ruins ; harry potter [1]

eight ; the hog's head

The Order of the Phoenix sat around the kitchen table of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, with Dumbledore at the head of the table, and the rest seated or standing, sipping on the tea Molly had made. Everyone was present (except for Snape and McGonagall, who couldn't leave Hogwarts) and squished together in the tiny kitchen.

Diana sat quietly, watching the conversation, not contributing much because, frankly, she didn't really have much to say. She was tired, for her nightmares had started to intrude into her every day life. Not only were they keeping her up at night or waking her up in a fit of anxiety and fear, ordinary or every day things reminded her of her nightmares. Any Slytherin badge made her fingers twitch, for they reminded her of the snake. The armored knights in the hallways reminded her of the Death Eaters. Every time she looked at Harry, a volt of nerves shot up her spine, for he invaded her dreams the most.

"We think Sturgis has been Imperio'd by You-Know-Who," said Mad-Eye gruffly, sipping almost delicately from his girly china teacup, "first, he didn't show up to bring Harry to King's Cross, and now he tried to break into the Department of Mysteries. He's getting six months in Azkaban."

"I heard," said Kingsley, his voice loud and deep, "the Auror office isn't allowed to look into it." Tonks scoffed, obviously extremely annoyed at the Ministry. "They won't let anyone investigate."

"He didn't even give a defense either," added Mr. Weasley, who was sitting next to his wife with his hand over hers. "He refused to speak in his own defense, so they had no choice but to ship him off to Azkaban."

There was brief silence in which everyone mourned Sturgis Podmore.

"It's strange, isn't it," said Diana slowly, speaking for the first time that night. Everyone looked at her, almost as if they forgot she was there. "I mean, why him? If they wanted to get in, don't you think they'd just put one of the Unspeakables under the Imperious curse? Wouldn't that be easier?"

"Are you saying you think they might know he's in the Order?" asked Mrs. Weasley gravely, her hand placed on her cheek.

Diana shrugged. "I don't know. Either it was a crime of opportunity, a stupid plan that was destined to go wrong, or they know explicitly that he's a member."

Dumbledore nodded. "That's a good point. Kingsley, Alastor, Tonks, will you guys look into it in the Auror office or ask any contacts in the Department of Mysteries you may have? See if anyone knows anything?"

The three nodded, Alastor raising his teacup in assent with a grunt.

"Diana, have you noticed anything strange with Harry?" asked Dumbledore, ticking the last conversation off of the list of things to be discussed.

"His scar has been hurting him lately," she started, and Sirius nodded.

"I got a letter from him recently, and he told me that his scar was hurting more often. Also told me a little of the nightmares he's been having," Sirius added, gaining a nod from Dumbledore.

"I noticed he's been having nightmares as well," she said. "I also..." she hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "He's been growing frustrated, Dumbledore, that you won't talk to him, or even look at him. He thinks he's done something wrong. He's frustrated no one will tell him anything." She looked around the room, at everyone who looked to be listening intently. "I think he'll do something stupid."

She met Dumbledore's gaze. It was full of despair and sadness. "We've been over this," he said lightly, looking around the room. "He's too far connected with Voldemort. If he knew of any of our plans, and Voldemort found out about the connection, it would ruin everything. We simply cannot risk it."