Chapter Twenty Five: Preparation
Harry sat back in one of the comfortable chairs in his sitting room, thinking. The last few days had contained a blur of activity around him, while he felt as though he had done practically nothing.
“The Order will take care of it, don’t worry,” he had been told over and over again, until he finally stopped suggesting that he do anything.
Granted, he had been heavily involved in the planning; Malfoy had given them everything that they wanted. While Malfoy Manor was almost completely protected, there was a spot on the grounds that was almost completely unprotected. It was an Apparation point previously known only to Death Eaters. It was the spot to which any new or potential Death Eater was sent by recruiters to be inducted into the group, and it allowed access to the rest of the area. Unfortunately, Apparating there would alert every Death Eater of the upcoming induction ceremony via their Dark Mark tattoos, and most if not all of them were likely to show up.
Thus there arose the need for every able-bodied Witch and Wizard to join the attack. As Harry sat in a meeting with Moody, McGonagall, and several Ministry officials, all listing the people they could count on to go, he finally blurted out, “Why not involve some of the students. Dumbledore’s Army is better qualified than a lot of the Ministry workers.”
He had had to explain what the DA what, and had to argue vociferously about letting students get involved, but finally, mostly due to the desperation of their situation, they relented. They also decided to quietly get volunteers from everyone staying at Hogwarts, although they didn’t reveal when they were attacking or where. A surprising number of people were willing to be a part of it, and thus they had the manpower to carry out the plan. Harry had been intensely gratified when almost the entire DA had agreed to go as well.
Harry had also come up with the plan of action, almost by himself. Moody and Lupin had both helped fine-tune some of the details, but all of the basic ideas had been his. They would Apparate as a group, moments before those who could not Apparate would take Portkeys to the same location. Harry would lead a the main group in an all out charge on the Manor itself, and they would then presumably encounter the opposition. At the proper time, Harry would signal a much smaller group, who would then concentrate completely on finding and destroying Nagini. Harry had decided he could not be a part of that group, because he was likely the only Wizard capable of standing up to Voldemort. If Voldemort was left unchecked, he would wreak havoc on the rest of the Order’s army, and Harry could not allow that. Instead, he had put Ron and Hermione in charge of that task, and several of the Order members who already knew about the Horcruxes would assist them; specifically Moody, Lupin, Tonks, and Shacklebolt. Ginny had flatly refused to leave Harry’s side, though he had tried to encourage her that he needed her to be part of destroying the Horcrux; she knew he was just trying to put her where he thought she would be safer, and she was having none of it.
“I’m staying with you, Potter, and that’s final.” No one had even tried to back him up.
After all of the planning had been done and the Army of the Phoenix was marshaled, there were still a thousand little details to work out. Fred and George had had a Ministry order placed through their store commissioning a huge supply of their products. A large portion of the Army was going to be wearing Shield Hats, and carrying whatever protective items the twins could put together. The Ministry was desperate, and their bidding for the items had shown it. Fred and George would probably be able to retire early on the profits from this order alone, but Harry had already heard them talking quietly about new products and future plans.
All of the other details, however, were being taken care of by the Order or the Ministry. Everyone recognized that he would be leading them, and that he would be the one to face Voldemort, but they could handle setting up Portkeys for a hundred wizards without him, thank you very much.
So Harry had been training instead. He had quietly asked if he could get twenty or so Aurors to help him out and taken them to the Quidditch Pitch and fought the lot of them together. After he defeated them all soundly twice, he found ten more and continued. It was grueling practice, and he had been to see Madame Pomfrey several times since he had started, but he felt like he was honing his skills even better than before. The Aurors didn’t know him, except by reputation of course, and they didn’t hold back, especially after the first battle. Many of them were very powerful witches and wizards, and Harry was forced to remain on his toes; no exceptionally dangerous spells were being used, but a bludgeoning charm with a lot of power behind it would leave you with an incredible headache, as Harry had learned.
Eventually, many of the other people who had become part of the Army learned of Harry’s training, and started showing up on the Quidditch Pitch as well, and began receiving one on one training from Harry and the Aurors he was working with. It had been intensely satisfying to help prepare the people for the upcoming battle, but it had been sobering as well. He could not afford to tell any of them not to come, but many of them were woefully unprepared. He was certain that the Death Eaters would be trained in all kinds of dangerous spells; he only hoped that with numbers and sheer will they would be able to achieve victory.
He leaned forward in his chair and put his head in his hands; he was starting to regret suggesting that students be allowed to take part. Of course age limits had been set, and they had had to demonstrate proficiency in their Defense Against the Dark Arts, but virtually all of his friends and many of his housemates had shown themselves capable. Now, if they were hurt, or killed… he tried to avoid thinking about that last possibility since it always gave him a scared nauseous feeling that didn’t go away for some time. But anything that happened to his friends in this fight would be his fault. He knew he couldn’t take responsibility for the actions of all of those around him, but he also knew very well that he was the one leading this attack, and it was his responsibility to fight and defeat Voldemort. Even worse than the thought of some of his friends dying, was the thought of dying himself without defeating Voldemort; failing in his mission. The Prophecy had not named him the victor; it merely stated that he had the power, and that he would kill or be killed. If he lost, it was probable that all of his friends would be killed in the aftermath.
He had slept his usual three hours that night, and woke up sweating. The faces of those he loved had haunted his dreams. His parents were side by side with the Weasleys, Dumbledore and Sirius stood with Lupin, Tonks, Moody, and McGonagall, and worst of all, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stood before them all. They said nothing, but the accusation in their stares was enough. It was his fault they were dead. He had failed.
He had been sitting in his chair since that time, brooding. Today was the day. Am I ready? he asked himself over and over again, and never came up with an answer.
Fawkes appeared in the room with a flash of flame that Harry felt on the side of his face. Suddenly he could see the room around him, and himself sitting in the chair. He looked older, his face consumed by cares and worries beyond his years. The sight of it was actually somewhat comical to him, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, Fawkes, how does it feel to have an army named after you?” he asked, reaching out and stroking the phoenix’s plumaged head.
Fawkes replied with pride mixed with a touch of embarrassment, and a reminder that it was not necessarily him specifically, just a Phoenix in general.
Harry laughed again, and felt better for it, though only briefly. He could not shake the feelings of fear and trepidation that filled him.
“Did Dumbledore ever feel this way?” he asked Fawkes quietly.
His answer was a picture, a memory, of Dumbledore sitting in his office, much as Harry was sitting now. His face sagged with worry, and the lines in his face seemed deeper. He looked old, Harry thought, though he also appeared younger than Harry had ever seen him.
“When was that?” he wanted to know. Harry watched a quick succession of images; Dumbledore writing a letter with the same expression, and then a jump further forward as Dumbledore stood outside the house on Privet Drive with McGonagall and Hagrid, leaving a small basket behind on a doorstep. The message was clear; Dumbledore had been this worried about Harry, right from the beginning. It was the exact same worry that Harr felt now; worry for the hope of the Wizarding World mixed with love for someone important to him.
Harry felt gratified to have seen the memory, and thanked Fawkes. The phoenix sang quietly in reply.
“Am I ready, Fawkes?” he asked, this time seeking comfort. Instead of an answer from himself, Fawkes responded with another memory. Harry sat in the same chair and Ginny was sitting in his lap, and he asked her the same question.
“Of course you’re ready, Harry! You’ve been getting ready for this moment for your whole life, and you’ll have all of your friends with you; you can’t fail with us there by your side,” she said, while running her hands through his hair soothingly.
“I still feel like everything is weighing down on me like a load of bricks,” he had answered, “and I feel like, no matter who is with me, I’ll be completely alone when I face Voldemort. It’s like it has to be that way.”
“No matter what happens, Harry, you will never be alone. You can do this.”
The memory from earlier that evening faded away, and Fawkes sang triumphantly. Harry found himself taking comfort from what Ginny had said, even though it had brought him none when she first said it.
“I can do this,” he whispered, feeling his fear trickle away. He worried still for those who would fight with him, but his worry was slowly being replaced by determination. He could not save everyone; no matter what he did, he was sure there would be casualties in this battle, but he was determined to make the sacrifice of those who would fall worthwhile by defeating the Dark Lord once and for all. No matter what.
A/N: Okay, so I bet that everyone was thinking that I would make chapter twenty five the last battle, or the beginning of the last battle, and this is probably a little disappointing instead. I know I should have made this chapter part of the last chapter, but I wanted that one to end where it did, and everything that happened in this chapter had to happen. I promise to update with the first chapter of the Last Battle as soon as Mugglenet will allow; no more delays.
My thanks to all of you who offered congratulations on my wedding; it was wonderful, and we had a wonderful honeymoon. We are having a great time moving into our apartment, though that has been a lot of work. Unfortunately, we don’t yet have an internet connection there, so replying to reviews may take me longer than it has in the past. I obviously still have access to the internet, but I can only get on about once a day. I promise I will keep responding, though, so please keep reviewing!