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 Ten – Battle to the House

The next morning Mrs Weasley recruits all of the current residents of the house to tackle the old drawing room. They had left it for when all the bedrooms had been properly cleansed. The drawing room is currently occupied by the Weasley children, Harry, Hermione, Mrs Weasley and Sirius. They are supposed to start one of Mrs Weasley cleaning sessions in brief; the purpose of this one is trying to remove the Doxies of the curtains.

The drawing room was at one time exquisite, with large windows overlooking the street in front of the house, a large fireplace flanked by two ornate glass-fronted cabinets, and exquisite paper of a muted-blue covering the walls. A grand ornate chandelier hangs from the ceiling, but besides years worth of cobwebs it doesn't appear to be suffering any other major problems. At least it won't be falling on their heads any time soon.

Sirius bends over the old furniture to examine a locked cabinet that stands near the window and is shaking slightly when Molly addresses him.

"Well, Molly, I'm pretty sure this is a Boggart," says Sirius, peering through the keyhole, "but perhaps we ought to let Mad-Eye have a look at it before we let it out. Knowing my mother, it could be something much worse."

"Right you are, Sirius." says Mrs. Weasley. They are both speaking in carefully light, polite voices that tell whoever is listening quite plainly that neither has forgotten their disagreement of the night before.

The sound of the loud bell from downstairs is followed at once by the cacophony of screams and wails that come associated with Mrs Black portrait. "I keep telling them not to ring the doorbell!" says Sirius exasperatedly, hurrying out of the room. He thunders down the stairs as Mrs. Black's screeches echo up through the house once more.

"Stains, of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth…!"

After a few minutes of struggle and a whole book of insults thrown at each other Sirius manages to shut the curtains over the portrait. He walks down the hall to the main door, and starts unlocking all the devices that have been placed on the door. He opens it forcefully to reveal Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Hestia's just relieved me, so she's got Moody's Cloak now, thought I'd leave a report for Dumbledore…" Sirius nods absentmindedly.

"Yes, yes, come in."

Kingsley is lead to the parlour close to the front door in the ground floor, they shouldn't be disturbed by anyone. They are there until midday, talking and discussing Order business. Basically it involves putting Sirius up to date with all the progress, or lack of it, so he may tell Dumbledore when he comes around. That and telling him every time someone will not be able to make it to a watch so he may reschedule the roosters, or hunt for an available substitute in a short amount of time. Then the doorbell rings again, and the shrieks of Mrs Black fill the house with all their disagreeable nature.

"I'm going to see who I have to strangle this time." mutters Sirius as a farewell to Shakebolt, and he heads towards the hall, followed by the black man. After shutting the old hag down yet again, Sirius opens the door; and comes to face Mundungus carrying a big pile of cauldrons.

"Hi" says the short man as he leaves the cauldrons on the floor. Sirius closes the door behind him silently. "Thank you for lettin'me pass."

"What do you want Dung?" asks Sirius tiredly. The man fidgets with his robes.

"I was wonderin' if I could leave 'ese trinkets 'ere. Only for a day or two…" they can hear stomping on the kitchen stairs.

"We are not running a hideout for stolen goods!" yells Molly as she heads towards Mundungus, like a bull upon seeing a red rag. "This is incredible! Your behaviour is completely irresponsible, as if we haven't got enough to worry about without you dragging stolen cauldrons into the house!" Mrs Weasley's shrieks awaken Mrs Black, but they all seem to ignore them for the moment.

"Molly, it'll be jus' a coupa' days!" they can hear the banging of a door upstairs and loud footsteps echo coming down the main staircase.

"What on earth is this racket?!" says Regulus as he appears in the hall. He's showed up because they aren't being precisely quiet. But before Molly's had the chance to start her campaign and plead her case against Mundungus, Regulus notices the man himself and the stolen goods, and his face hardens. "Get those out of this house."

He says authoritatively, motioning to the cauldrons. He, unlike Molly, isn't yelling, his voice hasn't raised a notch, but his face is cold, inexpressive and his eyes shoot off venom. Mundungus looks up to Sirius looking for support, and he simply shrugs. He is not interfering, clearly. The shrieks of the portrait are the only noise to be heard.

"Really, it'll be jus' a coupla'…"

"Out of my house." says as he points to the door.

"No need to, mate, really, I jus'…"

"Get out!" and then turns to his brother. "For Merlin's Beard Sirius, help me here!" Sirius shrugs.

"It's you the one who's bothered by it." Regulus then turns back to Mundungus who stands still, trying bring his case forth.

"Please, jus' 'til…"

"I said out of this house!" his voice raising as they have never heard him do before. Even Molly looks surprised. Well, Sirius doesn't but he is his brother after all. Mundungus moves hesitantly towards the door and starts picking his stuff up, but it is clearly not fast enough. "Now!"

Mundungus leaves the house reluctantly. Once he has left the only remaining noise Mrs Black's shrieks.

"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…" all Sirius does is ignore her for once and heads towards the stairs.

"Hey! What about mother?" asks Regulus. Sirius turns around.

"What do you mean; 'What about mother'?" he says in a foul mood. "You woke her up, now you shut her up." and he returns to the drawing room, leaving to his brother the task, in which he obviously succeeds because only minutes later the yelling comes to a halt.

::::::::::::::

Sirius stands on the door frame and looks at the children. They are joking among them, clearly not doing what they've been appointed to anymore and totally unaware of his presence.

Their attention has been turned to the tapestry that occupies the entire north wall. It is immensely old, it is faded and the Doxys had gnawed it in places. Nevertheless, the golden thread with which it is embroidered still glints brightly enough to show proudly a sprawling family tree dating back to the Middle Ages, which he, having a good eyesight, can even faintly trace the outlines from afar. The large words at the very top of the tapestry read: The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Toujours pur. He has not seen nor paid attention to that particular family relic in a long, long time.

"Wow" says George as Harry and the others get closer to it.

"Couldn't have said it better" adds Fred.

"Who wants a family tree?" says Ron "It's good for nothing" he can, from the door and with her back turned, feel Hermione roll her eyes, and she's probably about to answer him but Harry talks first.

"Sirius is not on there!" says with his gaze fixed on the tapestry.

"I used to be there." says Sirius finally, walking into the room. The children jump and turn towards him, surprised, he walks across the room to where the tapestry hangs the length of the wall. "There." he repeats pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home."

"You ran away from home?" asks Harry disbelieving.

"When I was about sixteen." says Sirius. "I'd had enough."

"Where did you go?" asks Harry, staring at him.

"Your dad's place." says Sirius. "Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's in the school holidays, and when I was seventeen I got a place of my own. My Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold… he's been wiped off here, too, that's probably why… anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr. and Mrs. Potter's for Sunday lunch, though."

"But… why did you…?"

"Leave?" Sirius smiles bitterly and runs his fingers through his long hair, which has come loose, again. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal… my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them… that's him. "Sirius jabs a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at the name 'Regulus Black'. A date of birth, followed the date of death, some fifteen years previously. The children look surprised at the second one. They looked up at Sirius almost immediately. "He is younger than me" says Sirius "and was always a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."

"But he didn't die." says Harry pointing to the dates below the name.

"Well, of course, but that's a long story." says Sirius.

"We have time for long stories" says Hermione, curious as she is; she always wants to know everything.

"All this started almost seventeen years ago" says slowly. "stupid idiot… when he joined the Death Eaters."

"You're kidding!" says Harry shell-shocked. "It can't be true! A Death Eater?"

"Come on, Harry, haven't you seen enough of this house to tell what kind of wizards my family were?" says Sirius testily.

"Were, were your parents Death Eaters as well?"

"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the wizarding race, getting rid of Muggleborns and having purebloods in charge. They weren't alone, either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colours, who thought he had the right idea about things… they got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."

"If he was a Death Eater, how come he's here, at the Order Headquarters?"

"As I said, he was always a fool, and arrogant and overbearing as well. He got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."

"Then, how did he survive?" asks Hermione.

"He came back, crawling and begging for forgiveness and help. And I wanted to give him a hand, a hand to his neck." he mumbles. "I helped him, but that was a long ago. He offered information in exchange." adds more quietly. "The tapestry was fooled, and the Death Eaters too."

"But… a real Death Eater?" asks Harry still surprised. Sirius does one of his bark-like laughs.

"Yes. Have you ever wondered why he never rolls up his sleeves?" Harry looks at him oddly.

"Because he has the Dark Mark?" answers Hermione instead of Harry. Sirius shakes his head.

"Let's put it another way… Have you ever wondered why he barely uses his left hand?" Harry shrugs.

"Because… he has the Mark?" he answers tentatively.

"No, because he doesn't have the mark anymore rather, of course that he doesn't have half the arm either." adds as he tilts his head sideways. Harry makes a face. "Yes, it is rather disgusting."

"Lunch!" calls Mrs. Weasley's voice.

She is holding her wand high in front of her, balancing a huge tray loaded with sandwiches and cake on its tip. She is very red in the face and still looked angry over the confrontation with Mundungus. The children move over to her, but Harry remains with Sirius, who bends closer to the tapestry, examining it.

"I haven't looked at this for years. There's Phineas Nigellus… my great-great-grandfather, see?… least popular Headmaster Hogwarts ever had… and Araminta Meliflua… cousin of my mother's… tried to force through a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal… and dear Aunt Elladora… she started the family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays… of course, any time the family produced someone halfway decent they were disowned. I see Tonks isn't on here."

"You and Tonks are related?" Harry asks, surprised but at the same time pleased.

"Oh, yeah, her mother Andromeda was my favourite cousin." says Sirius, examining the tapestry closely. "No, Andromeda's not on here either, look…"

He points to another small round burn mark between two notorious names, Bellatrix and Narcissa.

"Andromeda's sisters are still here because they made lovely, respectable pureblood marriages, but Andromeda married a Muggleborn, Ted Tonks, so…" Sirius mimes blasting the tapestry with a wand and laughs sourly. A double line of gold embroidery links Narcissa Black with Lucius Malfoy, and a single vertical gold line from their names leads to the name Draco.

"You're related to the Malfoys!" Harry explains.

"The pureblood families are all interrelated." says Sirius. "If you're only going to let your sons and daughters marry purebloods your choice is very limited; there are hardly any of us left. Molly and I are cousins by marriage and Arthur's something like my second cousin once removed. But there's no point looking for them on here, if ever a family was a bunch of blood traitors it's the Weasleys.

"Lestrange…" Harry says aloud, looking at the name beside where Andromeda should be.

"They're in Azkaban." says Sirius shortly. Harry looks at him curiously. "Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus came in with Barty Crouch junior," says Sirius, in the same brusque voice. "Rodolphus's brother Rabastan was with them, too."

"You never said she was your…"

"Does it matter if she's my cousin?" snaps Sirius. "As far as I'm concerned, they're not my family. She's certainly not my family. I haven't seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming into Azkaban. Do you think I'm proud of having a relative like her?"

"Sorry," says Harry quickly, "I didn't mean, I was just surprised, that's all…"

"It doesn't matter, don't apologise," Sirius mumbles. He turns away from the tapestry. "I don't like being back here," he says, staring across the drawing room. "I never thought I'd be stuck in this house again. It's ideal for Headquarters, of course…" Sirius says. "My father put every security measure known to wizardkind on it when he lived here. It's unplottable, so Muggles could never come and call… as if they'd ever have wanted to. And now Dumbledore's added his protection, you'd be hard put to find a safer house anywhere. Dumbledore is Secret Keeper for the Order, you know, nobody can find Headquarters unless he tells them personally where it is, that note Moody showed you last night, that was from Dumbledore…" Sirius gives a short, bark-like laugh. "If my parents could see the use their house was being put to now… well, my mother's portrait should give you some idea." He scowls for a moment, then sighs. "I wouldn't mind if I could just get out occasionally and do something useful. I've asked Dumbledore whether I can escort you to your hearing, as Snuffles, obviously, so I can give you a bit of moral support, what do you think? Don't worry…" Sirius says when he notices his concern. "I'm sure they'll clear you; it is specified in the International Statute of Secrecy that you're allowed to use magic to save your own life."

"But if they do expel me," says Harry quietly and worriedly, "can I come back here and live with you?"

"We'll see." says Sirius smiling sadly, not having the courage to deny him outright.

"I'd feel a lot better about the hearing if I knew I didn't have to go back to the Dursley's" Harry presses.

"They must be bad if you prefer this place," says Sirius gloomily.

"Hurry up, you two, or there won't be any food left," Mrs. Weasley calls.

Sirius heaves another great sigh, casts a dark look at the tapestry, and then he and Harry go to join the others. After the brief lunch, they go back to their cleaning tasks. It is a job that requires a lot of concentration, as many of the objects in there seem very reluctant to leave their dusty shelves.

Sirius cleans through the various trinkets with his usual viciousness. He waves the long wand in harsh sharp moves as he forces the various objects to leaves their places. He is removing a specially packed shelf when he feels pain shoot up his right arm, as diminutive steel teeth sink into the skin of the back of his hand. He curses under his breath as he pries the silver snuffbox open. It is bad bite and within seconds his bitten hand develops an unpleasant crusty covering like a tough brown glove.

"It's OK," he says, examining the hand with interest before tapping it lightly with his wand and restoring its skin back to normal, "must be Wartcap powder in there." He throws the box aside into the sack where they are depositing the debris from the cabinets, and Mundungus will probably steal later on. Although this time it is George who smuggles it out of the room.

Sometime after the incident with the Wartcap powder Regulus appears briefly, with the excuse of checking something or other, and spends around half an hour taking trinkets out of the cabinets, looking closely at them and placing them back in their place as dirty as they had been before. Sirius looks intently at him once or twice, feeling the mixed reaction of increasing amusement and rising temper.

"You know Regulus, cleaning usually consist in removing an object, removing the dust from said object and placing it back where it belongs, and you are missing the dusting part."

"You generally miss the placing it back part." Regulus answers testily. But soon after, when he tries to leave he is less than gently held up by Sirius, reminding him of his appointment with the feather-duster.

"Regulus! You stay and clean!" yells Sirius across the room as his brother heads towards the door.

"Sorry, I've got a lame arm!" says the younger one without even stopping to look back. Sirius follows him and catches up with him by the door.

"The only thing you have that it's lame is your excuse." he says holding his shoulder in a tight bruising grip. And seeing no way out he stays, always under the distrustful gaze of Harry and the Weasley brood, who can't quite forget what Sirius just told them. He was a Death Eater. Somehow, Harry at least seems to arrive to the conclusion that if Sirius trusts him to a point, so will he.

They find an unpleasant-looking silver instrument, something like a many-legged pair of tweezers, which scuttle up Harry's arm like a spider when he picks it up, and attempts to puncture his skin. Sirius, seeing it happen, seizes it and smashes it quickly and precisely with a heavy book entitled Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy.

"Look!" says Sirius in a very loud, almost playful tone. "I just found a real use for the Wizarding Genealogy!"

"Really, besides furnishing mothers with fodder for memorization exercises?" Regulus seems remotely interested. The fact is that they both know that book by heart sine a very early age. Which is a lamentable waste of space.

They also find a musical box that emits a faintly sinister, tinkling tune when wound, and they all find themselves becoming curiously weak and sleepy, until Ginny, who is the closest, has the sense to slam the lid shut. A number of ancient seals have been gathering dust in their boxes; and in another dusty box lingers an Order of Merlin, First Class, that had been awarded to Sirius's grandfather for 'services to the Ministry'.

"It means he gave them a load of gold," says Sirius contemptuously, throwing the medal into the rubbish sack. Regulus sighs as he watches him do that.

"Really Sirius, I don't see the reason for your impulsive need of ransacking this house!" he pronounces exasperated, he has been trying to stop his brother from throwing out everything short of the beds. Sirius looks at him contemptuously too, his raised eyebrow flying high. "These objects have a history, and whether you like it or not, it is our history. Will you please, stop throwing everything just because?" Sirius makes a show of ignoring him, but doesn't stop him from removing the plaque from the sack.

It does become harder to throw things out with his brother near, because he prefers to clean things rather than throw them away. Several times Regulus has to remove something from the improvised bin. When Sirius throws a large golden ring bearing the Black crest, Regulus seems to be about to have a seizure, and muttering under his breath removes it and gives it back Sirius. The taller man looks at him carefully.

The ring is gold and ancient; it is a big regal-looking seal too. The top, engraved with the crest is made of dark lapislazuli stone and has two small diamonds where the stars of the crest should be. Over the rim, symbols and runic numbers cover a small joint that it shows the ring opens over itself.

"It's yours Sirius." says Regulus. "Besides, it is the seal of the archives too, remember?" Sirius sighs when he places it in his poked.

"It was our father's," explains Sirius to Harry, as he throws another trinket at the bin, quietly. "He seems quite fond of all this trinkets, seems like he suddenly adores father." Ron looks at the younger brother with a funny face.

"It wasn't only father's!" says Regulus from across the room. "It was grandfather's, and great-grandfather's, and great-great-grandfather's before him…"

"I get the idea, don't worry. I think it is called it being hereditary; or a family heirloom, whatever you prefer." snaps Sirius.

"It sounds a bit like Malfoy." comments the red-headed when Regulus is turned around, Harry nods deep in thought. Sirius only chuckles humourlessly.

"Sharing a room with Malfoy for a time would have that effect on some people." he says this extremely loud, so everyone hears it, his brother too. Regulus rolls his eyes.

"I did not share a room with him!" says the younger brother in exasperation. "Dorms are usually for five people, and besides that there is that an age gap of six years wouldn't make it precisely easy for us to share!" from his tone of voice only you can safely assume that he doesn't like Malfoy either.

"I was a Gryffindor!" says Sirius in an indignant tone. "What I'm supposed to know about Slytherin's organization?" Regulus turns to face his brother.

"For God's sake! The same as everywhere else! I was in Slytherin not in an orgy!" the twins find themselves rolling around in laughter, as the little ones snicker. Sirius smirks.

"One might assume." - Regulus turns around to face him and feels confronted by the mocking smile Sirius is giving him, so he throws the cleaning rag to his face and strides energetically out of the room.

"I hate you!" says as he exits the room. "I hate you so much!" Molly is looking at the place were Regulus used to be astonished, and Harry, Hermione and Ron are looking a bit worried. On the other hand, the twins are having trouble breathing as they are in gales of laughter.

"Well, that is affection around here." he comments sourly before going back to cleaning.

"Do you think that if I leave like he did I'll get out of cleaning duty?" whispers Fred to George's ear, unfortunately Sirius does hear. He comes up from their back and looms over them.

"No, because the only reason I'm not forcing him to clean is because now I have no one stopping me from throwing anything." says in a conspiring whisper. At the same time he throws an aged and sealed diploma over his shoulder to land neatly in the sack.

"Your brother was in Slytherin?" says Ron, looking rather green. Sirius laughs.

"Yes, of course, like the entire family." he says nonchalantly.

"So, he's pretty much like Snape? A Slytherin, a Death Eater and a desertor…" asks Harry innocently.

"No. The main difference is that Snape must go back to Voldemort, and Regulus can't. They hate him more than me! I'm a blood traitor, he's merely traitor to the cause, which is ironically worse. I deserve death, he apparently deserves a painful death." says Sirius.

"Ok, I get the idea."

"Just a tip." Sirius tells him winking at him. "It's not wise to compare people with Snape, they might take offense."

::::::::::::::

They spend the following days working and cleaning the old rooms, trying to remove the dust of almost a decade from the shelves. The drawing room takes three days to decontaminate completely. Finally, the only undesirable things left in it are the tapestry of the Black family tree, which after some yelling between the brothers, Regulus had managed to convince Sirius it wasn't completely necessary to remove, and the rattling writing desk. Moody had not dropped by Headquarters yet, so they could not be sure what was inside it. As for the tapestry, as apparently there is another Permanent Sticking Charm to it, trying to take it down is useless either way.

They move from the drawing room to a small dining room on the ground floor where they find spiders as large as saucers lurking in the dresser. Ron, Sirius notices amusedly, promptly leaves the room to make a cup of tea and does not return for an hour and a half. The china in the room, despite Sirius' best efforts to get rid of it, is polished and replaced. It is an enormous collection of all kind of sets of dishes, silverware glassware and crystal, all bearing the Black crest and motto in various styles and designs favoured at different points of the family history.

They also find scattered all over the house old photographs, their silver frames tarnished, that Regulus collects and places in a box, after removing the frames, that is kept locked under key in his room; the only way of keeping Sirius from throwing them. Some of the pictures are almost a century old, others, because Regulus remembers them, are around sixty to twenty years old, and are those of their parents and uncles.

In truth what they do is not cleaning, it is a waging war on the house, which is putting up a very good fight. A lot of times the twins complain about having no house elf. Once Sirius hears them and bursts out laughing. They look at him oddly.

"Of course the house had domestic elf, who would clean a house like this on it's own?" and after another bark-like laugh, he adds. "He was the bane of my existence as a child; he died sixteen years ago, around the time Regulus 'died'. I suppose that after that, mother would have brought an elf of some other property to Grimmauld place, but it must have left after she died."

::::::::::::::

The doorbell rings almost constantly these days which is the cue for Sirius's mother to start shrieking again. Snape flits in and out of the house several times and Sirius does his best to avoid coming face to face, at risk of strangling him.

One night, after Snape dropped by that same afternoon, just before dinner Regulus Black enters the crowded kitchen vomiting insults and cursing under his breath, looking more than slightly mad. This causes Molly to look at him warily, but she had the common sense to say nothing. Sirius, on the other hand was slightly amused.

"The slimy bastard… greasy git." the insult volley causes Molly to almost have fit. "Now I know why he has such a big nose, to compensate for his lack of brains, otherwise, he wouldn't be able to balance himself long enough to walk!"

Hushed snickers can be heard in the kitchen. Most of them don't like him, and share his opinion. Although most would've thou thought they would get on well with Snape, with all their apparent common background, and obviously he doesn't.

"I swear…" says Regulus as he sits in front of his brother. "If he calls me crippled one more time I'm going to hex him so badly, he'll end up in St Mungo unable to remember his name."

"Who's he talking about?" asks Harry to Ron whispering, but it is Regulus the one to answer.

"Snape." his voice is filled with old loathing. "If he calls me that one more time I swear I'll smack his face so hard he'll have to pull the toothbrush up his arse to clean his teeth." a few scattered laughs can be heard.

"He hasn't got enough throwing hints during the meetings, now he has to make me loose my time to throw stupid insinuations of what he doesn't know!" he says hotly. "The only one that'll be crippled is him once I have removed that mountain that he calls nose with a spoon."

"Wouldn't be better to do it with an axe?" asks Arthur, a little amused at the young's man rant.

"No. Spoons do not have a blade." Sirius points out. "Therefore it will hurt more."

"There are a few things I still can do with a bad hand, like poking someone's eyes out with it." he continues. Molly Weasley gives him a disapproving look as she serves dinner. "And somehow he tends to forget that I still have a good arm ready to strangle him single-handedly." says as he starts eating. But he is so mad that tries to stab a piece of meat with the fork, the result of which is having half the sauce out of the plate. Sirius smirks.

"I think you should calm down." He says, not even blinking. Regulus nods balefully and breaths deeply once or twice. "Your table manners are going down the drain."

The younger Black spends the entire dinner silent, he doesn't looks at anyone. Rather difficult considering he would never eat with his head deep in his plate; and that is the only way someone with his height could avoid meeting anyone's eyes. After dinner, though, he rejoins the conversation again. Of course, the fact that Lupin is mocking Snape has nothing to do with it.

"Were not for Dumbledore, I would kill him with my own hands." says Sirius.

"But you wouldn't want to leave the students without such a great teacher as Professor Snape." comments Lupin teasinglywryly, earning himself the complaints from the children expressing their desire of getting rid of their current potions professor loudly.

"I would even teach the little parasites myself…" puts in Regulus, who let's face it has never been extremely predisposed towards children "…if by doing so I was allowed to kill Snape." Sirius sniggers.

"Hey, you could always take the Defence Against the Dark Arts class." suggests the older brother. "Of course that it wouldn't be defence against the Dark Arts if you taught that." Regulus ignores him.

"Do you think I have suicidal intentions? I wouldn't take that job in a thousand years." he responds instead. "It's a cursed position since forever."

"Not all the teachers of DADA have died." says Tonks.

"All but Remus apparently. And that is because he isn't human." says the younger brother.

"I'll take that as a compliment." says Remus amused.

"It wasn't an insult, I was being merely descriptive." corrects Regulus.

"Moody hasn't died either." stated Sirius.

"And he didn't even set a foot in a classroom." he says. "because being locked in your own trunk is that much better…"

"Lockhart is alive." someone says.

"Yes, and he lost all his memories." puts in Ron. Then the conversation deviates further into all the DADA teachers the concurrence can remember, and some they can't and their respective fates, so when the evening's over Regulus is in a fairly good mood. It doesn't mean he doesn't keep plotting against Snape in his idle moments.

Sometimes, however, the visitors stay to help. Tonks joins them for a memorable afternoon in which they find a murderous old ghoul lurking in an upstairs toilet, so out of way that nobody had taken notice before. She manages to kick it out in quite a record time, as apparently they had one settle in her parent's house some years back. Lupin, who often leaves for long periods to do Order work, helps them repair a grandfather clock that had developed the unpleasant habit of shooting heavy bolts at passers-by. It starts while the children are nearby and they have to run for it. Sirius proclaims loudly that clumsy as Regulus is, he would never be able fix it. As for himself, he complains and curses when his borrowed wand doesn't quite behave and gives him trouble with a couple of complicated spells, so he steps out of the way and let Remus have a go at it when he was halfway trough. Mundungus redeems himself slightly in Mrs. Weasley's eyes by rescuing Ron from an ancient set of purple robes that try to strangle him when he removes them from their wardrobe.

And in the meantime the whole house is tensely holding its breath.