No one left the room in the two hours Dumbledore and the others spent discussing what would be the best way to approach the coming battle. Lauren kept toying with her two-way mirror, the other of which she had left with John who was attempting to translate the writing on the picture Derek had given her. Apparently he had had no luck so far, for the mirror remained cold and silent.
"Anyone else bored?" Fred asked, but his attempt at humour was lost in the tension of the room.
McGonagall had been unable to answer Lauren's questions about the Underwoods, and was now sat trying to mask her impatience at all the waiting. She was doing a lot better than almost everyone else.
She was excited and hopeful like she hadn't felt for many years. They had an opportunity to end everything. Within a few days the whole war could be over. But there was something nagging away in the back of her mind that made her think that the end wasn't in sight just yet.
McGonagall wondered if it was pessimism or simply experience that made her think that way, and she wished she still had the capability to believe that everything would turn out just right. Unfortunately she had learned many years ago that the good guys don't always succeed, and it wasn't only the bad guys that died.
As the senior members of the Order returned to the room, everybody stood up, ready to receive whatever news they were about to get. Harry pushed his way to the front, the keenest to hear. Lauren, Erin, Neville, Ron and Hermione drew up behind him.
Harry felt reassured by the presence. It was little gestures and motions such as the one they had just made that served to remind him that he wasn't alone in this battle, that he had friends to fight along side him. Though he knew it would be down to him eventually, he liked the thought that he wasn't without help.
"We have decided that a sneak approach is the route we are going to take," Dumbledore said, "we stand a better chance of getting to Voldemort if we go in quietly. If we charge in we will quickly be overwhelmed when Voldemort calls for reinforcements. The land is unfamiliar, and probably littered with good spots for ambush, we need to keep whatever advantage we can get. Surprise is really the only advantage we have in our arsenal."
"Who's going?" Lauren asked.
"We're looking for volunteers," Moody said.
"We're coming," Harry said.
"No," about four different people said at once.
"I'd like to see you try and stop us," Lauren said, folding her arms across her chest, her eyes turning green as she frowned in the direction most of the 'no's seemed to have come from.
Harry glanced across at her, silently handing her the reins. Though Lauren's temper was just as bad, if not worse than his, and she looked dangerously close to loosing it, she did have a remarkable talent for getting her own way.
"We have a chance to try and do this without you," Moody said, "and we're going to take it. I don't want you risking your lives. You've got us this far, let us take it from here."
"You won't be able to do it without us," Lauren said.
"You've given us this opportunity," Mrs Weasley said, "isn't that enough? Prophecies are never very specific."
"Yes but the prophecy was specific enough about Harry, and no offence Harry," she glanced sideways at him, "but he hasn't exactly done anything yet."
"The prophecy said 'neither can live while the other survives'," Moody said, "that doesn't necessarily mean Harry has to kill Voldemort. Leave that to us."
"You'll just get yourselves killed and he'll walk away to a new top secret hideout that we won't be able to get the location of," Lauren snapped.
"Do I have to remind you that last time you went up against Voldemort you nearly got yourself killed?" Moody said.
"Emphasis on the nearly - if Voldemort had done to anyone else what he did to me then they would have died. You need us."
Moody sighed and shook his head. Harry looked over to Dumbledore, who was yet to participate in this argument, and saw he had a resigned look on his face, like he was just letting the others argue so their consciences could rest easy, knowing they had tried to stop them coming along.
"We leave in two days time," he said, speaking at last, adjusting his half-moon glasses as he looked round the room, "I cannot ask any of you to come. If you wish to, then let me know, we will decide who will be part of the team tomorrow."
Dumbledore didn't mention Harry, but when he briefly caught his eye, Harry knew that Dumbledore was going to let them come along.
....
Later, Lauren caught a quiet moment with Dumbledore and asked him the same questions she had asked McGonagall.
"Ah, so you met young Derek did you?" Dumbledore's eyes regained a little of the twinkle they had been missing these past few months, "interesting family. They've been aware of the wizarding world for generations, but choose to observe and record it, rather than exploit or damage it."
"You've been helping them," Lauren said, "they had a picture, of the Order. The original one. Only one of us could have sent them that."
Dumbledore smiled a little sadly.
"I have been helping them, or at least trying to, but in my old age and distracted state of mind I've been neglecting them a little. I hope you did my job and gave them an update."
"I did, but why?" Lauren asked.
"You're a curious girl, Lauren. Hardly a girl anymore, perhaps it would be more accurate to say woman, though I suppose you'll forever be a little girl in my mind. Three years old and over her head in a war.
"You're singularly talented at magic, intelligent and resourceful, but you also ask questions to which you already know the answer," he gave a small grin.
"He's your backup plan," Lauren said, "in case we lose the war. You hope he can help the Muggles fight Voldemort, if we weren't there to defend them."
"Exactly," Dumbledore said gravely.
"But they wouldn't stand a chance. No Muggle weapon could stop Voldemort..."
"Sometimes a man's greatest weapon is belief. If you were to die, would you rather be murdered while you cowered in some filthy hole somewhere, hoping you wouldn't be found but knowing it was only a matter of time? Or would you prefer to go down fighting, believing that, though you won't live to see it, someone else will end the fight and everyone else can live happily ever after?
"The Muggles wouldn't stand a chance, but if I can arm them with a little knowledge that makes them think they do, and therefore give their lives a little hope, even in the darkest of moments, then I will rest easier."
He sighed heavily then added, "of course, I hope beyond hopes it never comes to that."
The next day Moody organised his volunteers. Bags were packed, apparition spots prepared, plans made, everything that could be done to make people feel like they were in control of the events that would occur the next day.
Lauren thought about what Dumbledore had said about hope, and realised they were all participating in the same game. They may not have been as helpless as the Muggle would in the same situation, but they still indulged in the little rituals that deep down everybody knew wouldn't make the slightest difference when it came down to the battle.
"I don't suppose there's any way I can persuade you not to go?" Charlie said to her as she indulged in her own rituals - checking her weapons, practising with her sword.
"No," she answered simply, swinging her sword in an elegant arc before returning it to its sheath.
"I didn't think so somehow," he said, holding her close as she sat down beside him.
"Your Mum doesn't look very happy about this," Hermione said to Ron as they packed their bags.
"I don't think anyone in my family is happy about this," Ron said, "Mum's cross coz she doesn't want me to go, and everyone else is cross coz I get to go and they don't."
"You should spend some time with them," Hermione said, "I wish I could see my parents right now, but I can't."
The finality of things hung in the air, smothering everyone. Harry didn't believe this would be the end of things as much as he hoped it could. He didn't feel ready, he didn't have a clue how he was going to go about killing Voldemort, and that filled him with a pessimism he didn't want to dampen everyone else's moods with.
He needed a way of firing himself up, inspiring some passion and fight in himself. Feeling as down and hopeless as he did right now he would be no use to anyone.
Harry knew there were no words that could make him feel better, or inspire any of the right emotions that would enable him to fight his best tomorrow, but as his eyes crossed Kimi's small frame where she sat at the side, silent and barely moving, hardly noticed in the rush of activity going on all around, he got an idea.
"You want my help," Kimi said as soon as he approached.
"Yeah," he said, a little unnerved still by her unusual calm and perception.
"What can I do for you?"
"Can't you just read my mind and find out?" Harry asked with a small smile of amusement.
"I think it's more polite to ask," Kimi said.
"You can affect dreams," Harry said, "I want you to affect mine tonight. I want you to show me everything that could have been, if Voldemort had never existed. The life I would have had, the lives my friends would have had. I want to see it."
"Are you sure about this?" Kimi asked, "I don't want to upset you before such a big fight."
Harry nodded. He was certain.
"I need to know what I'm fighting for," he said.
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