Disclaimer: Alas! Poor Chantelli, she owns not… just let me die!

Authors Note: Thank you to Sarista Black, Arashi Kaminari, Meg Erskine Frere Albatou, Paprika, Dragon Feather and L2L2 (aka Nessa) and to those who may have read and have yet to review… please review… feed back makes Telli a megalomaniac, have disillusions of grandeur and buy feather quill pens to write fan fiction with…

Chapter Four: Discontent

The carpet landed with a bounce, rattling all the occupants inside uncomfortably. Then with a snap the vibrant teal rug unrolled itself whipping Harry and his trunks, a screeching Hedwig, Snape and a grinning Weasley to opposite sides of the room and promptly went lax on the floor as if it were just another innocent muggle hearth rug.

"I thought the Ministry banned those things," scowled Snape who obviously didn't enjoy the ride pressed up against his least favorite student, and the rough landing which had left him with a sore rear and wind-wiped hair.

Arthur Weasley looked shortly at the potions master, " Well, since when does the Order follow the rules, nevertheless from a corrupt government? We couldn't risk Apperating and linking his house to the Floo Network would have drawn far too much attention. I got it from Abu- besides," grinned Arthur, with a signature Weasley smirk, " I enjoy indulging in my rebellious side."

Harry smiled from his place on the ground, brushing himself off- confused, woozy but still in one piece. At least he would have the Burrow to cheer him up. Harry looked around the surroundings. Snape was brushing himself off as if being in the carpet with Harry and Mr. Weasley had covered himself in the most unimaginable filth while Mr. Weasley proceeded to magically roll up the carpet and place in the corner. Harry paused- this wasn't the Burrow.

"Harry!" came a voice behind him.

All of a sudden Harry wished nothing more to be away from here, away from Black Manor. Away from his best friend who was standing behind him with a smile plastered on his face, eager to talk to him. Guilt suffocated him, closing in and threatening to engulf him in blackness. Harry plastered a smile on, not wanting to bring attention to himself and turned.

"Ron!" Harry grinned, gut wrenching under a mask of a cool facade. Did they actually expect him to be glad to come to his godfather's house? To be with his things, to be surrounded by his belongings- each of which reminded Harry of him- the very house smelt slightly like his aftershave Harry had become familiar of. To be content to live here, when he blamed himself for his godfather's death?

Harry's smile flickered, but Ron didn't seem to notice.

"Comeon mate, we're back in our old room again" he said, the proceeded to update Harry on all the happenings of the summer thus far in under a minute. "Hermione is coming tomorrow" he rambled, " Bill and Charlie keep flooing in – and Fred and George! You'll never guess… they were asked to join the Order! And they won't tell me a bloody thing about what's going on! I'm surprised they were allowed with the amount of trouble they cause. Ginny is furious! They won't say a thing about what their job is, but they like to whisper to each other constantly, acting like they're important- worse than the summer Percy made prefect…"

Harry was shocked, Fred and George were the biggest troublemakers at Hogwarts had seen since the Marauders- and they hadn't even stayed in seventh year to take their N.E.W.T.s- all be it because of last years Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and self-made Inquisitor.

'The Order must really need bodies to fill up the ranks then' mused Harry.

Ron lead Harry down the corridor to their room, keeping quiet as to not wake the portraits of the mistress of the house who was quiet prone to screaming.

When the last staircase was tiptoed, they entered their room where Ron chattered merrily away about Quidditch and the insufferable Fudge- hardly taking notice to Harry's pained expressions.