Title: Eyes of the Chosen
Author: Emcee
Summary: In which there is a meeting and new alliances
Author's Note: Thank-you to my muses, Rae and Fre and my beta and Pablo.
This story is AU to "Order of the Phoenix". It is the sequel to Labyrinth
of Illusion.
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and the characters, places and things
related to it do not belong to me. They are from the brilliant mind of JK Rowling.
They belong to her and her publishers. I am not making any profit from this
fan fiction.
Ron, Harry and Hermione were sitting in silence in front of the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. Every once and a while one of them would open their mouth say something, but they quickly thought better of it.
Neville came in through the portrait hole and immediately made a beeline for them. "Hi," he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I was talking to Professor McGonagall..."
"Oh Neville." Hermione got up, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right? It must have been awful."
Neville nodded slightly, gulping for air. "I just saw her there... I didn't know what to do. I'm going to see that for the rest of my life."
Ron shuddered, obviously recalling the vision he had of Jakhori.
"I'll be okay." Neville said, giving a tiny smile. "I mean, Professor Trelawney's going to be okay. Professor McGonagall said so."
Hermione sighed in relief. Harry and Ron exchanged looks. Even with Madame Pomfrey's skills, would Professor Trelawney ever be able to see again?
Neville held out a trembling hand. "These are from Professor McGonagall." He gave notes to Harry, Ron and Hermione. "I-I think I'm going to go to bed. I'm feeling... Very tired..."
"Poor Neville," Hermione sighed, "He shouldn't have seen that."
"Like any of us should?" Ron's reply was almost savage. "This kind of stuff just shouldn't happen ." He then went very quiet. "Now that I've said that..."
All three of them opened their notes. The contents in each matched:
You will come to the room behind the Great Hall at eight o'clock tonight.
"The room behind the Great Hall?" Ron read aloud.
"Yeah," Harry confirmed, "The room I went to when I was selected as Hogwarts Champion."
"I wonder what this is about..." Hermione wondered aloud.
"Huh, let me think... One murder and a self-mutilation," Ron muttered sarcastically. "I think it's about our OWLs!"
Harry crumpled the note, furrowing his brow. Why, oh why did he always get involved with these things?
Because that's what heroes do, Ron's words echoed in his head.
Harry sighed. At that moment he really wanted to be the Boy Who Was Ignored.
The room behind the Great Hall had a long table in it. By the time Harry, Hermione and Ron got there, only four seats were empty.
Dumbledore sat at the head of the table, his face grave and ashen. His hands were folded neatly on top of the table.
Professor McGonagall sat on his right, looking just as upset as Dumbledore. Her hat was removed, her hair coming out of its meticulous bun.
Professor Snape to Dumbledore's right. While he looked at surly as ever, there was a worry behind his black eyes.
Miss Tsukino occupied the seat next to McGonagall. She was biting her lip, holding the hand of the person beside her.
That person was Remus, who looked as tired as ever. The full moon two days ago had extremely weakened him. His face was white, with black circles beneath his eyes.
Next to Remus was a woman Harry, Hermione and Ron didn't know. She was pretty, with black hair and olive skin. Her sleeve was pulled back, revealing the tattoo on her right arm. She was a Gypsy.
The seat beside her was empty, Sirius, in dog form, was beside the table.
"Please, sit down," Dumbledore gestured to the empty chairs. "We have much to discuss. We just need to wait for our final companion.
Harry sat down between Sirius and the strange woman. Ron and Hermione sat opposite him. Harry gave Sirius a pat on the head, smiling down at him.
There was an uncomfortable silence and they waited for the last of their number to arrive. Remus cleared his throat, making everyone jump. "Professor, who are we waiting for?"
Before Dumbledore could answer, the door opened. Draco Malfoy stepped into the room, looking at the people within the room. Dumbledore stood, about to gesture to the empty chair. Before he could make a movement, Harry had jumped up, grabbing Malfoy by the collar. He pinned him to the table, knocking Ron and Hermione out of their seats. Harry shook Malfoy as hard as he could.
Seven people were on him, trying to pull him off Draco, who looked absolutely terrified.
"Harry!" Dumbledore commanded.
"Why is he here?" Harry demanded, pointing at Malfoy.
"I assure you, Potter," Snape sneered, "Malfoy is as much a part of this as you are."
Draco pushed Harry off him. "I don't even know why I'm here, Potter. The last place I want to be is holed up with the Order of Pathetic Losers."
"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore gestured to the empty chair. "Like it or not, you are involved in this."
Draco sat down between Harry and Snape, scowling.
"Before we get started, some of you have not met our ally from the Kalderasha camp. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco; this is Machka Kalderasha. She is a Divinations tutor at the camp. She is also, incidentally, the mother of your classmate, Derek."
Hermione and Ron gave Miss Kalderasha a warm smile, while Draco gave her a cold nod in recognition. Harry looked from Miss Kalderasha to Sirius, processing the information.
He definitely needed to talk to Sirius after this meeting.
"Everyone in this room has become involved with the recent gruesome events." Dumbledore didn't seem to notice the wave of tension in the room. Or perhaps he was just ignoring it. "You all know bits and pieces. It's time we are all informed."
Dumbledore lowered his head, taking a deep breath. He tried to collect himself enough to continue. "There have been two murders in as many days."
There was a collective gasp from the group. Dumbledore continue unabated.
"Both were young women of Romany descent. Their names were Jakhori Kalderasha and Martja Chergari. Both, as far as we can tell, possessed the Sight." Dumbledore sighed. "Both girls were brutally slain, their eyes removed."
Everyone shuddered. Draco stood up. "I can't listen to this."
"Malfoy!" Snape put a hand on his shoulder. "You wanted protection, so you're going to assist the Headmaster how he sees fit."
Draco scowled while Harry laughed. "Malfoy on our side? I didn't know hell had frozen over!"
"It so happens," Draco rose to his feet. "I know who killed one of the girls."
"You mean your father?" Harry smiled as Draco slid back into his seat. "It took me all of three seconds to figure that one out."
"Harry please." Dumbledore stared right at Harry. "If you truly want to be free of your dark side, you're going to have to fight harder."
Harry felt his stomach lurch. He was snapping at Malfoy way too much. And if he was really trying to help...
Who was he kidding? This was Malfoy! He would only help out if there was something in it for him.
"He's only doing this because he doesn't want to get his hands dirty," Harry muttered.
"Well, obviously," Draco drawled, "I never pretended to be part of your crusade, Potter. I just want my way of life preserved."
"We all have our reasons for being here, Harry." Miss Kalderasha said, "As long as we fight for the same end, it doesn't matter."
"I wanted to make sure we were all on the same page," Dumbledore looked over the people before him. "If anyone has any information that could be useful to us at this time. Anything at all." He stared at Ron. "We would be quite grateful for it."
Ron sunk down in his chair.
Dumbledore moved his gaze to Draco. "Anyone?"
No one said anything. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Well, I have given some of you assignments to take care of. I'm sure we will discover the plan very shortly. Be on the look out." Dumbledore's voice was grave. "Take care of each other. No matter what past grievances there may be," he cast his gaze over the entire group. "We need to band together right now."
Everyone stood up to leave. "Mr. Malfoy, a word please."
The room cleared, leaving Draco in front of Albus Dumbledore.
Draco took a deep breath, mustering up all of his courage. Even with his arrogance, he couldn't help but feel intimidated. "Professor Snape told me to be discreet."
"I believed a different approach was necessary, Mr. Malfoy. As Professor Snape follows my orders, my way is how we will do it." Dumbledore's blue eyes stared straight into Draco.
"How do you know I'm not going to just run to my father? How do you know I'm not spying on you? You're here showing me exactly what you're planning."
"I have told you nothing you didn't already know, except that there has been another death." Dumbledore paused, a small smile forming. "But then, young Mr. Kalderasha told you that."
"How do you know that?" Draco sneered, raising his chin defiantly. "I'd never talk to such a pathetic, little--"
"Mr. Filch found you two in the Astronomy Tower. I suspect Derek told you about Jakhori while he was trying that foolhardy Divinations exercise."
Draco nodded. "What makes you think I won't turn on you? I'm a Malfoy."
"Because I know you're scared."
"I don't get scared." Draco snarled back.
"Don't you?" Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Draco, everyone becomes scared. Especially when they are given tangible proof their father is a murderer." He slid back down into his seat. "Mr. Malfoy, what has happened in the past is just that-- The past. And I believe I know what is important to you."
"And what is that?"
"Your life, your mother. You will both be protected from prosecution if we can bring you father's treachery to light. I can assure you that if Voldemort takes over, this will not be the case. You will serve him, for his own purposes. If he tires of you, you will not be able to walk away."
Dumbledore stood again, crossing the room and placing a hand on Draco's shoulder. "I know you have troubles with Mr. Potter and his friends. School rivalries must be set aside in this time. I am not saying you have to be friends with him," Dumbledore spoke before Draco could speak indignantly. "I am saying you have to be allies. I know in your heart you believe what happened to Martja was deplorable. Keep that in mind when doubt begins to creep in. Voldemort has no respect for life: Even those who serve him."
Harry followed Sirius, the dog trotting ahead of everyone.
"Hey!" He shouted. "Hey, Snuffles!"
Sirius stopped, turning back to Harry. He tilted his head in question.
"I want to talk to you. In private. Something important."
Sirius followed Harry into a disused classroom. He transformed into himself, stretching, cracking several joints. "Ah... It gets uncomfortable in that form."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked softly. "I thought we were friends. I thought we were-- Family."
Sirius blinked, sitting down at the dusty desk. "Tell you what, Harry?"
Harry slid down into one of the other empty seats. "About Derek Kalderasha. He's your son, isn't he?"
Blinking, Sirius slid down in his chair. "How did you find that out?"
"I spoke to Derek. He mentioned you. After talking to Dumbledore, I figured it out." Harry shifted uncomfortably. "He looks like you."
Sirius nodded. "I noticed that myself. Derek is my son. In the most technical sense of the word, mind. I've never actually spoken to him. The only time I've ever seen him, I've been in dog form. His mother-- Machka-- was pregnant when I went into Azkaban."
Harry shook his head. "How?"
Sirius gave a derisive snort. "I don't really need to explain the birds and the bees, do I?" He ran a hand through his hair. "But I get the impression that's not what you were asking. Okay... When I was sixteen years old, I did a dumb thing. I met a pretty girl in Hogsmeade and she got pregnant. I cared for her and knew I had to do the right thing. We got married, in secret-- that type of thing would have caused a real scandal. Merlins never married Romany. Anyway, we had a daughter, Savori. Several years later Machka became pregnant again. I went into Azkaban before she could give birth and I didn't see my son until you played against him in Quidditch. End of story."
Harry shook his head again, somewhere between confusion and anger. "You never told me you were married with a family."
"Because I'm not married with a family," Sirius replied, "Machka divorced me when I went into Azkaban. My children grew up without me."
"Do you love her?" Harry asked quietly.
Sirius shrugged. "I... don't even know if I remember how to. Love-- It's a concept that becomes muddled when you've been around Dementors as long as I have. And we were young, very young... She's changed, as have I."
Harry frowned slightly. "So the answer's yes?"
Sirius shrugged once again.
"So where do I fit into all of this?" Harry asked.
"The same place you've always been." Sirius put an arm around Harry's shoulders. "You're my Godson and I'll do everything I can to protect you. And I want you to stay with me, now that your aunt and uncle have decided you shouldn't live with them. My past influences nothing that happens now. I will always be here for you."
Harry looked down. "I don't want to deal with this. With the murders."
"You don't have a choice, Harry," Sirius' voice was sad. "This isn't a job you can decide to quit. When Voldemort put that scar on your forehead, he gave you a destiny. You're supposed to fight Voldemort. I wish it were different, but destiny cannot be avoided."