of the Phoenix Harry, as Hogwarts: A History no doubt references," continued Dumbledore, twinkling in Harry's direction as he blushed again "are an organization very much like the Muggle Secret Service. They're an Anti Witchcraft-Terrorism Support Unit. They've been tracking our encounters with Lord Voldemort for some time and have extensive resources at their command. We're extremely lucky to have them here at Hogwarts."
The wizards, somewhat mollified by Dumbledore's praise, deigned to smile at Harry. He was still confused. Dumbledore, noticing his quandary, merely nodded his head - a gesture which implied he would explain later.
The nearest of the two wizards cleared his throat. He was a somewhat stocky man with dark, close-cropped hair greying a little at the temples. His dark beard was neatly combed and shot through with the same silver threads. His eyes, behind small spectacles, were deep brown and very intense. His friend was smaller and blonder. He had very delicate, pixie-like features and an almost porcelain quality to his skin. Harry couldn't help but feel like he was looking at the negative of a photograph.
The dark man began to speak. "Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you. You have done us and the wizarding world excellent service."
"You made our jobs much easier last time" chuckled the fairer man. "Frankly we're hoping you can do it again. I'm Jed Carraway and this is Mr Dent."
Mr Dent looked sharply at his companion. Harry got the impression that this elder man wasn't the chatty type.
"Harry" addressed Dent. "I want to make it clear to you that you are here at Dumbledore's request. I do not wish to involve children in these extremely formal proceedings. I do not feel that your remarkable fortune as a baby qualifies you as an expert on Voldemort and if I had my way you would be removed to a safe-house forthwith." The voice was direct but held no malice. A small pang of indignation hit Harry nonetheless.
"I've faced Voldemort since then." Harry defended himself. "Have either of you gentlemen come face-to-face with Lord Voldemort in the last few years?"
"The boy makes a good point" congratulated Carraway.
"Indeed." Said Dent curtly, but Harry felt that his gazed had thawed somewhat.
"So Harry will stay" announced Dumbledore, as if there had been any doubt. "Perhaps Mr Carraway you will bring him up to date?"
Carraway turned to smile at Harry. He took a deep breath and flicked a blonde lock of hair from his forehead - it immediately fell back into place. "We don't know where Voldemort is. Frankly we don't know what he's up to."
Harry thought 'Well that's useful.'
"We've been using all means at our disposal to try and answer these two questions and we hope that we may be on to something. As you may know Harry, a few wizards suspected of being pro-Voldemort, but never proven so, have again disappeared. In conjunction with this we have marked an eighty-five percent increase in reported sightings of the Dark Mark."
"We've been trying to understand why Voldemort hasn't started killing again." Said Dent bluntly, seemingly tired of the niceties. "And we thought that we were on to something. Our Head of Research in the Order of the Phoenix, also Chief of Archives for the Ministry, sent us an owl about three weeks ago and promptly disappeared."
Dent passed a piece of parchment over to Harry who took it delicately by the edges and unrolled it slowly. He read:
Medium not secure. Research in volumes 7-9 fruitful. Will elaborate at the summit. HP safe - V needs him alive. Delay by weakness not intention.
Harry swiftly read the passage twice. His breathing had started to quicken. He was needed alive? What did that mean? What were volumes 7-9? He was aware of Dent's scrutiny and through sheer force of will managed not to let his panic show. Steeling his features into composure he made eye contact with this man he felt driven to impress. "The Order of the Phoenix can't think of a better code than HP?" he asked coolly.
Dumbledore smiled and Hagrid roared.
"Do yer mean ter say that you've gone an' cracked their code Harry?" he said with a look of contempt at the two other wizards. "Why they was jus' tellin' us how secure their system was." He enjoyed another full belly chuckle.
Carraway had the grace to blush and became pre-occupied with the leather of his seat. Dent remained impassive.
"Clearly there are some communication issues within the Order that we need to address…" he stated " though that is hardly pertinent now."
Harry glanced over the words again and felt an icy shill strike him in the chest. Unconsciously he traced one finger over the line of his scar.
Carraway, recovered, continued "Anyway, before Bloom - Xavier Bloom, the Head of Research - could explain the cryptic message he disappeared. A caretaker saw him working late in the Ministry one night but he never came into work the next morning…"
The silence was telling. "You think Voldemort may have kidnapped him" guessed Harry, as the story began to ring vague bells of recognition in his head.
"More than 'think' Harry" said Dent firmly. "Immediately after Bloom's disappearance there was a spate of Death Eater attacks. Every archive in the wizarding world was stripped of the particular series that we believe Bloom was examining. The Death Eaters were more than thorough in their duties and we now have no hope of reconstructing Bloom's theory. This information tells us two things. Voldemort has recruited sufficient support throughout the globe to be able to organize and execute such a plan. Secondly we know that he knows we are on his trail. This limits our time scale considerably."
Harry sat dumbly. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with this information. Voldemort was back to full strength - Harry was witness to that - and had amassed a huge army and yet was holding back. Something in those elusive volumes presumably explained why, and that something had something to do with himself. Harry sighed. As usual.
Dumbledore's voice broke into his reverie. "What does the Order of the Phoenix propose to do next?" he asked simply.
"Frankly Albus we are at a loss and so we are here".
Harry frowned at the use of Dumbledore's first name. Very few people had an intimate enough relationship with the Headmaster to call him "Albus". It appeared that there was more to this situation than met the eye.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and placed his fingertips together in a contemplative gesture.
"I'm afraid, as I told you before, I do not have the series of which you speak. As you say the destruction was thorough. I must consider things further before I can offer you any advice" he said gravely.
Nodding swiftly Dent replied "I understand. Keep in touch Albus". Rising, he placed a firm hand on his younger companion's shoulder. "Come Jed. Dumbledore will help us when he is ready." Looking as bewildered as Harry felt, Carraway rose and, having made their goodbyes, began to walk towards the door with McGonagall as guide. At the threshold Dent stopped and turned. "Mr Potter" he said "be careful and be strong - we will need you when the time comes". Harry nodded.
**
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