"Moving on from the Greengrasses, there is something I have to talk about."
All eyes turned to Harry Potter who stood up and looked each assembled member in the eye.
Dumbledore looked slightly surprised but nodded for him to continue.
"How many of you are proficient with your wands?" Harry asked, looking over at them.
"By proficiency, I mean capable enough to hold your own against Death Eaters who fling dark spells and unforgivables like candies. How many of you can fight in a battle?"
People exchanged looks amongst themselves before a few raised their hands. Harry looked on with a frown as he saw barely a quarter of the members considered themselves proficient enough to fight.
"And people wonder why we were losing last time. How can you expect to win the war when not even a quarter of you can fight for your lives?"
"Now see here Potter, you might have been able to fight a few battles, but that doesn't give you the right to question our abilities. What do you expect us to do? We are civilians! We haven't been taught how to fight, hell, all we want is to survive and live our lives in peace."
Harry looked over at the man who had spoken.
"I am not asking you to go out and pick fights. I am not asking you to fight either. All I am asking you is to be capable enough to save yourselves and your families. No one is going to help you if you don't help yourself. What do you think will happen if a Death Eater finds you in the middle of the street with your family? You'd feel happy when he kills your wife and child in front of you, right? Because with your complacent attitude and tendency of getting offended with a simple truth, that's what it looks like."
"Harry," Sirius began, but Harry gave him a look and he quickly trailed off.
"No Sirius, they need to hear this. They have lived through a war already, a war that they would've lost if not for some accidental occurrence that no one knows how it happened. If they keep up with the same attitude of acting like innocent bystanders with no skills or motivation to cultivate some, they're going to be slaughtered like chicken," he remarked, before turning around to glare at the assembled crowd who was looking at him with wide eyes.
"I am not trying to belittle you here. You admitted that you can't fight. Well, learn to fight. You don't have to be at the level of a hit wizard or an auror. Do the best you can, and be capable enough to contribute something to the cause and protect your families. Saying that you haven't got training is nothing but an excuse. Forgive me for being so blunt. All of you have access to books which contain offensive and defensive spells. Brushing up on your skills alone would go a long way. Learn the spells and how to cast them, as many as you can. And once you reach that level, work even harder to become even better. If not for yourself, then do it for the cause you have dedicated yourselves to, and for your children."
There was a long moment of silence in the wake of Harry's monologue. The wizard who had complained previously had already sat down, properly abashed.
Harry stood there for a moment, trying to keep his emotions in check using Occlumency and keeping his breathing even. He felt Sirius pull him down into his seat and allowed him.
Dumbledore looked around the table, taking in the morose faces before he sighed.
"Potter is right, Albus."
Dumbledore turned to look at Moody who was staring straight ahead. He turned to look at him before he continued.
"You remember the war as I do. Our people were not capable enough to fight against his forces. You know that. I know that. Hell, even this lot knows that," Moody remarked, glaring at the assembled group. "There is no harm in bettering yourself. Even if there is no war."
Dumbledore sighed and looked at everyone.
"There is a saying. A wise man does not pick a fight, but is always ready for it," he intoned, and people turned to look at him, "Harry, although very blunt, is correct here. Everyone should be capable enough to fight one's battles, no matter what the arena is. Most of you are not capable of fighting in a battlefield, and as much as it pains me to think about it, I know battles are unavoidable. If it were under my control, none of you would ever have to fight for anything. Alas! We cannot control everything. All we can do is become capable enough to confront all the adversities we might encounter with our heads held high."
"How are we supposed to go about it then?" The same man asked dejectedly. Harry looked at him with a frown.
"Like I said, the least you all could do is brush up your spellcasting. But even that won't be enough when you're fighting against Death Eaters. They will attack with all they've got, and you need to return fire in kind. It will take immense effort on your part, and I'm talking about most of you, to become competent enough to take on Death Eaters and survive. Although I don't need to, let me give you some names so that you realize what you're up against."
Harry stood up and brandished his wand. Using it like the shade of Tom Riddle, he started writing the names in the air. Once he was done, he stood to the side and looked at them.
"Take a close look at these names. This is what you're up against. Any one or more of them might drop in front of you unannounced, and you'll have to defend yourself and your family. Now ask yourself. What would it take for you to be capable enough? Can you, Mr Weasley, take on Augustus Rockwood? Can you, Mrs Weasley, take on someone like Bellatrix Lestrange? If not, you need to work on your magic. And if you can, work to improve even further. It won't hurt."
At the far end, Augusta Longbottom bristled at the mention of the name.
"You've proved your point, Potter. And I am sure this lot gets it now," she growled. Harry looked at her and nodded in understanding, before flicking his wand and vanishing the floating names.
"All I want is for our side to emerge victorious. And it is impossible without the efforts of every one of us. Fragmented, we are no challenge. But if we manage to unite our efforts on the battlefield and outside of it, then we surely are capable enough to overcome them."
A series of nods could be seen across the table and Harry smiled, happy that he'd gotten his point across.
"Alright then," Moody grunted, "I'm not going to repeat myself so listen closely, you sorry lot. Every other day, I'll be running drills in the basement of this house. And I want every single one of you lot who I deem incompetent to show up until I've got your ass in shape. Got it?"
Eyes widened around the table at Moody's declaration.
"Please keep in mind that you must come only if you want to. There is no obligation on your part if you are not interested."
With that, Harry took his seat properly and leaned back against the chair. He saw Dumbledore give him a nod, and he nodded back, glad that the headmaster agreed with his points.
"Now that we have that out of the way, I have something important that I need to talk about."
Everyone gave Dumbledore their undivided attention.
"As you all know, a few selected members have been taking turns guarding the Department of Mysteries. Arthur, have there been any developments on that front?"
"A few cloaked individuals have been spotted in the shadows. They have tried not to stand out but we have seen them. Only the incident from two days ago is something to be concerned about."
"What incident?"
Dumbledore took charge of the explanation.
"Two days ago, Arthur told me that the unspeakables found a Death Eater in the Department of Mysteries. He had infiltrated the department garbed in proper uniform and knew some of the ways to circumvent security."
"Croaker told you that?" Moody asked Arthur, who nodded.
"Rockwood. He was never caught after Crouch revealed his name, and Tom must have called him back." He asked Dumbledore.
"That is my belief as well, Alastor. The man was found dead inside the Department of Mysteries. Head Unspeakable Croaker has refrained from informing the DMLE or the ministry about this."
"I told you helping that boy would help you someday," Augusta Longbottom remarked, and Dumbledore nodded.
"I only helped a capable young man by giving him a nudge. If he comes to our help in some manner, it is a welcome happenstance, Augusta, not intended."
Augusta didn't reply and turned to stare at Arthur.
"So, what was this infiltrator there for? Some obscure book? Time turners?"
Arthur looked at Dumbledore, who gave him a small nod. Arthur nodded and turned to address Augusta.
"Not all of you know this since you are attending the meeting for the first time, but since the resurrection of He-who-must-not-be-named, a few members of the Order have been closely monitoring the Department of Mysteries. Croaker informed me that they found the man in the Hall of Prophecies. He had tried to pick one up and was killed in an instant."
"Is there some obscure magic in the Hall of Prophecies that we don't know about?" Kingsley asked.
Dumbledore nodded.
"Indeed, there is. You must understand that prophecies are fickle, and very personal to whomever they may concern. The Department of Mysteries takes special care in their security. No person apart from those who are the subjects of a prophecy may pick up the prophecy orb from the rack. Anyone else who attempts to pick up a prophecy that does not concern them shall die of heart failure in an instant."
Eyes widened around the table at the revelation, and Dumbledore turned to look at Arthur.
"It seems Voldemort is increasing his attempts to breach the Department of Mysteries. Therefore, we need to take preventive measures. Starting tonight, you will guard the Department in pairs. I shall communicate this to Croaker and he will look to accommodate additional personnel as he deems fit. And I repeat, now that you know the consequences, do not try to pick up a prophecy orb that does not concern you."
"A Prophecy, Dumbledore?" Augusta asked with slightly widened eyes. Dumbledore nodded solemnly.
"I cannot divulge the details, but it is imperative that it does not fall in the wrong hands. With the ministry uncooperative at the moment, it is our best bet to lure Voldemort out in the open. Afterall, he has no other choice but to come himself."
A few people who sat around the table nodded at that, and Dumbledore smiled.
"I think this concludes our meeting today. We will have one more meeting before Hogwarts starts. Until then, keep doing your best on the recruitment front and sharpen your skills. Alastor will be very helpful in that regard," Dumbledore remarked cheerily before he vanished in phoenix fire.
Slowly, people started to leave for their homes until only the Weasleys, Tonks, Moody and Sirius and Madam Longbottom remained alongside him. Harry joined the twins as they started to walk out of the room before he turned around.
"Mad-eye!" He shouted, making the wizened auror look at him.
"In the duelling room in fifteen," he remarked. Moody grinned.
"You got that, laddie," he chuckled. Harry joined the twins as they started to walk out of the kitchen.
"So… how was this for your first Order meeting?" Harry asked.
The twins had not been allowed by their mother to join in on Order meetings until now, but after Harry's speech a few days ago, they had managed to make their stance clear. It helped that Mr. Weasley understood where his twin sons were coming from, and despite not liking it, he had allowed them to join the Order. Mrs. Weasley had not been happy, but she had resignedly accepted it.
"It was intense," Fred began with an uncharacteristically sombre tone.
"That it was," George remarked, "especially when you went on that rant."
"Yeah. Not gonna lie, Harrykins, but we got goosebumps," the twins shuddered as one, and Harry chuckled.
"I don't know what came over me at that moment, but I just couldn't stay quiet after that guy said all that," he remarked.
"We understand, Harrykins, that dude was speaking like a proper bystander,"
"Too right, brother o' mine, too right. Good that Harrykins sorted them all out," George grinned, wrapping his arm around Harry's neck.
"You know you two also have to sharpen your wandwork, right?" Harry intoned softly, and the twins turned to look at him.
"Yeah," Fred sighed, "we're not mere kids anymore. We're the members of the Order, and we have to follow the same rules that everyone else does."
"Also, we have to do this if we want to protect mum and dad," George finished. Harry nodded.
"But don't you worry, Harrykins, we'd kick the death munchers' asses,"
"And the dark tosser's as well,"
Harry laughed. "Too right, guys. We will."
Still smiling, they walked up the stairs, only to pause mid-step when they saw Ron, Hermione and Ginny lounging at the top.
Softly, George whispered, "We know something serious happened between them and you, because of which you're not on speaking terms anymore,"
"And we're not here to tell you what to do or what not, but whatever you decide, make sure it's the right course of action."
Harry looked at them and chuckled.
"I know, and I believe this is the right way, at least for now."
The twins nodded sombrely before smiling.
"Let's go then. One galleon says Hermione will be the first one to crack."
Harry chuckled.
"I'm not that big of an idiot to take that bet."
George grinned.
"Smart man, but then you have to be,"
"You invested in us, after all," Fred chuckled as they started walking up the stairs.
Harry nodded. "That reminds me, you have to show me any new products you've been working on."
Fred grinned. "Sure will."
The trio reached the top of the stairs where they saw Ron, Hermione and Ginny standing to the side. Harry gave them a nod and smiled at Ginny before looking on with a neutral face.
Hermione stepped forward and opened her mouth, but abruptly shut it when George held up a hand.
"Whatever you want to ask, keep it inside. We have given magically binding oaths not to reveal anything we came to know about in those meetings."
Only his grasp on Occlumency enabled him to keep a straight face at the blanched look on Hermione's face and he mentally applauded George for coming up with such an immaculate lie. Although a vow was mandatory to become a member of the Order, there was no such restriction. He had said it with such confidence that if he didn't know the truth, even he would've believed it.
Deciding that he had dallied enough, he cleared his throat. Immediately, five sets of eyes trained on him.
"I'll be heading to the basement for that duel with Moody now. See you later," he nodded, before turning around and walking off.
'A little earlier than I'd told him, but better be there in advance. Won't have to deal with any surprises that way,' Harry thought as he descended the staircase.
In the distance, he heard Hermione's shocked exclamation of 'Duel with Moody!' and chuckled before walking away. His fingers flexed around his wand as he pulled it out of the holster and looked straight ahead in anticipation of going toe to toe with one of the best that Britain had ever produced.
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As soon as Harry entered the duelling room, he had to jump to the side as a spell passed through where his head had just been and collided with the invisible ward. He didn't have a chance to catch his bearings and he rolled on the floor as spells struck the ground where he had just been.
As quick as he could, he scanned his surroundings and saw that Moody was standing on the opposite end of the room with his staff in his hand. Another spell sailed towards him and he quickly conjured a concrete shield in front of him before taking cover.
Taking rapid breaths to calm his adrenaline-boosted heart which was beating at a rapid pace, Harry cursed as he thought up a course of action. It was clear that Moody had the same thought as he had and was a step ahead, taking this as an actual battlefield assignment, and with a degree of excitement that he hadn't felt in a long time, Harry grinned. He heard another blasting curse collide with his conjured shield and smiled proudly when the shield held.
"Fulmina Tempesta!" Moody shouted, and Harry's eyes widened before he threw himself to the side as a massive bolt of lightning tore through his shield like a pin through wet paper. However, he didn't have time to waste. He was in the open now, and so was Moody.
All the knowledge he had gathered from the books that Dumbledore had given him flowed around his brain in an instant, and Harry transfigured the debris of his shield into thin pinpricks which he banished towards Moody.
The retired auror created a glowing shield which rendered his shards useless before flinging a spiral wave of fire which zigzagged towards him.
Harry followed the trajectory of the fire spiral and at the last moment, he decided to try something he had studied extensively from Dumbledore's tomes. The moment he felt the heat, he pushed his wand forward. Everyone watched in shock as he grabbed the spell on the tip of his wand and flung it back towards Moody. The auror in question looked on in shock at his own spell which was coming back towards him before he erected a shield hastily.
The fire spiral exploded in a series of sparks as Moody staggered back a few steps. However, before he could catch his bearings, Harry leapt upon him like a wolf on the prowl. Transfiguring the dying ambers into fire lances, he propelled them forward and all Moody could do was try to shield himself.
Harry grinned internally when he saw Moody fall to his knee from exertion as the last lance of fire died. With a smile of triumph, he raised his wand to cast the finishing blow.
His smile died in an instant and he doubled over in pain as he felt something collide against his stomach. Shocked, he looked down to see a large bag filled with sand in front of him. Looking up in surprise, he saw Moody grin before he lifted the bag in the air and swatted him on the head.
Instantly, Harry dropped to the ground, his wand falling out of his grasp which Moody summoned in an instant. He looked on, dazed, as Moody slowly walked forward before helping him sit up against the wall.
"So? What did you do wrong?" Moody asked.
Harry took a few deep breaths and massaged his head before sighing contentedly when Moody waved his staff and he felt the pain receding away. He tried to think of what he did wrong, but couldn't come up with anything.
Moody sighed.
"Your spellwork is impeccable for someone twice your age. And your knowledge of magic is also very good. You have admirable skills, lad. But there was something you lacked."
Harry looked at the man in surprise.
"Overconfidence. The bane of a man. You got cocky when you saw me on my knees, and that took away all the concentration you had displayed since you entered this room. Never think that a battle is over until it is over, Potter. That will save your life more times than you can imagine. You did not think I'd be able to do anything once you saw me on my knees, never seeing that one fire lance that I'd transfigured into a sandbag and flung at you. That was it. A small oversight, and your entire work during that fight came undone. You are lucky it was me you were fighting against. Any accomplished Death Eater wouldn't have used a simple sandbag, as I'm sure you know."
Harry hung on to Moody's every word and realized just how right he was. Ever since he had come to know about those Blood Wards, he had been acting as if he didn't have anyone to challenge him. However, this small spar had shown him how wrong he was. He might have the power and he might be accumulating knowledge and proficiency at a fast rate, but all of it would amount to nothing if he didn't have the right temperament to utilize them in the end.
With a small smile, Harry slowly stood up and extended his hand forward. Moody looked at him.
"Thank you for that valuable lesson. I'll never forget what you said."
Moody chuckled before clasping his hand with his.
Harry smiled before pulling back. Turning around, he saw Tonks approaching them.
"Holy shit, you sure did a number on Mad-eye, didn't ya?" Tonks grinned, punching him playfully on his upper arm, and Harry chuckled.
"Still lost though," he smiled.
"Doesn't count, hotshot. You brought this rusty old man to his knees. That's a win in my book. Hell, even I can't do it!"
"And you won't be doing it unless you improve, Nymphadora," Moody remarked as he turned around to walk away. Tonks bristled at the use of her given name but didn't say anything. Harry snorted.
"Not a word," Tonks hissed with a glare, and Harry made a motion of zipping his lips up. He saw Hermione, Ron and Ginny standing on the other side of the ward along with the twins, their eyes wide open in shock at the display. The twins grinned before flashing him a thumbs-up while Ginny smiled. However, the former two kept staring at him as if he were someone entirely new.
Harry did not acknowledge them with a response and turned around when Tonks said something.
"Uh what? I'm sorry I didn't hear you."
"I'm saying why don't we spar for a while?"
"Oh really, Tonksie? You think you can handle me?" Harry taunted with a grin as he took his position at one end of the room. Tonks chuckled.
"Well, we won't know until we find out," she grinned, before her wand flashed and the first salvo of spells rocketed in opposite directions.
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On the third floor of #12 Grimmauld Place, the office of Lord Black was situated. Currently, two people occupied the office, sitting on opposite ends of the table. The man poured two glasses of Ogden's Premium and placed one in front of the old lady sitting opposite him.
"Continuing your grandfather's legacy, I see," Augusta Longbottom remarked, picking up the glass and swirling the alcohol around.
"What is it that you wanted to talk about, Augusta?" Sirius asked, getting straight to the point.
The woman sighed.
"Before we begin, tell me something. What do you know of the 57th Regiment from the war against Grindelwald?"
Sirius looked at her for a moment before he fished out his wand and summoned a journal from the rack behind her. He opened the journal and pulled out a certain photograph, looking at it for a moment before placing it in front of the Longbottom matriarch.
Augusta looked at the photo with a small smile. There they stood, shoulder to shoulder, ready to carry out their duty for their motherland. Her fingers traced the proud visage of Francis Longbottom before she pushed the photograph back towards Sirius.
"You see the man standing with Arcturus and Charlus?"
Sirius looked down at the photograph and saw the tall man standing right beside Charlus Potter.
"Is this some Greengrass?"
"Albert Greengrass, one of the finest wands from the British Isles to fight against Grindelwald, alongside Charlus Potter and Arcturus Black. He is Cyrus Greengrass' grandfather."
"I see. They fought together in the war."
"Fought together? Oh, you ignorant boy, the three were basically brothers. So close to each other. Saved one another on many occasions."
Sirius nodded, looking at the photograph before he put it away and looked up at the witch sitting opposite him.
"So, what are you trying to say? That Cyrus Greengrass is some nostalgic nutjob who wants the three families to stand together once again just because they were close once upon a time? Sounds bullshit to me."
Augusta clicked her tongue in annoyance.
"You should learn to keep that tongue of yours in check, boy. It might get you in trouble someday," she chided.
"And you should learn to call a lord by proper honorifics, my Lady Longbottom," he glared.
Augusta snorted.
"Touché. Now, as I was saying, Cyrus Greengrass is no fool. He knows the path of neutrality his father took in the previous war is no longer an option. You might not remember but they had come close to being decimated by Voldemort last time because they wanted to sit on the fence and Voldemort didn't take 'no' for an answer. That is why it is clear that they must choose a side. And it looks like the man has chosen one."
"So, you think it's politics and he is trying to save himself."
"Well, I don't know the man personally, but what I have seen of him has managed to paint a positive picture in my mind. The man is very much like his grandfather in his belief in principles and fair conduct. With his father's passing the past year, the lordship of the Greengrasses has fallen into his lap, and so he has the full might of that position. You can see this as him making a choice for himself and for his family. After all, he has two young daughters to take care of as well."
Sirius' eyes widened slightly, and Augusta grinned in triumph.
"Ah, I see you have made the connection for yourself. Indeed, I feel that Greengrass will attempt to tie his daughters down into marriage contracts with your godson. After all, it is no more a secret that the young man will hold dual lordships. What better way to secure the future and happiness of your daughters and your house than to tie them down to Harry Potter, probably the most eligible bachelor there is?"
"I see…" Sirius muttered with a frown.
"If you want my personal thoughts on this, I think he will want your godson to wed his eldest, given his youngest is not of age yet, and as such, not eligible for a betrothal right now."
Sirius nodded.
"You must realize that your grandfather, Charlus Potter and Albert Greengrass were so close that they had wanted to join their families together. But the only problem was that there was only one woman – my dear friend Dorea, who loved Charlus. You can be assured that Albert would have married Charlus' sister if he had any."
"And my grandfather was already married by then," Sirius muttered.
"Albert did not have a sister to marry off either. So, there is that," Augusta remarked with a chuckle.
"I have already imposed the burden of dual lordships on Harry. I cannot force him into a marriage not of his choice, just for some alliance."
Augusta nodded.
"That is your right to decide. But you must talk to Cyrus Greengrass with an open mind tomorrow. Tell him how you feel and what options you have, and reach a mutually beneficial agreement."
Sirius stared into the distance before he looked at her and gave a small nod.
"You've given me a lot to think about, Lady Longbottom," Sirius smiled. Augusta chuckled.
"Do not worry too much, Lord Black. Everything I have said is pure speculation. Who knows, maybe the man will not even raise the topic of betrothal."
Sirius chuckled.
"Knowing Harry's luck, it's very plausible that it happens," he smiled ruefully.
"Well, in that case, I hope you are prepared with a course of action by the time you get there. And do not forget to discuss this matter with your godson before the meeting tomorrow."
With those parting words, Augusta Longbottom walked out of the office, leaving a contemplative Sirius Black in her wake.
"Fuck pureblood politics," Sirius muttered exasperatedly as he downed his glass of firewhiskey in a single gulp and leaned back with a sigh. It was going to be another long night.
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To be continued…
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