The next morning, Hermione was shaken awake several hours earlier than she would have liked by Ginny Weasley, who beamed at her and plopped down at the foot of the bed. Crookshanks leapt into her lap, purring.

"You look exhausted."

"I am," Hermione yawned, stretching and then slumping back against her pillows. "What time is it?"

"Eight," Ginny said, scratching Crookshanks at the base of his tail. "I had to wake you though, breakfast is going to be on the table any minute."

"You should have gotten me up earlier, I would have helped," Hermione said reprovingly.

Ginny shrugged. "You needed the rest, you just got here. How was your first week of the holiday?"

"Uneventful. I just read and played with Crookshanks and waited for Kingsley to come get me. It's a bit funny, really, I'd told them someone from the Order was going to take me and I think they expected someone like Dumbledore, you know. But he had on a pinstriped suit."

"Yeah, I think Dad wants lessons from him," Ginny chortled. "But he'll be back tomorrow night, that's when the next big meeting is. You'll get to hear what's going on for the first time."

"Everyone's using Extendable Ears, then?" Hermione sniffed.

"Yes, Hermione," Ginny said patiently, scratching Crookshanks' ears, "and they're brilliant, just wait and see. I'd think that you of all people would care about what's happening, with Harry still stuck in Little Whinging –"

"Of course I care," said Hermione, hurt. "But your Mum's been so nice, inviting me to stay, and I hate to think I'm abusing her trust..."

"I know what you mean, but it's for the greater good Hermione," Ginny said wisely. "She still thinks we're children. This is our fight too, we deserve to know what's happening. And I'm worried about Harry... he's probably going mad under lock and key up there..."

"I know he is. He sent me Hedwig last Saturday asking for information and I just don't know if I should say anything –"

"I'd wait 'til you get a chance to talk to Dumbledore. He'll know what to do."

"All right," Hermione said, rather distressed. "I just hate keeping him in the dark, Ginny, it's not fair."

"Trust me, I understand," she said sadly. "But come on, let's go before the eggs get cold and Mum swoops down on us..."

They trooped into the basement kitchen ten minutes later, where an assortment of people was clustered around a scrubbed wooden table. Sirius and Lupin both stood up, smiling, and shook Hermione's hand in greeting.

"Got a few people for you to meet," Lupin said, gesturing to a dark-haired witch on his left. "This is Hestia Jones... Hestia, this is Hermione..."

"Nice to meet you," said Hestia Jones, grasping Hermione's hand warmly. "We've heard a lot about you from the Weasleys."

Hermione smiled back and turned to the witch on Lupin's right, who had bounced out of her chair excitedly.

"Wotcher, Hermione," she said, grinning. Her face was heart-shaped and cheerful under a shockingly pink head of hair.

"Hermione, this is Tonks," Lupin said. "She's an Auror."

"An Auror?" Hermione said admiringly, shaking Tonks' hand as well. "That's brilliant."

Tonks blushed.

"And of course you already know Professor McGonagall."

Hermione gave a little jump of surprise, noticing for the first time the witch at the head of the table. "Oh! Hello, Professor."

"Good morning Miss Granger," said McGonagall briskly. "Very nice to see you. And Remus," she continued, peering down at her newspaper, "how many times do I have to tell you? You can call me Minerva now. It's alright, I won't put you in detention."

It was Lupin's turn to blush.

"Old habits die hard you know," McGonagall said to Hermione, who though she spotted a twinkle in her eyes behind her square spectacles.

Hermione and Ginny grinned. Hermione sat down next to Tonks, who pushed a cup of tea towards her.

McGonagall tutted, closed the Daily Prophet with a snapping of paper, and stood up to her full height and pulled on her cloak. "This," she said, pointing at it with distaste, "is utter rubbish. If I read one more slip implying that Potter is some kind of – some kind of convict –"

Sirius put his hand to his heart, looking wounded. "What's wrong with convicts?"

McGonagall tutted again, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

"That's what they're doing?" Hermione said weakly, putting her tea down. "They're making him into... into some kind of maniac?"

"I'm afraid so, Miss Granger," said McGonagall in clipped tones. "What I wouldn't give to turn Fudge into a flobberworm. Or perhaps a Sneakoscope, then he might be of use to someone..."

"I think we'd all support you in that, Prof– I mean, Minerva," Sirius said hastily.

"Yes," said McGonagall tartly. "Sadly, Dumbledore won't allow it. In any case, I'm on guard duty for the morning, so good day to you all."

And in a swirl of tartan, she strode out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the main hall. They heard her Disapparate just outside the front door with a loud crack.

"What a woman," said Sirius wonderingly, while everyone else laughed.

CRACK.

"Damn, did we miss her?" Fred said disappointedly, looking around. "I like to hear her talk about the Ministry officials..."

George, spotting Hermione's tea that she'd spilt all over the table, shook his head. "You're supposed to drink it, Hermione."

"I was," she said angrily, "'til the two of you made me jump –"

"It's fine," Fred said, waving his wand. The tea on the table vanished. He directed his wand at her teacup.

"D'you want milk in it?"

She scowled at him.

"What?" he said indignantly.

"Yes," she said, crossing her arms. "I would. But just a little. And one spoon of sugar."

He twitched his wand and a stream of dark toffee-colored liquid streamed from the tip, arcing across and room and splashing neatly into the cup.

Hermione uncrossed her arms in spite of herself and pulled it towards her as Fred stowed his wand in his back pocket and rubbed his hands together.

"So? What's happening today? Anything exciting for you lot?" he asked the adults.

"I've actually got to go to work," Tonks said dully, pushing her chair back. "I'd rather stay here, but duty calls, you know..."

"I'd be happy to switch," Sirius said glumly. "I'll go hunt Death Eaters for the day and you can get rid of the pixie infestation in the upstairs bedroom and dust all the crystal –"

"Yes, Scrimgeour would love that. I'm sure you'd be a great help to the Ministry," said Tonks, standing up and stretching. "They're desperate for any news on Sirius Black's whereabouts, you see, anyone at all with information is encouraged to come forward – oh no, sorry!"

In swinging her cloak around to put it on, she'd knocked over Hermione's tea again.

"I'm really sorry Hermione," Tonks said despairingly, rummaging in the folds of her robes for her wand. "I'm a bit of a barmpot, the rest of them can tell you..."

"It's okay," Hermione reassured her, gingerly righting the now-empty cup as Tonks hovered apologetically. "Really, it's fine, don't worry about it."

Fred dropped into the seat next to Hermione that Tonks had just vacated and once again directed his wand at the table. The tea vanished from the wood, and with another flick, he filled Hermione's cup again.

"Oh, I wanted to do that, Fred!"

"Dora, stop fretting, it's alright," said Hestia, who also rose. "I should really be going too, I expect Alastor'll murder me if I'm late again. I'll go out with you."

"Alright," Tonks said despairingly. "You can make sure I don't knock over the umbrella stand, anyhow... Goodbye, everyone."

There was a chorus of farewells and Tonks and Hestia left the way McGonagall had gone.

"Well, that wasn't much of a visit," said Lupin, looking slightly abashed. "I had hoped they would have been able to stay and talk... but you know," he said, smiling wanly at Ginny and Hermione, "we need our women more desperately than ever in these troubled times."

Sirius nodded assent and gloomily buttered himself a piece of toast.

"Anyway," George said brightly, sitting down next to Ginny and helping himself to some toast as well, "Sirius, mate, did you say there's a pixie nest upstairs?"

"Yes, and I think your mother wants you to clear it out this morning. I'd take these two with you," he indicated Hermione and Ginny. "It's tricky work, pixie catching."

"Oh, I know," Hermione said darkly, sipping her tea. She had to admit it was exactly how she liked it. "Harry, Ron, and I had to recapture a whole roomful of them a couple years ago. It took ages, and it was maddening."

"You'll be an expert then," Fred told her. "Where is Mum, anyway?"

"Oh, she went to Diagon Alley as soon as she'd finished making breakfast," Lupin said. "I don't know what for, but some kind of cleaning supplies, I'd imagine... she said yesterday she needed to get some doxy spray."

"We need some Mrs. Skower's Mess Remover as well, so Hermione can put her things away. Her dresser still has slug slime all over it," Fred said thoughtfully. "I hope Mum remembers. If she doesn't, we can always go get some tomorrow..."

"Oh, that's alright," Hermione said quickly. "I can just keep it all in the bag, I don't mind."

"Don't be silly," Fred said airily. "We'll take care of it."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Sirius said, glancing at her. "I know it's not the most hospitable place to spend your summer."

"Oh no!" she said earnestly, putting down her cup. "No, Sirius, I'm glad to be here, I want to help."

He smiled at her gratefully but she still thought he looked rather pained, as if it cost him a conscious effort.

"Remus," George said conscientiously, "have a bit of toast or something. You look like you haven't had a good meal in a couple of moons."

"George!" Ginny said reproachfully, "don't –"

"No, it's alright, Ginny," Lupin said, smiling slightly. "You're right George, I haven't. But I've looked worse. And I'll pass on the toast, I'm, ah –" he grimaced, "on a bit of a diet at the moment."

"Diet?"

"Red meat," Lupin said, smiling weakly. "Very red. It's not exactly appetizing, but it's what's safest for now."

George, Fred, Ginny, and Hermione exchanged glances, but no one wanted to press the subject, so they finished breakfast in a companionable silence filled only by the munching of toast and the clinking of china.

"I tell you, Ron's lucky that Mum's not back yet," George yawned, setting down his napkin. "I wouldn't fancy the idea of her getting back and finding me having a lie-in."

"I'll get him up," Ginny declared. "Let's all head upstairs together, shall we?"

"Yeah, alright," Fred agreed. "Sirius, Remus, d'you need any help...?"

"We're fine here," Lupin said, waving them on. "We'll clean up, and then Snuffles here and I have plenty of things to discuss... catch up on, you know..."

"Blimey, neither of them look very happy, do they?" Fred observed as the four of them climbed the stairs. "I reckon they could do with some cheering up."

"Well you see, Fred," Ginny said very seriously, "the Dark Lord was reborn this past month, Lupin's being ostracized worse than ever, and Sirius can't leave the house even though his godson's in constant moral peril, so I'd expect you're able to see why they're not exactly chuffed."

"No, I have to say I don't see it," Fred mused while George roared with laughter.

"Don't," Hermione said, annoyed. "Don't, I know they're having a terrible time of it –"

"I know, Hermione," Fred said earnestly, "but if you don't try to laugh at the terrible parts too, there's not much of a point to laughing at all."

Hermione bit her lip. "I'm worried about the whole lot of them. What is it that they're guarding, anyway? On guard duty?"

"We're not sure," Ginny answered. "It might be an object, might be a place. We haven't heard them mention it on the Ears but maybe it'll come up tomorrow night."

They had reached the second landing, and Fred stopped in front of Hermione's door.

"Let's get your bag, shall we?"

"Oh, alright," Hermione agreed. "But I don't need to unpack everything, I'll keep a few things in my room."

"Just take out what you need and we'll take the rest up to our room."

"I'm going to rouse Ronald," Ginny announced, and marched across the landing to the door that snores were issuing from under.

When Hermione emerged from her room, having left a small pile of clothes on her bed, Ron was awake and upright, looking distinctly disgruntled and rumpled in his maroon pajamas.

"You d-i-i-idn't need to wake me up, Ginny," he yawned. "I was a-about to get up myself anyway."

"Humph. Right," Ginny snorted. "There's toast and eggs downstairs, when you've dressed."

Ron eyed them blearily. "What are you all doing then?"

"Clearing out a pixie infestation," Hermione answered. "I think the four of us can handle it if you'd like to avoid round two –"

"Bloody hell, I almost forgot," Ron said, closing his eyes reminiscently. "They hung Neville on the ceiling, didn't they?"

"Yes, they did."

Ron opened one eye a crack. "Quite a year that was, wasn't it?"

"Speak for yourself," snapped Ginny. "When Mum gets back you can clean out Hermione's dresser, Ron, there's slug slime on the wood."

"A-a-as long as I get some kippers first," Ron said, and shuffled back into his room. They heard the wardrobe open with a clunk, and Pigwidgeon twittering madly.

"Come on," said George, and they continued their ascent to the third floor.

The higher they went into the house the gloomier it got, and Hermione felt quite glad that she was staying relatively close to the ground level. The house seemed perpetrated with a kind of musty darkness that traveled right up the walls to the high ceilings.

"This is our room," Fred said, pointing. "And that one, across the hall, is where the pixies are. We should get started, let's just put your things away first, Hermione..."

Ginny and George started a lively argument about the best way to deal with the nest as Hermione followed Fred into a handsome room slightly larger than her own, with two beds instead of one and a chandelier that would have been spectacular if it wasn't so covered in dust.

"Cheery place, isn't it?" said Fred, seeing her looking around. "It's no wonder McGonagall is worried about Sirius, I know I wouldn't want to be trapped in here..."

"It's eerie," Hermione agreed timidly.

The wardrobe was in the back left corner, next to one of the beds, and its mirrored doors bore the same recently cleaned look as the chandelier downstairs. Hermione gazed at their fuzzy reflections, Fred's hair looking especially flaming red in their washed-out surroundings before he swung it open with a creaky squeal.

"Here just hand me your bag – I'll put your things in these two bottom drawers here – no slug slime to speak of, as far as I know, anyway."

"Fred," Hermione said, half disapproving, half worried.

"Only joking," Fred grinned, and took out the neat stacks of Hermione's robes one by one to layer tidily in the drawers.

As he arranged her things they fell into a silence that Hermione couldn't tell if she should interpret as comfortable or awkward, and in her determination to focus on something other than that, found herself watching his hands. They were solid but long-fingered, and several small burns could be seen, pink and shiny against the light dusting of freckles on his wrists. He had a scrape on one of his knuckles, and she could see the tendons under the skin tighten slightly as he creased one of the folds in her robes.

Hermione very much forgot what she was doing and so when he turned and stood up with the now empty bag in his hands, she didn't move quickly enough, and they bumped into each other. To her consternation, she could feel a flush creeping up her face.

"Oh – I – sorry –"

Fred just chuckled as she leapt backwards. "Really, Hermione, you're as bad as Tonks."

She made an indignant noise, hoping her cheeks weren't pink. "I'm not usually clumsy, and you're the one that bumped into me –"

"Clumsy?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "I just meant don't apologize."

She looked at him for a moment with her mouth slightly open, swallowing the rest of her scolding, and Fred grinned broadly and slipped past her.

She huffed again but followed him, smiling in spite of herself, and wondering if pixie-catching may not be as maddening the second time around, all things considered.