Chapter XI- Grimmauld

They reappeared in a small alley, Harry assumed it to be near Grimmauld Place, so they were somewhere in London. He couldn't shake the tingly feeling of excitement that he had had ever since Remus had showed him the piece of paper from Dumbledore with the address on it. Whatever the test had been, Draco had passed, and that, too, made him excited. And a bit worried. There were people at Grimmauld Place who he knew would be much less accepting of the idea of Draco Malfoy in their midst than he and Remus had been. That was probably why, Harry realized, Dumbledore had sent Remus in the first place. He would give fair judgment. The Weasleys might take some convincing, Harry started going down the list of regulars at Grimmauld, but they would probably be fine as long as Harry himself gave his assurances. Tonks he wasn't sure of. Mad-Eye Moody would never trust any Malfoy, but then again, Harry wasn't sure if Moody even trusted himself. The others from the Ministry, he supposed he didn't really know them enough yet to tell what they might think. Despite the movement out of the Dursley home, Harry knew that they were far from out of the woods yet.

Draco, meanwhile, was looking around with distaste. Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn't a dark, dirty alleyway in Muggle London. "Where are we?" He asked, his usual sneer suddenly becoming evident in his voice. Remus looked worried at its appearance, worried that he had made the wrong choice. Harry, though, knew that the blond was worried, and answered him accordingly.

"Don't worry. We can't go directly there, because it's protected, and it's in the middle of Muggle London. We just have to walk a little. Right, Remus?" He looked up at the older man, obviously seeking his support. Remus nodded.

"Yes, that's right. It's only a block or so." With that, Remus picked up Hedwig's cage (the owl herself was absent, though Harry assured them when they left that she would be able to find him upon her return) and began walking toward the open end of the alleyway. Draco and Harry each lifted their ends of Harry's trunk and followed quickly after him.

Harry found that Remus hadn't lied when he'd said it was only a block or so. In fact, they had barely been walking a minute when they came to a corner with a street sign marked "Grimmauld Place". The street looked completely normal, with clean, nice-looking Muggle homes up and down both sides. They walked along it quickly, before coming to a stop between numbers 11 and 13. Draco looked around, confused.

"Where-" Harry knew exactly what was going to be asked, having gone through the same thing the year before, and interrupted.

"Hold on a second. And memorize that, quickly." He gestured to a folded piece of paper that was resting in Remus' hand. Hesitantly, Draco took it, and read it. Then appeared to read it again. Finally, he looked up at Harry and nodded, signaling that he had it memorized. Harry grinned.

"Now, think about it." He watched as Draco ran through the short line in his head, doing the same himself.

The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

And, just as it had all times previously, Number 12 seemed to swell into being. Harry watched Draco's mouth drop open in shock. It was amazing, how the house appeared without being noticed by anyone else on the street or in the buildings to either side.

"Is that...?" Draco didn't quite manage to get the whole question out, but Harry understood anyway.

"Yeah, that's where we're going. It's... well," Harry's voice took on a sadder tone, "It used to be my godfather's house." He looked up at the building, a bit sadly. He hadn't been back, not after Sirius' death. The house looked the same, but he knew it wouldn't feel the same, somehow. Remus rested a hand lightly on his shoulder.

"It may have been. It's your house now, Harry." He said it with a sad smile; he felt the same way Harry did about the house.

Harry looked at him, surprise clearly evident in his expression. "What d'you mean, it's mine... It belongs to the Or-" Harry shut himself up quickly, remembering that such things weren't to be talked about on the street. Remus sensed his distress, and quickly guided both boys to the front door and inside.

Draco found himself upset that he didn't get a look around, as Remus hustled both of them upstairs to one of the bedrooms. Harry was surprised; he had been expecting to be greeted with more of the Order members, as he had the first time he'd been stolen away to Grimmauld Place. Suddenly, he felt quite lonely.

"Well, then. This will be you boys' room. I am sorry we don't have more space, but we're expecting a few more guests today or tomorrow, and the girls will need a room for themselves, after all..." Remus trailed off, giving the boys time to evaluate the space. There were two large, easily Queen or King sized beds shoved into the small space, leaving little room for anything else. There was a small fireplace in the corner in which a fire was burning merrily, and a small rug just inside the door. Besides that, there was little room to even place Harry's trunk. They managed it, however, then both sat on the nearest of the two beds to hear anything else Remus had to say. There wasn't much.

"You'll probably want some time to get settled. Harry, I'll leave it up to you to decide how much Draco should be told about all of this." If Harry was surprised by the use of Draco's first name, he hid it admirably well. "He'll probably need the grand tour as well. Also, you may wish to decide where you'll be sleeping. We expect Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom to be arriving later today, and they will be sharing this room with the two of you. I am sorry about that; we just have a few more live-ins than before. I think that about does it. If you'll excuse me, I have to go inform the rest that you've arrived." Remus looked anything but pleased about the prospect of explaining Draco Malfoy's presence at the Order's headquarters, but he bid them goodbye and left, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

As soon as the door was closed, Draco turned on Harry faster than he had thought possible.

"What's going on? Where are we? And what in the world is this 'Order of the Phoenix' and how is this your house if you aren't living in it?" Draco's glare seemed to pierce right through him, the lazy glares he had gotten used to suddenly turned pointed and cold. In other words, Draco Malfoy was scared. Harry gave him a little smile, realizing how easy Draco was to read when you got to know him, then set out hastily to explain the origins of the House of Black, managing to ignore the first question for the time being. About ten minutes later, Draco's glare had softened again, and he was nodding thoughtfully.

"So, this is really your house?" He looked around the room again, this time appreciating it a little differently.

"I guess." Harry shrugged. "I don't think-" He stopped short, suddenly remembering the family tree that so stubbornly refused to come off the wall downstairs. "Maybe it's not." He suddenly realized, turning a wide-eyed gaze at Draco, who suddenly felt like a deer in headlights.

"What?" he questioned nervously, unconsciously straightening the much-hated Gryffindor t-shirt he was wearing.

"It might be... your house, actually..." Harry dropped off into thought. He wasn't quite sure how wizarding laws looked at inheritance. If property went to the next blood relative then maybe... maybe it wasn't really his house at all. Draco, meanwhile, looked scandalized.

"MINE? How would it be mine!? I've never even been here before now." He gave Harry a look that clearly said 'you're crazy'. Harry shook his head.

"No, it might be. Come see." He grabbed Draco's hand off the comforter beside him, and began dragging the blond out of the room. He kept dragging until they reached the wall downstairs, where the Black family tree had resisted all methods of removal. Draco gaped, his hand going slack in Harry's as he traced the family lines down to see his own name. His mother's was now marked as deceased, the date there in embroidered numbers. He reflexively tightened his grip on Harry's hand to near painful levels as he stared at the lettering.

Harry barely noticed. He was staring sadly at a little burned out space on the tapestry, where, at one time, the name of Sirius Black had been embroidered. He knew that it hadn't been there in years, but at that moment he wished there were some tangible reminder that his godfather had been there.

The boys stood in subdued silence before the wall for some time, just staring at it, or perhaps beyond it.

When they came back to themselves, they ascended the stairs once more, still silent. It was only in the relative privacy of 'their' room that either felt ready to speak.

"See, I told you, the house might be yours." Harry's voice held an unidentifiable tone, something like sadness and hopefulness and something else Draco couldn't fathom, all rolled into one. The blond shook his head.

"No, it's yours. Property passes through only the male heirs in most pureblood families, it wouldn't have reverted back to my mother in any case. But if that's settled, can you tell me what this is all about?" Harry nodded and gave him a weak, apologetic smile.

"Sure. What do you want to know first?" He waited a moment while Draco made up his mind, suddenly realizing how empty his hand felt without the blond's resting in it.

"What exactly is this 'Order' thing, and why is your house their headquarters?" It was an obvious question, though Harry wasn't sure he was prepared to hear it laid out so plainly. He took a deep breath, and began talking.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco was silent for a while after Harry finished explaining. Harry could understand that, though; he would probably have to take some time to digest the story of the last few years too, if he hadn't lived through it. Harry gave him a moment, then reached out and touched his shoulder experimentally. Draco didn't flinch; he raised his head so slowly that Harry worried for a moment if he was entirely alright.

"Is it okay, me being here?" For a moment, Harry could have sworn the blond was about to cry, but the slight weakness in his slate-grey eyes passed so quickly it might never have been there at all. On instinct, Harry shifted his hand on the comforter beside him so that his little finger crossed Draco's ever so slightly.

"Why wouldn't it be? I know some of the people here don't like you very much right now," Draco winced slightly, "but I think they'll be fine once they get to know you. And anyway, it's my house. I can invite anyone I want to." Draco had to smile as Harry's tone changed somewhere, from 'comforting' to 'petulant'. It was endearing. He silently shifted his hand further under the other boy's, enjoying the sudden feeling of closeness that he suddenly realized he had been missing for most of his life. The two sat in silence for a while, Harry becoming aware that Draco was drifting off. Eventually he found himself supporting the Slytherin's weight as he leaned into Harry's shoulder, fast asleep and making soft sounds that seemed almost kittenish. Harry smiled, but shifted the blond off him, doing his best to get the other boy into a reasonably comfortable position on the bed before quietly exiting the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft 'click'. The Weasleys would be arriving soon, and Harry knew that it would be much easier to explain Draco's presence if Draco was... well, not present. And besides, he looked adorable, sleeping like that.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

True to Lupin's word, the Weasleys did arrive later that afternoon. Harry was greeted excitedly at the door by the whole troop of Weasleys, excepting Percy, who still hadn't seen fit to show his face around any of the Order members. Harry regarded this as a good thing- he still hadn't quite forgiven Percy, and wasn't sure if he ever would. Ron and Ginny both greeted him with large hugs, as did Mrs. Weasley, who then hustled off to the kitchen to ensure that the entire household was being properly nourished. Fred and George managed to refrain from playing any tricks for at least five minutes upon entering, in which time they shook hands with Harry, assured him that 'business is booming,' which Harry hoped wasn't meant to be literal, and wandered off to find their room (one which they were set to share with their father and Lupin, and which was next door to the one set for Harry, Draco, Ron and Neville. end exposition).

Harry had barely sat down to catch up with Ron and Ginny when Mr. Weasley entered the drawing room and pulled Harry away. He caught the confused gazes of Ron and Ginny as he was escorted away, but he had a feeling he knew what this conversation was going to be about. He tried to fix a pleasant expression on his face, but he was well aware that none of the Weasleys had a very good opinion of the Malfoy clan; particularly not Arthur Weasley, after all the trouble Draco's father had caused him during his time in the Ministry. He waited for Mr. Weasley to begin, which he did, after ensuring that there were no extendable ears in the vicinity.

"I heard an interesting rumor, Harry." His voice was not unkind, though Harry half expected it to be. He could tell that the older man was trying to approach a difficult situation tactfully, and he appreciated the effort. "Is it true? That the Malfoy boy has been staying with you this summer?" Arthur Weasley was looking at him in such a way as though he expected Harry to immediately deny the charge. Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Yes. He has. He's also come to stay here, now that I've been moved." He looked up and met Mr. Weasley's eyes squarely. He knew very well that Ron would probably be an even harder sell on this than his father, and if he gave in now... It came as a surprise to Harry, then, that Mr. Weasley didn't seem angered by the situation at all. In fact, he was almost smiling. Harry's confusion must have been evident, because he proceeded to explain himself.

"Don't mistake me, Harry; I am a bit... concerned, about the boy's motives. But, well, everyone changes, and sometimes people are not who we think they are. My own son showed me that. On that same subject, I would like to apologize to you again." Harry nodded, giving the man a thankful smile, trying in the same motion to show him that he did not blame the whole Weasley family for Percy's conduct. "I'll say it simply; if you accept the young Mr. Malfoy's presence here, then I will as well. I trust your judgment Harry; I just hope you're not wrong about him." Arthur laid a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, which Harry was grateful for. He sighed.

"So do I."

It was not a second after he uttered those words that they heard a loud crash and a scream from above their heads. The two looked at each other, aware of the source of the voice at the same moment.

"Ron!" They realized in unison, quickly heading toward the stairs.