Dinner that evening was loud and lively, a wild, overwhelming affair for the woman who didn't quite belong. After the meal had been finished, and the residents of Grimmauld Place had calmed down, Dahlia was finishing her evening cup of tea, keeping quietly to herself. Glancing up as she was approached, she smiled as Dumbledore sat down next to her at the table. The conversation was quiet among the Order, the famed trio slipping away in what they hoped was a stealthy way. In truth, every person at the table had noticed and most had smiled to themselves at their effort.
"It's been a busy day for you," Dumbledore began, sighing contentedly and stretching his old bones out. "You must be ready to put your head on a pillow."
Dahlia hummed and put her teacup down, eyes trailing over every face like a devoted painter, admiring the laughs and life each subject radiated. Sirius and Remus were speaking together, Fred and George were laughing with each other, Ginny and Tonks were having an animated discussion, and Mr and Mrs Weasley were watching their children fondly, hands clasped beneath the table.
"I am," she admitted, shifting her head on her neck to better see him. "There's still so much to do, though, and to say," she lamented. A full stomach and cup of tea really did do wonders for her relaxation, unfortunate that it made her so tired when there was still so much to do.
Dumbledore shook his head. "My dear, you've had a full day. There will be time plenty enough for you to enlighten us on how you achieved your victory tomorrow, and the coming weeks. You should take time now and rest. You'll need your wits for our trip to the Ministry tomorrow."
Dahlia huffed in equal parts amusement and despair, remembering just how painful the Ministry used to be. "Right," she said, shaking her head, "it'll be an uphill battle with them tomorrow, won't it?" She sighed, and ran her hand through her hair. Dumbledore chuckled but didn't refute her. Dahlia sighed again and stood up on aching feet. "I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then, Professor," she smiled, stretching her back. "Bright and early, and ready to take down Fudge."
"Now, Dahlia, you know I'm not trying to undermine Cornelius. Simply help him see the truth," the headmaster chided, waving a spidery finger at her. Dahlia rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, yeah. I know."
"Ready for bed, dear?" Mrs Weasley had shuffled over, reaching to pick up Dahlia's discarded teacup. "You look exhausted. Come on, we prepared a room for you," she hustled, hand on Dahlia's back as she moved her. Dahlia glanced back over her shoulder one last time as she left the room, just to get one more glimpse of the assembled Order. If she went to sleep and woke up home again, she wanted to see them all together, laughing and smiling, just one last time.
Finally making their way to the floor Mrs Weasley had chosen for her, in a dark and dirty hallway despite best efforts to clean it and the rest of the house, the motherly witch smiled as she stopped in front of an unremarkable oaken door.
"Here you are, dear," she said, pushing it open and waving her arm. "If there's anything you need, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask."
Dahlia smiled and thanked Mrs Weasley with half her attention, caught between the old and the new, because it wasn't unremarkable at all. Of all the rooms to give her, they gave her this one. This had been Teddy's room when he came to visit her, and now she'd be using it as the guest instead. It was the perfect middle ground between what was once her bedroom, the bathroom on this floor, and the kitchen for whenever her godson wanted a midnight snack. Dahlia didn't notice Mrs Weasley move away and return downstairs, too distracted by images of blue-haired little boys running back to bed with chocolate smeared over their mouths in the dead of night. Her face screwed up in sudden grief at the thought of him, the quiet hall giving her time to slow down and think like her busy day and dinner had not. All those people downstairs who were alive and well weren't the ghosts anymore; little Teddy Lupin had become the ghost to her, a never-was boy in this new world. And suddenly she felt all alone.
"Filthy Mudbloods and blood traitors, dirtying the house of my mistress. How she would punish Kreacher if she saw he let them in."
Dahlia inhaled to control herself and turned to see her old elf reach the top of the stairs, linen folded in his skinny arms. Well, she supposed he wasn't her elf anymore, that cranky yet loveable creature that always made sure she had a warm meal after Quidditch, and treacle tart and butterbeer on the second of May. It was unsettling to see him so unwell. After knowing how wonderful Kreacher could be, it made her sad to see him reduced to what he had been before she'd given him that locket.
"Half-breeds and half-bloods, spreading their filth through my mistress's noble house."
Dahlia pursed her lips at Kreacher as he shuffled slowly towards her door, seemingly oblivious to her stood still outside the room. She recalled how caught up in his own world he had been after having suffered alone in the house with only Walburga Black's portrait all those years. He really was a sad little creature right now, and caused Dahlia no shortage of pity.
Still muttering to himself, the aged elf passed by her knees and hobbled into her room, pausing in his vicious words for the first time only when he glanced up and noticed the bed already made. Dahlia stepped inside and shut the door behind her as she watched him. He started his vitriol again, after a moment, and turned to begin making his way back towards the door. Dahlia shook her head at him and decided enough was enough.
"Kreacher," she acknowledged, watching as he flinched and glanced up at her as if only noticing her for the first time.
He vocalised his thoughts again. "It's the new mistress. Mistress Walburga wouldn't like that, not this new one. Oh, my poor mistress, she won't replace you, she can't replace you. Dahlia Potter, the woman from far away. Stepping in as bold as brass, thinking she can save the world," he muttered, staring up at her hatefully, his eyes large, bloodshot, and pale.
Dahlia shook her head and ignored his words. This Kreacher, as her Kreacher before, was a product of the wizards that made him. And this Kreacher hadn't betrayed the Order yet.
"Hello, Kreacher," she began, stepping further into the room. His eyes narrowed on her. "How are you?" she asked awkwardly, then immediately grimaced at her question and looked helplessly at the sorry house-elf.
Kreacher's mouth twisted. "Wonders how he is? What does the new mistress want from Kreacher?" Dahlia was uncertain if he was asking her or talking to himself, but decided to jump right into the thick of it, as she always had.
"I want you to answer a question for me, Kreacher," she said, straightening up. "Just one question, and I want you to tell the truth."
So many things seemed to be the same in Harry's world, but just as many could yet be different. It wasn't just her being a boy, or the slower timeline that worried her. If Voldemort was a different kind of evil here, her help might be useless after all.
"Mistress," he spat, addressing her, "can ask Kreacher anything and he will answer her."
He hated her, though, and she knew from personal experience that just one loophole would be exploited by the hateful house-elf bound to serve her. He'd done it to Sirius, he'd done it to her before she earned his loyalty, and he would do it again given the chance. But Dahlia knew, whatever he was expecting from her, it wasn't this.
"Did Master Regulus ask you to destroy a locket?"
The house-elf froze, eyes wide and glassy, then his limbs started shaking and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Dahlia felt a swell of love and pity for this elf, and swooped down without thinking to wrap him in a hug. He jerked viciously away from her, then seemed to catch himself, and stiffened. She'd stopped, though, and let her arms fall to her sides on the floor where she crouched, watching the old elf gasp and shake and start to cry.
"Did he, Kreacher?" she asked quietly, eyes and face softening.
He was already shaking so much it was hard to tell, but then Kreacher's eyes met her own and he nodded.
"Yesss," he hissed, lips trembling. "Master Regulus asked Kreacher to destroy it but Kreacher could not. He failed, oh, he failed his poor, precious master." He began to wail, big, fat tears escaping his eyes, and started to shake even worse than before. Dahlia could no longer help herself and reached out, clasping his bony shoulder.
"You didn't fail him, Kreacher," she said, shaking her head. "We won't fail him. We'll finish what Master Regulus started, and destroy the thing that killed him."
Sniffling and disbelieving, Kreacher looked up at her, pale eyes wide and watery. Dahlia squeezed his shoulder once and stood up, resolute as ever before.
"Bring me the locket, Kreacher," she ordered, countenance firm. "Bring me the locket Master Regulus asked you to destroy."
A beat, a breath, a blink.
And then he disappeared with a crack.
Man, I love house-elves. Does anyone else ever imagine Kreacher and Molly Weasley cold warring with each other while they're in the same house? The Housekeeping Hunger Games, or something. Kreacher may not do his job properly but it's still his house, and Molly does her job above the call of duty all up in his territory. Just the image of them getting stuck in over how to fold sheets has me in giggles.
And these chapters are finally getting slowly but steadily longer (like I promised). I bet that makes you very pleased.
Oh, and even though I mentioned I find the Sirius/fem!Harry pairing kinda squicky (maybe I've only ever read the ones not done right?), a few of you have mentioned how hard you ship it, so I thought I'd mention something else. I have at least one more fem!Harry/Sirius pairing in the works (a time-travel with a Ginny/Remus pairing too—because why not?), that is slowly but surely getting written. If you're interested. It's called In Godric's Hollow – so far, anyway. Maybe you'd read it too? (If so, do you want me to put the first chapter up? I can promise, though, that it won't be updated regularly at all, as I haven't got it as fleshed out as this fic yet—I just kinda write it when I need a break from other fics.)
Wow. So much genderbending. Do I have an addiction? …Nah.
Thanks so much for all the pairing suggestions, too! Wowza, I was a little blown away. I would love to answer all of you, reassuring you or telling you 'hell no!' (I'm joking…I'd say it nicer than that :P), but if I were to answer some of you guest reviewers in this AN I'd be giving some of the game away, and ruining my own fun. Drat. Some of you did get me thinking in some non-canon pairing directions, but you'll have to wait and see, I guess ;) I will say, however, that while this story is AU, I always do my best to keep characters in character (if not, I'll always specify OOC so you know what to expect), so a couple of the pairings suggested are just not feasible with the way things stand in JK's world. Sorry to those of you with your hearts set on them; Red Sky At Night (at least) will not change the fundamentals of each character's personality to suit an 'out-there' non-canon pairing (and I won't be spending enough time on their character development just so they can have that romantic pairing realistically). As for Dahlia's previous pairings (in her universe), there will be some happy and sad times to come as our canon characters learn more about her past. Hint: her future went in a very different direction to Harry's because of reasons, even if she ended up Head Auror anyway. (But more on that later).