Okay, this is the last chapter I have prewritten - although hopefully the fourth will be done soon. It's already longer than chapters 1 and 2 combined, but I can't seem to just end it.

Thanks to Kagirinai-Eternal, bug349 and Tzintzuntzintzan for reviewing.


"Come on, Hermione!"

Hermione Granger sighed at the insistent voice of her friend. "Just a minute Ronald!"

She looked around for her hairbrush, dragging it through her curly brown hair. You would think that he'd be able to go down for breakfast himself at fifteen… she thought.

Once she'd finished, she gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror before turning to the door.

"Finally!" Ron exclaimed dramatically. "I'm starving!"

"Well you could always go eat by yourself!" she snapped, although it held little anger.

"And have the whole Order glare at me when I interrupt their morning meeting?" Ron grimaced.

"Fine," she sighed. "I guess you have a point there."

He smiled and grabbed her arm. Pulling her behind him, he practically charged down the stairs. Along the way, the twins and Ginny joined them, and Hermione couldn't help but compare the noise they were making to a herd of stampeding elephants.

A flight of steps from the ground floor, they all stopped, and began to tiptoe. None of them wanted to wake up Mrs Black this early in the morning.

Ron grabbed the door handle and eased it open quietly. They all stepped into the kitchen, and George – or maybe Fred – shut the door behind them. They all let out a breath.

"Good morning, dears!" Mrs Weasley said.

"Mornin' mum," Ron said. "What's for break- wait, who's that?"

Hermione and the others followed his pointing finger, and their gaze rested on a boy sat at the table. He looked to be in his teens, although it was hard to tell where, and wore a blue hoodie. But what shocked Hermione most was his hair. Not only was it far messier than Harry's – a feat she had previously deemed impossible – but it was snow white in colour.

"Hi," he said, slightly nervously. "I'm Jack."

Hermione moved her gaze from his hair to his ice blue eyes.

Jack was more than slightly unnerved. He honestly hadn't expected there to be five teenagers in the house. One or two at most. And they just stared at him. The older girl (at least, he assumed she was older) seemed transfixed by his hair.

"Hi," he said, trying not to let his nerves show in his voice. "I'm Jack."

At least that meant she was staring at his hair anymore. But he figured this was worse. Now she was looking straight into his eyes. He looked to the side self-consciously, and she seemed to snap out of it.

"I'm Hermione. This," she gestured to the youngest boy beside her, with flaming hair and freckles, "is Ron. The two over there are Fred and George, the twins, and the girl is Ginny."

Jack looked at each of them as they were introduced. Judging by their red hair, they were Molly's children. But Hermione was a brunette, and she didn't seem to fit the family dynamic he could see in the others, so he figured she was a friend.

"Jack will be going to Hogwarts with you this year," Molly explained.

Hermione looked confused. "But he looks too old to be a first year."

"He'll actually be starting fifth year with you, Ron and Harry," Molly told her. "So I expect you all to take care of him."

Jack felt his cheeks turn blue again. He really wasn't used to being treated like a little kid, and wasn't sure he liked it that much.

Hermione nodded, and smiled at him. "Where did you go to school before then?"

"Um…" Jack tried to remember the school North had mentioned. "Salem Witches Institute."

"Really?" Hermione asked, surprised. "I thought that was an all-girls school."

"Nah," he said, he remembered North saying something about this. "It was when they set it up, but about ten years ago they started accepting boys as well. Lucky really, otherwise I'd have had to go really far away."

Hermione seemed curious, but thankfully Ron provided a distraction. "So what is for breakfast?"

"Just toast this morning," Molly told him. "I haven't had time to cook anything." She brought over a breadboard piled high with toast, and a butter dish next to it.

Jack looked at the pile sceptically. He knew there were five people eating, but that much food? His thoughts were quickly proved wrong when the three boys practically attacked the food. He couldn't believe how fast they were eating. The girls were more refined, but even they were consuming about four slices each.

"Jack, dear, don't you want any?" asked Molly.

"No thanks," he smiled. "I ate before we came here." Okay, that was a lie. But there was no way he was willingly going to eat hot food.

Molly opened her mouth to comment, but was cut off by a flash. An ethereal shape formed before her, some sort of bird, Jack guessed.

"Dementor attack," Jack jumped when Dumbledore's voice came from the bird, although its beak didn't move. "Expect Harry tonight."

The bird evaporated, the mist swirling upwards. There was a few seconds of silence, before the room exploded. Everyone began talking at once, while Jack watched on in silence. He wondered what a dementor was, and who Harry could be.

Wait a second, wasn't that the name of the kid I'm supposed to protect? Jack nearly slammed his head on the table. The kid had been attacked already?

"Okay, calm down," Molly told the children, who looked pretty panicked. Jack guessed these dementors must be pretty scary. "All of you go upstairs. Show Jack around. He'll be sharing with you and Harry." This last part was directed at Ron.

He nodded distractedly, and grabbed Ginny's arm. "Come on, Harry will be fine." Although his tone was gruff, Jack could tell he was comforting his sister – older brother's instinct, probably.

He followed Ron, Ginny and Hermione up the stairs, looking around him in slightly creeped-out wonder. The house was disturbing enough to be Pitch's lair. The thought had him subconsciously avoiding the shadows cast by the mounted… elf?... heads on the walls. Everything was covered in dust, and as he looked, the ornaments seemed to get more random. From elf heads they progressed to grandfather clocks, then rickety writing desks and framed letters in what looked to be blood. He shuddered. And here he thought these people were normal – well, maybe that was a lie, but he certainly didn't think they'd be as strange as this.

Ginny seemed to notice his staring. "We didn't decorate," she said, making him jump. "But there's some sort of charm so we can't take any of it down."

He nodded, slightly consoled that he wasn't sharing a house with people who beheaded giant elves (as the heads themselves were bigger than any of North's elves).

They reached a corridor a few floors up, and Ron led him to a door on the left. "This is our room," he told Jack.

Jack pushed open the door and looked around. There were two beds, which had been shoved closer together to allow room for a camp bed on the floor. The bed in the corner had its sheets piled up, and a small dent on the pillow, so Jack assumed it was Ron's.

"You can pick whichever you'd like," said Ron.

Jack looked at the comfy bed for a minute. It had been so long since he'd slept in an actual bed. He took a step towards it, then stopped. Judging by his reaction earlier, Ron was obviously Harry's friend, maybe best friend. It would be unfair – and awkward – to separate them with himself. He moved instead to the camp bed, before realising he had nothing to put down. All he owned was his staff, and there was no way he'd leave that on the bed.

"I'll take the camp bed," he told Ron, and was pleased to see the happiness on his face – evidently he was Harry's best friend. He was also relieved that Ron hadn't asked about his lack of belongings. He knew North was sending him some school equipment at some point, and other than that he didn't really need anything.

Ron shifted awkwardly, clearly at a loss for something to say.

Jack decided to relieve him. "So, about that tour…"

That afternoon, the tension in the kitchen was palpable. While Molly was cooking, the children and Sirius sat around the table. The other adults had all left at some point during the day to do… Well to do something. Jack couldn't tell what, even when reading between the magical jargon they all used. He had heard that Molly's husband was coming at some point in the evening, but couldn't be sure when. They all seemed more worried about Harry.

Jack wondered why the Man in the Moon had told him to protect the kid. After all, Harry Potter seemed to have plenty of people to look after him, far more than a lot of children in the world.

"Dinner's ready!" Molly proclaimed, trying to break the tension. One look at everyone else told Jack she'd failed in that. She set down a huge pot of steaming soup in the middle of the table. She spooned a large amount into each of eight bowls, and handed them to everyone.

Around him, everyone dug in. Jack, however, stared at his. How was he going to get out of eating it? Unless…

He looked around to make sure no one was watching, then grasped his staff and blew on the soup. Judging by the sudden lack of steam, he'd successfully cooled it. He took an experimental sip. Not quite frozen, but close enough.

He noticed Molly look up at the ancient clock over the stove. "Quickly! There's a meeting in ten minutes!" she hurried them up.

Jack quickly swallowed the rest of his soup, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in his throat at the warmth. The rest of the children were already standing, and once Jack finished Ron and Hermione led them to the boys' room. He sat on his camp bed as the other teenagers discussed Harry.

He drew pictures in frost absentmindedly under Harry's bed, where no one would notice them. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, but if the number of drawings were anything to go by, a good half hour.

He was interrupted by the sound of screaming from downstairs. Although it was quite muffled, his ears throbbed in sympathy for everyone in the kitchen.

Then there was the sound of people coming up the stairs, footsteps getting steadily louder. Looking over at Ron and Hermione, he could see they hadn't noticed. Then again, his hearing was more sensitive than that of a human – maybe not on Bunny's level, but still far superior to his roommates'.

The door was pushed open, and he looked up, but was unable to see anything before his view was obstructed by Hermione.

"Harry!"