Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of J.K. Rowling. I am not in any way affiliated with Ms. Rowling or with Warner Bros. Entertainment. I merely borrow her world for a short time to play around in, and receive no monetary compensation for doing so.

Spoilers: This story takes into account everything in the Harry Potter series up to, and including, book 5, and is the sequel to my own story, Healing. There are no spoilers in this series for HBP, and my own version of sixth year (one of them anyway) can be found in the companion piece to the Healing series.

Another Chance

Part One

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Harry Potter rocked back and forth on his knees, the battered form of Remus Lupin cradled in his lap. He paid no attention to the sounds of battle that surrounded him; all that mattered was the man he held. His eyes were locked on the amber eyes of the werewolf. They somehow communicated silently, expressing all their feelings and regret without words. Harry knew it was too late the instant he had seen the magical silver dart pierce Remus's torso, bisecting his heart. Any other metal and the man would be injured, but alive the next day. Remus convulsed and reached an arm up to stroke Harry's cheek. The amber eyes glazed over and Harry could feel the life bleeding out, the magical force going back into the earth.

When their eyes lost contact and Remus was still, Harry felt anger welling up from deep inside him. He kissed Remus on the forehead and gently laid him down on the ground. With Voldemort dead for years now Harry had felt that the part of his life where he watched those he loved die was over. Unfortunately all the evil in the world did not vanish with the dark wizard's demise. Several others had tried to take the place of Tom Riddle, to establish themselves as the new Dark Lord. None of them were successful though. The Order of the Phoenix managed to eliminate each one before they got a firm backing of supporters. Harry, as head of the Order, was present at the destruction of each one, many times being the one who cast the final curse.

As Harry stood he could feel the magic flowing through and around him. It whipped against his skin like a gale force wind though the night air was still. His robes were moving with the currents of magic and he was vaguely aware that the sounds of battling wizards were diminishing. He did not see that each fighter, no matter which side they had been fighting for, had stopped to stare at him. He was hyperaware of the magical signatures around him and knew exactly where their prime enemy of that night was.

Harry Potter's steps were purposeful as he strode across the glen towards the American wizard that had tried to take over the side of dark in Great Britain. His robes billowed behind him in a way that reminded many of Severus Snape. The man's eyes were wide with fear, making the whites stand out against his sun-darkened skin. At that moment Harry was more thankful than ever for the lessons on controlling his magic with Albus the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts. It was the only thing stopping him from cold-blooded mass murder. He raised his arm and pointed his wand at the offending wizard. A small part of him, deep inside, noticed the dark blood stains on his wand hand and keened with grief.

"Please, please, I'm sorry," the man begged as he fell to his knees. "Please don't kill me."

"I am not like you," Harry stated coldly. His arm was steady as he spoke in a deep, firm voice, Stupefy.

The man fell on his side and Harry conjured magical ropes to bind him for the aurors. He turned and saw that the man's followers were either frozen in place in fear or disapparating. The Order of the Phoenix members quickly followed Harry's lead and bound the remaining dark wizards and witches. The cells of Azkaban would be richer by about thirty wizards and witches that night, a mix of nationalities.

Harry was breathing slowly and steadily. It seemed like everything around him was occurring in slow motion. The aurors that were members of the Order were grouping together the prisoners for transport to Azkaban. Others were healing minor wounds and waking unconscious friends. The dead, luckily few in number, were laid together in a short row. Harry felt a hand on his arm and everything snapped back to its proper pace. He spun, wand ready to stun, and saw the concerned face of Hermione Weasley, his best friend.

He heard her gasp before she asked, "Harry are you okay?"

Harry looked down and saw the still wet blood on his hands and his robes, "It's not mine." His voice lacked emotion.

"Harry?" she prompted as she tried to make eye contact with him.

"Remus is dead," he admitted as he stepped towards her. He lowered his head so his forehead rested on her shoulder.

"Oh Merlin," she breathed. Hermione, four months pregnant with her first child, had only come to the site of the battle once it was all over.

Harry felt her hand rubbing circles on his back. She, along with Minerva, understood the relationship he shared with the werewolf more than anyone else. They were, in truth, the only ones who knew how he truly felt. After Harry had killed Voldemort the evening before his seventeenth birthday he had been transported back in time twenty years. There he finally had a chance to come to terms with the events leading up to Voldemort's demise.

He had also fallen in love with the soft spoken werewolf that was one his parents' best friends. Upon his return the feelings were still there for both of them, but the relationship did not progress beyond that of extremely close friends. They would snuggle, and kiss occasionally, but something held them back from anything more intimate. For Harry, there had been no one else in those four years, but he had never had the nerve to ask Remus if there was ever anyone else for the werewolf.

"Harry?" he heard Minerva's voice calling from close by.

He lifted his head, his eyes still dry, from Hermione's shoulder and turned to face the Headmistress of Hogwarts. He knew intellectually that Remus was gone but the knowledge had not reached past that level. Minerva was fighting back tears, looking much as she had at the memorial ceremony for Albus Dumbledore. She had been close to Remus too for several years. The two women standing with him were the closest friends he had. There was the whole Weasley family, and several of his classmates from Hogwarts, but he could only share his deepest cares with these two.

"I...I...," he began, stammering as if he were sixteen again. "I have to go."

Harry apparated to his house, quickly changed out of his blood stained robes, and put on a set of simple black robes and a light weight black cloak. He spelled himself clean and packed some of his most prized possessions in his old school trunk, shrinking it down to fit in a pocket. He left behind anything that could identify him or cause problems and apparated to Diagon Alley. He walked up the steps of Gringotts and told the goblin at the counter that he wished to make a withdrawal. Once inside his vault he pulled out a dragon hide money bag that was charmed to be bottomless and feather light and he filled it with nearly the entire combined Potter and Black fortunes. There was no reaction from the goblin at the extremely large amount of gold that Harry removed from the bank. Even the goblins were affected by Harry's fame.

He apparated to the edge of the Hogwarts wards and walked directly to Minerva's office. Even though he was no longer a student and was not a member of the staff he always had the password.

"Quiggly's Quaffles," he told the gargoyle. It slid aside and he stepped onto the moving spiral stairs.

The door opened to reveal that Minerva had not returned. She and Hermione were probably at his house searching for him. They would turn up in the office eventually. Harry went to a bookshelf in the back of the office and started pulling down stacks of parchment. Never comfortable sitting at a desk, he spread them out on the floor, sat cross-legged, and started flipping through the piles. Remus's death was only the final straw that decided on a course of action Harry had been contemplating for months, starting when Aberforth Dumbledore died. Fawkes flew down from his perch and landed on Harry's leg. The phoenix let out a quivering note that quieted Harry's frantic thoughts.

"Thanks," he whispered and stroked the deep red plumage. Fawkes nuzzled Harry's neck and Harry continued leafing through the copious notes that Albus had accumulated in his tenure as Headmaster. "For the greatest wizard of his time, he sure was disorganized. There are no dates on any of this," he complained to the bird.

"Maybe that was to make dangerous information harder to find," a gentle voice spoke.

"You know why I'm here Minerva," Harry said coldly. "Where's Hermione?"

"She's helping with the wounded. She is a certified medi-witch as well as an auror. I assured her I knew what you were doing and that you would be fine," the headmistress explained.

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Seeing him on the floor, searching through Albus's notes with a tear-stained face, tore at Minerva's heart. In Harry Potter, though forty-three years separated their births, she had found the younger brother she never had. This relationship had only begun when she found him unconscious on the grounds of Hogwarts in 1977 after he defeated Voldemort. When he had returned to 1997 they had developed their bond more deeply, becoming each other's confidant with the loss of Albus Dumbledore.

The inner circle of the Order of the Phoenix sat in a secret room inside the castle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This room had been used for meetings for the past year, ever since three students had been admitted into the society. Harry Potter had killed Voldemort, and in doing so had rid the world of a great evil, but evil still existed and the Order decided to remain active. There was still unfinished business with the Death Eaters and the Ministry was incompetent. With the loss of Albus Dumbledore in the final battle against Voldemort the Order was without its leader. Minerva McGonagall acted as the temporary leader of the secret society, until the ceremony that selected the new head.

She let a small smile form on her face as she looked around the room. Many of these people had been her students. The Weasley family, included some of the extended family members, were present. Severus Snape looked as sullen as ever, scowling across the table at Remus Lupin and Harry Potter. They were oblivious to his attention as the two discussed something quietly, their heads leaned close together. Hermione Granger sat on the other side of Harry talking to Ron Weasley. Those three were perhaps her favorite students, the Marauders coming in at a close second, despite all the trouble they landed themselves in.

One of the first things the Order had to do once they had a new leader was to find the traitor. Someone had betrayed the location of Harry's aunt and uncle's house and helped Voldemort get past the wards. Very few people could have succeeded in such a betrayal and the aurors were having no luck in finding the culprit. They had to be a member of the Order, which meant that unless the person was killed in the battle they were sitting in this room.

Once everyone sat down and quieted Minerva's smile faded. There were too many empty seats at the table. Each one of them demanded that the person who used to occupy the seat be remembered by the survivors. She looked from seat to seat and brought an image of each lost face to mind. Mundungus Fletcher was captured and tortured that summer for information that he never gave up. He was in St. Mungo's with the Longbottoms. Hestia Jones was lost in the final battle. Reyna Ackerley had disappeared, presumably captured and killed. When she finally rested her eyes on the seat at the head of the table she felt a tear slip down her cheek. Albus had told her not to mourn, but that was an impossible request. She took a deep breath and lit the candles in the center of the table, extinguishing all other light in the room.

"As we remember those who have gone before us we must move on. Many of you may not be aware of origins of the Order of the Phoenix. It was an ancient society, dedicated to fight against evil forces in our world. The first incarnation of the Order was founded over two thousands years ago to battle a wizard who intended to harness all the powers of evil in the world. It has often become dormant, only to be resurrected by those in great need. The Order was active when Atlantis fell and failed to save it. Merlin was head of the Order in the days of King Arthur. We have few records of the times between then and now but know that the Order attempted to halt the Great Plague and the medieval witch hunts and burnings. Albus Dumbledore reconvened the Order to fight Grindelwald and then Voldemort. Though Voldemort is now vanquished much evil remains in the world and the Order of the Phoenix needs a new leader," Minerva spoke clearly, her many years in the classroom steadying her voice.

She began the incantation that would set the conditions in which the new leader could be chosen. Each member of the Order stretched their arms out above the table, their hands cupped together and facing up. As she chanted the candlelight flickered, flashing a warm light on and off the faces of everyone seated around the oval table. Her voice grew steadily louder as the sound of phoenix song filled the room. The song was warming and comforting, tempting Minerva to stop speaking and allow it to wash over her and end her grief. She fought the temptation and continued to speak.

There was a flash of fire above the table and Fawkes appeared in the room. The majestic bird circled the room before landing on the table. He slowly turned and fixed his gaze on each person present in succession. He finished and took high to the air again in a blur of red and gold. There was another flash of fire and Fawkes was consumed in the blaze. The flames of the candles on the table crept down on their wicks, nearly plunging the room in blackness, than sprang up again. Minerva finished speaking and waited.

Slowly, Harry Potter stood, disbelief etched on his face. After years of achieving the impossible the boy was still shocked when the exceptional happened to him. Harry held aloft the newborn phoenix that had appeared in his hands. The firelight caught the infant bird and cast a golden glow around the seventeen-year-old wizard. He looked around the table and Minerva smiled when he caught her eye. He looked down at Remus and Minerva saw some unspoken communication pass between them. Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed back his chair.

Solemnly, The-Boy-Who-Lived walked the length of the table to stand by the head seat. He gently placed Fawkes on the table in front of the seat and sat down. When he looked up at the Order again Minerva saw the new confidence that he had brought back to this time with him. He was clearly James Potter's son, and obviously the apprentice of Albus Dumbledore. He seemed to have inherited the presence of the headmaster.

They had found the traitor at a great cost to the Order. The Weasley family luck finally ran out and Percy Weasley, who had been acting under the Imperious Curse, killed his older brother Bill and only sister Ginny when they discovered what he had done to their surrogate brother. He was captured by the Weasley twins, who were forced to kill him in the confrontation when all three of them were disarmed and the battle became physical.

Even with Harry's comforting presence and the addition of Hermione to the family, their fire was dimmed. The twins abandoned their joke shop to work in research and development for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry, with all of their findings shared with the Order of course. The talents that invented Extendable Ears were adapted to the benefit of the Ministry and the Order.

"You won't find what you're looking for there," Minerva interrupted Harry's search.

"How...?" he left his question unfinished.

"I won't try to persuade you to stay Harry."

Emerald green eyes, shining with unshed tears, looked up at her, "I can't keep watching them die, one by one."

Minerva sat down next the man whose twenty-first birthday was the next day, amazed that she still bent that well at her age. "I had hoped that with Voldemort gone you would have a chance to live your own life."

"This will be my chance," he said as he leaned against her.

"You know the rules...," she wrapped a comforting arm around his thin frame.

"I won't change any major events, though I am bound to change some minor things like I did before."

"When will you...?"

"1981, I think. I promise not the save them, or rescue Sirius, but Remus needed someone then and he was all alone," Harry suggested.

"I think November first is a good day," Minerva said.

Harry just nodded in agreement.

"Try his pensieve," she recommended. "He put everything there that one of us would need."

Harry gave her a sad smile and she brushed the hair out of his eyes. He had let it grow long but it was no easier to manage than when it was short. They both stood and crossed the office to the cabinet that held several of Albus's belongings. The bowl of silvery memories was in its proper place and they dipped their wands inside.

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