A.N.: Another revised chapter!
The Eldest of the Pleiades
10
Maia was no stranger to going out; in the last year months, she and her friends had succeeded in sneaking into the clubs nearby, mostly because Maia could use magic and charmed the bouncers and bar-staff, but she had always gone out with people her own age—not two women nearly ten years her senior, though, as Ailith said, "You look old enough to have gone to uni with us. If I'd looked like you while I was still at Hogwarts…"
It was a little awkward at first, hanging out with these two witches, outside Grimmauld Place, intending to go to a gig, but when Ailith latched on momentarily to her forearm to guide Maia as they Apparated to a different part of London, they arrived outside the Leaky Cauldron, and Maia's excitement skyrocketed.
Diagon Alley at night was no different than during the daytime, only instead of colourful stalls and bright umbrellas outside the cafés and ice-cream parlours, pubs groaned with patrons, live music blasted, mixed with loud laughter; and the beautifully-tiled fish-and-chip shop was groaning with customers, the magic-heated range cooking up the freshest cod Maia had seen in a while. A stall had been set up outside the butcher's, barbecuing burgers, sausages and strips of steak in crisp homemade rolls; and the little record-shop was busy with young-adults who wanted tickets to see this or that particular band. Ailith stopped here to check in with the proprietor, whom she had gone to Hogwarts with, and who recognised Maia.
Going out for the night wasn't like it was for Muggles; Maia saw very few teenagers, except the ones who were eighteen or nineteen and had already left Hogwarts, and nobody was getting drunk for the sake of being drunk. She never had; she had never been in that kind of group, either, never friends with those kinds of girls who forgot to put on trousers and painted their faces orange with bronzer, falling over their high-heels onto the floor after two alcopops. She had been raised by an ancient relative, in different foreign cultures where alcohol was served with meals in a sociable atmosphere, and if Maia went out, she bought one bottle of admittedly inferior-quality cider, and drank it slowly. She liked best going to the beer-garden at the local pub, or hanging out with friends, talking a lot, dancing, and listening to good music. Last year's Twinwood festival had been amazing because of the atmosphere, and she got the same sense of it in Diagon Alley. People sat about with their drinks at tables on the cobblestones, talking and laughing, young adults and people Ailith's age, and inside music bars, live bands—energetic jive, lively jazz and swing—prompted people dressed up in their best to dance.
The Weeping Sunflower was a larger venue with a stage illuminated by brilliant, continuous mute fireworks, people laughing and sipping their drinks, the music not so loud that normal conversation couldn't be carried out, small tables scattered around the sides of the panelled hall, the walls papered with posters and record-sleeves, metal tiles printed with funny sayings, a dart-board and notice-board that Maia's eyes were drawn to, sitting at a little table while Tonks and Ailith went to get drinks.
Maia loved to watch people; Sirius frequently had to tug on her skirt to get her to stop dawdling along Diagon Alley just watching the world go by. But young witches and wizards in the musical scene were very different to the witches and wizards who frequented the markets and shops in the mornings, in the way they dressed at least.
Maia observed everything, committing things to her journal; the cut of tops, the details of the popular cut of dresses, the personalised details on high-heeled shoes and boots, the accessories. Evening fashion for the younger generation seemed to be an eclectic mixture of Wizard and Muggle styles, the women exhibiting a combination of punk, vintage bombshell, incredibly-detailed couture and sassily girlish styles pulled off with a strut and a wink: wizards, Maia observed, were far more adventurous in their clothing choices than Muggle men, at least of this century; she saw a lot of silk shirts, dragon-hide trousers, beaded velvet waistcoats, Cuban-heeled boots and military-style jackets; almost everyone wore a hat, all of which were very cool, and a lot of very cool accessories that looked handmade. They seemed utterly comfortable in whatever they wore, in a way no Muggle would be quite as relaxed. In her corset-top, the flesh-flashing trousers covered in tiny tassels and beadwork, her shimmering fuchsia pedicure and red lips, Maia fit right in, and she had never felt as comfortable wearing her own style than she did now, curious that the music playing sounded inspired by the likes of Lana Del Rey and Florence + The Machine, perhaps because of a chinkling harp, but it featured soft bagpipes in the background and beautiful violins, upbeat despite its wistful prettiness.
Maia went to grab a small table under the octagonal Billywigs dartboard, supplied with a glass of cider, and her journal, and she sat making a lot of hasty, beautifully-coloured watercolour sketches and notes; she wrote down the names of the vendors who sold the items she liked, emboldened to ask the witches and wizards who wore them.
Something about Diane's inexplicable talent of finding someone to talk to anywhere they went—even the middle of the Egyptian desert—must have been encoded in Maia as she grew up, because the music, the atmosphere, being delighted to be out for the night for the first time since her trip to London, because she started talking to anybody who caught her eye. Asking about their clothes was the ice-breaker, and soon her apprehension about going out with two women a decade older than herself melted away. Someone whirled a chair around and plonked themselves down on it, sitting astride it with their arms draped over the back of the chair, grinning handsomely at her as he set his glass down.
"You came in with Ailith," he said, not accusatorily; he smiled, blue eyes twinkling; he wore several etched silver rings on his large, clever-fingered hands, and a chunky dragon-hide watch, and would not have been out of place at a punk concert, with tousled hair the colour of Demerara sugar, very lovely lips and a tiny dimple in his cheek where he'd had chicken pox.
"Yeah, I did," Maia said, smiling as Tonks caught her eye over the man's shoulder, waving and nudging Ailith beside her, whose eyes lighted on the man.
"I'm Jack," he said, offering his hand; he couldn't have been more than his mid-twenties, exceptionally handsome, with a deep warm voice.
"Maia," she smiled, shaking his hand. Ailith approached, bearing a laden tray expertly.
"Wow, Ailith, you've still got the gift," Jack remarked.
"Well, some things you never lose," Ailith said, and as she set three gold shots on the table, the surface of the liquid sparkling as if thousands of tiny pearlescent silver goldfish leapt across it, she fixed Jack with a look, "and some things you lose to the wrong person." Maia raised her eyebrows and hid her face in her pint. Jack suddenly scowled at Ailith, who arched an eyebrow.
"Ouch! You know, you've really turned into an uptight—"
"Don't say it."
"Bitch."
"He said it," Ailith sighed, turning to Maia as she sat down. "That's amazing."
"Hey, you're tired, you snap at me when I'm being adorable to your friend, you're stressed out, you're sad, and I always notice," Jack said, linking a lightly-muscled arm around Ailith's slim shoulders, drawing her effortlessly closer on her bench. His pretty eyes flickering over Ailith's face, Maia felt suddenly like an intruder on a very private moment, Ailith relaxing into Jack, him pressing a lingering kiss on her cheek, murmuring something in her ear. She rubbed her face, and Maia realised how tired Ailith actually did look, perhaps because her friend seemed to have breached her guard.
"Come on, you can tell me," Jack said coaxingly, plying Ailith with one of the pints of cider and black.
"I've told you, I can't," Ailith said, stifling a yawn.
"And I've told you, tell me when the next meeting is," Jack said, lowering his voice. Maia sipped her cider and black, wondering when Tonks would finish talking to someone at the bar and save her from third-wheeling Jack and Ailith.
"I'm not going to do that lightly, Jackie," Ailith said, rubbing her face tiredly and taking a sip of her drink.
"Who says I'm asking lightly?" Jack said. "I've been thinking about it. Why do I do what I do?"
"So you don't have to get a real job," Ailith murmured. Jack pinched her playfully, hiding a smile.
"No, I do what I do to try and make a difference," Jack said, "make people happier. What better way to do that than by helping get rid of him?" Ailith sighed, searching Jack's face, which was decidedly earnest, and she eventually smiled, turning to Maia.
"Maia, this is Jack," she said, "the lead singer and guitarist of the Frabjous Chizpurfles. Jack, this is Maia. She's a witch who attended Muggle school, and she's just found out Sirius Black is her uncle."
"Fugitive murderer's niece," Jack said, eyebrows flying up. "Tough break. That's one reputation I wouldn't want to try and live down."
"Yes, well, yours is bad enough," Ailith said, smiling as she sipped her drink, and Jack turned a very deadbeat glance on her as Maia laughed. "Shouldn't you be setting up?"
"We don't go on for another hour," Jack said, checking his watch. "I brought Pip's drum-kit by for him. Have you ever heard any Wizard music?" Jack asked Maia curiously.
"Tonks gave me some doubles from her record collection," Maia nodded. "How did you come up with the name? 'Frabjous' is from a Muggle story."
"The Jabberwocky," Jack grinned. "From Through the Looking Glass. I'm a Muggle-born, like Ailith."
"What's keeping Tonks?" Ailith sighed, and Maia glanced over at the bar.
"Oh!" she blurted, setting down her cider, and surged out of her seat. "I'll be back. That looks like the Bat Signal."
"It is," Ailith said, chuckling as she glanced over at Tonks, being harangued by a good-looking wizard.
"You alright, sweet?" Maia asked brightly, slinging an arm around Tonks' shoulders as she approached the bar. She grinned at the wizard who had been slowly making more courageous advances on Tonks. "Thanks for keeping my girlfriend company." To Tonks' amusement, Maia popped a kiss on her cheek. "Otherwise se would've noticed how late I am and she would've left. Sorry I'm late." She linked hands with Tonks, and pulled her away from the bar, leading her to the table. Tonks was laughing as she sat down.
"Thanks!" she giggled, wiping her eyes. "I thought it'd kill the atmosphere a bit if I cursed him!"
"Don't mention it," Maia smiled. They fell into conversation about the Muggle music Maia liked, Jack a little surprised that Maia loved Elvis, jive, The Kinks, and Metallica.
"Look at her ears!" Tonks said, sipping her drink, and Maia rolled her eyes slightly as she showed her uncommon piercings, which further surprised Jack, even Ailith, because Ailith had seen Maia in her handmade sundresses, a handkerchief over her hair, sewing blinds for a boudoir connected to one of the grander bedrooms (nicknamed the "honeymoon suite"), or kneading dough and singing to Elvis.
Maia hadn't had as much fun in a few weeks. This summer, she had expected to be going out nearly every night, to dancing-lessons, Amateur Dramatics meetings and Pilates at the very least, if not rock-night at C7-T1 or Quay Club, chatting and drinking near-toxic neon Midianites in the heated deck outside Baq Bar and going for piping-hot chips at the end of the night. There had been very few instances when Maia could go out, but when she did, she usually stumbled home at dawn with a camera full of memories, the only one able to record them due to having only one drink she nursed the entire night.
It was fun sitting here, listening to Jack, Tonks and Ailith banter, getting a list of musicians Maia liked the sound of from the playlist put on by the bar-staff; she got chatted up by three wizards, one of whom said he was a professional Quidditch-player, and rescued Tonks several times from different wizards. Maia tried an Opaleye shot, the one with the sparkling, dancing surface, and when the music volume was turned up, Tonks dragged her off to dance. Maia hadn't danced and laughed like this for weeks, too upset to party and her friends too wary of upsetting her to invite her with any conviction.
As Jack's band-mates appeared, Maia was introduced to them as a "fugitive murderer's niece" Maia Black, and while Pip sat drumming to himself, grinning dazedly and reeking of pot, handsome Patch with his slightly dreadlocked, berserker-braided hair that reminded her of Til, laughed with Maia and teased her, argued with her about Metallica and Offspring,
"The Offspring is your favourite band?" Maia blurted indignantly.
"You listen to Metallica!"
"Metallica is way more substantial than The Offspring!" Maia said, eyes wide.
"It's the same Black Sabbath riff all over again," Patch rolled his eyes, and Maia shook her head exasperatedly.
"The Offspring have like one chord-compression, they used it over and over and popped new lyrics to it and called it a single!" Maia blurted. In penance for insulting his favourite band, Maia had to agree to a game of Billywigs—a game similar to darts, only the fiend who had created the game had filled in each section of the octagonal board with dares. The darts were the shape of odd little bright-blue birdlike creatures with long stings and helicopter-like translucent wings. Maia won. She was renowned for getting things done, and her frequent travelling had made her bold in front of strangers, pushing her to try new things.
The atmosphere was so vibrant and energetic that Maia held on to her second cider-and-black for the remainder of the night; her cheeks stung from grinning so much, laughing with the boys and teasing Tonks. Ailith took as many photographs as Maia did, and when the boys took the stage, the last of their band-mates arriving and necking a firewhiskey apiece, Maia watched, and photographed, and danced with Tonks and Ailith as the Frabjous Chizpurfles—a name Patch dared Maia to say ten times fast after doing several Opaleye shots—performed several of their old favourites, two brand-new songs, and several of their favourite Muggle covers—including Maia's favourite song by The Rolling Stones, "Let's Spend the Night Together".
The second act booked to play that night didn't show up; Jack turned it into a sort of open-mic night, the boys having a rather fantastic back-catalogue of Muggle songs and Flying Horklump Brigade covers, and part of a second game of Billywigs with Tonks and several wizards they had been chatting with had Maia going up onstage, taking over the unused piano, making Tonks and Ailith scream and clap their hands to their faces in ecstatic incredulity as she belted out Adele's, "Set Fire to the Rain", wowing everyone with her "incredible pipes", as Jack dubbed them. The acoustics in the Sunflower were amazing, each instrument beautifully clear, her voice carrying, strong and clear. She couldn't stop grinning, and fell in love with Vittorio's glossy curls as he went wild on his beautiful violin.
Sitting back at their table with Vittorio, the unflappable violinist, Maia nearly spat out a mouthful of cider-and-black when Tonks crinkled her nose, and her hair changed colour. Ailith set down her quill to pat her on the back to stop her choking on her cider as she gaped; she hadn't just come to the Weeping Sunflower for a drink; she was writing a piece on the boys.
"How did you do that?" she gasped.
"I'm a Metamorphmagus," Tonks grinned. At Maia's expression, she chuckled, "I can change my appearance at will. It's dead useful; I didn't even have to revise for Concealment and Tracking."
"Can you learn to become a Metamorphmagus?" Maia asked.
"Nah. Metamorphmagi are rare; they're born, not made," Tonks grinned.
When the bar-staff decided to put their records on again, the boys clambered, exhausted, from the stage, climbing into chairs around Maia, Tonks and Ailith, who had bought another round of drinks, and after resting a little while, they all went onto the dance-floor, having a good time, laughing at each other and themselves.
At the end of the night—wanting to leave while the atmosphere was still fresh, not wanting it to devolve into boredom—Maia and Tonks cradled steak sandwiches, clicking their way down Diagon Alley in their heels while Ailith and Jack talked quietly behind them. Maia suspected the Order might gain a few more members before the week was out. Avoiding Tonks, who had a bit of steak dangling from her pouting lips, Jack swooped down to give Maia a tight hug, promising they'd talk again, and silent, incredibly gorgeous Vittorio had to drag him off when he kept hounding Ailith for the name of her new boyfriend, since she wouldn't go home with him "despite our time-honoured tradition!"
Without anybody else hanging around, Ailith and Tonks grabbed Maia by her forearms and side-along Apparated with her to Grimmauld Place; Ailith tapped the front-door of number twelve, and the many locks and chains clicked and slid open. The hall was illuminated with a dim golden glow from several lamps left on, and the house wasn't as quiet as Maia had expected; perhaps her ears were ringing, but she was sure she could hear music playing in one of the upper-storeys, which was probably Sirius with his records.
"Maia, you couldn't put a pot of tea on for us, could you?" Ailith said quietly, glancing around the hall. Maia smiled, and they quietly made their way downstairs, taking care not to wake Mrs Black's portrait, and Tonks was still grinning as she clambered into a seat at the table while Maia boiled the kettle and filled the teapot, setting out teacups and slicing several hot-cross buns in half to toast.
"So, did you have fun?" Tonks asked brightly, smiling at Maia while Ailith buttered herself a hot-cross bun, smiling.
"I did," Maia beamed. She was buzzing with adrenaline, had had so much fun tonight; the band had been amazing, and fun. That steak sandwich had been gorgeous, and she had won the ultimate dare challenge game, against a band of rather unruly, eccentric young wizards. "Thank you for inviting me."
"You're welcome," Ailith smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."
"We should definitely do this again," Tonks smiled, around a mouthful of hot-cross bun. "The Puffskeins are playing at the Brass Jobberknoll next week."
"The Brass Jobberknoll?" Maia said, glancing up at Tonks as she drained her teacup. "Sirius said he used to go there."
"It was legendary, back in the day," Ailith said.
"I beg your pardon!" said a deep voice, and Maia glanced around, grinning, as Sirius dropped into the kitchen; Ailith looked mildly embarrassed. "Back in the day?"
"It went through bad phase for about five years, but it's under new management now," Ailith said apologetically. "It's a really good atmosphere, and it's free to get in, unless they're hosting a well-known band. Jack loves performing there; the energy is amazing."
"Is it nearly two?" Tonks asked, squinting at the plain carriage-clock on the mantelpiece. "I have to be up at seven."
"Well you'd better get to bed," Sirius remarked solemnly, his lips twitching. "Big-shot Aurors can't be hungover working major cases." Tonks grimaced at him and laughed, before glancing at Maia.
"Would you mind if I crashed in one of the spare rooms?" she asked, grimacing guiltily.
"That's what they're for," Maia laughed softly.
"So, what'd you lot get up to?" Sirius asked, pouring himself a cup of tea.
"Billywigs," Ailith said, glancing up from the article she had been writing, and Sirius chuckled deeply, a handsome grin flashing across his face.
"Oh really," Sirius said, understanding illuminating his features, and he grinned.
"Maia won," Tonks said, grinning. "Never would've guessed you're a bit of a daredevil." Maia shrugged slightly, still grinning softly.
"She takes after your uncle that way," Sirius said proudly. "So, how was the band?"
"Absolutely terrible," Maia said softly, gazing at Sirius. "You didn't miss anything."
"Thank you for saying that," Sirius said softly, smiling as he slung an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.
"What did you do all night?" Ailith asked.
"Helped Remus with work, and I've been languishing in my room with my records and my firewhiskey," Sirius said.
"A good night, then," Ailith smiled. Sirius gave an enigmatic shrug. When they had finished their tea and hot-cross buns, always a good idea after a night out, Maia showed Tonks to a newly-decorated bedroom, leaving Sirius and Ailith chatting downstairs in the kitchen.
Tugging her nightie on, Maia dropped onto her bed, loving the warm cotton soft and fragrant against her skin, falling asleep with the thought that she would go back to the Weeping Sunflower if she had the chance; that the guys in the Frabjous Chizpurfles were normal; that she had filled many rolls of film with photographs to develop.
Next morning, Maia tugged on her dressing-gown, and made her way downstairs, rubbing her face and yawning. Still early, Tonks was drinking tea and making her way through a bacon-sarnie with Ailith, Kreacher humming his way around the kitchen, plating up food for Sirius, snapping his fingers at the kettle so it piped with steam.
"Morning," Maia yawned, climbing into a chair. "Thanks, Kreacher," she added, as Kreacher levitated a bowl of fresh rice-pudding with honey-drenched pistachios and bits of date over to her, with a teacup.
Tonks, her cheek pouched like a hamster, waved a hello to Maia, and Ailith winced as she knocked back a small shot of something poured out of a very dusty cobalt bottle, Sirius smirking.
"We didn't think we'd see you this morning," Ailith said, pouring out a second shot and passing it to Maia. "Hangover cure," she added, as Maia glanced at the tiny glass.
"Actually, I'm alright," Maia smiled.
"That's right; you only had one and a half drinks," Tonks said, after a massive swallow.
"And she's young," Sirius remarked, making Tonks and Ailith give him a dark look they must have learned from each other; Sirius chuckled, turning to his breakfast. Maia took the little cobalt bottle, examining the label curiously. Magic, Maia thought, smiling to herself as Ailith capped the bottle and dusted it off before setting it on the mantelpiece beside the carriage-clock.
"I think I might have had a bit too much to drink last night," Tonks said. "Ailith, how about you?"
"I'm in good form, actually," Ailith said. "Actually, last night went better than I'd hoped."
"Oh yeah?" Sirius asked, and Maia noticed the bite to his tone as he glanced quickly at Ailith.
"Yes," Ailith smiled.
"Is Jack going to join the Order?" Maia asked, and Ailith glanced at her quickly, her teacup halfway to her lips.
"Now, why do you ask that?" she smiled. Maia shrugged.
"All that stuff about making a difference," she said. "Jack writes all the Frabjous Chizpurfles' lyrics, doesn't he?"
"And a lot of the music," Ailith nodded.
"If more people listened to that type of music, if they could get it onto the wireless, it would be a very powerful form of communication," Maia said thoughtfully. She laughed suddenly; "We could plan a Wizarding Woodstock!" Ailith laughed; neither Sirius nor Tonks knew what 'Woodstock' was.
Chuckling, Ailith tucked her parchment into a narrow folder of battered Russian-blue leather, and said, "I'd better be off."
"Yeah, I'd better come with you," Tonks said, polishing off the last few mushrooms and baked-beans from her plate, finishing her tea: they both wore their day-robes, unique and colourful, ready to go to work.
"We'll see you tonight," Tonks called over her shoulder, waving. "With a few new members, hopefully!" Kreacher showed them out of the house while Sirius and Maia finished their breakfasts: Sirius asked for a blow-by-blow on Maia's night, and she pulled out her bag, which she had left in the kitchen, and the numerous rolls of film she needed to process.
"You're a photographer too? Is there nothing you're not good at?" Sirius chuckled.
"Rugby," Maia said flatly, glancing up; she chuckled. "I'm not used to being lazy. It's just the way I was raised. My aunt couldn't exactly run after me at the playground… I have a lot of hobbies."
"You've mentioned that before," Sirius nodded. "Do you have everything you need to process the negatives?"
"And print the photographs," Maia nodded. "Upstairs. I don't know where she got it from, but my aunt gave me a set of magic photography equipment." Sirius nodded.
"You could turn one of the upstairs linen-cupboards into a laboratory," Sirius suggested.
"That's an idea!" Maia beamed. "I've been converting the bathroom every time I've needed to print photographs before!" After showering, Maia met Sirius back downstairs; not needing to head to Diagon Alley for anything, the morning was dedicated to developing the rolls of film she had taken last night, and some older ones from her London trip. She developed the films in her sealed black canister, using the potion Sirius had taught her to make from the book they had picked up in Diagon Alley, and the ingredients Remus had asked for in the apothecary. Washing the negatives free of potion, she pinned them from a string across the ceiling of the warm airing-cupboard on the second-storey to dry, weighting them with clips. While she had been doing this, Sirius had been light-proofing the same cupboard, removing the linen to another so Maia could bring out the chunky enlarger, and he helped run several strings across the length of the wall, with felted clothes-pegs to hang photographs from.
After their daily lesson—Transfiguration, and a little bit of Charms—Sirius went to get a selection of records to listen to, while Maia went up to what was now her photography studio. She came back downstairs with a dozen photograph negatives coiling and streeling through the air around her, and she sat with a pair of very sharp scissors and a pair of soft gloves, carefully cutting the negatives into strips, housing them in special plastic envelopes. She labelled each, with the notes from the canisters, and the date they had been taken. In the wizarding-equipment shop, Maia had discovered a box of photography paper that only became light-sensitive with the use of a specific charm, already coated with potions to develop, stop and fix the photographs. Having read the instructions in the kitchen, Maia went back upstairs and used the charm to activate the light-sensitivity, and, using the enlarger, made contact-sheets of all of her negatives.
Fascinated by and adoring of the ease with which she could print photographs using magic, the sheer lack of mess due to the fact that the paper was already treated with potions, and she intended to go and get her little magnifying loupe to view the contact-sheets when Sirius emerged from the gallery.
"Haven't got anything good to read, have you?" he asked grumpily. Maia smiled.
"I'm sure we can find something," she chuckled, and he followed her to her room: it was now completely redecorated, with false 'panels' of pretty powder-blue trimmed with elaborate white 'frames', each featuring a hand-painted posy of Maia's favourite flowers set into a pale-yellow oval, above the richly-polished rosewood panelling; off-white organza embroidered with warm golden-beige leaf and barley-husk motifs created the blinds, and delicate white curtains printed with different-size pinkish-fuchsia flowers; Kreacher had polished the chandelier and wall-sconces until they shone, and had fixed her huge corkboard to the wall between the two tall windows, under one of which stood her leather-topped desk, at an angle, with her antique oval-mirrored brass shaving-stand with decorative cast-iron feet in the corner, beside which stood a polished little occasional table with a drawer, inlaid with delicate motifs in contrasting woods and gilt, on which some of her cosmetics and perfumes stood. She had propped a few of her watercolours neatly on the ledge running along the top of the panelling around the room, with several record-sleeves and postcards. And she had brought out her own personal trinkets collected from her travels, as well as pretty things from around the house, to decorate the room, with a few little vases of flowers from the Hobbit-hole meadows, and photographs.
Sirius helped Maia bring out some of the boxes of books Professor Dumbledore had packed up in the larger trunk, to go alongside the staggering quantity of books which now rested in neat columns to the top of the panelling along several walls.
"How many books do you own?!" Sirius stared around. At home, just around her own desk alone there were always about ten columns of books, more tossed about on the floor, piling up but tumbling over the floor, caught under the legs of her chair, her feet, sticking out from under her bed, stacked from floor to ceiling.
"I read a lot," Maia said. An understatement. "Plus, my aunt collected books all her life, and she was ancient. Even older than Professor Dumbledore." Sirius raised his eyebrows. "I think there are more, too; in the library at the Big House," Maia said thoughtfully, glancing at the books her aunt had read through. "But I've never been there."
"Never been to your grandparents' house?" Sirius said, glancing at Maia from the corner of his eye.
"No," Maia said softly. "My aunt wouldn't go there; she said she couldn't, after the tragedy. She never talked about it." Sirius sighed softly, then frowned at some of the titles of her books. A lot of the new ones she had bought at Flourish and Blotts were kept in the study; these were the ones she had collected on her travels, as well as Muggle books.
"You weren't lying about being multilingual," he said, picking up several books.
"Do they teach languages at Hogwarts?" Maia asked.
"None at all."
"None?" Maia shook her head, disbelieving. "How can you go into International Relations?"
"I don't know," Sirius chuckled. "The only job I ever had was tearing cinema tickets!" They went through a selection of boxes filled with books; bringing out her aunt's vast collection of magical histories and biographies on the great people of Wizarding history. And, because Sirius asked how Diane had taught Maia languages, Maia brought out the exquisitely beautiful, detailed and playful workbooks Diane had created to teach Maia languages, Arithmancy, Astronomy and Ancient Runes, as well as reading, writing, maths and wizarding history. They were all beautifully illustrated, detailed and personalised.
Though she had been no witch, her aunt had been greatly involved in Wizarding culture—at least, she was one of the foremost experts on Wizarding biographies. Had been, Maia corrected herself. Sirius suggested putting all of Maia's literary collection in the library as soon as they could bring themselves to start working on it, and he went through Maia's vast collection of fairytale-books and fiction novels, some of Diane's workbooks that had begun to teach her different languages, even more recipe-books, books on photography, fashion, interior-design and Muggle history, music and art. The sheer breadth of Maia's interests was visible in her personal library, with books on philosophy and Law amongst fashion magazines, books on obscure moments in history, cookbooks and art books, books in foreign languages, books on chess and theology, Greek mythology and Astronomy alongside maths texts and satirical Wooster novels, and a collection of fictional novels, some dedicated to a supernatural world, Immortals After Dark.
Sirius picked out a handful of books he thought looked interesting, and Maia brought her loupe downstairs with her contact-prints and her diary, in which she made notes of which photographs she wanted to print. Jack, Ailith and Tonks were exceptionally photogenic, and she had captured several excruciatingly wonderful photographs of the boys in the band.
At several points, someone else had taken hold of her camera, capturing frames with her in the pictures. She was very glad one of the films had been processed with the special colour process, and her camera was always so meticulous at picking out every tiny detail, it even got the leaping droplets on the top of their Opaleye shots; the beadwork on her trousers; the tiny star diamantes on Tonks' fishnets; individual sequins on Ailith's skirt; each of Patch's incredibly luxurious eyelashes; the tiny etched details on the beads on some of his berserker-braids; and the incredible vividness of Jack's and Ailith's blue eyes; the vibrating strings of Apolleon's bass-guitar, and the detail of the tattoo on his arm; the tiny planets circumventing twelve exquisitely tiny gold hands on Jack's chunky watch; every glossy sheen of Vittorio's long mane of brunette curls as he went crazy on his polished, engraved-backed violin, which he had let Maia play only after she had promised she would treat it like her own firstborn. There were several photographs taken while she had been onstage, singing and playing the piano, which looked…incredible. But some of the best photographs were of Jack, singing into his microphone, and one of Tonks and Ailith beaming at the camera was particularly beautiful.
Fidgety to get printing, too excited by the amazing photographs, Sirius chuckled, said he was fine with his music and the books Maia had given him, and until it became time for Order members to start showing up for the meeting, Maia remained in her new studio. She carried an armful of fresh prints downstairs with her, and opened the door when someone knocked. The first to arrive was Mrs Diggory, whom Maia had met only twice since she had been at Grimmauld Place, as Mrs Diggory had odd hours, working as a Healer at St Mungo's Hospital.
In quick succession, the working-day having ceased, more and more members were admitted into the house, gathering now both in the kitchen and the dining-room, due to sheer numbers. Maia had thought about getting a start on the drawing-room, but she and Sirius had exchanged a look, grimaced at the idea, and decided to put it off. She and Kreacher went around refilling pitchers, putting out more food, and she was there when Professor Dumbledore arrived, shepherding a handful of newcomers.
Aside from a very pretty older blonde witch in meticulously-tailored robes who worked in the International Magical Office of Law, an olive-skinned man named Lance wearing a vibrant dragon-hide jacket, who worked in the Department of Magical Games and Sports (and took it as a personal affront and beat Maia with a rolled-up Which Broomstick magazine when he discovered Maia had never heard of Quidditch until ten days ago), and a curvy lady in glittery turquoise high-heels, Jack, Appoleon, Vittorio and Patch were also ushered into Number Twelve.
Patch, Maia discovered, was Til Hughes' brother, though they had been estranged for quite a few years due to a disagreement over a girl called Gemma. Ailith arrived, Summoning the magazine from out of Lance's hand so he couldn't continue to swat at Maia.
"Sorry I couldn't get you in the paper today," Ailith said, sweeping her long hair over her shoulder. "Ainsley had a big article on the Weird Sisters' bassist getting engaged." She rolled her eyes, then smiled and accepted a glass of Butterbeer from Sirius, leaning in to kiss his cheek in welcome. "Thank you. You're in tomorrow, though."
"Any coverage is coverage," Jack said, grinning. Vittorio discovered the stack of photographs Maia had just printed, which she had set on the dresser out of the way, and he frowned, before turning to Jack, who set down his beer, his jaw dropping as he went through the photographs, rhapsodising with Patch and Appoleon.
"I haven't managed to process my films yet," Ailith said, looking over Sirius's shoulder as he went through the large seven-by-nine prints, her hand curled over his shoulder, cheek resting on her fingers. "I'd love to trade prints with you though… Could I get a copy of this one?" She held up Maia's favourite photograph of Jack, with Patch, Appoleon and Vittorio playing away behind him, two of Pip's cymbals shining in one corner. "This would really draw attention to the article. God, you're photogenic, boys!"
"Have it," Maia said, smiling. "Those are just a few prints I made. I got about five rolls of film last night."
"Where did you process these?" Ailith asked curiously.
"A cupboard upstairs," Maia said, then beamed, "Sirius light-proofed it for me, so I can use it as a studio." Ailith looked thoughtful for a moment.
"Would you mind if I asked to borrow it for an afternoon," she said, giving Maia a sweet smile. She looked hesitant for a second, glancing at the photograph, saying to Sirius, "If you don't mind waiting a moment, I'm just going to nip back to the office; if I can get there on time, I should be able to slip this into the layout for tomorrow's paper." And she made her way out of the house, Disapparating on the bottom-step.
The kitchen was filled with chatter and laughter; now that the house was far more appealing physically, it seemed the more people wanted to stick around, and the happier and more enthusiastic they were. When Ailith had returned, followed by Bill Weasley, Hestia Jones, Sturgis Podmore and, lastly, Kingsley, Vittorio silently caught Maia before she made her way to the stairs, and handed her a fat manila folder stuffed with sheet-music. Maia glanced at him, saw Vittorio wink subtly, and smiled before she stuck her nose into the folder, examining the names of Wizarding composers she had never even heard of, going through the selections for both violin and the piano.
Taking her photographs back upstairs, Maia paused on the first-floor, in the new music-room. She had set up her music-stand and a chair by the piano, so she could practice her violin, but it was upstairs, and she put a concerto on the piano-stand, sat down, and started playing. It was incredibly beautiful music, and she actually felt quite upset that she had never been allowed to hear it before, and was still playing when someone knocked on the door; Jack grinned. "I followed the music," he chuckled. "That the first time you've played that concerto?"
"Yes."
"Really?" Jack's eyes widened.
"I've never heard of any of these composers," Maia said, finishing the concerto and flexing her fingers, glancing from the folder of sheet-music to Jack, who was gazing around the room, at the sheet-music neatly organised in the two glass-fronted cabinets either side of the fireplace.
"Sirius sent me up to get you. Says you've got to meet the new recruits before they head off," Jack said, and Maia followed him downstairs to the dining-room, where Vittorio was sipping red wine. In first-come-first-serve fashion, those who had arrived earliest for the meeting had claimed the chairs at the dining-table, which was spread with papers, what looked like building floor-plans like architects would create, bottles of wine, Butterbeer, jugs of cordial and platters of sandwiches and the triple-tiered silver cake-stand full of sweet things.
"I must say, it's lovely to have a live concerto playing in the background while we go over plans," Professor Dumbledore said; his eyes twinkled as she gazed at Maia.
"I wasn't too loud?" she asked, flushing.
"No, not at all," Remus smiled. "We all enjoyed it." Many of the adults present for the meeting had to go off home, to meet family-members or get on with paperwork. Mr Diggory remained behind, despite his wife heading for home, to talk quietly with Remus for a little while, and a greater number of the Order left once Professor Dumbledore departed; Maia thought there was a general consensus among the members that nothing interesting would be brought up when Professor Dumbledore wasn't at headquarters, and the few who remained were introduced to Maia: Lance, the wizard from the Department of Magical Games and Sports; Adele Jones, the witch from the International Magical Office of Law; and Madam Rosmerta, who ran the pub called The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, which Maia knew by name as the epicentre of a goblin rebellion.
The boys left, heading to a practice session with Pip, and soon it was only Mr and Mrs Weasley and Bill in the kitchen, Tonks showing people out while Remus carefully wrote out a letter at the table, and Ailith borrowed Maia's photography equipment to process her films.
"I think it might be worth us getting an owl," Remus said, glancing at Sirius, who grunted, eyeing his hand of cards.
"I can take that to the Post Office tomorrow if you want," Maia offered, glancing at the letter Remus was now sealing with wax.
"Actually, I'm on duty tomorrow, again," Remus said. "That would be very helpful, thank you." Maia smiled.
"We can go into Eeylop's to have a look at the owls they've got," Sirius said, setting his hand of cards down; Ailith exhaled in annoyance, biting her lip thoughtfully before setting a single card down, shooting Sirius a dazzling smile as he clenched his jaw and tossed his cards down, arms folded over his chest as Ailith took the little stack of Sickles. Sirius glanced at Maia. "Why don't we have a day off tomorrow?"
"A day off?" Maia blinked. The concept was absurd.
"Yes. Have a lie in; we can go to the allotment, then have an ice-cream at Florean Fortescue's," Sirius smiled. There were times, when Maia went to Diagon Alley with Sirius, that he would disappear if she went into certain shops; he would always return within about twenty minutes, but she knew he was using his disguise to learn about the goings-on in Knocturn Alley, the grubby little dark alley he had told her sold specifically Dark items, because she had heard his voice, in long discussions, during several meetings. "You can have your lesson after that, and we can work on those bedrooms on the fifth-floor before dinner."
"D'you still want to go to the cinema at some point?" Maia asked: they had stopped by the theatre down the street yesterday, on the way back from Diagon Alley, and Maia had memorised the showing times and the films. Only the upcoming Brave and Hotel Transylvania appealed to Maia, who hated Kristen Stewart more than she loved Chris Hemsworth, therefore Snow White and the Huntsman was out. She was counting the days until The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, Oz: The Great and Powerful and Quartet.
"You said the films out now are crap," Sirius said.
"Oh yeah," Maia said heavily. everything in London was gearing up for the Olympics—she had told Sirius about them, and they were going to set aside an evening to watch the Opening Ceremony on her television, Sirius having used magic to siphon Muggle free-view channels to his own magic-powered television, back when he'd had his own flat. "Well, we could set up your projector and watch something. You've got an amazing collection."
"I do, I do," Sirius grinned. "Were you going to HMV to get some of those DVDs we talked about? The Hunger Games?"
"With Liam Hemsworth," Ailith sighed, holding a hand over her heart as her eyelashes fluttered.
"You're a Hunger Games fan?"
"I've got a cousin who's obsessed with Peeta. So I read the books; I don't think you can be fans of ritual infanticide," Ailith said thoughtfully.
"You've not been a class prefect," Maia said drily, and Ailith chuckled.
"No," she smiled.
"I sobbed over Rue, watching the film. And I will marry Gale," Maia said thoughtfully. She sat up straighter, eyes wide, a sudden thought coming to her. "D'you reckon I could Apparate right into Liam Hemsworth's bedroom, wrapped in a big red bow?" The others burst into laughter at the expression on her face. When their laughter subsided, Remus was smirking.
"What?!" Sirius exclaimed.
"Oh, I was just thinking about Professor McGonagall's birthday in our sixth year," Remus said, and after blinking for a second, Sirius giggled.
"I'd forgotten about that," he giggled again.
"Minerva hasn't," Remus said drily, and Sirius descended into laughter. "When I taught at Hogwarts she asked me specifically not to send her any gifts on her birthday. I tried to explain that it was James who had forced you into that box after using the Petrificus Totalus jinx on you."
"It was not! That was you!" Sirius barked, laughing. "James was the one who stripped me! The detention was understandable," Sirius remarked thoughtfully. "The screaming was just undignified."
"You were sent as a birthday strip-o-gram to Professor McGonagall?" Tonks gazed incredulously at Sirius, with something close to reverence.
"Oh, wait till I tell the twins that!" Bill said, his eyes sparkling with delight as he laughed, wiping his eyes.
"That's brilliant," Ailith laughed softly, gasping in a slightly awed voice, "I wish I could have seen her face!"
"You can!" Remus said, grinning softly, eyes twinkling. "James and I took photos!"
"Unfortunately, McGonagall didn't seem to find it quite as funny as Moony and Padfoot. To say she didn't appreciate the sentiment is a tragic understatement," Sirius said, and Maia laughed. "It took three weeks for me to regain my dignity."
"Three weeks, and the Oldman twins," Remus remarked quietly, turning a page of one of his ancient books.
"The Oldman twins!" Sirius grinned lazily. "Good times." He glanced at Maia, catching her eye, and grinned, "I had Steven Tyler for a role-model." Maia laughed into her glass, shaking her head, setting her glass down before she could spill the contents.
"That explains a lot," Ailith said thoughtfully, glancing at Sirius.
"You must've been a right terror to share a dorm with at Hogwarts," Tonks remarked, gazing at Sirius, then at Remus.
"No comment."
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