HP: The Duelist of Hogwarts - 451

Chapter 451: Order of the Phoenix Council

In the study, Sean had no interest in small talk with Sirius. He went straight to the point.

“Sirius, there is something you need to understand. The past is the past. The dead are gone. You cannot, and must not, dump all the unresolved feelings you have for an old friend onto that friend’s child. You certainly cannot treat that child as a replacement and drag him off on adventures to relive your glory days.”

Sirius’s face tightened.

Sean had not named anyone, but Sirius understood perfectly well. Sean was talking about Harry and his father, James Potter.

“I…”

The word stuck in his throat.

Because he knew Sean was right.

He had been treating Harry as James’s stand‑in. His buried resentment over James’s death, his grief and regret at losing his closest friend—ever since his escape from Azkaban and his return to freedom, all of that had been swelling inside him like a rising tide. Without his realising it, it had begun to warp the way he treated Harry.

Once, he and James had lived for danger and mischief. Now, without thinking, he had tried to recreate those days with Harry at his side.

“Sirius,” Sean went on, “you should consider seeing a Muggle psychologist. Ordinary people have done extensive research into the human mind. They might actually be able to help you. If you do not deal with this, you are going to break sooner or later.

“Speaking personally, I do not particularly care if you fall apart. But Harry is my friend. If you lose control, he will be the one who suffers. As his godfather, the very least you owe him is not to become a burden. Do you agree?”

“I… I will think about it,” Sirius said haltingly.

Sean brushed lightly against his mind with Legilimency and felt no hint of a lie. He nodded, satisfied, and turned to go.

Now that he was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, he was not about to tolerate any major instability inside it.

In Sean’s eyes, there was one and a half such dangers. Sirius counted for half. The other one was Mundungus Fletcher, whose presence in the Order had always been faint.

In the original course of events, Mundungus had not only let Slytherin’s locket Horcrux slip into Umbridge’s hands, but he had also indirectly contributed to Moody’s death at Voldemort’s hands. On missions, he was notorious for slacking off, running away, and ruining serious work. Sean could not keep watch on them all the time, so he had already decided to push Mundungus to the fringes of the organisation. Let him act as an information broker and nothing more.

Sirius watched Sean’s back until he left the study and closed the door behind him.

In the quiet room, Sirius stood in silence for a long time before letting out a slow, weary sigh.

“James…”

About half an hour later, Sirius returned to the dining room. Mrs Weasley had finished preparing dinner. Everyone sat at the table, eating and talking over the latest developments.

There were not many Order members present.

From the Ministry, Kingsley and Tonks had not come; with the current situation there so volatile, neither of them wanted to draw attention by disappearing. They had no choice but to keep their heads down and wait.

As for Snape, these days, he was shuttling almost exclusively between Hogwarts and the hidden chamber at Malfoy Manor, where the Death Eaters gathered. He was no longer taking part in most Order activities at all.

“Professor,” Sean asked quietly, “how is your plan progressing?”

“It is already underway,” Dumbledore replied. “And yours, Sean?”

“Also in motion.”

“Good,” Dumbledore said. “Let us hope our plans do not clash.”

“They will not, Professor.”

“Oh?” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled faintly. “That sounds as though you know something of mine.”

Sean set down his knife and fork, took a sip of apple juice, and wiped the corner of his mouth.

“The Department of Mysteries is hardly an ideal battlefield,” he said mildly. “Too many irreplaceable artefacts that would be destroyed.”

Dumbledore’s eyes brightened.

“So you do know something of what I have in mind,” he said, smiling. “When did you see that, I wonder?”

“Professor, that is not all I have seen,” Sean answered.

Dumbledore’s expression grew more serious.

“In that case,” he said, “we should talk after dinner.”

“We should, Professor,” Sean agreed.

Around the table, the other Order members listened to their cryptic exchange with growing unease. Everyone wanted to know what they were talking about.

Especially where Sean was concerned.

They all knew by now that he had some means of seeing the future. From the sound of his hints, that future was not a pleasant one. That was hardly comforting news for the Order.

Even so, Sean’s standing among them now was second only to Dumbledore’s. If he chose not to explain, no one was going to press him.

After dinner, under Dumbledore’s direction, the Order held a meeting. They laid out new assignments, reviewed the current state of affairs, and then moved quickly to the main issue.

“Before I came here,” Dumbledore said, “I made sure to learn the names of those who escaped from Azkaban. Unfortunately, all ten are among the most vicious of the old Death Eaters. They include the Lestrange brothers, Antonin Dolohov, Augustus Rookwood, and…”

He paused, glancing at Sirius.

“…and the former Bellatrix Black, now Bellatrix Lestrange.”

A low hiss of anger ran around the table.

Every single person there loathed Bellatrix. Neville’s parents had once been their friends and comrades. Their current state, confined to a long‑term ward at St Mungo’s, was entirely Bellatrix’s doing.

And she was far from the only one they hated.

Mrs Weasley, for example, harboured a particular hatred for Antonin Dolohov. Her brothers—Ron and Ginny’s uncles—had both been killed by him.

In one way or another, almost every member of the Order had a blood‑deep feud with these core Death Eaters.

Sean watched their faces and saw plainly that their feelings about the escapees had shifted. It was no longer just a matter of protecting the wizarding world and defeating Voldemort and his followers. Personal vendettas and old, festering hatred had mixed into it.

As for Sean himself, he had plans of his own for these newly freed Death Eaters.

First on the list was a scheme involving Bellatrix and Rodolphus. After all, one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes—Hufflepuff’s golden cup—still lay in the Lestrange family vault at Gringotts.