_______ ✿☾☆♫ _______

________ ✿☾☆♫ _______

⚡︎
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎
ᵃˡˡ ⁱˢ ⁽ⁿᵒᵗ⁾ ʷᵉˡˡ

"ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ's
ᴏᴠᴇʀ, Dᴜɴɢ"

𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 as the two entered the room, they were met with the occupants eyes staring back at them, along with Mrs. Weasley glaring at Sirius rather harshly (which Harry thought was strange for Mrs. Weasley's kind nature). Although the silent stare down between the two didn't last long as Bill Weasley spoke up, "Journey all right, Harry?" Bill called, trying to gather up twelve scrolls at once. "Mad - Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, then?"

"He tried," said Tonks, striding over to help Bill and immediately sending a candle toppling onto the last piece of parchment. "Oh no — sorry —"

"Here, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, sounding exasperated, already being used to Tonk's clumsiness by now. She repaired the parchment with a wave of her wand: In the flash of light caused by Mrs. Weasley's charm, Harry caught a glimpse of what looked like the plan of a building.

Mrs. Weasley had seen him looking. She snatched the plan off the table and stuffed it into Bill's heavily laden arms. "This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings." she snapped before sweeping off toward an ancient dresser from which she started unloading dinner plates.

Bill took out his wand, muttered "Evanesco!" and the scrolls vanished.

"Sit down, Harry," urged Sirius. "You've met Mundungus, haven't you?" The thing Harry had taken to be a pile of rags gave a prolonged, grunting snore and then jerked awake.

"Some'n say m' name?" Mundungus mumbled sleepily. "I 'gree with Sirius . . ." he raised a very grubby hand in the air as though voting, his droopy, bloodshot eyes unfocused.

"The meeting's over, Dung," said Sirius distastefully as they all sat down around him at the table. "Harry's arrived."

"Eh?" said Mundungus, peering balefully at Harry through his matted ginger hair.

"Blimey, so 'e 'as. Yeah . . . you all right, 'arry?"

"Yeah," said Harry. Mundungus fumbled nervously in his pockets, still staring at Harry, and pulled out a grimy black pipe. He stuck it in his mouth, ignited the end of it with his wand, and took a deep pull on it. Great billowing clouds of greenish smoke obscured him in seconds. "Owe you a 'pology," grunted a voice from the middle of the smelly cloud.

"For the last time, Mundungus," called Mrs. Weasley shrilly, "will you please not smoke that thing in the kitchen, not when we're about to eat! And especially with the kids around!"

"Ah," said Mundungus. "right. Sorry, Molly." The cloud of smoke vanished as Mundungus stowed his pipe back in his pocket, but an acrid smell of burning socks lingered.

"And if you want dinner before midnight I'll need a hand," Mrs. Weasley said to the room at large. "No, you can stay where you are, Harry dear, you've had a long journey —" she finished when she had seen Harry begin to stand up.

"— What can we do Molly?" Tonks called as she got up from her chair rather enthusiastically, said chair screeching across the floor ever so slightly creating a violent sound making everyone present wince. Mrs. Weasley however, only looked from Tasmin, sending the girl a small smile in thanks, to Tonks uneasily before answering, "Er — no, it's all right, Tonks, you have a rest too, you've done enough today —"

"No, no I want to help!" was her reply, clearly not catching onto the woman's apprehensiveness.

Soon a series of heavy knives were chopping meat and vegetables of their own accord, supervised by Mr. Weasley, while Mrs. Weasley stirred a cauldron dangling over the fire and the others took out plates, more goblets, and food from the pantry. Harry was left at the table with Sirius and Mundungus, who was still blinking mournfully at him.

"Seen old Figgy since?" he asked.

"No," said Harry, "I haven't seen anyone."

"See, I wouldn't 'ave left," said Mundungus, leaning forward, a pleading note in his voice, "but I 'ad a business opportunity —"

Ignoring the man's usual antics, Sirius spoke up, gaining back Harry's attention from the tabby and ginger cat on his lap.

"Had a good summer so far?"

"No, it's been lousy," said Harry. For the first time, something like a grin flitted across Sirius's face.

"Don't know what you're complaining about, myself."

"What?" said Harry incredulously. He couldn't believe the words coming from his Godfather's mouth right now.

"Personally, I'd have welcomed a dementor attack. A deadly struggle for my soul would have broken the monotony nicely. You think you've had it bad, at least you've been able to get out and about, stretch your legs, get into a few fights . . . I've been stuck inside for a month."

"How come?" asked Harry, frowning.

"Because the Ministry of Magic's still after me, and Voldemort will know all about me being an Animagus by now, Wormtail will have told him, so my big disguise is useless. There's not much I can do for the Order of the Phoenix . . . or so Dumbledore feels." He finished solemnly, a look of subtle annoyance on his face. There was something about the slightly flattened tone of voice in which Sirius uttered Dumbledore's name that told Harry that Sirius was not very happy with the headmaster either. Harry felt a sudden upsurge of affection for his godfather.

"At least you've been able to know what's going on around here." spoke Harry annoyedly.

"Oh yeah," said Sirius sarcastically, somewhat matching the boy's tone.

"Listening to Snape's reports, having to take all his snide hints that he's out there risking his life while I'm sat on my backside here having a nice comfortable time . . . asking me how the cleaning's going —"

"— Cleaning?" Interrupted Harry, sure he knew this place wasn't the cleanest of places, (he knew the Dursley's would never even dare to step foot in a place such as this) but he didn't think that people were actually going around the place cleaning it from top to bottom, except from what Hermione had said earlier about clearing out the place.

"Trying to make this place fit for human habitation," said Sirius, waving a hand around the dismal kitchen. "No one's lived here for ten years, not since my dear mother died, unless you count her old house elf Kreacher, but he's gone round the twist mind you. He hasn't cleaned anything in years —"

"— Sirius?" said Mundungus, who did not appear to have paid any attention to this conversation, but had been minutely examining an empty goblet. "This solid silver, mate?"

"Yes," said Sirius, surveying it with distaste. "Finest fifteenth — century goblin — wrought silver, embossed with the Black family crest."

"That'd come off, though," muttered Mundungus, polishing it with his cuff.

"Fred — George — NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. Harry, Sirius, and Mundungus looked around and, a split second later, dived away from the table. Fred and George had bewitched a large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of butterbeer, and a heavy wooden breadboard, complete with knife, to hurtle through the air toward them. The stew skidded the length of the table and came to a halt just before the end, leaving a long black burn on the wooden surface, the flagon of butterbeer fell to the ground with a rather loud splash, spilling its contents everywhere. The bread knife hurtling itself to the wooden table right where Sirius' hand had been not long before.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" screamed Mrs. Weasley. "THERE WAS NO NEED — I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS — JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW YOU DON'T HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!" Mrs. Weasley screamed shrilly, somewhat repeating her words from earlier, sounding much to Harry like Sirius' mother.

"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" said Fred, hurrying forward and wrenching the bread knife out of the table. "Sorry Sirius, mate — didn't mean to —"

But they received no reply as both Sirius and Harry were laughing, and Mundungus who had toppled over in his chair backwards. He was swearing and muttering profanities under his breath as he got back to his feet, sitting grumpily back in his chair.

"Boys," Mr. Weasley said, lifting the stew back into the middle of the table, "your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now you've come of age —"

"— none of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!" Mrs. Weasley raged at the twins, slamming a fresh flagon of butterbeer onto the table and spilling almost as much again. "Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't Charm everything he met! Percy —"

She stopped dead, catching her breath with a frightened look at her husband, whose expression was suddenly wooden.

"Let's eat," said Bill quickly.

"It looks wonderful, Molly," said Lupin, ladling stew onto a plate for her and handing it across the table.

For a few minutes there was silence but for the clink of plates and cutlery and the scraping of chairs as everyone settled down to their food. Then Mrs. Weasley turned to Sirius and said, "I've been meaning to tell you, there's something trapped in that writing desk in the drawing room, it keeps rattling and shaking. Of course, it could just be a boggart, but I thought we ought to ask Alastor to have a look at it before we let it out."

"Whatever you like," said Sirius indifferently.

"The curtains in there are full of doxies too," Mrs. Weasley went on. "I thought we might try and tackle them tomorrow."

"I look forward to it," said Sirius. Harry heard the sarcasm in his voice, but he was not sure that anyone else did.

Opposite Harry, Tonks was entertaining Hermione, Tasmin and Ginny by transforming her nose between mouthfuls. Her nose swelled to a beaklike protuberance like Snape's, shrank to something resembling a button mushroom, and then sprouted a great deal of hair from each nostril. Apparently this was a regular mealtime entertainment, because after a while Hermione, Tasmin and Ginny started requesting their favorite noses.

"Oh! do that one like a pig snout, Tonks . . ." Tasmin requested all while she was still barely holding in her laughter.

Tonks obliged, and Harry, looking up, had the fleeting impression that a female Dudley was grinning at him from across the table.

Three helpings of rhubarb crumble and custard later and the waistband on Harry's jeans was feeling uncomfortably tight (which was saying something, as the jeans had once been Dudley's). He lay down his spoon in a lull in the general conversation. Mr. Weasley was leaning back in his chair, looking replete and relaxed, Tonks was yawning widely, her nose now back to normal, and Ginny and Tasmin, who had lured Crookshanks out from under the dresser, were sitting cross — legged on the floor, rolling butterbeer corks for him to chase.

"Nearly time for bed, I think," said Mrs. Weasley on a yawn.

"Not just yet, Molly," said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort." Immediately, the atmosphere in the room changed with the rapidity Harry associated with the arrival of dementors. Where seconds before it had been sleepily relaxed, it was now alert, even tense. A frisson had gone around the table at the mention of Voldemort's name. Lupin, who had been about to take a sip of wine, lowered his goblet slowly, looking wary.

"I did!" said Harry indignantly. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so —"

"And they're quite right," said Mrs. Weasley. "You're too young." She was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched upon its arms, every trace of drowsiness gone.

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" asked Sirius. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen —"

"Hang on!" interrupted George loudly. "How come Harry gets his questions answered?" said Fred angrily.

"We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!" said George."

"'You're too young, you're not in the Order,'" said Fred, in a high - pitched voice that sounded uncannily like his mother's. "Harry's not even of age!"

"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing," said Sirius calmly. "That's your parent's decision. Harry, on the other hand —"

"— It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply. Her normally kind face looked dangerous. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

"Which bit?" Sirius asked politely, but with an air as though readying himself for a fight.

"The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know," said Mrs. Weasley, placing a heavy emphasis on the last three words. Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George's heads turned from Sirius to Mrs. Weasley as though following a tennis rally. Ginny and Tasmin were kneeling amid a pile of abandoned butterbeer corks, watching the conversation with their mouths slightly open. Lupin, Catherine and Michael's eyes were solely fixed on Sirius.

"I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly," said Sirius. "But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name), "he has more right than most to —"

"— He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" said Mrs. Weasley. "He's only fifteen and —"

"— and he's dealt with as much as most in the Order," said Sirius, "and then more than some —"

"No one's denying what he's done!" said Mrs. Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. "But he's still —"

"— He's not a child!" said Sirius impatiently.

"He's not an adult either!" said Mrs. Weasley, the color rising in her cheeks. "He's not James, Sirius!"

"I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly," said Sirius rather coldly, his calm demeanour diminishing rather quickly now.

"Sometimes I'm not so sure you are!" said Mrs. Weasley. "Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"

"What's wrong with that?" said Harry.

"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!" said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes still boring into Sirius.

"You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"

"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" demanded Sirius, his voice rising.

"Meaning you've been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and —"

"We'll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!" said Sirius loudly.

"Arthur!" said Mrs. Weasley, rounding on her husband. "Arthur, back me up here!" Mr. Weasley did not speak at once. He took off his glasses and cleaned them slowly on his robes, not looking at his wife. Only when he had replaced them carefully on his nose did he say, "Dumbledore knows the position has changed, Molly. He accepts that Harry will have to be filled in to a certain extent now that he is staying at headquarters —"

"— Yes, but there's a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!"

"Personally," said Lupin quietly, speaking for the first time, looking away from Sirius at last, as Mrs. Weasley turned quickly to him, hopeful that finally she was about to get an ally, "I think it better that Harry gets the facts — not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture — from us, rather than a garbled version from . . . others."

His expression was mild, but Harry felt sure that Lupin, at least, knew that some Extendable Ears had survived Mrs. Weasley's purge.

"Well," said Mrs. Weasley, breathing deeply and looking around the table for support that did not come, "well . . . I can see I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has got Harry's best interests at heart —"

"— And I don't?" Sirius questioned rashly, not missing a beat between Mrs. Weasley's last interrupted sentence.

She huffed angrily before answering the man's question.

"He's not your son."

"He's not your son either," said Sirius quietly.

"He's as good as! Who else has he got?" She asked.

"He's got me!"

Harry looked down, beginning to grow more uncomfortable with the ongoing argument between his Godfather and Mrs. Weasley. They were acting like he wasn't even present in the room. A certain girl seemed to notice and sent him a small smile, much like the one she had given him earlier, Harry sent the girl one back.

"Yes," said Mrs. Weasley, her lip curling. "The thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"

Sirius started to rise from his chair. "Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," said The oldest Barlow sharply, trying to calm his friend down.

"Sirius, sit down." He commanded. By now, Mrs. Weasley's lower lip was trembling. Sirius sank slowly back into his chair, his face a ghostly white.

"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this," Lupin added. "He's old enough to decide for himself."

"I want to know what's been going on," Harry said at once.

He did not look at Mrs. Weasley. He had been touched by what she had said about him being as good as a son, but he was also impatient at her mollycoddling . . . Sirius was right, he was not a child. He never really was.

"Very well," said Mrs. Weasley, her voice cracking. "Ginny — Ron — Tasmin — Hermione — Fred — George — I want you out of this kitchen, now."

There was instant uproar.

"We're of age!" Fred and George bellowed together.

"If Harry's allowed, why can't I?" shouted Ron.

"Why do I have to leave?" Questioned Tasmin.

That question only earned her two stern looks from her parents. "Tasmin, go upstairs." Her mother had spoken. The girl in mention was about to speak, only to be interrupted by her father, "Now Tasmin." The girl only sighed in defeat before turning out of the room with Hermione.

"Mum, I want to!" wailed Ginny.

"NO!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, standing up, her eyes overbright. "I absolutely forbid —"

"— Molly, you can't stop Fred and George," said Mr. Weasley wearily. "They are of age —"

"They're still at school —"

"— But they're legally adults now," said Mr. Weasley in the same tired voice. Mrs. Weasley was now scarlet in the face. "I — oh, all right then, Fred and George can stay, but Ron —"

"Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!" said Ron hotly. "Won't — won't you?" he added uncertainly, meeting Harry's eyes. Harry only nodded in confirmation to his friend's question.

"'Course I will," Harry said. Ron beamed.

"Fine!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "Fine! Ginny — BED!"

Ginny did not go quietly however, they could hear her raging and storming at her mother all the way up the stairs, and when she reached the hall, Mrs. Black's earsplitting shrieks were added to the din. Lupin and Catherine hurried off to the portrait to restore calm. It was only after they had returned, closed the kitchen door behind them, and had taken their seat at the table again, that Sirius spoke.

"Okay, Harry . . . what do you want to know?"

HERMIONE AND Tasmin were making their way through the dimly lit walls of 12 Grimmauld Place silently, the only noise that could be heard was the quiet shuffling of their shoes and the shrill shrieks of Walburga Black which were soon silenced, this was broken however, by Hermione's voice, "Dreadful this place isn't it?" She spoke while peering down at the long row of decapitated house elves they had just walked by.

"Absolutely." Tasmin agreed.

The two fell silent again after that, her and Hermione hadn't talked much since she'd been here. The two people she had talked to the most was probably the Weasley twins, she was only beginning to be able to tell them apart (which she was sure Mrs. Weasley most certainly couldn't do at the best of times). They were extremely funny and the girl enjoyed their pranks as she hadn't been on the receiving end of one of their pranks just yet (Tasmin hoped she never would). Although Ron hadn't been so lucky, him pretty much always being on the receiving end of them. A sudden light nudge on her shoulder made her look to her left, it had been Hermione, in the time she was thinking silently to herself, they had made their way to the room the two along with Ginny were currently occupying.

She gestured for Hermione to go in first, her sending the girl a small nod in thanks. Hermione opened the door only to see Ginny already in bed, she looked to be asleep to the two girls who had just entered the room.

The two were in silence once more while getting ready for bed. This time, it was Tasmin who had broken the much needed quietude.

"So, how long have you known them?" She questioned. Hermione looked up at the girl in slight confusion. By 'them', she had really only meant Harry, but Tasmin would never tell the bushy - haired girl that.

"Harry and Ron I mean, how long have you been friends?"

"Oh. Well, at first we weren't even friends at all, more like . . ." She stopped and racked her brain for the appropriate word. "acquaintances. Ron had been horrid to me at first. Said I was a 'nightmare'" Hermione continued while thinking back to Ron's words about her in first year sadly.

"Really?"

"Really, yes. But then they saved me from a rogue troll in the girl's bathroom and we ended up becoming friends, we lost quite a few points mind you but it was worth it in the end as we ended up gaining some as well."

"You know I actually remember that." she reminisced.

"You do?"

"Yeah. Everybody was talking about it. How the famous Harry Potter and his friends had taken down a troll.

"Oh, well, it was all Ron and Harry really. I just told them the spells to use."

"Sure. There's a reason they call you the brightest witch of your age you know."

Hermione only looked at the girl with a perplexed expression on her face. "People say that?" she asked with doubt laced in her tone, remembering back to her time in third year when Sirius had said that to her after they had helped him escape with Buckbeak.

"Sure. I've heard Professors and people say it all the time." she only flushed slightly at that, making the girl in turn laugh slightly.

The two girls stayed up talking for a while more, Tasmin hadn't even noticed the time until Hermione had brought up how late it was, and that Mrs. Weasley was probably going to come upstairs soon to tell them to go to sleep.

"Goodnight 'Mione." Tasmin spoke.

"Goodnight Tasmin."

And with that, the two girls fell asleep.

BEAUTIFUL GIF MADE BY sporadicstarsx

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