A/N: I own nothing. La-di-da. This is unrelated to my other stories, and even though it's someone falling into the stories, I plan to FOR THE FIRST TIME change major plot factors, so I promise surprises along the way. Cheers.
UPDATE: I'm officially editing this story now! There might be small changes along the way, nothing major, but if you're rereading and something looks different, that's why!
-C
It had been a typical day in the Capilla household. Mr. Capilla went to work at the hospital. Mrs. Capilla ran errands, made dinner, and did housework. Alexandra Capilla did some online coursework and word searches. Mark and Nathan Capilla went to a pool party, piano lessons, and came home to play some tennis. Morrighan Capilla did a bit of packing, played video games, and read her favorite book - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - once again. Sometime after dinner, Monica Capilla called to report on her first day of work, her husband's first day on the job hunt, and their daughter's first day at preschool.
After dinner, Morrighan took a long bath, ran over a list of things still needing to be packed before going back to school, and went to bed. If she dreamt of anything, she did not remember it when she woke up. Indeed, nothing worth mentioning happened until she awoke, because she did not wake in her own bed, but on a rather old carpet in an eerily familiar hallway she had never seen before in her life.
Voices could be heard from down a stairwell, toward a basement, perhaps. Forgetting she was topless - for Morrighan had gotten into the habit of sleeping topless when she went off to college the year before – she got to her feet and crept down the stairwell, toward the voices.
"Think you can do the guard, Remus? He knows and trusts you," a gruff voice said as she drew closer.
Remus? As in, Remus Lupin?
"Of course," a tired, hoarse voice replied. "Tonks, have you sent his relatives the diversion?"
Tonks? Remus?
Morrighan shouldn't have done it, but that could have been said of many things in her life.
Perhaps not fully aware that she had woken up and that this was not, in fact, a dream, she walked right into the kitchen basement to find a fair number of eyes turn to her with surprised, confused, and embarrassed expressions. They blinked at her. She blinked back, suddenly acutely aware that she was not dreaming. A handsome man with raven black hair near the middle of the table broke the silence.
"Albus?"
The incredibly elderly man at the head of the table – who Morrighan recognized by description as Albus Dumbledore – stood swiftly and ushered her back up the stairs ahead of him. He grabbed a sweater that had been on the counter as he went. When they reached the top of the stairs he handed it to her, alerting her to her toplessness.
"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry," she muttered, embarrassed, pulling the sweater on hastily.
"Who are you," he said in a kind but serious tone, "and how did you get here?"
"My name is Morrighan Capilla," she said nervously, "and I don't know how I got here. I mean, I fell asleep in my bed and I woke up on the floor in a world that only exists in books."
He frowned.
"Excuse me?"
"Where I'm from," she explained slowly, considering her words carefully, "everything about your world is in a seven-book series following Harry Potter from ages eleven to seventeen in his ongoing struggles with Voldemort. But it's fiction. I've read it all so many times, sir, I can tell you almost anything to prove it."
Still frowning, he said, "How much of the meeting did you hear?"
"Just what Remus and Moody just said, Professor," she said honestly, "but this must be the meeting before they go with Tonks, Kingsley, Dedalus, Mr. Doge, Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, and Hestia Jones to rescue Harry from his relatives so he can await his court date here at Grimmauld Place."
"You're from America?" he asked, seemingly satisfied. "How old are you?"
"From California, yes," she replied. "I'm nearly twenty."
"Stay right here," he ordered. He retreated briefly down the stairs and returned with the handsome man and a kindly redheaded woman in shabby robes. "Molly, Sirius, this is Miss Morrighan Capilla. She will be staying with us until further notice. I will explain more about her circumstances at a later time. For now, we need to see that she is properly accommodated."
"We can squeeze her in with Ginny and Hermione," Molly Weasley said shrewdly as she circled Morrighan, appraising her. "She's a bit small for Ginny's things. Perhaps Hermione could loan her some clothes until we have more permanent arrangements."
"Sounds fine," Sirius Black said. "I don't suppose you've got any gold, Morrighan?"
"N-no," she gasped, realizing she had nothing with her but a pair of flimsy pajama shorts and underwear.
"If you need anything, you can use mine. Merlin knows I've got more than I know what to do with."
"Excellent," Albus said. "Tomorrow I think Tonks and Miss Granger should take her into London for some shopping, both for Muggle clothes and other things. Sirius, I'd like you to be in charge of her magical education. I think between you and Remus the basics should be simple enough to cover. Severus will squeeze in a few Potions lessons on holidays. Consider her care your assignment until we can clear your name, Sirius."
"Of course," Sirius said, who seemed suddenly happier, as if he'd just been granted some essential task. Morrighan knew what it must mean to him, having something he was supposed to do more than cleaning his ancestral home.
Still, Morrighan protested, "But I don't think I need magical education, sir. I'm not a witch."
Albus gave her a kindly smile and said, "Miss Capilla, I think I'm a fairly good judge of magical ability, and I've certainly had more practice at it than you have. Believe me when I say you are a witch, and a rather powerful one at that. Now, Molly, I must return to the meeting. Could you see to it that Miss Capilla has a place to sleep for the night?"
It wasn't long before Morrighan found herself being ushered up more stairs to a room with two sleeping girls in it. There was no third bed, but Molly conjured a cot in the corner and told her where the nearest bathroom was before whispering a hasty, but kind, good night and rushing back to the meeting. Morrighan was asleep again as soon as her head hit the pillow.
She awoke the following morning with two pairs of brown eyes ogling at her as she looked up at an unfamiliar ceiling. One girl had bushy brown hair; the other was a slender, tall redhead. Both were quite pretty. The ceiling, on the other hand, could have done with a fair amount of scrubbing and a fresh coat of paint.
"Um, good morning," Morrighan mumbled sleepily as she sat up and stretched.
"We don't mean to be rude or anything," the bushy one said sharply, "but who are you?"
"Morrighan Capilla," she said in that automatic way one spits out one's own name when introducing oneself that makes it sound foreign to one's ears.
"But who are you?" the tall one pressed.
Morrighan then proceeded to explain, as she had to Albus Dumbledore the night before: who she was, how she had no idea how she had got there, and everything that had occurred since she had arrived. The girls were a proper audience, being acceptably bewildered and sympathetic, as well as excited to have another female resident.
"Oh good, you girls are up," said Molly when she entered. "It's time for breakfast. Tonks should be here to get you two soon, Hermione, Morrighan. You'd better get dressed and come on down."
Ginny threw on a pair of jeans and black t-shirt, combed her hair, and was out the door in seconds. Hermione put on a plaid dress, pulled her hair into something like braids, and then turned to the task of readying Morrighan.
"Now, let's see. That red hair will make things interesting. We don't want you to wear something that clashes. Oh, here we go."
Hermione handed her a plain gray t-shirt and a pair of boyfriend jeans. Morrighan would never have picked something so dull on her own accord, but she was simply grateful to have clothes. Borrowing a clip from Hermione, Morrighan grabbed couple of strands of hair that were framing her face and pinned them back. Then Hermione led her down to the kitchen for breakfast.
The kitchen was already quite full. Remus and Sirius were sipping tea at one end of the table while Ginny and three redheaded boys were scarfing down sausages at the other. A woman Morrighan didn't recognize but assumed was Tonks was leaning against the counter with her nose in a newspaper. Molly was at the stove, making more sausages.
"Wotcher," said Tonks brightly as Hermione and Morrighan entered. "Albus explained everything, told me exactly what we need to get you, and said the money's been taken care of."
"Bill's been instructed to give you a sizable amount of gold from my vault," said Sirius with a warm smile. "You spend as much gold as you like, and if you run out, Bill can get you more."
Morrighan could hardly believe it. She hadn't been poor in her own world, but with so many kids, three of them in college, her family had been watching their pennies for quite some time. Even when they had been freer with their money, she had never been able to spend as much as she wanted. She smiled at him shyly, unsure of what to say, and she took a seat beside one of the twins, who immediately pushed the sausage and eggs toward her before offering his hand.
"George," he said brightly.
"Morrighan," she replied as she took his hand and shook it firmly. The other redheaded boys introduced themselves as Fred and Ron as she quickly served herself eggs and sausage. She and Hermione ate swiftly, said their goodbyes, and followed Tonks out onto the street. They walked to Diagon Alley, which surprisingly wasn't far, and Tonks led the other girls up the marvelous street to the large, white marble building that Morrighan knew was Gringotts. They had barely gotten inside when they were assailed by yet another redhead, this one not bothering to introduce himself, but merely handing Tonks a large money bag and saying a quick hello before returning to work.
"First things first," said Tonks. "We need to get you a bag that can call all your things. There may be three of us, but that list isn't short."
She wasn't kidding. Once they bought a bag with an undetectable extension charm, they proceeded to buy six sets of everyday robes (two black and four in various shades of blue and purple), thirty-six books (all of which were deemed necessary by Hermione after reviewing the list of subjects Morrighan would cover), a cauldron, potions ingredients, a telescope, various things Hermione insisted Morrighan would need for Potions, and lastly, a wand (ebony and dragon heartstring, nine-and-a-half inches).
As they sat in front of Florean Fortescue's and ate the strawberry ice cream Tonks had purchased for them while Hermione and Morrighan changed the rest of the half-empty moneybag to Muggle money, Morrighan turned the wand over in her hands reverently.
"Feels wonderful, doesn't it?" Hermione said with a kind smile.
She, of course, knew what it felt like to be told she could do magic after years of thinking it didn't exist. It was surreal, all of it, and Morrighan didn't fully understand what had occurred until Ollivander put the ebony wand in her hand. She couldn't explain it.
"Fourteen outfits and basic necessities is what Albus has down for Muggle London," said Tonks, eyeing the instructions she had been given. "Once we know your sizing and such we can always get you more, but he doesn't want you leaving headquarters, considering your circumstances. Right. To the mall!"
If Morrighan thought Tonks had gone overboard in the Wizarding shops, it was nothing on the Muggle ones. After Tonks helped her pick out fourteen sets of "fun" underwear (on Tonks's orders; Morrighan had never owned "fun" underwear before) and bras, they bought her fourteen outfits, five pairs of shoes, various hair products, hair elastics, a flat-iron (which Tonks said was a task better not attempted with a wand), necessary make-up, some less-than necessary make-up, shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, cleanser, deodorant, lotion, and tampons. Finally, Tonks declared them finished, although they hadn't spent all the money. Morrighan suspected that Tonks just didn't want to be late for meeting up to get Harry.
The Order meeting was underway when they arrived back. Dumbledore must have explained Morrighan's situation, because although the Order members gave her curious and interested looks, they didn't seem surprised to see her. Sirius even smiled at her and pulled out the chair beside him for her. Within minutes, Tonks left with the rest of the Advance Guard to pick up Harry Potter from Privet Drive.
"Did you spend all the money, love?" Sirius whispered into Morrighan's ear as Dumbledore left, allowing Arthur to take over the particulars of the meeting. The feel of his breath on her ear, tickling the sensitive skin, very nearly made Morrighan shudder. It felt too good to be allowed. She was puzzled by the extremity of the sensation.
She shook her head and hissed, "Tonks tried, but she ran out of ideas."
He chuckled lowly and breathed, "I thought she might have a good go of that. You do look spectacular."
She murmured her thanks and felt the blush creeping into her cheeks. Sure, he was much older than her, but he wasn't quite old enough to be her father…. He was also incredibly beautiful, despite the years spent wasting away in Azkaban. He clearly had been taking better care of himself since Voldemort's return, working out, perhaps, eating plenty, bathing regularly…. The thought of him in warm, soapy tub crossed Morrighan's mind and she bit her lip to hold in the sigh that threatened to betray the nature of her thoughts. She was in a meeting. That just wouldn't do.
"Miss Capilla," said Arthur gently, "in your book, does You-Know-Who acquire the prophecy?"
"No," she said, feeling a little uncomfortable about all of the eyes being on her. "But in the movie…"
Sirius barked with laughter at her pathetic attempt at a joke, but the others around the table didn't seem to understand. Well, Snape seemed to understand, but his expression did not change: he had been looking at her with icy indifference since Arthur Weasley had addressed her.
"It's okay, I'm bad at making jokes in all dimensions, it seems like," she said awkwardly, looking down at her hands, but Sirius smirked and nudged her playfully with his elbow, shaking his head. He, at least, seemed to find her entertaining. That was probably a good thing, considering they had been sentenced to spending all of their free time in this house together.
The meeting went on for quite a while, mostly not pertaining to her. Occasionally they would ask her if they were on the right track, and she would tell them that, yes, everything they were talking about seemed to fit with the plot in which Voldemort was defeated. Finally, she could hear movement upstairs in the hall. Harry had arrived.
Unfortunately, Morrighan had to wait to catch a glimpse of him as the meeting went on for quite a while longer. When it finally ended and Snape had left Sirius, engaged Morrighan in a discussion about what cleaning there was to be done in the house. Suddenly, there was a crash on the floor above.
"Tonks!" shrieked Molly's voice from the stairs.
"I'm sorry!" Tonks wailed. "It's that stupid umbrella stand, that's the second time I've tripped over–"
And the screeching began not long after.
"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks: be gone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers–"
Sirius and Morrighan exchanged exasperated expressions before rushing up the stairs to help close the portrait of his crazed mother.
"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!" Sirius yelled as they rushed up and took either curtain, attempting to force them closed.
"Yoooou!" she wailed at him. "Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!"
"I said – shut – UP!" he roared back, and he and Morrighan managed to close the curtains with great effort. Morrighan had never imagined it would be so difficult to close simple velvet curtains. As the screams dissipated, Sirius panted and gave Morrighan a pat on the back. He swept a strand of his gleaming black hair out of his face as he turned to the young newcomers.
"Hello, Harry," he said grimly, "I see you've met my mother."
"Your–?"
Harry looked much as Morrighan had imagined him, what with his unruly black hair – a little shorter than she expected – and his bottle-green, almond shaped eyes. Tall, skinny, pale, if he hadn't had some muscle – from Quidditch, no doubt – Morrighan would have wondered why he would ever get a date. Not that he was unattractive, just that he was a bit…scrawny.
"His mother, yeah," Morrighan said with a smile. "We haven't met. My name is Morrighan Capilla."
"Yeah, hey," Harry said, shaking her hand distractedly. "Hermione told me about you; crazy story. What is a portrait of your mother doing here, Sirius?"
"Hasn't anyone told you? This was my parents' house," Sirius said. "But I'm the last Black left, so it's mine now. I offered it to Dumbledore for headquarters – it's where Morrighan and I will be hanging out while the rest of you are off leading interesting and important lives."
She had expected to hear bitterness in his voice, but it was full of amusement instead; he was making jokes. Perhaps the prospect of having a fellow prisoner in his least favorite house had alleviated some of his angst for the time being. She and Sirius led the way down to the kitchen.
Molly cleared her throat at Bill and Arthur, who were huddled at the end of the table, still going over building plans of the Ministry.
"Harry!" Arthur said, rushing forward to shake Harry's hand. "Good to see you!"
Bill began to gather up the building plans as he said, "Journey all right, Harry? Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, then?"
"He tried," Tonks said, hurrying forward to help Bill, but managing to knock a candle over right onto the last parchment. "Oh, no – sorry–"
"Here, dear," Molly said sharply, fixing the parchment and sticking the parchment into Bill's arms, admonishing him. "This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings."
Bill vanished the parchments.
"Sit down, Harry," Sirius said, beckoning Harry to settle at the kitchen table with Morrighan and other Order members. "You've met Mundungus, haven't you?"
"Some'n say m' name?" Mundungus muttered, jerking awake. "I 'gree with Sirius…"
Ginny giggled.
"The meeting's over," Morrighan said testily, not liking Mundungus very much from her first meeting him. He reeked, for one, and she knew he would be the cause of much pain in the time to come, just from his own cowardice and self-interest. "Harry's here, you lump."
"Eh?" Mundungus muttered, peering up at Harry. "Blimey, so 'e 'as. Yeah… you all right, 'arry?"
"Yeah," Harry said.
Mundungus began to fidget and prepare his rank pipe for smoking, grunting from behind the smoke, "Owe you a 'pology."
"For the last time, Mundungus," Molly cried, "will you please not smoke that thing in the kitchen, especially not when we're about to eat!"
"Ah. Right. Sorry, Molly."
The smoke vanished as the pipe was replaced in its spot in his coat.
"And if you want dinner before midnight I'll need a hand," Molly said to no one in particular. "No, you can stay where you are, Harry, you've had a long journey, and don't you think of getting up, Morrighan, dear, you must be exhausted–"
"What I can I do Molly?" Tonks said eagerly.
"Er – no, it's all right, Tonks, you have a rest too, you've done enough today–"
"No, no, I want to help!" Tonks cried, knocking over a chair as she went to help Ginny gather silverware.
Soon, only Morrighan, Sirius, Mundungus, and Harry were left at the table as the rest of the room busied themselves with dinner.
"Seen old Figgy since?" Mundungus asked Harry.
"No," Harry said almost bitterly, "I haven't seen anyone."
"See, I wouldn' 'ave left, but I 'ad a business opportunity–"
The ugliest ginger cat Morrighan had ever laid eyes on – possibly the ugliest cat in the world – bounded onto Sirius's lap, stretching his body out to cover both Sirius and Morrighan's laps, forcing them to move their chairs closer together so that Crookshanks didn't fall between them and cause a fuss. Sirius began to scratch Crookshanks behind the ears absently as he turned to Harry.
"Had a good summer so far?"
"No, it's been lousy," Harry said.
Morrighan watched Sirius grin a little and shook her head, exasperated. In spite of the fact that he would have company in his house, a purpose beyond cleaning the place he despised, he was still eager as ever for action, for battle.
"Sirius wishes he was you," she muttered. "He envies your little experience in the alleyway."
"What?" Harry said.
"A deadly struggle for my soul would have broken the monotony nicely," Sirius said with a little smirk. "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?"
"Because the Ministry'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, but I guess now I've got Morrighan to keep me company in my little personal hell, so we can have some fun."
"At least you know what's been going on," Harry muttered.
"Oh yeah," Sirius said sarcastically. "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–"
"What cleaning?"
"Making this place livable," Morrighan said, wincing as Crookshanks's bottlebrush tail flicked in her face. "It hasn't been lived in for quite a while, minus Kreacher, but he's not all there these days–"
"Sirius?" Mundungus said, peering closely at a goblet, his grubby fingers level prints as he turned it in his hand. "This solid silver, mate?"
"Yes," Sirius said bitterly. "Finest fifteenth century goblin-wrought silver, embossed with the Black family crest."
"That'd come off, though," Mundungus muttered.
"Fred – George – NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" Molly shrieked.
Morrighan, knowing what was coming, tackled Sirius to the ground as Harry and Mundungus flew away from the table moments later. A hot cauldron of stew skidded across the table, butterbeer splashed all over the floor, and a large bread knife landed point down right where Sirius's hand had been seconds before.
"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE! 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!"
"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" Fred said, rushing forward to extract the bread knife. "Sorry Sirius, mate, Morrighan – didn't mean to–"
Morrighan, Harry, and Sirius were all laughing. Sirius helped Morrighan to her feet, giving her a smile as she turned to the nervous looking Fred. Arthur put the stew where it had been intended to land.
He said, "Boys, your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now that you've come of age–"
" – none of your brothers caused this sort of trouble! Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't Charm everything he met! Percy–"
Though Morrighan hadn't been around for the problems with Percy, she knew exactly why Molly had frozen, why there was such awkwardness in the air around her. Percy was a piece of work.
"Let's eat," Bill said.
"It looks wonderful, Molly," Remus said while dishing up stew to those around him.
There was silence as the kitchen became instantly full of mouths that were full of stew. Morrighan had never been one for stew, but Molly knew how to make it with all the good things about stew, and none of the bad ones. It was truly one of the best things she had ever tasted.
Molly turned to Sirius.
"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 boggart, but I thought we ought to ask Alastor to have a look at it before we let it out."
"Whatever you like," Sirius said with an indifferent shrug, helping himself to more stew.
"The curtains are full of doxies too. I thought we might try and tackle them tomorrow."
"That sounds like a great idea, Molly," Morrighan said quickly. "That's something I can help with, right?"
"Oh, well, I suppose, dear," Molly said, taken aback. "If you'd really like to. It's not very exciting."
"No, I'd really like to help," Morrighan insisted. "I've never seen a doxy before."
Obviously.
Tonks was down the table, entertaining with her Metamorph abilities. What was catching Morrighan's attention, however, was a conversation occurring between Arthur, Bill, and Remus.
"They're not giving anything away yet," Bill said. "I still can't work out whether they believe he's back or not. 'Course they might prefer not to take sides at all. Keep out of it."
"I'm sure they'd never got over to You-Know-Who," Arthur said solemnly. "They've suffered losses too. Remember that goblin family he murdered last time, somewhere near Nottingham?"
"I think it depends on what they're offered," Remus said. "And I'm not talking about gold; if they're offered freedoms we've been denying them for centuries they're going to be tempted. Have you still not had any luck with Ragnok, Bill?"
"He's feeling pretty anti-wizard at the moment," Bill said. "He hasn't stopped raging about the Bagman business, he reckons the Ministry did a cover-up, those goblins never go their gold from him, you know–"
Laughs erupted from where the twins, Ron, and Mundungus were that covered Bill's sentence.
"… and then," Mundungus said through his laughter, "and then, if you'll believe it, 'e says to me, 'e says, ''ere, Dung, where didja get all them toads from? 'Cos some son of a Bludger's gone and nicked all mine!' And I says 'Nicked all your toads, Will, what next? So you'll be wanting some more, then?' And if you'll believe me, lads, the gormless gargoyle buys all 'is own toads back orf me for twice what 'e paid in the first place–"
"I don't think we need to hear any more of your business dealings, thank you very much, Mundungus," Molly said sharply.
"Beg pardon, Molly. But really, you know, Will nicked 'em orf Warty Harris in the first place so I wasn't really doing nothing wrong–"
"I don't know where you learned about right and wrong, Mundungus, but you seem to have missed a few crucial lessons," Molly said coldly.
Fred and George took long drinks of butterbeer; George was hiccupping and Fred winked at Morrighan, who noticed that her cheeks got curiously flushed when he did so. Molly threw a dirty look at Sirius as she got up to get dessert.
"Molly doesn't approve of Mundungus," Sirius muttered to Harry across Morrighan.
"How come he's in the Order?" Harry whispered back.
"He's useful," Sirius said softly. "Knows all the crooks – well, he would, seeing as he's one himself. But he's also very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out of a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around; he hears things we don't. But Molly thinks inviting him to stay for dinner is going too far. She hasn't forgiven him for slipping off duty when he was supposed to be tailing you."
When the rhubarb crumble and custard was all consumed and everyone was lulled into contented, over-stuffed quiet, Molly yawned, "Nearly time for bed, I think."
"Not just yet, Molly," Sirius said, pushing away his plate and looking at Harry, scooting closer to Morrighan in the process. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking question about Voldemort."
There were no lazy faces around the table now. Everyone's faces were sharp with anticipation, and Remus narrowed his eyes at Sirius, as if trying to communicate without speaking.
"I did!" Harry cried. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so–"
"And they're quite right," Molly said sharply. "You're too young."
"Maybe I'm new, but it seems to me that doesn't mean he can't ask," Morrighan said softly, earning her an approving smile from Sirius. "I mean, he's been stuck with those Muggles for a month. I think he has a right to ask…"
"Hang on!" George cried.
"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" Fred said.
"We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!" George said.
"'You're too young, you're not in the Order,'" Fred said, mimicking his mother's voice quite well. "Harry's not even of age!"
"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing," Sirius said. "That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand–"
"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" Molly said sternly. Her face was dangerous and angry, and Morrighan found herself a little frightened. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"
"Which bit?" Sirius said politely, but Morrighan could feel him tensing beside her.
"The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know," Molly said.
"I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly. But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back he has more right than most to–"
"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix! He's only fifteen and–"
" – and he's dealt with as much as anyone at this table," Morrighan said softly, "and more than I have, certainly–"
"No one's denying what he's done, dear!" Molly said indignantly. "But he's still–"
"He's not a child!" Sirius said.
"He's not an adult, either!" Molly said. "He's not James, Sirius!"
"I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly," Sirius said.
"I'm not sure you are!" Molly said. "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?" Harry said.
"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!" Molly said, not taking her eyes from Sirius. "You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"
"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" Sirius demanded.
"Meaning you've been known to act rashly, Sirius which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and–"
"Please, leave Dumbledore's instructions out of this," Morrighan said firmly, putting her hand on Sirius's arm as he tensed.
"Arthur!" Molly cried, turning to her husband. "Arthur, back me up!"
Arthur delayed his answer, cleaning his glasses, not looking at his wife. Then he said, "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," Remus said softly, turning away from Sirius and looking at Molly, who was regarding him with desperation, "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."
Morrighan smirked slightly, catching Fred's eye as she thought of the Extendable Ears she knew they had developed. He smirked back unabashedly.
"Well," Molly said, "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–"
"He's not your son," Sirius said softly.
"He's as good as," Molly said harshly. "Who else has he got?"
"He's got me!"
"Yes. 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, freezing when Morrighan squeezed his arm tightly.
"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," Remus said. "Sirius, sit down."
Sirius slowly sank back into his chair. Morrighan made to remove her hand, but to her surprise, his other hand covered it and held it tightly to his arm, as if asking her to continue to restrain him, to keep him calm.
"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this," Remus said. "He's old enough to decide for himself."
"I want to know what's been going on," Harry said quickly and eagerly.
"Very well," Molly said, her voice weak and upset. "Ginny – Ron – Hermione – Fred – George – I want you out of this kitchen, now."
"We're of age!" Fred and George cried.
"If Harry's allowed, why can't I?" Ron protested.
"Mum, I want to!" Ginny wailed.
"NO!" Molly shouted. "I absolutely forbid–"
"Molly, you can't stop Fred and George," Arthur said reasonably. "They are of age–"
"They're still at school–"
"But they're legally adults now," Arthur said, tired.
"I – oh, all right then, Fred and George can stay, but Ron–"
"Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you can say anyway!" Ron said. "Won't – won't you?"
"'Course I will," Harry said.
"Fine!" Molly shouted. "Fine! Ginny – BED!"
Ginny kicked, screamed, and pouted her way all the way out the door and up the stairs and Mrs. Black's portrait began to shriek. Remus got up and silenced it. When he returned, Sirius broke the awkwardness.
"Okay, Harry…what do you want to know?"
"Where's Voldemort? What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the Muggle news, and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything–"
"That's because there haven't been any suspicious deaths yet, not as far as we know, anyway… And we know quite a lot."
"More than he thinks we do, anyway," Remus added.
"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry asked.
"Because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself," Morrighan said softly. "Fudge is conveniently ignoring his return, which he managed to mess up. It wouldn't be safe for him to come out now."
"Or rather, you messed it up for him," Remus said with a smile.
"How?" Harry asked.
"You weren't supposed to survive!" Sirius said. "Nobody apart from his Death Eaters was supposed to know he'd come back. But you survived to bear witness."
"And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore," Remus added. "And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once."
"How has that helped?" Harry asked.
"Are you kidding?" Bill laughed. "Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever scared of!"
"Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix about an hour after Voldemort returned," Sirius said.
"So what's the Order been doing?" Harry said.
"Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans," Sirius said.
"How d'you know what his plans are?" Harry asked.
"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," Remus said, "and Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate."
"So what does Dumbledore reckon he's planning?"
"Well, he's rebuilding his army," Morrighan said softly, drawing attention to herself and looking down at her hands as she spoke. "Not just his Death Eaters, but those who are forced by fear or magic into following him, and Dark creatures, of course. You heard about the giants from Hagrid, but that's far from all. You've seen what's left of the Death Eaters, there's no taking anything over with that small of a group."
"So you're trying to stop him getting more followers?"
"We're doing our best," Remus said.
"How?"
"Well, the main thing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard," Bill said. "It's proving tricky, though."
"Why?"
"Because of the Ministry's attitude," Tonks said. "You saw Cornelius Fudge after You-Know-Who came back, Harry. Well, he hasn't shifted his position at all. He's absolutely refusing to believe it's happened."
"But why?" Harry said. "Why's he being so stupid? If Dumbledore–"
"Ah, well, you've put your finger on the problem," Arthur said. "Dumbledore."
"Fudge is frightened of him, you see," Tonks said.
"Frightened of Dumbledore?" Harry asked.
"Frightened of what he's up to," Arthur said. "You see, Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him. He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic."
"But Dumbledore doesn't want–"
"Of course he doesn't," Arthur agreed. "He's never wanted the Minister's job, even though a lot of people wanted him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired. Fudge came to power instead, but he's never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even though Dumbledore never applied for the job."
"Deep down, Fudge knows Dumbledore's much cleverer than he is, a much more powerful wizard, and in the early days of his Ministry he was forever asking Dumbledore for help and advice," Remus said. "But it seems that he's become fond of power now, and much more confidant. He loves being Minister of Magic, and he's managed to convince himself that he's the clever one and Dumbledore's simply stirring up trouble for the sake of it."
"How can he think that?" Harry cried. "How can he think Dumbledore would just make it all up – that I'd make it all up?"
"Because accepting Voldemort's back would mean trouble like the Ministry hasn't had to cope with for nearly fourteen years," Sirius spat. "Fudge just can't bring himself to face it. It's so much more comfortable to convince himself Dumbledore's lying to destabilize him."
"You see the problem," Remus said. "While the Ministry insists there is nothing to fear from Voldemort, it's hard to convince people he's back, especially as they really don't want to believe it in the first place. What's more, the Ministry's leaning heavily on the Daily Prophet not to report any of what they're calling Dumbledore's rumor-mongering, so most of the Wizarding community are completely unaware anything's happened, and that makes them easy targets for the Death Eaters if they're using the Imperius Curse."
"But you're telling people, aren't you?" Harry said, looking around at the Order Members at the table. "You're letting people know he's back?"
They all smiled sadly at each other.
"Well, as Sirius is supposed to be a crazed mass murderer and the Ministry's got a massive price on his head, and I'm not even supposed to exist," Morrighan drawled humorlessly, "we can't even leave the house, much less start a campaign of truth."
"And I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community," Remus said. "It's an occupational hazard of being a werewolf."
"Tonks and Arthur would lose their jobs at the Ministry if they started shooting their mouths off," Sirius said, "and it's very important for us to have spies inside the Ministry, because you can bet Voldemort will have them."
"We've managed to convince a couple of people, though," Arthur said. "Tonks here, for one – she's too young to have been in the Order of the Phoenix last time, and having Aurors on our side is a huge advantage – Kingsley Shacklebolt's been a real asset too. He's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet."
"But if none of you's putting the news out that Voldemort's back–" Harry began.
"Who said none of us was putting the news out?" Sirius said, amused. "Why d'you think Dumbledore's in so much trouble?"
"What d'you mean?"
"They're trying to discredit him," Remus said. "Didn't you see the Daily Prophet last week? They reported that he'd been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards because he's getting old and losing his grip, but it's not true, he was voted out by Ministry Wizards after he made a speech announcing Voldemort's return. They've demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot – that's the Wizarding High Court – and they're talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class, too."
"But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog cards," Bill said, grinning.
"It's no laughing matter," Arthur said sharply. "If he carries on defying the Ministry like this, he could end up in Azkaban and the last thing we want is Dumbledore locked up. While You-Know-Who knows Dumbledore's out there and wise to what he's up to, he's going to go cautiously for a while. If Dumbledore's out of the way – well, You-Know-Who will have a clear field."
"But if Voldemort's trying to recruit more Death Eaters, it's bound to get out that he's come back, isn't it?" Harry asked.
"Voldemort doesn't march up to people's houses and bang on their front doors, Harry," Sirius said. "He tricks, jinxes, and blackmails them. He's well practiced at operating in secrecy. In any case, gathering followers is only one thing he's interested in, he's got other plans too, plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed, and he's concentrating on them at the moment."
"What's he after apart from followers?" Harry asked swiftly.
Sirius and Remus exchanged the most fleeting of looks before Morrighan whispered, "Stuff he can only get by stealth."
Sirius tensed beside her, clearly surprised that she said what he had been thinking, but she remembered that he had said it in the book. Harry, however, continued to look confused and Sirius said, "Like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time."
"When he was powerful before?"
"Yes."
"Like what kind of weapon?" Harry said. "Something worse than the Avada Kedavra–?"
"That's enough."
Molly was back, standing in the doorway with her sternest face on. She looked ready to spit fire and Morrighan was instantly reminded of her own mother when she went too far.
"I want you in bed, now. All of you," she added, looking around at Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione. "I've got a new room cleaned up for you, Morrighan, so you can have some privacy."
"You can't boss us–" Fred began.
"Watch me," Molly hissed. "You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straightaway."
"Why not?" Harry breathed. "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight–"
"No," Remus said sternly. "The Order is comprised only of overage wizards. Wizards who have left school," he added, frowning at Fred and George. "There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you… I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough."
Sirius conceded. The children were ushered to bed by Molly. Morrighan watched them leave before bidding everyone goodnight and wandering up to the room Molly had made up for her, down the hall from the twins. Her eyelids were heavy as she closed the door behind her, breathing in the slightly musty room that was hers, for now.