A/N: Hello! Well, I did say one day I would maybe publish a story! This is my first ever story, so I wan't lots of feedback. I'm not going to whore out the review button, but if you dislike something, or find something funny, just leave me a nice little note! So quickly to explain, this is the introduction chapter. I'm thinking this will be the only chapter in first person for quite some time, only because I feel like this story would go over better in thrid person. But we'll see! So anywho, onto the story! I hope you enjoy.
Summary: When Arabelle Crown left the school ball for those few short minutes of air, she had no idea what she had just walked into, And when Ginny Weasley came upon a person covered in fabric on the floor, she had a feeling it couldn't be good.
Are We Falling or Flying
"It's not that Im afraid
but sometimes
When Im alone up here
and know that I can't go higher
i think I'll just
walk off the edge
and either
fall or Fly."
- Unknown
Chapter 1: Of Dungbombs, Crushes and Ball Gowns
As I peered over the railing, looking down at the kitchen door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, I knew my efforts were futile. Every Dungbomb I threw throttled away, landing on the floor. "Damn her…" I couldn't help but think. Of course my mother put an Imperturbable Charm on the door. It would be too easy if she didn't. I finally gave up my pointless labors and tiptoed down the stairs, not wanting to awaken Mrs. Black, the retched painting that gave me a start only a fortnight ago. You see, it all started…
2 weeks prior
I sat in the back of the spacious Ministry-provided car, surrounded by snoring red-headed boys, I decided I would indulge my curiosity.
"Mom, where are we going?"
"I can't tell you Ginny dear, but we will be there soon enough."
Bullocks. She gave me that same answer, word for word, 40 minutes ago. That was about the same answer I got out of everyone I asked. It was unfair how all knowing my brothers seemed and yet, me being the youngest AND a girl, I get left out COMPLETELY. Injustice if you ask me. Why could I not just be informed of why I am being dragged out of my home with neither clue of WHERE I'm going, nor why I am going there. No, Merlin forbid I know anything. One of these days, I swear, I will have an AMAZING secret, and I will not tell one member of my family until the last bearable moment, as they beg me for mercy, and then, and only then, will I tell them. One of these days…
"Gin. Gin! Earth to Ginny! We're here!" Ron called from the door.
As I glance around at the surrounding neighborhood, I knew waking up that morning had been a dreadful idea. The houses lining the street were dreary and depressing. Broken windows and chipped paint was what welcomed me to my new home for the summer. Oh the joy that over-whelmed me when I stepped out of the soft, comfortable car and onto the hard, urine soaked concrete road. A sudden jab in my ribs awoke me from my thoughts, as Fred (or George, who knows really) Handed me a small piece of paper.
"And what is this?" I choked, not exactly thrilled about my up-coming days, weeks… months.
"Just read in Gin. Memorize it." He answered. Either he didn't notice my anger, or ignored it pretty well.
And so I did. The paper read:
"The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."
I looked up at the houses. Number ten, number eleven, number thirteen… whoever wrote this paper must be a complete nutter.
"Mum, it says here num-"
A collective "SHHH" ensues and I figure I should probably stop talking. I handed the parchment to Ron and stood there, waiting for something, anything really, to happen. Finally the paper and made its way around the group. After being instructed to remember what we read, an amazing thing happened. A HOUSE appeared in-between number eleven and thirteen, and on this grimy, old looking house was the number 12. I glanced around, and my brothers were just as apprehensive as I was. Where did this house come from? And the more burning question: Why are we here? I decided to voice this last thought.
"Why are we here? No I mean…Why are we HERE? Of all the places we could have gone in that car, we are HERE. Why is that?" I knew, even as I asked the question, I would never get a straight answer, but I still asked away.
"We are here for a good reason Ginny, you'll find out soon enough." My dad answered that time, and I'm pretty sure that was the first time he had spoken all morning, at least to me.
I grumbled a "Fine." In response and walked up to the house, carrying my bags as I went. After anxiously checking around, my dad opened the door to let us in. As I stepped through the doorway, I knew I should have stayed outside. Inside was about five times worse, seeing as it looked as though the house hadn't been lived in for years, which I doubted it had.
It took my eyes a few seconds to register to the darkness before I really took in what I was seeing. Straight from the entrance, there is a narrow hallway that leads to an old, peeling door and a staircase. Looking up, it seemed like the stairs went on for at least 4 levels up. My mother shushed us, told us to place our bags in the rooms she pointed us to.
After a nice, grueling walk up two flights of stairs with three large bags, I finally settled down in my room. It was a small room, two beds and a bath next door. Nothing exciting really. The beds were dressed with faded black sheets, and the walls were an indefinable colour after so many years. But after starring at this small room for so long, I decided to leave before going bonkers. Walking out onto the level, I realized just how vulgar this house is. Leaning over the railing, I can see heads of house-elves lining the walls. What kind of mad house is this? It's absolutely disgusting, that's for sure. Paintings of old, dignified looking blokes covered the walls. I recognized one from Dumbledore's office, the one night in second year I had been there. An old headmaster I guess. Continuing along the wall I see a large velvet curtain, hiding what I would presume to be a door, no doubt.
Being my curious self, I decide to investigate. Slowly grabbing the inner edges of the curtains, I open it slightly, just to peek in, but of course, something must go wrong. Within seconds, the curtains are pulled wide apart and a painting of a deranged woman is screaming at the top of her lungs. Not at me, just screaming in general. Before I even have a chance to regain my composure, she started screeching louder.
"…Stains of dishonor, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth-"
But before she could even finished her rant, footsteps came rushing from every which direction. A young man with long black hair came running from the room at the end of the hall. I had seen him before, years back on posters everywhere. Then it hit me. Sirius Black, convicted mass murderer, was running up the stairway towards me.
And the only thought in my head was, "I am going to die."
As soon as I realized what I was doing, it was too late to turn back (not that I would have, of course). In a moment, a burst of Gryffindor courage and lack of thought had caused me to pull out my wand and start firing every hex and curse I knew at this guy. No hesitations, no second thoughts, just plain fighting.
Actually, you can't call it fighting, because he wasn't even firing back. He didn't even have his wand. Instead, he was waving his arms, yelping, and dodging every spell I threw. Well, that is until I hit him with a particularly nasty bat- bogey hex. That stopped him, but not for long. As soon as my parents and brothers realized what was going on, they came to help. And they didn't even help me, their own daughter and sister. No, my parents were helping crazy, raving, escaped- from- Azkaban, Sirius Black. I was really feeling the love.
But then I dawned on me, through all of my shrieks and flails, why were my parents helping Sirius Black. Should they not be proud of me for catching a convicted killer? Amazed at my master hexing skills? Flabbergasted by my quick thinking? But no. Instead, they are helping Sirius -Fuckin'- Black off the floor and APOLOGISING. Now I know, you must be as confused as I am, but seeing as I was IN the situation, I decided to take control.
"WHAT IN MERLINS NAME ARE YOU DOING? DO YOU NOT REALIZE WHO THAT IS? YOU KNOW THAT MASS MURDER? You must know the one? The one who killed 13 MUGGLES? Yeah. THAT'S HIM. RIGHT THERE. THE ONE YOU'RE HELPING OFF THE FLOOR AFTER I MASTERLY ATTACKED HIM IN A SPLIT OF A SECOND! THAT'S THE ONE." As I was screeching my rant, I realized everyone had fallen silent, and that includes the twins, my parents, my old DADA teacher whom I hadn't noticed was even there, the mass murderer, and the painted on the crazy woman on the wall. SILENT.
The raven haired man brushed himself off as he stood up, smirking as he did so. "So… anyone care to explain? Or shall I do the honors?"
Mum and Dad took the opportunity to shut the curtains while I sat dumbfounded, listening to the tale of how exactly Sirius Black, Harry Potter's Godfather, came to be at this lovely (grimace) residence, and why exactly I am here.
Back to the present…
And so that brings you to where we are now, number twelve Grimmauld Place, London. As I crept down another floor I can hear shuffling down below. As I peer down I see Mad-eye and Lupin step through the doors, whispering about something. All I knew was that they left to retrieve Harry about 3 hours ago, and that they were flying in by broom.
As she turned into her room, she heard footsteps climbing up the stairs. 'He must be here' she thought. Her heart gave a small, involuntary leap at the thought. 'No! I cannot like him! I just got over him! And anyways, I'm dating Michael Corner! What more could I want?'
The house was quite as always as I sorted through her stuff, in search of socks. Grimmauld place was always quite cold, no matter the month. It was like living underground; just worse.
A loud shout gave me a fright, someone screaming a floor up. I recognized the voice almost immediately. Harry's here! And about time, too! I was growing quite bored. You know, the same old secret society, invisible house and power crazed dark-lord get quite dull after a while. I start to make my way down the up the stairs, towards the room where all hell has broken loose, when I hear another noise. Not as obvious as the screaming, but quite recognizable it its own manner. It was a crack; a loud crack. That's the noise I heard, and I already knew that Fred and George had beat me to the room. Damn the 'under-aged magic 'law. To hell with the ministry, their corrupt anyways. And what is it with their bowler hats? Is it mandatory, or do they just choose to look like uncanny people? I think it's a choice, seeing as my dad doesn't wear one, and he works at the ministry. But he's in Muggle Affairs, so I don't think he really counts. I've finally gotten to the door, when I realize that I'm a little nervous to enter. I stand there, pondering whether I should go in or not. If I go in, on the up side I see Harry; on the down side, I see Harry. You see my predicament? It's not that I like Harry or anything, not at all. I have Michael Corner, an extremely attractiveRavenclaw. Yes, I know, a Ravenclaw, but he's really sweet and nice and… Okays I still like Harry but that's beside the point. Michael and I have something special. I'm not saying I don't like Harry, but I've come to realize that I have absolutely no chance in hell, and so I have moved on. A new page, you could say.
"Breath in… Breath out…"
Okay, I'm going in. Harry's not scary! Not at all. The boy who live? That's not intimidating! No, not at all. Alright, I just have to conjure up all that Gryffindor courage and just go. Okay, I'm going in.
As I opened the door, I spotted him. Standing in the middle of the room, looking disheveled and sexy… I mean good looking, from an outsider's point of view of course. I'm only commenting, nothing more…
"Oh, hello, Harry!" I managed to squeak out. "I thought I heard your voice." That's really not what I meant to say. He doesn't seem to notice, seeing as he's still fuming, so I continue with my awkward plight.
I turned to Fred and George and informed them of the minor disposition we are facing with plan 'Listen to the Secret Meetings of the Order of the Phoenix', as I like to call it, but for short it's LSMOP. It hasn't exactly caught on, but it will… in good time.
After discussing the matter at hand, Snape's involvement in the Order, and my absolutely retched non-brother, and the shit-worthy jokes of the Daily Prophet, Harry had to be calmed down and told that we believed him. Poor bloke has to go up to the Ministry soon and prove that he's innocent. Shouldn't it be innocent until proven guilty, not the other way round? But soon enough, there were footsteps outside the door. Fred and George did a quick turn and were out of site before my mother could even open the door.
"The meeting's over, you can come down and have dinner now. Everyone's dying to see you, Harry. And who's left all those Dungbombs outside the kitchen door?"
Oh shit. It's all over. I'm a terrible liar. She'll see right through me. Plus my hands are filthy, and I can't deny how suspicious that looks. "Crookshanks," Come on, Ginny. Think, think, think! "He loves playing with them." Please work, please, please, pleasseee work!
"Oh," YES! "I thought it might have been Kreacher, he keeps doing odd things like that. Now don't forget to keep your voices down in the hall. Ginny," Shit. She saw my hands. "Your hands are filthy, what have you been doing? Go and wash them before dinner, please." Phew! All clear!
I followed my mum out of the room and slipped into the washroom, where I quickly washed my hands for dinner. I tip-toed down the stairs, careful not to make a squeak. I don't think I could take Mrs. Black right now. It's not the screaming that gets you; it's the initial shock of it all. You would never a painting to start screeching insults at you, but that's exactly what happens. The worst part is that the painting won't come off. It just will not be moved. Ever. It's a shame. But that's why the curtains are there. To hide that dreadful woman's face. She's really awful, she is.
As I near the bottom of the stairs, I'm greeted by a welcoming site. Professor Lupin, Tonks and my mum are sealing the doors behind whoever left. I give a small smile and slip passed them, into the kitchen where dinner is being prepared. But as soon as I enter, a loud crash emits from behind the door I just entered. Fuck, not aga-
Before I can even finish my thoughts, a loud shriek bellows throughout the small house. I've become far too used to it. It's un-natural. This sound is so high pitched I can barley think, let alone function when it's going off.
I scurry up the stairs, finally on the same landing as this woman, just in time to see Sirius and Lupin shut the curtains. From Harry's facial expression, I could tell that nobody forewarned him that this may happen. At least we have something in common: Ignorance. Most people say 'ignorance is bliss'. I beg to differ. Ignorance SUCKS; it's dumb, literally.
Somehow I've ended up back in the kitchen, a cave like room, not a lot of light except for the fire. Tonks just managed to light fire to some parchment, a strange looking drawing on it. I didn't get a good look though, because mum snatched it up before I could concentrate.
"Sit down, Harry. You've met Mundungus, haven't you?" At the mention of his name, Dung jerked awake.
"Some'n say m'name? I 'gree with Sirius…" was all he mumbled, raising his hand to put his two-cents in. I really couldn't help but giggle.
"The meetings over, Dung, Harry's arrived." As Harry and Mundungus talked about who knows what, I went to the cabinet to collect the cutlery for dinner.
"What can I do, Molly?" Tonks asked as she bounded across the room.
"Er – no, it's alright, Tonks, you have a rest too, you've done enough today." I could tell my mum didn't want her help, in fear for everyone's well being, and, for that, I could barely hold back a snigger. Oh Tonks, so hopeless. I pity the person who marries her and must safety pad their entire house. Oh poor, poor man. I hear a distinctive crash, much like earlier, behind me, as Tonks comes bouncing towards me, knocking over a chair in her path. At this point, I'm in the midst of a silent fit of laughter.
Dinner went over strangely well. Everyone enjoyed all the rhubarb crumble and custard. After-dinner conversation today was dull, so I got up and collected a handful of butterbeer corks and placed them on the ground. After luring out Crookshanks, I lay down and rolled the corks, moving them just before the cat could swat its paw my way. That's when, you could say, shit hit the fan.
"Nearly time for bed, I think." When my mother announces bed time, it's best you listen.
"Not just yet, Molly" Sirius countered. I was halfway to my feet when he spoke, and froze; I was left kneeling on the ground, stopping to see what he had to say that was so important. He turned 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."
The room fell still, silent, as the word left his mouth.
"I did! I asked Ron and Hermione, but they said that were not allowed in the Order, so-"
My mom interrupted, steam could have been bellowing out of her ears. Fred and George looked furious, not being allowed answers either. And that's when it happened. An all out war started between my mother and Sirius Black. All I could do was kneel there, mouth agape. They yelled about how much he needs to know, about how he was the one who saw You-Know-Who return, and then my mother made a low shot.
"He's not a child!" Sirius fought.
"He's not an adult, either!" my mother opposed. "He's not James, Sirius!" Ouch…
"I'm perfectly clear on who he is, thanks, Molly." Now he was pissed. His eyes weren't their normal, smoky grey, but a dark, scarred grey, full of anger and history. He's quite attractive when he's angry.
Not the time, Ginny, not the time.
The fighting ensued, a few additional comments or opinions here or there, but mostly my mother and Black, at each other's neck. My mother called Harry her son (awe) and said he didn't have many other people. Then Sirius said that he had him (double awe). Then my mother brought up Azkaban, Sirius looked ready to kill for real this time, and that's when Lupin interjected.
"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this. He's old enough to decide for himself." Thank Merlin for Remus Lupin: Mediator extraordinaire!
That's when my mum knew she had lost the battle. "Ginny – Ron – Hermione – Fred – George – I want you out of this kitchen, now."
BULLOCKS. SHE MUST BE MAD IF SHE THINKS I'M GOING ANYWHERE.
I wasn't the only person with this opinion either. Ron looked furious, Hermione looked taken aback by the condescending tone, and Fred and George look astounded at her proposal, but it wasn't long before they were yelling as well. My father managed to talk the crazy bansheee into letting the twins stay, Ron talked him and Hermione's way in, and I was all that was left.
"Fine! Ginny – Bed!" This is madness, an abomination! Injustices!
"NO! This is SO UNFAIR! I'm not that much younger! You can't do this! Let go of me! This is ghastly! What happened to free rights? Let go this minute, I tell you! Let go, let go, LET GO!" I fought and screamed the entire way up, soon joined by Mrs. Black, who I was happy to have screaming insults at the lot of them. Wrong doing, this is. They will regret this! Finally, my mother got me to my room door, whispered some very rude things at me, and told me to go to bed. She then turned and scurried down the stairs.
I have the meanest family ever.
I opened my door, about to step inside, when I heard a thump from behind me. I was slightly intrigued, but also extremely concerned. Did someone follow me? Is it someone, or something?
Questions raced though my head at a million kilometers per second. I decided to turn.
I'm a Gryffindor, brave at heart. Something, something, something set Gryffindors apart. Yeah, that's it. Something sets me apart. But what could it be?
I slowly turned around to face my creeper, but came to face nothing. Wait, nothing? At all? Well, phew! That's good. I was slightly concerned, but now I know –
Out of the bottom of my vision I see movement, and that's when I looked down for the first time. On the floor, in a heap of material, was a girl. She had light brown hair, blue eyes, and was wearing a large, emerald green ball gown. I was far too stunned for words. But, apparently, she was not. Within seconds of spotting me, she had wrapped her arms around me.
"Oh Lily! Thank goodness I found you! You will not believe what has happ – You're not Lily… "
"No, well spotted, I'm not. Who are you? And who is Lily?"
"I could be asking you the same question! I am Arabelle Crown. And Lily Evans is my best friend."
Oh. Shit.