8

CHAPTER EIGHT:

Harry was trying to make meaningless small talk while quelling the urge to kill his companion when Snape flooed into the Headmaster's office. Heaving a silent sigh of relief, he stood and smiled at his former professor.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore said cheerfully, "Ready to go to Grimmauld Place, then?" Harry bit back a smirk when the Potions Master simply inclined his head, not deigning the Headmaster with a proper answer. Not that it seemed to faze the Headmaster at all. "Off we go, then! Severus, would you do the honors?"

Both men knew that Dumbledore simply wanted to be the last person to arrive – to make a grand entrance – and fought back identical eye rolls. "Certainly," Severus replied curtly, not trusting himself to call the man by name after Potter's revelations. Turning on his heels, he tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fire and caught Harry's eyes as he spun out of sight. As Harry had expected, the Headmaster asked him to go next, and so he did, emerging a few seconds later in the old, familiar room. Swallowing back bad memories of this place, he made his way to the empty seat next to Severus and sank into it, casting his eyes over the people assembled there.

"Compose yourself," a voice hissed at him, letting Harry know that his emotions were more than visible. Were those tears blurring his vision?

"Can't," he choked out, blinking furiously as he spotted the Weasley twins looking at him curiously. Just then green flared in his peripheral vision, and a hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"It'll be alright now," the voice of Albus Dumbledore told him softly, and Harry shut his eyes against the stab of hate that those words, spoken by that voice, brought. The movement dislodged the tears in his eyes, and one tear made its way slowly down his right cheek.

"Who is that, Albus?"

Harry started at the familiar voice, his eyes snapping open to take in the sight of his godfather walking in the room. "Sirius," he breathed, unaware of all the eyes on him as he stood and took a hesitant step towards the dead man. Beside him stood Remus, and the werewolf's confused expression changed to shock as he caught the smell of the young man before him.

"Harry?"

"Remus," Harry whispered, another tear running down his face. "Oh, Remus..." Stepping forward, Remus opened his arms to the young man, and Harry fell into them with a barely suppressed sob. The room was deathly silent but for Harry's near-silent sobs, and Remus' quiet assurances that it was alright, that everything was fine. He had always been a smart one, after all, and he had immediately realized that this older version of his friend's son must have come from the future, especially considering the way he stared at both him and Sirius as though they were dead. Nobody could fake the kind of heartbreak that Harry was currently expressing, clutching at the werewolf as though he was his last hold on reality.

"Oh, my cub," he said softly, "What have you had to live through?"

"You died," Harry choked out. "You died, and Sirius and Ron and Hermione and Severus and the Weasleys and Tonks and Neville and, and, and," he hiccoughed into silence, burying his face in his mentor's shoulder as he cried once more. I thought I was all out of tears, his mind thought while his body was still wracked with sobs. Then he heard a heavy sigh, and the swish of fabric as a man's footsteps came closer. A pause beside him, then rough hands grabbed him and dragged him out of Remus' arms, setting him firmly on his feet. Harry caught a glimpse of dark eyes before a hand slapped him across the face, jolting him back to his senses.

Turning his face back, he barely had time to say, "The other cheek," before the same hand backhanded him. Turning his face back again, he blinked away the last of the tears. "Thank you."

Severus merely nodded before releasing him and going back to his seat, avoiding everyone's stunned gazes as he sat down. Harry gave him a watery smile, then gave Remus a hand up off the ground. "Sorry," he said, conjuring a handkerchief to wipe at his face before he ended up crying again. "Let's sit down, shall we?" He shot a glance at Sirius, who had remained rooted in the doorway. "Sorry for the outburst."

"It's no trouble, cub," Remus said, and Harry realized that the shock of seeing him must have dispelled some of Dumbledore's spells. The ones keeping Remus' sense of pack dampened. He gave him a much better smile before turning and taking his spot next to Severus.

"How did you know?" he asked the dark man quietly. He received an inscrutable gaze.

"Your lover did it to you once," Snape replied eventually, holding his gaze as a reminder of their Legilimency session. Harry exhaled. "Thank you."

Again, all he received was a nod before they both turned their attention to the room as a whole. Some Order members were staring at him, others at Dumbledore, and one or two at Snape, all with expressions of confusion, shock, disbelief, or, in Remus' case, sadness.

"I see you have met our new Order member," Dumbledore said, and while Snape merely snorted, Harry choked in disbelief. The bastard, he thought fiercely, and decided not to play the meek subordinate. Standing, he said firmly,

"I am Harry James Potter-Black, and I have come from the future to ensure that this time, Voldemort doesn't win the war." Harry locked eyes with Remus as the rest of the room erupted into chaos.

After a minute or two Dumbledore called for order, and the room quieted down. "That could perhaps have been handled a bit more diplomatically, Harry," he said, a faint note of reproach in his voice.

"I disagree, Albus," Harry returned, his voice perfectly bland. "We can only move forward from that point; to dance around it would have been a waste of time." He could see that nearly everyone present had taken note of the use of Albus' first name, as well as his knockdown of the Headmaster's usual methods. Moody especially had an appreciative glint in his eye – not that that kept him from being a paranoid bastard, of course.

"How do we know that you are who you say you are?" the Auror questioned, leaning forward with an intent gaze.

"I, Harry James Potter-Black, swear on my life that that is my full name."

A disbelieving pause, then – "Did you just swear on your life? You are even more imbecilic than I had believed." Severus sounded far more composed than Harry assumed he must be.

"But you know that otherwise Alastor wouldn't have accepted it," Harry replied, adding a slight pout as he turned to the Potions Master. "And it's not like I died, right?"

"I knew stupidity was genetic," Snape muttered darkly, and as Sirius was already jumping up to defend James he paused in disbelief – for Harry simply laughed in reply.

"I assure you that I take after my mother," he retorted with an mischievous grin, garnering a scowl from the Potions Master. "Anyway," he continued, "I assume that is enough to confirm my identity?" At Moody's appreciative nod he continued, "Excellent. Let me give you a brief rundown of the future as I experienced it; then we can discuss how to prevent it from happening." It felt completely natural to assume leadership of this group, so it actually took Harry by surprise when Dumbledore tried to reassert himself.

"A fabulous idea, Harry. Molly, perhaps some tea..."

"No," Harry interrupted, looking at the Headmaster in surprise and a hint of disbelief. "This is far too important to discuss over tea. If you don't care that in my timeline, you die in a year, then by all means, have a cup of tea."

Complete silence filled the room while the two leaders tried to stare each other down, the older with a reproachful gaze and the younger with a disbelieving one.

"Let us sit down at least, shall we?" Dumbledore backed down, conjuring his preferred purple armchair. Harry replied by conjuring a black leather armchair and promptly sitting down. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he continued as though Dumbledore had never interrupted him.

"In the future I came from, Sirius died in May of this year." A murmur ran through the group, and Sirius himself looked poleaxed. "The main reason was that Sirius grew too restless and ran headlong into danger; Bellatrix Lestrange knocked him through the veil in the Department of Mysteries. The obvious solution to preventing this is to give Sirius proper work to do, and to keep Harry informed of the Order's actions, as I had thought at the time that I was going to rescue Sirius, when it turned out to be a trap and Sirius ended up coming to rescue me." Harry didn't let his regrets show on his face, but was thankful for Remus' understanding gaze and Severus' level one, the former telling him that there is no shame in making mistakes, the latter keeping him grounded in the present.

"The only positive effect of that whole fiasco was that the Ministry was forced to acknowledge Snake Face's return," at the odd looks he supplied, "We started calling him Snake Face when they took over the Ministry and brought the Taboo into effect. I would suggest you call him that, as well – You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named are phrases that encourage fear and respect, which 'Snake Face' certainly doesn't. A change of attitude needs to come from the people." Nodding towards Severus, he added, "Our resident spy will continue to call him the Dark Lord, of course – it would not do for him to fall into bad habits when it can cost him his life." At Sirius' scoffing he turned and pinned him with a sharp look.

"Sirius, I love you very much, but you will have to accept my word when I say that Severus is loyal to our cause, and our cause only. He doesn't deserve your disrespect. When the Order meets, you will leave personal grudges outside the door and treat each member with the respect he or she deserves." Shifting his gaze to Mundungus, he continued, "And you will cease to steal from Order members. If I catch you taking any items from the Black or Potter families, you will face the consequences." From the look in the shifty man's eyes he decided that his warning was heard and understood.

"Moving on. Unfortunately, since the Ministry was forced to acknowledge Snake Face's return, that meant that the Death Eaters no longer had to stay low. Revels started up again, and the number of dead Muggles rose. That was before they got their hands on the list of Muggle-born magicals and started hunting them down before they reached their eleventh birthdays. When we finally realized what was happening it was too late; they had already killed all British Muggle-borns between the ages of four and eleven, as well as their families. Hogwarts would have no Muggle-born first years for several years after." Minerva had her hand before her mouth, her wide-eyed look expressing her horror at the thought.

"Then they targeted the families of Hogwarts students, but by then we had taken steps to counteract that. Obviously, those steps need to be taken far sooner this time around, starting with the future students." He saw agreement in all the members' faces, and he found a small smile for Mrs. Weasley, who was nearly in tears over the poor children.

"There is one spell that I will insist on teaching each Order member. It is a spell that hides certain memories, burying the information deep in the mind while leaving the rest as protected as you may have it. It is a sort of Fidelius for knowledge. This entire meeting, for example, should be hidden with this spell – you simply think of the information you want to hide while chanting the incantation three times, and the sound of a bell will ring out inside your head if you cast the spell successfully. It is crucial that vital information not make its way back to the other side even if one of us should be captured." He cast a serious look over the gathering, remembering briefly a time when Ernie had been captured. Ernie had forgotten to hide the knowledge of the safe houses, and several families had died as a result. "I cannot stress how important it is that you hide ALL crucial information with this spell. The names of other Order members, the location of safe houses, the contents of each meeting… These, and everything else that might be even remotely valuable to the enemy, need to be hidden. Inside information on the Ministry and the Aurors," he eyed Tonks and Alastor, "the running of Hogwarts and the list of new students," his gaze switched to Minerva and Poppy, "even how to create your pranks," he said to the Weasley twins. "I will teach you the spell at the end of the meeting, and I insist that all of you learn it; even those with Occlumentic barriers. It pays to be prepared." Severus inclined his head in acknowledgement of that statement. An additional guarantee that vital information could not make its way into the Dark Lord's hands was valuable.

"After Albus' death," another murmur ran through the group, "Severus and I took charge of the Order." Harry pretended not to notice the looks the other members gave Snape at that revelation. "When Severus died at the hands of Bellatrix, I became the sole leader of the Order of the Phoenix. I insist that things not reach that point this time. I would be happy to lead this fine group, but not because anyone else capable of leading was already dead." He shot a look at Minerva, who paled. "I was also Headmaster of Hogwarts for several months before coming back in time, and that, too, is a post that should not have fallen to me for the reason it did."

"What do you suggest we do?" Minerva asked shakily, and Harry looked at her earnestly.

"We shouldn't let things reach that point. The Death Eaters want to kill us all; I simply suggest we return the favor." Shifting his gaze to Sirius, he said, "You are the current Head of House Black – unless I am? I will check with the goblins as soon as I can. Either way, one of us should cast the Black Blood on Bellatrix, ridding us of the person who incapacitated too many members of this Order. Lucius Malfoy has already died in this time," he didn't elaborate despite the surprised looks, "and Narcissa should be approached with an offer. Since her husband was declared a traitor by Snake Face, she and her son are not safe. Should we offer them protection, we will have the Malfoy name on our side, which carries great political weight." Conjuring a glass of water to whet his throat, Harry continued in the same vein.

"We know which pure-bloods are Death Eaters; it will be easy enough to infiltrate their manors while they sleep, waking them to give them the choice between swearing their allegiance to our side or death. Veritaserum will obviously be a necessity. Their spouses and children should be questioned under Veritaserum as well."

"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted benevolently, "Surely you do not intend to kill in cold blood? I am sure they can be made to see reason if given a second chance…"

Harry turned to the old Headmaster with a stony expression. "They made their choice, Albus – one chance is all I am prepared to give them. Giving them the choice between death and an oath is one they would not give us. Frankly, I'm tempted to simply kill them in their sleep, as that is much kinder than anything they would do to us. Even killing Bellatrix with the Black Blood is more humane than the way she killed Severus in the other timeline. Lucius Malfoy raped Susan Bones to death; I felt the death he received was far better than he deserved. Do not speak to me of second chances."

"How did Malfoy die?" Moody asked, his good eye fixed on Harry while his blue eye seemed to swing between Dumbledore and Snape.

Harry contemplated the grizzled Auror, wondering whether or not to answer the question. Weighing his options, he eventually decided to simply stick to the truth. "I bashed in his head with that cane of his," Harry replied evenly. "When I came back in time, I for some reason materialized in the middle of a meeting of the Inner Circle." He shrugged. "I bluffed my way out; Snake Face believes that I turned to his side after Albus' death." He realized right after that he shouldn't have said that; now Dumbledore would wonder whether Harry had changed enough after his death to turn to the Dark. Cursing himself for a fool, Harry turned to Dumbledore with a sad smile. "As though I would turn to the Dark when there was Albus' legacy to carry on…"

The suspicious glint that Harry had seen in Dumbledore's eyes faded with those words, and the old man laid his hand on Harry's. "I'm glad that I had such a positive effect on you, my boy." It was lucky that he didn't add anything about forgiveness, for Harry would not have accepted such a statement and Dumbledore seemed to recognize that.

Holding the wrinkled hand in his for the second time that day, Harry turned back to the Order and continued outlining his thoughts on how they would have to act to win the war.