Chapter 20

Wild things

It was already evening, around six o'clock, when the girls woke up. They would have slept for another couple of hours but there was too much noise, what with people galloping up and down the stairs. In addition to the thunder form the steps, it also appeared that blank picture frame above Spica's bed was holding some sort of meeting. Though the colours of the painting had faded, it seemed that the people in it could still see what was going on in the real world and were commenting on it.

Spica tried to go back to sleep but it was in vain. Voices coming from outside the room only seemed to grow louder which each passing moment. She finally got up, slipped her feet off the bed and onto the ragged rug and stretched a little. She listened for a moment, trying to understand what the people outside were saying but she only caught scraps. She left the bed and looked at her surroundings.

When they had entered the room she was so tired she hadn't even lifted her head before falling asleep. She hadn't even wanted to change her clothes, but neither Charon nor Ginny would let her go to sleep dressed. It seemed that the young redhead was a lot like her mother.

The room was dark. From what Spica could discern, there wasn't much furniture; a wardrobe, a table and two chairs, in addition to the two beds where they had been sleeping. Charon was also wide awake and seemed as if she too had been listening to the voices for some time.

'So, are we staying here or go out?' Spica asked her sister, eager to find out what the fuss was. Her sister nodded and got out of bed. Spica opened the door. Before doing so she took a quick moment to study the doorknob, which looked curiously like a snake.

After the exited the room, they went to the stairs. The place was filled with wizards, though the youngest ones present appeared to be the Weasley twins. Spica wondered where Harry and the others were.

'What's up?' Spica asked unceremoniously.

The adults looked up at her. The looks they gave her didn't seem as nice as they had this morning.

Spica tried again. 'Is there anything we should know? Anything we could help with?' she asked, hoping she sounded as sincere as she felt.

The condescending look she got from most of them bugged her, but she tried to keep herself calm; it wasn't a good idea to lose herself now.

'The matters discussed here are of no concern to you.' One of them said.

'This meeting is about Tom Riddle, known as Voldemort isn't it?' Spica responded. She noticed with quiet satisfaction the way a few of them cringed at the name. 'He has just dispatched my parents to the other world and you expect me to stay put like a nice little girl and not even try to find out more?' she asked, verging on outrage.

'You ARE a little girl, so not trying to find out more is just the course of action you will take.'

'I'm a little girl.' Spica said, pausing, 'What about them?' she said, pointing towards Fred and George, 'or her?' she nodded towards Tonks, 'they're not more then a couple of years older than I am, yet they're members of your little club.' By this time, Spica had raised her voice a bit too louder, waking Mrs Black. She began yelling all sort of profanities. The curtains, flared open to reveal her face. Her face, contorted in anger, on the verge of continuing her tirade, suddenly stopped.

The woman's eyes were fixed on the two girls. For some seconds her face contracted in a strange grimace, before softening to a rather pleasant smile.

'Spica, you've come, finally.' Her voice was warm. 'You can now lay claim on your house and throw these filth and traitors out of the house.' Mrs Black said.

'My house?...' Spica said, puzzled, 'This is the House of Black?' She turned, this time directing her question to the group of wizards who were all gaping at the strange treatment Spica had received from the painting.

No one said a word. Spica rounded her shoulders to the group, relishing what was about to come. 'You dare mouth me? You dare deny my wishes in my own house? I am the only one to control this house. I can have you out of this house if I desire it. The House of Black will always listen to its mistress.' Spica said.

Her tone and her posture had transformed. The others, Charon included, felt a stange pull, as though they ought bow their heads to her. As Spica screamed the words she could feel the house respond to her. The big chandelier above them dimmed in brightness, the candles fluttered, casting strange shadows onto the room. Her eyes were darkening, like the sea before a storm.

'Am I to be allowed in the meeting? Or will you have to find a new headquarters to your little group?' she said, calming her voice, giving it a sickeningly sweat tone.

'Ms. Grey, as an underage witch you cannot join the Order. The rules are set for your own benefit.' drawled Snape, the only one still calm after her little outburst. He was used to things like this. He had been engaged to her mother for about a year. Things like this and surprises of the sort, finding she was a Black, were not so surprising anymore.

'Does that mean no?' Spica said. 'Well than that means I will just have to take back what's mine.' She spat.

Without a word or a movement from her, the entire house seemed to change before their eyes. The lights recommenced their flickering, the paper on the walls that had been peeling suddenly refound its lustre. All the paintings that had been removed or thrown away, appeared out of nowhere to their old positions. The whole place seemed to regain its formal glory, yet still seemed darkened. Odds and ends that had been dispatched reappeared in their formal places, and the whole house seemed to be against the intruders, save for Spica and her sister.

Mrs. Weasley was the first to move. She backed towards the door, but when she tried to touch the knob, it sprang to life and tried to bite her, hissing and spitting.

Spica felt amazing at the moment. She had always tried to keep her powers under control. That's what everybody had told her to do. Sometimes she just felt like she wanted to burst out. No true reason. Just like this time. She didn't even want to be in the stupid Order. She just didn't like to feel like she was left out. She didn't have anything against any of these people. They were not bad in any way, they had tried to be nice but she was too confused and she felt too abused. She just wanted to tear everything apart and then to put it back together.

She liked the looks of fear on most of the wizards and witches before her. It was incredible how people who were fighting against the worst wizard of modern times could be so scared of a teenager. However, glancing about, Spica did not like the bored look her sister was throwing her. And even more infuriating was the fact that Snape had the same look, a mix of pity and sarcasm. He considered her pathetic. A spoilt brat looking for attention. Oh, Spica reeled, she felt like smashing him up; she was just about to hex him, when a hand gripped her forearm from behind.

'What has put you in this foul mood?' Dumbledore asked, his strong grip on the verge of causing pain.

'Nothing' Spica snapped. 'Nothing but the fact that I am not allowed joining your little club.'

'I expected you would want that, but it is not possible.' He said sombrely.

'Why not...?' she paused, waiting for the headmaster's response. Getting none, she continued on, 'Why... I can't take part in your cat and mouse chase because I'm too young? Age means nothing, you obsolete dingbat, except perhaps to be a liability, in your case.' Spica realized she was toeing the line. She didn't really feel what she was saying, she was in just for the tantrum.

'I can bring forth the dead and you think I fear death?' she began to rant. 'I can put a stopper in death and you think I'm afraid of dying. You then are a lousy, biased scum-bag.' She was angry now, and she knew it was bad. She could control her powers when she was showing off, like earlier, but when she was truly angry she was out of even her own control.

Blue eyes met hers. 'I would like to have a talk with you Miss Grey, Miss More. Come with me.' Dumbledore said softly. 'Severus, would you be so kind as to fetch Harry? The both of you should be present as well.'

The blue eyes had begun to twinkled as he spoke. 'I'll speak to Remus at dinner if he's feeling up to it, after last night.' He added to himself. So, he thought to himself, his hopes hadn't been in vain. It was very possible, if this display were to be taken seriously.

A.N. hope you liked it and you'll review me, because I really need some reviews. If there's any thing you feel the need to criticise, you're welcome to. I want to know what things I can improve.

Oh but don't expect me to improve my spelling and grammar because this is probably as good as they will get.