Monday morning came as a splendid augur for those inclined to believe in such things. The sky, which had been clouded ever since the battle, was of a spotless light blue and the sun was at last beginning to show why it was called the avenging orb. Its rays invaded the houses through the windows giving the rooms a bright new shade. It was the day, the day they were to join the Order of the Phoenix.

Ariadne woke up with the sensation of the first suns' rays of the morning warmly bathing her face. She stretched lazily and tucked herself into the sheets a little bit more before deftly opening her eyes and taking in her surroundings. The bed and linens were clean, as was the mahogany desk, its matching chair, chest of drawer and wardrobe. But the vast shelves full of tomes, boxes and various devices and containers that nearly covered one of the walls had a thick layer of dust. Possibly one of the previous owner's orders. Or a precaution. Few of the things over there seem innocuous... I probably should ask for help before I try to touch anything on that shelf.

It was the first night she had slept in her new bedroom, which was one of the rooms in which the sun could seldom act as a natural alarm clock, being the one it reached first. Since she moved to that house from the orphanage at the end of her sixth year at Hogwarts, she had slept in one of the first floor rooms, gifted with higher ceilings and wider windows. But at the new distribution of the rooms, she had chosen this one specifically in spite of her friend's grimaces – it was Regulus' old bedroom after all – because of its obvious advantages, even though they refuse to acknowledge them.

Although the bedroom wasn't much bigger than the ones downstairs, taking into account that downstairs they used to have two beds per bedroom, it had its own bathroom - even though the actual bath was tiny compared to the one of the first floor – and a little balcony. Yes, it was true at the moment it did look a bit creepy with the flaking dark grey-green walls and the noticeable trace of its previous owner… but she was resolute to make the room hers.

After her parents' murder by the remaining Death Eaters ten months after the first demise of the Dark Lord, she was adopted by her maternal grandmother, a muggle, as her mother was one of them too, with whom she had lived until her death when Ariadne was four. she had then had to be transferred to the orphanage, since her paternal family, being proud purebloods, had repudiated her father because he was a 'blood traitor'. Bunch of stiff fools, caged within their stupid prejudices, she thought angrily. And it had truly been all for naught because with the imprisonment for life of her remaining relatives at the end of the war, all their goods had fallen upon her, including a small cottage in the Highlands and some properties in Ireland, where her paternal family came from.

However, having Harry's offer – more like a request, she smiled to herself - to stay in Grimmauld Place and live all together at least for a year, she wasn't in a hurry to move to any of them; for the first time she fell she belonged to a family of sorts and felt at home in this place. In spite of that, it would be prudent for her to be aware of the state of her properties, so with a last lazy stretch she jumped up from the mahogany bed and took some jeans, an ample white blouse and a fine robe from one of her boxes – she hadn't unpacked yet, tonight was just proof she was perfectly able to sleep in the room despite her friends' omens - before directing her steps towards the first-floor bathroom; she truly wasn't about trying to use a toilet that hadn't been used for decades without precautions!

The kitchen was empty while she had breakfast - the inhabitants of the house weren't awake yet – so she washed her bowl manually while humming merrily to herself. But then her expression clouded with uncertainty; she didn't want to upset her friends, but it was time to start moving again, they were wizards after all, magic was their nature. With a sure movement of her wand, she summoned a sheet of parchment and a feather revelling in the swirl of magic that transpired from her body, wrote a brief note to her friends assuring them of her survival of the night in the bedroom, and with another flick, let the scroll hanging in the air with a magical red glow on it to be promptly noticed. It is definitely the time to make them react.

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After a brief visit followed by an argument with her family's solicitor, who was reticent to let her check all the figures of incomings and outgoings from the properties, she left with more than 15 volumes of data about the family's affairs shrunken in her bag and three directions, two from Ireland and one from Scotland – he claimed to not have photographs from any of the houses. She had been seriously tempted at that point to put her Legilimency to good use, but had opted instead for a veiled threat about his possible demise as administrator, and things had gone smoothly ever since… he even offered to side-along her to the cottage in the Highlands.

They apparated to a small, rocky cliff, the powerful wind making her wish she had taken a more effective coat. The sea looked impressive from her perspective; the furious waves smashing against the rocks with thundering strength while some of the sun rays slipping though the thick grey clouds gave an ethereal glow to the whole scene. She was so awed at the image for a moment, that when she eventually turned around, she realised her solicitor was no longer in sight. She then had the first view of her propriety. The rocky and deserted terrain, covered with dark green moss, rose unevenly around a neglected path that ended in front of an equally neglected-looking stony cottage. So that's why he consented in bringing me here… He thought I would be discouraged from my purpose if I found the properties lacking. She snorted. Pillock! Well, what he couldn't figure is just how having lived most of one's life in an orphanage instead of being pampered in luxury mansions could change one's views about possession. And certainly the welcome picture had been most becoming… She squared her shoulders and directed her steps towards said building, arriving promptly and with decisiveness; she cast a ward-revealing spell.

For being owned by a pureblood family, the cottage showed to be ridiculously bad protected. Only a couple of muggle-repelling wards and a common anti-burglary shield, however strong, were all what protected the old building. Better for me. Ariadne thought while deactivating the protections. After a second positive check, she breathed deeply and pushed the heavy wooden door, which opened creaking.

"Lumos"

The revealed room surprised Ariadne. In spite of the outward appearance, the inside of the cottage was… 'cosy'. There wasn't another word for it. The walls of the room she was in were covered with dark red, heavy curtains, light cherry tree wood shelves with books and photographs and a big tapestry, hopefully with an anti-fire charm on it, as it was on the left of a huge fireplace. On its right, a cherry tree wooden door was half open, showing a glimpse of what seemed to be the kitchen, with the burners and a small table with four chairs. On her right a narrow wooden spiral staircase indicated there were both an upper floor and a basement. A massive sofa of the same colour as the curtains over a thick carpet completed the sight.

She opened the windows and let the air erase the dusty smell of the furniture and mounted the stairs…which in turn started moving themselves, causing her to squeak, then smile embarrassed, suddenly glad that there wasn't anyone else with her. It was true she was a joker, she had a good sense of humour (one couldn't be less than humorous, having been a close friend of the Weasley twins!) and wasn't afraid of making fun of herself on purpose… but she was terrified of being truly considered unworthy or worse... weak. That's why even thought she tried and liked being playful with her close friends, although she also had reflective periods, outside her close circle she was more of a quiet and formal person, being all business when necessary.

When the stairs finally reached the hall on the upper floor, she had already warmed considerably towards the house, and excitedly wanted to explore the rest of it. It turned out that the cottage had three bedrooms and a bathroom, equally agreeable though it was certain they hadn't been inhabited for years as the furniture were nearly empty. The basement however was more occupied. Cauldrons, cupboards, various artefacts and even a pair of brooms were pilled against the walls; pieces of cloth and a myriad of dried plants hung from the ceiling, covered with cobwebs. Well, I suppose I don't have to organise everything today, do I? she thought stepping onto the stairs again – which seemed to sense whether the person wanted to rise or descend. And I'd better be careful with this house, because for being so scarcely warded, the stairs are a complex piece of work…

After about five or six hours checking carefully and cleaning each of the rooms of the upper floors, a tired but satisfied Ariadne got ready to cast her own concealment spells and protective wards. She stood in the middle of the living room, closed her eyes and focused on her magical signature, feeling the magic whirl inside and around her body to finally release it in a powerful enchantment, which bonded her with the house and would bend it to her will, while she wished to. It was an ancient spell, mostly unused at the time, as it was in the uncertain terrain between the magic of "Light" and what was considered the Dark Arts, but was also one of the charms that linked the Headmaster of Hogwarts to the Castle.

Ariadne didn't care for the common division of magic, in which some kind of spells and protective charms fell into dark magic just because they were relatively ancient or unknown; what is permissible for Hogwarts Headmaster should be also permissible for her. If she had learnt something from this war, it was that the world wasn't just black or white; she understood the necessity of certain actions, even if they are still wrong, for the sake of the greater good. Yes, she certainly believed some errors were necessary, and that was the main thing that kept her faith in the Headmaster. Though she had to admit, she was unsure about how to establish the limits of what was permissible and what was not. And that disturbed her deeply.

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"At last!" boomed Molly Weasley's voice when she entered the kitchen past four in the afternoon.

Ariadne flinched internally, but remained outwardly calm. Molly Weasley had practically adopted her, Harry and Hermione into her family for a few years. They, in turn, loved the woman as family but her worry for them had increased exponentially since the loss of Percy.

"Good afternoon, Molly," she greeted with a polite smile.

She wanted to make a point to the woman, who insisted in treating them as children she had to look after. It wasn't Ariadne's intention to make her feel out of place, but to be aware of the new order of things; they were adults and were about to start making their very own path.

Molly Weasley, apparently unsatisfied with her calm demeanour, as if nothing was amiss, put her hands on her hips and snorted. "'Good evening?' You disappear for the whole day without saying where are you going, and all you say is 'Good evening?'" Mrs. Weasley's shouts had alerted the other habitants of the house, who were – in Ginny and Harry's cases - poking their heads through the door with expressions of empathy.

"Molly, I'm no longer twelve and I haven't got to inform you of my whereabouts each and every time I go out," she said reasonably but firmly. "If you want to know, I have been seeing my family solicitor and arranging one of my proprieties."

"But… why have you done it alone? You should have told Arthur and he would have accompanied you to talk with the solicitor. You should have left it to him because he knows how to handle such…"

"I know how to handle such things, Molly. Although I appreciate your offer." She cut in, leaving a gobsmacked Molly Weasley. "I know I can count on Arthur and you but as I have already told you, I'm no longer twelve, Molly." She ended softly, trying to smooth the quick hurt look that passed through the older woman features.

But it seemed too late. Molly Weasley composed her expression and without another word turned swiftly towards the kitchen. Ariadne sighed and looked warily towards her friends. Ginny gave her a look and ran after her mother. Ron was dead serious, as was Harry, who climbed the stairs murderously, while Hermione seemed uncomfortable.

"Look, guys… I reckon maybe I've been too hard but… I think it's time for her to react, to realise we are no longer children to be pampered, no longer her obligation. Ron, believe me I didn't want to hurt her but.."

"I know. I understand." He nodded gravely. "She will come to terms with it, I'm sure. It's just... I think this is her way of dealing with the situation."

Ariadne nodded once and sighed while Ron exited the room after Harry. After a pregnant pause, Hermione redirected her attention.

"Ari, you should go and prepare yourself. Tonight we're joining the Order. The meeting is scheduled at eight"

"I know... Hermione, I messed it up, didn't I? I truly didn't want to distress her..."

"Don't worry too much, Ari. I think you could have been more sensitive about it but you have made a point which needed to be made. It really was starting to wear me down, all that mollycoddling," Hermione assured her but then bit her lip. "Just try to talk to Harry. You've seen how he reacted."

Ariadne nodded gravely, cursing her lack of subtlety. She was supposed to be half Slytherin, so where was that Slytherin subtlety when it was needed? Then, Hermione seemed to perk up, took Ariadne's arm and dragged her towards the stairs,

"So tell me... how was your first night in the bedroom? And your house? How is it? Where is it? I can't believe I already have two friends with their own house..."

Ariadne let a small smile reach her eyes although she wasn't at all fooled by her obvious attempt to cheer her up and started telling her all about her horrid solicitor.

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Later that afternoon, after a shower and a change from muggle clothes into robes, she sought Harry to try to make amends and found him in the Master's bedroom. He was placing the robe on the bed he was wearing to the meeting, when she opened the door, which was ajar. The closed look that set in his face told Ariadne all she needed to know about his friend's mood towards her. She sighed.

"Harry... can I speak with you for a moment?"

"You can speak all you want," he said with all the indifference he could muster.

"You know what I mean... will you listen to me? Please?" she said with a hopeful edge to her voice. It was his turn to sigh.

"Look, Ari, I understand your position but... honestly, after all they - she has done for us and what she's going through, I think what you did was downright mean," he said, eventually locking eyes with her.

"I know I should have been less brusque..."

"You shouldn't have been brusque at all." He corrected.

"You're right; I shouldn't have been brusque at all... but I had to say something. I was starting to feel overwhelmed. I needed to breathe. I know, I know it's no excuse for talking that way..." She halted Harry, who started to talk. "But even if my words weren't the most appropriate, I think she needed to know it." She ended with finality and watched Harry with mixed feelings of sadness, wariness and resolve.

He, in turn, gazed at her for a while before running a hand through his hair and flopping down on the bed.

"Maybe you're right, but you have to realise she worries about you. And now more than ever, with Percy and Fred dead and Ron entering the Order with us... I didn't like what you did. You hurt her, you know?"

"I do. Believe me I'm sorry for that," she said softly, and she meant it.

Molly had always treated her as a part of the family, especially ever since she discovered Ariadne was an orphan. Harry seemed to consider her response for a moment and then nodded slowly. Without another word, he stood up, went to her and held her tightly for a few moments, hearing her relieved exhalation.

Harry and Ariadne had always been close friends and confidents of each other because of their rare affinity and ability to understand each other, even if they sometimes had opposite points of view. Although Hermione and Ginny were her official board of confidents, there were things she only was able to talk with Harry.

"Let's talk no more about it, alright?"

She nodded emphatically, making him chuckle before growing serious again."But I think you should apologise to her or something"

"I will find her now. You'd better put your clothes on," she said eyeing pointedly the robes on the bed "dinner is in fifteen minutes and I don't think you will have spare time afterwards to change."

"Don't worry; I'll be downstairs on time." He rolled his eyes comically while Ariadne huffed.

"See you in the kitchen," she said smiling while closing the door.

He stared at the door for a few seconds, lost in thought before shaking his head and picking his clothes. Even though the pressure of having to hunt Horcruxes and kill Voldemort had been lifted and they were noticeably more relaxed than in previous months, they all were going through a rough time. They felt that the atmosphere in the house – which they hadn't left since they'd been released from St Mungo's - was somehow fragile, and for weeks they had been extremely polite with each other, figuratively tiptoeing around each other to avoid hurting such tender feelings. They had been slightly alarmed at seeing her floating note that morning, and it had shocked him to realise how that simple display of magic – previously common – had felt so foreign for a moment. Harry sighed heavily once more. Maybe she was right after all. Maybe it was time to react.

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Meanwhile Ariadne had gone down the steps towards the kitchen - where Molly was likely to be cooking dinner - one by one. Upon hearing the expected sounds of pots and dishes being moved, she squared her shoulders and pushed the door open.

"Molly?"

The woman seemed to freeze for a second, and then started washing again as if nothing was amiss.

"Yes?"

"I wanted to say... I'm sorry about the way I talked to you earlier. I was rude."

"Oh, don't worry about that. It was none of my business; after all I'm not your mother, not even a relative," she said without turning and with a too-much light tone that broke in the end. Ariadne then approached her and put a hand over her right shoulder to turn her around slowly. That made possible for Ariadne to see a tear falling on her cheek.

"Molly..." she said quietly, "you know you and Arthur have been more like parents to me than anyone else in my life. It is just... that I feel that I have to follow my own path and there are some things I need to do alone." Ariadne's eyes began to water while the older woman was weeping softly.

"I know all of you are of age, and I know you are capable to go out on your own... but I'm scared. You are now joining the Order, putting yourselves in danger again..." She started to shake and Ariadne embraced her instinctively, feeling comforted herself.

"Shh. You aren't going to get rid of us that easily," Ariadne said with a slight tremor in her voice, as she was close to tears herself, making Molly chuckle slightly. It wasn't fair. Arthur and Molly of all people didn't deserve to lose two sons. "We will be careful. I promise," she whispered firmly.

After a few moments, the two women parted and as a further reassuring gesture they both, together, finished the dinner preparations.