A/N: Response to Nanettez: I can't believe I missed that! Thank you for pointing it out. Chapter 7 has been updated.
Here's chapter 8, hope you all enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
Chapter 8: The Noble House of Black
The reading of Peverell's notes is certainly not for the faint of heart. Navigating all of them is going to take the Order some time to do. And recreating his very precise and lengthy ritual base will be tricky. Many Oder members sent their kudos to James and Lily for executing it correctly. And the couple gave tips and critiques whenever they could. But a lot of their success was owed to the desperation-called adrenaline that presented itself during their attempts.
The ritual related matters will all be discussed at Hogwarts (at least until the students arrive), and the other important subjects are talked through at Grimmauld place.
"The Ministry of Magic is — in my opinion — inadequately protected. I suspect the only reason Voldemort has not already infiltrated it is so that he can take advantage of the general public's unawareness of his return. Therefore, we must take it upon ourselves to guard the prophecy that Voldemort is after in the Department of Mysteries. We will arrange shifts, and all of this, of course, has to be done in secret," Dumbledore concludes.
The Order meeting ends after they've worked out a schedule. Molly calls the kids down for dinner. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fred, and George stumble moodily down the stairs, having tried and failed to listen in on the meeting due to a silencing charm. Dumbledore, and the other professors leave abruptly.
After dinner, Harry heads upstairs to shower. Later in bed, Harry falls into a rather peculiar dream involving an unfamiliar hallway and an oddly attracting door at its end.
The next day is like any other at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Everyone but the twins are in the living room, attentions on their own activities. Hermione chatting with Lily and Remus about various books in the Hogwarts library; Ginny being entertained by Tonks' creative, changing facial features; Sirius and James in mysteriously laughing and whispering about something; Arthur and Molly frowning at a copy of the Daily Prophet; and Harry losing to Ron in a chess match. The twins had stated that they were going to start trying to perfect the Extendable Ear charm to eavesdrop on Order meetings. At first, Hermione discouraged it, but as her curiosity eventually started to outweigh her high regard for the rules, she began to passively loosen the reigns on their actions.
"Mate, what's wrong with you? It's no fun beating you if you're not actually going to try," Ron says after Harry makes a particularly exposing move with his last remaining pawn.
"Sorry, just a little distracted by something," Harry mutters evasively.
Ron's then says, "Well, what is it?"
"It's silly. And probably nothing," Harry says insistently, stopping the conversation.
That's when the old House Elf appears in the living room. His ears drooping and his skin wrinkled. Sirius insisted that he stop hiding old family heirlooms in Sirius' mother's old bedroom and help with the daily cleaning they were doing, so the old elf walks slowly into the kitchen with his head down to do so. But, disgusted by the occupants of the living room, Kreacher mumbles in his low, bullfrog voice as he passes, "Oh, how if my mistress knew of the filth that her son has let into her house… mudbloods and blood-traitors, all of them." The current inhabitants of No. 12 Grimmauld Place had grown used to comments like this from Kreacher, who seems unaware that they can hear him.
But Sirius is having none of it, "Oh, shut up! No one here cares what my mother would think, she's long gone. Now get out of here and help us get this place spotless!"
Kreacher gives an extremely low bow and says, "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black." Hermione is horrified. Kreacher leaves the living room and she turns to Sirius.
"Sirius, you really shouldn't yell at him like that!"
"Just drop it, Hermione. Even you can't change my mind on this. He's absolutely vile, and I honestly have no idea why you're so adamant to defend him. You heard what he just said," Sirius argues.
"He's… not in his right mind. He doesn't really know what he's saying."
"He understands it perfectly. My parents made sure of that!"
The argument is interrupted by two sets of angry footsteps barreling down the stairs. The twins emerge carrying their overgrown hair in their arms. It stems from their heads, cheeks, arms, legs, and even the bottom of their feet, making them look similar to orange Hippogriffs. Sirius seems to forget his previous quarrel in a fit of laughter. Everyone else follows. Even Molly, who tries to conceal her laughter with her hand.
"Who found our packets of hair-growth powder?!" George asks.
"That would be us," James responds, placing a hand on Sirius' shoulder, "I wondered how long that was going to take. We sprinkled it on your beds."
The twins look at the two Marauders and back to each other over and over again, in sync. Until they finally say, "WE WERE PRANKED BY THE MARAUDERS!"
Lily walks through the hallways of Grimmauld Place, intending to talk with her new, bushy-haired friend. She arrives at Hermione and Ginny's room and softly knocks on their door.
"Come in." Lily hears Hermione's voice from the other side of the door. She opens it and isn't surprised to see Hermione with her head in a book. Oh, how she reminds me of me at that age.
"Hello, dear," Lily greets. She hears running water through the wall on the right side of the room and assumes that Ginny is in the shower. "I wanted to talk with you."
"About what?" Hermione asks, curiously looking up from her book.
"About your argument with Sirius, earlier today."
"Oh." Hermione says.
"I recognized that look you had in your eyes. I used to be the same way. Tell me, Hermione, how many times have you been called a mudblood by your fellow students?"
"I don't know, maybe two or three times."
"Ah, it's gotten better then," Lily says, pleased. "I'd gotten used to that word by my third year."
"I know that Sirius means well. And that he doesn't mean to offend me, but…" Hermione can't find the words to continue.
"I understand, Hermione. It's hard for young Muggle-borns out there."
"I wish I could make him understand like you do."
"Sirius will never understand completely, simply because he's a pure-blood wizard. He will try his very best because that's who he is. But he will never be able to fully comprehend the lives of Muggle-borns or House-elves. And in Sirius' mind, Kreacher is just a constant reminder of how horrible his parents were. And they were horrible."
"But that's no reason to-"
"I know, sweet girl. But don't give up on him yet. Sirius will come through when it counts."
"I don't know, maybe I should just drop this whole S.P.E.W. thing like Ron says."
"No, Hermione. I shut that part of myself off when I was your age and I really regret it. You don't want to look back on your life and ask, 'what if?'. It's young witches and wizards like you who are going to change the world for the better. And word to the wise: Sometimes adults take a while to truly accept the words of a child, no matter how important those words are. Just look at the Minister."
"Why don't you talk to him then?" Lily looks down, apprehensively, being quite familiar with Sirius' stubbornness. "Please, Lily? If what you say is true, Sirius might be more inclined to listen to you than me."
"Alright, I'll talk to him."
Later that night, Harry is again in a long corridor with the big door at the end of it, just calling at him, tampering with his thoughts. I have to get in. I must. He gets closer and closer, his curiosity trembling in the back of his head, demanding that he get it open. Until he shoots up in bed, with his scar prickling like it has been since summer started. He holds his forehead, growing tired of the nagging pain. He checks to see if he woke Ron and sighs with relief when he hears his friend's soft snores. He looks at an old clock on the wall that reads about two o'clock in the morning.
Knowing that he won't be getting any more sleep tonight, Harry walks down the steps of Grimmauld Place, needing to get out of his room. It seems as though Harry is trapped in every way. He can't hear what's been going on in Order meetings; he can't really leave Grimmauld place; he can't do anything about the disappearances that have started to show up in the Daily Prophet; He can't even go where he wants to in his dreams!
So, Harry walks down the stairs of Grimmauld place and sits down in the living room, just thinking.
"Harry?"
James emerges from the hallway. Looking concerned.
"Oh, hey dad," Harry says, "Did I wake you?"
"No, I was already up." James had had some trouble sleeping over the last couple of weeks. Stress has never agreed with him. "What's wrong, Prongslet?"
"Nothing, I'm fine. Just came down to think."
"About…" James probes, sitting down beside him. Harry sighs, not really knowing how to explain. "You can tell me anything, Harry. You've got to believe that."
Harry reluctantly starts to describe his dream, "…just a dark, brick hallway. At the end of it is this door with strange light coming from behind it. I can't seem to open it before I wake up," Harry explains the last part with an annoyed edge.
"That sounds like the Department of Mysteries entrance," James says, thoughtfully.
"The Department of Mysteries?"
"It's one of the departments in the Ministry. It's where… prophecies are stored," James explains.
"Prophecies… Like the one Professor Trelawney told me in third year," Harry reasons, his curiosity growing. "But why would I be dreaming about the Department of Mysteries?"
James looks at his son's questioning face and for a second, he wants to tell him everything that he knows about what Voldemort if after, but instead he says, "I'll bring it up with Dumbledore at the meeting tomorrow. Don't worry about it, Harry. Everything's going to be fine."
"Everyone keeps saying that, but how am I supposed to believe it when no one tells me anything about what's going on?" Harry says, straining to keep his voice down so as not to wake the others.
"I know you don't like being left in the dark, Harry, but this is the best way that we can keep you safe."
"I don't feel safe. I read about the disappearances every day in the Daily Prophet, and I see the Minister trying to pass it off as something less than it is. We're not going to be safe until Voldemort is dead. Having no idea what anyone's doing to stop this mass murderer isn't helping me. Why won't you just tell me?"
James takes a look into his son's eyes, the same as Lily's. He's never been good at saying no to those eyes. "We believe… that Voldemort is after a certain prophecy about you and him," a quick moment passes in which James makes the decision to lie. He still wants to preserve some of his child's innocence. "We don't know everything it says. But we think that because of this prophecy, that there may be some connection between you and Voldemort."
"A connection? Well… that would explain the dream," Harry takes a moment to ponder this notion. "So… I can see into Voldemort's mind. Can he see into mine?"
"Dumbledore suggested that if this gets bad enough, we may want to consider Occlumency, the shielding of one's mind from outside invasion," James explains, "But we don't think Voldemort actually knows about this connection yet."
"What happens when he finds out?"
"We don't know anything else right now, Prongslet," James says, sadly. Harry then gratefully buries his head in James' chest in an embrace.
"Thanks, dad."
"I love you, son."
"Love you, too."
A/N: And there's chapter 8. I hope you enjoyed! Chapter 9 will most likely be up either Saturday or Sunday. I'll let you guys know of any schedule changes. Be sure to remember to click that review button!