Chapter 1: Dad…I called for you but you never came
Mrs Weasley moved aside for Dumbledore, and his sweeping star studded cloak, and a dark green hooded figure that followed him into 12 Grimwald place. The passage was less grimy since a year ago, but there still was an unhealthy whiff around the place.
Dumbledore murmured a few choice words, and the oil lamps high, next to the brown border around the ceiling, lit casting long shadows on the dirty cream walls.
Mrs Weasley scurried ahead of the pair, and opened the last door at the end of the passage which was the kitchen. They all stepped inside the basking in the warm orange glow, and finally slid into the pine chairs surrounding the scrubbed wooden bench, complete with its long black burns. 'They just won't come out' thought Mrs Weasley, her ever practical mind thought, in its embarrassment.
Dumbledore unclasped his cloak and set the ends to either side of his chairs head. At the other side of the head of the table, was Sirius Black. His long shoulder length black hair pushed away from his face, and his face set in a defensive expression. Moony sat on his left, facing the black wrought kitchen stove, his elbow on the table and twisting his head to have a direct look at Dumbledore and the still hooded female.
Dumbledore glanced up, from looking at his long clasped fingers, and accepted the tea cup offered by Molly.
'Would you like one dear?' Mrs Weasley awkwardly asked the bowed head.
'No thank you'rang a clear feminine voice.
Sirius roughly pushed his chair back, scrapping its legs along the dark tiled floor. 'Sirius !!' Mrs Weasley administered. Ice blue eyes glared into the warm brown ones, which were worryingly starring at the floor under his chair.
The tall man stood, at the same time as the green 5.7 figure did, and Dumbledore. He strode around the bench purposefully, and upon reaching the cloaked figure pulled the cloak hood down.
Tendrils of jet black hair, pooled over the narrow shoulders, from its now broken bun. Shocked silver blue eye's, with its heightened dark eyebrows, stood out from the pale high boned face. Their gaze fixed upon Sirius.
'Hey!' he said softly, tucking one of the strands behind her ear, 'Anya.' The teen pursed her lips and lowered her head. Padfoot glanced at his friend, who was watching, taking the hint.
An arm wrapped around her shoulders pulling her into a strong, warm chest. Anya's mind swirled, as the events of the last few days took their toil, her mothers death…Dumbledore's visit telling her she didn't need to move to that orphanage…telling her alcoholic mother actually had a normal boyfriend once in her life and had a kid with him.
Sirius felt his daughter's fifteen year old body begin to shake in his arms. Closing his eyes, he slowly rested his head on her sweet smelling head, after kissing the crest, muttering soft assurances.
The room stayed awake, until one in the morning, when it was decided that Sirius should carry his now sleeping daughter to her bed.
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