Author: shyangell & MorningDawn
DISCLAIMER: All the fictional characters appearing in this fanfiction story are not mine, they're J.K. Rowling's; and they are being used with the only purpose of personal entertainment.
Chapter Nine – The Visitor
The meeting is long and boring; Sirius' mind isn't in it at all, but rather halfway across the country with the Advanced Guard. He is worried because they're not there yet, but considering Mad-Eye leads them it would be a wonder if they did arrive before midnight.
When the haphazard group that makes up the Advance Guard; Moody, Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley, Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline, Sturgis, and Hestia begins to fill the room, he feels himself relax almost imperceptibly. All the room seems to emit a collective sigh of respite.
And when the meeting goes on the present members of the Order of the Phoenix are actually paying attention once more.
::::::::::::::
Sirius watches the people fill out of the room. He himself gathers part of the papers that are close by and makes the trip upstairs to leave them somewhere safe and away from the curious eyes of the children. He passes before his mother's closed curtains while coming out of the kitchen and drops them over an old sofa in a living room at ground level. He leaves the task of seeing everyone out and closing the old front door, trying to seal magically all the locks and bolts, to Remus, Molly and Tonks.
He'll be joining the crowd in the kitchen and all the children as soon as he's done.
"Tonks!" he hears Mrs. Weasley cry in exasperation, as a loud bang resonates through the house. The voices of the conversation keep going louder and louder. He sighs to himself.
"I'm sorry!" wails Tonks, apparently she has tripped all over the troll leg stand. "It's that stupid umbrella stand, that's the second time I've tripped over…" The rest of her words are drowned by a horrible, ear-splitting, blood-curdling screech. His mother is awake again and the screaming coming from the hideous portrait is deafening. Sirius closes his eyes in consternation. He truly hates that abominable portrait with every fibre of his being.
"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers…" When the screams do not cease, but become even louder as they are joined by the rest of the gradually awakening portraits he swirls around and goes to join the mess in the entry hall.
Sirius comes charging out of the door, catching a small glimpse of Harry standing there with a stunned look, as Tonks apologises over and over again, dragging the huge, heavy troll's leg back off the floor and Mrs. Weasley goes on stunning all the other portraits with her wand;
"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!" he roars, seizing the curtain. His mother's face blanches.
"Yoooou!" she howls, her eyes popping at the sight of Sirius. "Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!"
"I said… shut…UP!" roars the tall man again, and with an enormous effort he and Lupin manage to force the curtains closed again. Her screeches die and an echoing silence falls over them. Panting slightly he sweeps his long dark hair out of his eyes, it having come out of its restrains in the struggle as it happens every time he has to rush down here. Sirius turns to face Harry.
"Hello, Harry" he says grimly "I see you've met my mother."
"Your mother?" asks Harry appearing surprised. Sirius smirks. It's good to see the boy again, and see that he is in fact in one piece. He has that way of looking at everything with big surprised eyes.
"My dear old mum, yeah" says Sirius quietly. "We've been trying to get her down for a month but we think she put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of the canvas. Let's get downstairs, quick, before they all wake up again."
"But what's a portrait of your mother doing here?" Harry asks, bewildered, as they go through the door from the hall that leads the way down to the kitchen, the others following close.
"Hasn't anyone told you? This was my parents' house" says Sirius. "But I was Black heir, so it's mine now. I offered it to Dumbledore for Headquarters, about the only useful thing I've been able to do." Sirius voice is hard and bitter. Harry him to the bottom of the steps, through a long corridor and door leading into the basement kitchen.
The room is still a mess; many chairs have been crammed into the room for the meeting and the long wooden table standing in the middle of them is littered with rolls of parchment, goblets and empty wine bottles. Mr. Weasley and Bill are talking quietly with their heads together at the end of the table. Mrs. Weasley clears her throat, and Arthur looks around and jumped to his feet to greet Harry.
"Journey all right, Harry?" he hears Bill call while he is trying to gather up twelve scrolls at once. "Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, then?"
"He tried" says Tonks, striding over to help Bill and managing to topple a candle on to the last piece of parchment. "Oh no, sorry!"
"Here, dear" says Mrs. Weasley exasperated, and she repairs the parchment with a wave of her wand. Mrs. Weasley quickly noticing Harry's interest in the parchment snatches the plan off the table and stuffs it into Bill's already overloaded arms. "This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings." she snaps.
Then she sweeps off to the dresser from which she starts unloading dinner plates. Bill takes out his wand, muttering 'Evanesco!' and the scrolls vanish.
"Sit down, Harry" Sirius says as he motions a chair. "You've met Mundungus, haven't you?" The man, dressed in drags and hunched over himself gives a prolonged, grunting snore, and then jerks awake.
"Some'n say m'name?" he mumbles sleepily. "I 'gree with Sirius…" He raises a very grubby hand in the air as though voting, his droopy, bloodshot eyes unfocused.
"The meeting's over, Dung," says Sirius amused, as they all sit down around the boy at the table. "Harry's arrived."
"Eh?" says Mundungus, peering balefully at Harry through his matted ginger hair. "Blimey, so 'e 'as. Yeah… you all right, 'Arry?"
"Yeah" Harry answers lamely. Mundungus fumbles nervously in his pockets, still staring at Harry, and pulls out a grimy black pipe. He sticks it in his mouth, ignites the end of it with his wand and takes a deep pull on it. Great billowing clouds of greenish smoke obscure him within seconds.
"Owe you a 'pology" grunts from the middle of the smelly cloud.
"For the last time, Mundungus," calls Mrs. Weasley, "will you please not smoke that thing in the kitchen, especially not when we're about to eat!"
"Ah" says Mundungus. "Right. Sorry, Molly." says as he stows his pipe back in his pocket.
Right then, a tall man with silky black hair that looks a lot like Sirius, enters the kitchen smoking what actually looks like a cigarette. A big cloud of smoke leaves his mouth and curls into the air. Sirius sighs.
"Regulus, Molly has just told Dung not to smoke in the kitchen and you come in smoking those." he says, sounding a bit more bothered by it than when Dung was smoking. "Besides, it does you no good. Half of the family has died from that disgusting internal rot1…" Regulus mutters something, but nonetheless puts it out.
"Happy Sir?" he says. He sits down and looking at Harry, the small build and the messy jet-black hair immediately familiar, he adds: "Is this mini-Potter?"
Sirius pays him no mind, he knows better than anyone that with Harry looking so much like James, Regulus knows perfectly well who he is; but he notices the way Harry is looking at his brother and squirming uncomfortably as his brother's unsettlingly light eyes bear into him.
"This is Regulus Black, Harry." says motioning to his brother and giving him a warning glance that Regulus seems to notice without seeing it, for he stops immediately.
"You two are related?" Harry asks surprised. And as the resemblance is uncanny, Regulus can't help but look heavenwards. As bright as his father. Although he doesn't say it out loud for obvious reasons. Sirius gives him a crooked grin.
"He is my brother, as nature would have it no other way."
"Really, don't mind me." says Regulus sarcasm staining his voice, and feeling no need to defer the children presence and not indulge in the hard-earned right to bite back at his brother. "Keep acting as if I'm not here, I really don't care."
"Oh, stop whining." says Sirius as he sits across him and next to Harry. Then Molly turns to the room, not looking very happy.
"If you want dinner before midnight I'll need a hand." Molly says, then turns to Harry. "No, you can stay where you are, Harry dear, you've had a long journey." and she motions Harry to seat back again.
"What can I do, Molly?" says Tonks enthusiastically, bounding forwards. Mrs. Weasley hesitates, looking apprehensive.
"Er, no, it's all right, Tonks, you have a rest too, you've done enough today."
"No, no, I want to help!" says Tonks brightly, knocking over a chair as she hurries towards the dresser, from which Ginny is collecting cutlery.
"Good God, don't let her help." mutters Regulus. "She's going to burn the house down." Sirius chuckles and shakes his head, but doesn't contradict him.
Soon, a series of heavy knives are chopping meat and vegetables of their own accord, supervised by Mr. Weasley, while she stirs a cauldron dangling over the fire and the others take out plates, more goblets and food from the pantry. Harry is left at the table with Sirius, his brother and Mundungus, who is still blinking at the boy mournfully.
"Seen old Figgy since?" asks the aforementioned.
"No" says Harry, "I haven't seen anyone."
"See, I wouldn't 'ave left," says Mundungus, leaning forward, a pleading note in his voice, "but I 'ad a business opportunity…" Regulus snorts loudly, on purpose, of course.
Harry starts as something brushes against his knees, only to realise it is Crookshanks, Hermione's bandy-legged ginger cat, wounds himself once around Harry's legs, purring, then jumps on to Sirius's lap and curls up while nuzzling his hand. Sirius scratches him absent-mindedly behind the ears as he turns, still grim-faced, to Harry.
"Had a good summer so far?" asks the grey-eyed man.
"No, it's been lousy," says Harry. Something like a grin flits across Sirius's face.
"Don't know what you're complaining about, myself." Regulus rolls his eyes, somehow he has the slight suspicion of what his brother is about to say.
"What?" said Harry incredulously.
"Personally, I'd have welcomed a Dementor attack. A deadly struggle for my soul would have broken the monotony nicely. 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?" asks Harry, frowning.
"Because the Ministry of Magic'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."
"Stop complaining, I've been stuck in here too for as long as you have." says Regulus without raising his eyes from the table. Harry looks surprised.
"Why?" Regulus sighs, but does take the effort of explaining.
"I look too much like him."
"Because seeing a walking, talking corpse in the middle of London wouldn't alert Voldemort's lackeys…" Sirius contradicts him, and Regulus blatantly ignores him. Of course none of the children do understand what Sirius means by corpse but their attention is somewhere else.
"At least you've known what's been going on." says Harry instead.
"Oh yes…" says Sirius 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?" asked Harry.
"Trying to make this place fit for human habitation," says Sirius, waving a hand around the kitchen. "No one's lived here for ten years, not since my dear mother died, and as Regulus killed the damned house elf…"
"I keep pleading that I did not kill him…" he says in an oddly calm way.
"You just gave him a little push, I know." says as he looks down at his brother, daring him to argue the point further at the moment. Hermione turns beet red, but by now the Blacks know better that paying her any mind when it comes to this.
"Sirius," says Mundungus, who does not appear to have been paying any attention to the conversation, but has been closely examining an empty goblet. "This solid silver, mate?"
"Yes," says Sirius, surveying it with distaste, and Regulus face hardens. "Finest fifteenth-century goblin-wrought silver, embossed with the Black family crest."
"That'd come off, though," mutters Mundungus, polishing it with his cuff. And that is it to Regulus.
"And there are twenty-seven of those" he says hissing as he places a hand on the cup Mundungus has been holding. "If I find one, just one missing, you are going to find out why they say Sirius is nice."
"Calm down, mate!" says Dung, sinking deeper in his seat. "Just curios'." the younger brother doesn't remove his hand, but keeps it hovering over the cup.
"Then stop apprising things." he pulls back. Mundungus squirms under the gaze of the younger of the Black brothers.
"He seems to be quite fond of the silverware." says Sirius to Harry, concerning his brother. "He took after mother in that."
Then Molly's piercing voice fills the room. "Fred… George… NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" Mrs. Weasley shrieks.
They look round and, within a split second, they have to dive away from the table. Fred and George have bewitched a large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of Butterbeer and a heavy wooden breadboard, complete with knife, to hurtle through the air towards them. The stew skids the length of the table and comes to a halt just before the end, leaving a long black burn on the wooden surface; the flagon of Butterbeer falls with a crash, spilling its contents everywhere and the bread knife slips off the board and lands, point down and quivering ominously, exactly where Sirius's right hand was seconds before.
"For heaven's sake!" screams Mrs. Weasley. "There is 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!" says Fred, hurrying forward to wrench the bread knife out of the table. "Sorry, Sirius, mate. Didn't mean to."
Harry and Sirius are both laughing; Mundungus has toppled backwards off his chair, and is swearing as he gets to his feet; Crookshanks gives an angry hiss and shoots off under the dresser, from where his large yellow eyes glow in the darkness; Regulus is chuckling, trying to suppress laugher, but restraining for Molly's sake and that of his own reputation.
"Boys," Mr. Weasley says, lifting the stew back into the middle of the table, "your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now you've come of age."
"None of your brothers…!" Sirius tunes off Molly's rant. And only hears her berate the twins in the background despite the loud volume. Somehow she stops her tirade and they start eating in silence. The silence lasts for a few minutes, only hearing the chink of plates and cutlery and the scraping of chairs as everyone settles down to their food. Then Mrs. Weasley turns to Sirius.
"I've been meaning to tell you, Sirius, there's something trapped in that writing desk in the drawing room, it keeps rattling and shaking. Of course, it could just be a Boggart, but I thought we ought to ask Alastor to have a look at it before we let it out." Regulus can't help but wonder why does she keeps trying if she knows as well as him that he won't listen to her, well, he certainly wouldn't. He also knows Sirius could deal with whatever it is by himself without problems, but that would mean being cooperative and acting as if he cared.
"Whatever you like," says Sirius indifferently.
"The curtains in there are full of Doxys, too." Mrs. Weasley goes on. "I thought we might try and tackle them tomorrow."
"I look forward to it." says Sirius, sarcasm all over his voice.
Opposite to them, Tonks is entertaining Hermione and Ginny by transforming her nose between mouthfuls. Screwing up her eyes each time with a pained expression, her nose swells to a beak-like protuberance that resembles Snape's, shrinks to the size of a button mushroom and then sprouted a great deal of hair from each nostril. Mr. Weasley, Bill and Lupin are having an intense discussion about goblins. The younger of the Blacks isn't exactly participating but he is obviously interested in the issue.
"They're not giving anything away yet," says Bill. "I still can't work out whether or not they believe he's back. Course, they might prefer not to take sides at all. Keep out of it."
"I'm sure they'd never go over to You-Know-Who," says Mr Weasley, shaking his head. "They've suffered losses too; remember that goblin family he murdered last time, somewhere near Nottingham?"
"I think it depends what they're offered," says Lupin. "And I'm not talking about gold. If they're offered the freedoms we've been denying them for centuries they're going to be tempted."
"They won't take sides, counting that both sides are wizards." says Regulus, Lupin nods at his words.
"Have you still not had any luck with Ragnok, Bill?"
"He's feeling pretty anti-wizard at the moment," says Bill, "he hasn't stopped raging about the Bagman business, he reckons the Ministry did a cover-up, those goblins never got their gold from him, you know."
A gale of laughter from the middle of the table drowns the rest of Bill's words. Fred, George, Ron and Mundungus are rolling around in their seats. Mundungus is explaining a joke stemming from one of his many dodgy business and the children are laughing. Molly invariably, feels the need to straighten things up.
"Beg pardon, Molly," says Mundungus at once, wiping his eyes and winking. "But, 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," says Mrs. Weasley coldly. Fred and George bury their faces in their goblets of Butterbeer; George is hiccoughing. For some reason, Mrs. Weasley throws a very nasty look at Sirius before getting to her feet and going to fetch a large rhubarb crumble for pudding. Harry looks curiously at Sirius.
"Molly doesn't approve of Mundungus," says Sirius in an undertone. "Well, neither does Regulus, but their reasons couldn't be more different."
"How come he's in the Order?" Harry says, very quietly.
"He's useful," Sirius mutters. "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. And my brother thinks that letting him go anywhere near the china is foolish. He thinks he is too interested in our trinkets."
After dinner Mr Weasley is leaning back in his chair, looking replete and relaxed; Tonks is yawning widely, her nose now back to normal; Bill is leaning back in his chair; Mundungus is practically sleeping on the chair; Regulus is nursing a glass of whine, and staring at it; Molly is simply looking at Fred and George's unceasing chatter; Ron and Hermione are talking; and Ginny, who has lured Crookshanks out from under the dresser, is sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolling Butterbeer corks for him to chase.
"Nearly time for bed, I think," says Mrs. Weasley with a yawn.
"Not just yet, Molly," says Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning 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 atmosphere in the room changes with the rapidity one associates with the arrival of Dementors. Were seconds before it was sleepily relaxed, it is now alert, even tense. A frisson has gone around the table at the mention of Voldemort's name. Lupin, who was about to take a sip of wine, lowers his goblet slowly, looking wary. Apart from Sirius, the only one who seems unaffected is his brother, who keeps looking at his glass.
"I did!" says Harry indignantly. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so…"
"And they're quite right," says Mrs. Weasley. "You're too young." She is sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched on its arms, every trace of drowsiness gone.
"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" asks Sirius. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen…"
"Hang on!" interrupts George loudly.
"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" says Fred angrily.
"We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!" says George.
"'You're too young, you're not in the Order'" says Fred, in a high-pitched voice that sounds uncannily like his mother's. "Harry's not even of age!"
"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing," says Sirius calmly, "that's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand…"
"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply. The expression on her normally kind face looks dangerous. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"
"Which bit?" Sirius asks politely, but with the air of a man readying himself for a fight.
"The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know." said Mrs. Weasley, placing a heavy emphasis on the last three words.
The children's heads swivel from Sirius to Mrs. Weasley as though they were following a tennis rally. Ginny is kneeling amid a pile of abandoned Butterbeer corks, watching the conversation with her mouth slightly open. Lupin's eyes are fixed on Sirius.
"I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly," says Sirius. "But as he is the one who saw Voldemort come back" again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name "he has more right than most to…"
Regulus nods briefly, he agrees with his brother in that, and he doesn't think Molly is right in this particular matter. Whatever they do, Harry already knows too much. Of course, they can be both biased as they were never really treated like innocent children to begin with.
"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" says Mrs. Weasley. "He's only fifteen and…"
"And he's dealt with as much as most in the Order," says Sirius, "and more than some."
"No one's denying what he's done!" says Mrs. Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. "But he's still…"
"He's not a child!" said Sirius impatiently.
"He's not an adult either!" said Mrs. Weasley, the colour rising in her cheeks. "He's not James, Sirius!"
"I've got perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly," said Sirius coldly. Regulus shakes his head. If he was Molly, he'd back out. He knows all too well that tone means that he is already pissed. Molly sure can't expect Sirius to talk to Harry as if he was a baby; he wouldn't do it to any child much less and adolescent fifteen years old.
"I'm not sure you are!" says Mrs. Weasley. "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?" says Harry.
"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!" says Mrs. Weasley, her eyes still boring into Sirius. "You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"
"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" demands Sirius, his voice rising, he is about to explode.
"Meaning you have been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and…"
"We'll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!" says Sirius loudly.
"Arthur!" says Mrs. Weasley, rounding on her husband. "Arthur, back me up!"
Mr. Weasley does not speak at once. He takes off his glasses and cleans them slowly on his robes, not looking at his wife. Only when he has replaced them carefully on his nose does he reply.
"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," says Lupin quietly, looking away from Sirius at last, as Mrs. Weasley turns quickly to him, hopeful that finally she was about to get an ally, "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." that sounds reasonable, but Molly can be very stubborn.
"Well," says Mrs. Weasley, breathing deeply and looking around the table for support that does not come, "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 Harry's best interests at heart…"
"He's not your son," says Sirius quietly.
"He's as good as," says Mrs. Weasley fiercely. "Who else has he got?"
"He's got me!"
"Yes," says Mrs. Weasley, her lip curling, "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?" Regulus' face hardens at the cruel comment that isn't even meant for him. His eyes are two knifes of ice that glare at Mrs Weasley; angered at her pretentious assumption. Sirius starts to rise from his chair. His brother motions with his hand for him to sit back down, but he ignores him.
"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," says Lupin sharply, and adds. "Sirius, sit down." Mrs. Weasley's lower lip is trembling. Sirius sinks slowly back into his chair, his face white.
"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this," Lupin continues "he's old enough to decide for himself."
"I want to know what's been going on." Harry says at once, not looking at Mrs. Weasley.
"Very well," said Mrs Weasley, her voice cracking. "Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, I want you out of this kitchen, now." There was instant uproar. Protest filled the room.
"We're of age!" Fred and George bellow together.
"Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!" says Ron hotly. "Won't, won't you?"
"Course I will." Harry says after a few seconds.
"Fine!" shouts Mrs. Weasley. "Fine! Ginny, BED!"
They can hear Ginny raging and storming at her mother all the way up the stairs, and when she reaches the hall Mrs. Black's ear-splitting shrieks are added to the din. The younger of the Blacks rolls his eyes. Lupin hurries off to the portrait to restore calm. It is only after he has returned, closing the kitchen door behind him and taking his seat at the table again, that Sirius speaks.
"OK, Harry… what do you want to know?" Harry takes a deep breath and asks that question.
"Where's Voldemort?" he says, ignoring the renewed shudders and winces at the name. "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 funny deaths yet," says Sirius, "not as far as we know, anyway… and we know quite a lot."
"More than he thinks we do, anyway," says Lupin.
"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry asks.
"Because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself." says Sirius. "It would be dangerous for him. His comeback doesn't come off quite the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up."
"Or rather, you messed it up for him." says Lupin, with a satisfied smile.
"How?" Harry asks, perplexed. Regulus is amazed as how naïve the skinny boy can be, with all he apparently he has gone trough. Although, if he has been under Molly's wing for so long, it might not be all that strange.
"You weren't supposed to survive!" says Sirius. "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," says Lupin. "And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once."
"How has that helped?" Harry asks.
"Are you kidding?" says Bill incredulously. "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." says Sirius.
"So, what's the Order been doing?" says Harry, looking around at them all.
"Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans," says Sirius.
"How d'you know what his plans are?" Harry asks quickly, as if afraid of a time-out.
"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," says Lupin, "and Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate."
"So what does Dumbledore reckon he's planning?"
"Well, firstly, he wants to build up his army again," says Sirius. "In the old days he had huge numbers at his command: witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, a great variety of Dark creatures. You heard him planning to recruit the giants; well, they'll be just one of the groups he's after. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters." Sirius' brother shifts uncomfortably on his chair.
"So you're trying to stop him getting more followers?"
"We're doing our best," says Lupin.
"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," said Bill. "It's proving tricky, though."
"Why?"
"Because of the Ministry's attitude," says Tonks. "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?" says Harry desperately. "Why's he being so stupid? If Dumbledore…"
"Ah, well, you've put your finger on the problem" says Mr. Weasley with a wry smile. "Dumbledore."
"Fudge is frightened of him, you see" says Tonks sadly.
"Frightened of Dumbledore?" says Harry incredulously.
"Frightened of what he's up to." says Mr. Weasley. "Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him. He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister for Magic."
"But Dumbledore doesn't want…"
"Of course he doesn't." says Mr. Weasley. "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," says Lupin. "But it seems he's become fond of power, and much more confident. He loves being Minister for 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?" says Harry angrily. "How can he think Dumbledore would just make it all up, that I'd make it all up?"
"Because accepting that Voldemort's back would mean trouble like the Ministry hasn't had to cope with for nearly fourteen years," says Sirius bitterly. "Fudge just can't bring himself to face it. It's so much more comfortable to convince himself Dumbledore's lying to destabilise him."
"The fact is that he's a self-centred fool." Harry turns towards Regulus, he hasn't talked yet and for a moment he thinks that it is Sirius talking again. "He's always been, and always will be. He's as incapable of facing the fact that he imprisoned an innocent man as of facing that the Dark Lord's back."
"You see the problem," says Lupin. "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 rumour-mongering, so most of the wizarding community are completely unaware any things 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?" says Harry, looking around. "You're letting people know he's back?" They all smile humourlessly.
"Well, as everyone thinks I'm a mad mass-murderer and the Ministry's put a ten thousand Galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?" says Sirius restlessly.
"And I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community," says Lupin. "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," says Sirius, "and it's very important for us to have spies inside the Ministry, because you can bet Voldemort will have them. And my brother has several issues that make things a little bit difficult for people to listen to him; he has exactly the same credibility I have."
"We've managed to convince a couple of people, though," says Mr. Weasley. "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 are putting the news out that Voldemorts back…" Harry begins.
"Who says none of us are putting the news out?" says Sirius. "Why do you think Dumbledore's in such trouble?
"What d'you mean?"Harry asks.
"They're trying to discredit him," says Lupin. "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 Wizard 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," says Bill, grinning.
"It's no laughing matter," says Mr. Weasley sharply. "If he carries on defying the Ministry like this he could end up in Azkaban, and the last thing we want is to have 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. 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?" asked Harry desperately.
"Voldemort doesn't march up to people's houses and bang on their front doors, Harry" says Sirius. "He tricks, jinxes and blackmails them. He's well-practised at operating in secret."
"He knows that those who could be interested in joining will come to him; he has no need of campaigning to get new Death Eaters." adds Regulus. Harry has again the impression that is Sirius speaking again.
"In any case, gathering followers is only one thing he's interested in." says Sirius. "He's got other plans too, plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed, and he's concentrating on those for the moment."
"What's he after apart from followers?" Harry asks swiftly. Sirius and Lupin exchange the most fleeting of looks before Sirius answers.
"Stuff he can only get by stealth." When Harry continues to look puzzled, Sirius says, "Like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time."
"When he was powerful before?"
"Yes."
"Like what kind of weapon?" says Harry. "Something worse than the Avada Kedavra?"
"That's enough!" Mrs. Weasley speaks from the shadows beside the door. Harry hadn't noticed her return from taking Ginny upstairs. Her arms are crossed and she looked furious. "I want you in bed, now. All of you," she adds, looking around at Fred, George, Ron and Hermione. The Blacks roll their eyes.
"You can't boss us" Fred began.
"Watch me," snarls Mrs. Weasley. She is trembling slightly as she looks at Sirius. "You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straightaway."
"Why not?" says Harry quickly. "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight."
"No." It is not Mrs. Weasley who speaks this time, but Lupin. "The Order is comprised only of overage wizards," he says. "Wizards who have left school," he adds, as Fred and George open their mouths. "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 shrugs and does not argue. Mrs. Weasley beckons imperiously to her sons and Hermione. One by one they stand up and Harry, recognising defeat, follows suit. Molly turns to the adults in the kitchen.
"What part of only telling him what he needs to know didn't you understand?" yells Molly at no one in particular but looking Sirius closely.
"Come on Molly, the kids had the right to know something." says Tonks, Molly glares at her.
"They already knew something!"
"Please, Molly, we haven't told them much, just what they needed to." says Arthur trying to be reasonable.
"And you Sirius," says turning to the aforementioned man. "you are supposed to care for him, not trying to enrol him in the order!" Sirius looks at her with a raised eyebrow, and cocks his head provocatively.
"I do damn care. But I don't try to fool myself. Do you think they would've stayed quiet and nice if you had kept them in the dark for much longer?" he snarls. "They would've gone to absurd ends to get answers, done something foolish when we are not around to watch after them; something dangerous, Molly. They've done it already too many times! They have to be conscious of what we are facing here. Not just some phantasmagorical taboo they hear hushed rumours about! I won't say I know them well, but I know that keeping them ignorant will backfire on us. Give it time."
"Then it is the job of responsible adults to keep them safe!" she shouts angrily.
"Molly, you are going to loose your voice, and my ears are aching." and then Sirius raises. "and I'm going to have a hell of a migraine if I don't stop hearing your ranting." he says before he leaves, leaving a very surprised and angry Molly behind. The room remains silent for a while, then Molly talks again.
"He's incredible, trying to tell me how to raise my own children…" but she never gets to quite finish her sentence.
"I think he's right." she turns towards the voice, and sees it belongs to Regulus. "Children aren't stupid. Children are children. And they need to be talked to, and listened to. The consequences of doing otherwise are dreadful for any parent. Potter isn't a child, either way. You just have to look at his eyes to know; too many disappointments.
Without another word he follows his brother out of the room, headed presumably, towards his room.
1 Sirius is taking about cancer, which his family is genetically prone to. It is the reason why while wizards are normally long-lived, far more than muggles, his family die at ages that would not be unusual, were they muggles, but for a wizard mean they die young, from a quick fulminating illness.