Harry Potter 05 - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

out of sight, snigger.
    ‘So why’s Dumbledore been so keen to keep me in the dark?’ Harry asked, still trying hard to keep his voice casual. ‘Did you – er – bother to ask him at all?’
    He glanced up just in time to see them exchanging a look that told him he was behaving just as they had feared he would. It did nothing to improve his temper.
    ‘We told Dumbledore we wanted to tell you what was going on,’ said Ron. ‘We did, mate. But he’s really busy now, we’ve only seen him twice since we came here and he didn’t have much time, he just made us swear not to tell you important stuff when we wrote, he said the owls might be intercepted.’
    ‘He could still’ve kept me informed if he’d wanted to,’ Harry said shortly. ‘You’re not telling me he doesn’t know ways to send messages without owls.’
    Hermione glanced at Ron and then said, ‘I thought that, too. But he didn’t want you to know anything. ’
    ‘Maybe he thinks I can’t be trusted,’ said Harry, watching their expressions.
    ‘Don’t be thick,’ said Ron, looking highly disconcerted.
    ‘Or that I can’t take care of myself.’
    ‘Of course he doesn’t think that!’ said Hermione anxiously.
    ‘So how come I have to stay at the Dursleys’ while you two get to join in everything that’s going on here?’ said Harry, the words tumbling over one another in a rush, his voice growing louder with every word. ‘How come you two are allowed to know everything that’s going on?’
    ‘We’re not!’ Ron interrupted. ‘Mum won’t let us near the meetings, she says we’re too young –’
    But before he knew it, Harry was shouting.
    ‘SO YOU HAVEN’T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL! YOU’VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN’T YOU? YOU’VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I’VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS’ FOR A MONTH! AND I’VE HANDLED MORE THAN YOU TWO’VE EVER MANAGED AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS IT – WHO SAVED THE PHILOSOPHER’S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED BOTH YOUR SKINS FROM THE DEMENTORS?’
    Every bitter and resentful thought Harry had had in the past month was pouring out of him: his frustration at the lack of news, the hurt that they had all been together without him, his fury at being followed and not told about it – all the feelings he was half-ashamed of finally burst their boundaries. Hedwig took fright at the noise and soared off to the top of the wardrobe again; Pigwidgeon twittered in alarm and zoomed even faster around their heads.
    ‘WHO HAD TO GET PAST DRAGONS AND SPHINXES AND EVERY OTHER FOUL THING LAST YEAR? WHO SAW HIM COME BACK? WHO HAD TO ESCAPE FROM HIM? ME!’
    Ron was standing there with his mouth half-open, clearly stunned and at a loss for anything to say, whilst Hermione looked on the verge of tears.
    ‘BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON? WHY SHOULD ANYONE BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT’S BEEN HAPPENING?’
    ‘Harry, we wanted to tell you, we really did –’ Hermione began.
    ‘CAN’T’VE WANTED TO THAT MUCH, CAN YOU, OR YOU’D HAVE SENT ME AN OWL, BUT DUMBLEDORE MADE YOU SWEAR –’
    ‘Well, he did –’
    ‘FOUR WEEKS I’VE BEEN STUCK IN PRIVET DRIVE, NICKING PAPERS OUT OF BINS TO TRY AND FIND OUT WHAT’S BEEN GOING ON –’
    ‘We wanted to –’
    ‘I SUPPOSE YOU’VE BEEN HAVING A REAL LAUGH, HAVEN’T YOU, ALL HOLED UP HERE TOGETHER –’
    ‘No, honest –’
    ‘Harry, we’re really sorry!’ said Hermione desperately, her eyes now sparkling with tears. ‘You’re absolutely right, Harry – I’d be furious if it was me!’
    Harry glared at her, still breathing deeply, then turned away from them again, pacing up and down. Hedwig hooted glumly from the top of the wardrobe. There was a long pause, broken only by the mournful creak of the floorboards below Harry’s feet.
    ‘What is this place, anyway?’ he shot at Ron and Hermione.
    ‘Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix,’ said Ron at once.
    ‘Is anyone going to bother telling me what the Order of the Phoenix –?’
    ‘It’s a secret society,’ said Hermione quickly. ‘Dumbledore’s in charge, he founded it. It’s the people who fought against You-Know-Who last time.’
    ‘Who’s in it?’ said Harry, coming to a halt with his hands in his pockets.
    ‘Quite a few people –’
    ‘We’ve met about twenty of them,’ said Ron, ‘but we think there are more.’
    Harry glared at them.
    ‘Well?’ he demanded, looking from one to the other.
    ‘Er,’ said Ron. ‘Well what?’
    ‘Voldemort!’