Number Twelve Grimmauld Place

'What's the Order of the-?' John began.

'Not here!' snarled Moody. 'Wait 'til we're inside!' He pulled the piece of parchment out of John's hands and lit it on fire with the tip of his wand.

John looked around at the houses again. They were standing outside number eleven, to his left was number ten, to the right, however, was number thirteen.

Sherlock let out a soft, 'Oh.'

'What?'

'Think about what you just read,' Sherlock whispered.

John thought, and as soon as he reached the part about number twelve, a battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of its way.

'Come on, hurry,' Moody growled, prodding John in the back.

They walked up the worn stone steps, staring at the newly materialised door. Its black paint was shabby and scratched. The silver doorknocker was in the form of a twisted serpent. There was no keyhole or letterbox.

Lupin tapped the door once with his wand. Many loud, metallic clicks echoed inside, and the door creaked open.

'Get in quick,' Lupin whispered, 'but don't go too far inside, and don't touch anything.'

They stepped over the threshold into the almost total darkness of the hallway. It smelled damp, and dusty, with an almost sweet, rotting smell.

The others came in behind them, dragging in John's trunk and Dolly's tank. Moody was the last to limp inside, and closed the door behind him.

As soon as the door closed, John's stomach lurched, and a terrible fear overcame him. 'I don't like it in here,' he murmured, shaking his head and backing away. 'Let me out.' He turned around, but Sherlock was behind him, stopping him from leaving. 'No, no, let me out.'

Sherlock grabbed his shoulders.

'I don't like it,' John cried, shivering, and holding his head. 'I don't like it.'

'Remember this,' Sherlock muttered, squeezing John's palm as Sam had shown them.

John nodded, squeezing it himself. It calmed him enough, but not all the way, and his heart still raced.

'Ready?' Lupin asked, putting a hand on John's shoulder.

'Yeah.'

Lupin took them upstairs and showed them to their room.

John immediately lay down on the bed with his eyes closed. It was as though the house itself was pouring with hatred, and it seeped into his bones. 'Don't make me stay here,' he mumbled.

Sherlock sat beside him and held his hand. 'We must. You're safe here.'

'Can't you feel it?'

'Of course I can.'

John curled into a ball. 'It won't stop.'

Sherlock looked around. 'Perhaps we can make this room more comfortable.' He began unpacking John's things, putting up his photos, and setting Dolly's tank up in a corner. 'Does that help?' he asked, bringing Dolly over to him.

'Not really.'

'What about this?' Sherlock bent down and kissed him softly.

John smiled slightly. 'Yeah, maybe a bit.'

Sherlock kissed him again. 'I'll get Mycroft to get you some more of your things from home. Bedclothes and perhaps even your curtains. It should help with this room.'

John nodded tiredly.

'Get some rest,' Sherlock said, ignoring his own bed across the room and climbing in beside John.

'I'll try,' John mumbled, already falling asleep in Sherlock's arms.

John woke up late the next day. Sherlock was beside him still, wide awake and staring at the ceiling. He sat up and groaned as the horrible feeling from the house came again, but there was something more familiar this time.

'The Weasleys arrived this morning,' Sherlock explained, feeling the familiarity too. 'Mrs Weasley is ready to feed you, I think.'

'I could eat.' John slowly got to his feet, ignoring the dizziness. He hesitated at the door, knowing it would get worse as soon as he stepped out into the house, but he was getting hungry.

'I could ask her to bring it up to you,' Sherlock suggested.

John considered it. 'I don't want to be stuck in this room for the rest of the summer. I need to get a better grip on it anyway.' He shook out his hands and walked out of the door, wavering only for a moment when it hit him again. He pressed his thumb into his palm harder, and stumbled downstairs into the kitchen.

'Oh, John! Sherlock' Mrs Weasley said when she saw him, pulling both of them in for a bone-cracking hug. 'I'm so glad you're all right!'

'Thanks.'

'I'm sure you're hungry, I've made you both some breakfast. Come through, come through.' She made them sit down at the table.

'Where are the others?' Sherlock asked.

'Upstairs,' she told them. 'Getting them to work cleaning this house, it's a state.'

John chewed on some bacon.

'Are you all right, dear?' Mrs Weasley asked John. 'You look awfully pale.'

'I'm fine,' said John. 'I just don't like this house.'

'Man after my own heart.'

John started, and turned to see Sirius Black walk into the kitchen. 'How's it going?' he asked.

Sirius shrugged, and sat down with his own plate of eggs and bacon. 'Swell.'

'What is this place, anyway?'

'My mum's old house,' Sirius told them. 'I'm the only Black left still alive, or not in Azkaban, so unfortunately it's mine.'

'Lovely old place.'

Sirius snorted. 'Yeah, it's lovely all right. I don't really have much use for it, so I said the Order could use it as Headquarters.'

'What's the Order?' Sherlock asked curiously.

'Order of the Phoenix,' Sirius said. 'Dumbledore's got us looking for information and fighting against You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters.'

'Sirius!' Mrs Weasley exclaimed, horrified.

'What? This one's a Seer, and this one's - well, he's Sherlock,' said Sirius reasonably. 'Do you really think they won't find out?'

Mrs Weasley pursed her lips, but said nothing.

'Oh okay, so what's he doing?' John asked. 'How're you fighting them?'

Sirius glanced uncomfortably at Mrs Weasley. 'We don't know yet. But we think Dumbledore's hoping that you could help us find out.'

John dropped his bacon. 'Oh.'

'Why should he?' Sherlock said coldly.

'Sherlock…' John muttered.

'The Death Eaters wanted him for his power, and now you're saying Dumbledore only wants him for his power?' Sherlock continued. 'If it's not one side, it's the other, so why should John do anything for any of you? I ought to just take him back to my house right now, where he can at least get some peace.'

'It's all right,' John said, putting a hand on Sherlock's arm. 'I have this power for a reason, so I might as well use it for good.'

Sherlock scowled.

'You know it's not that simple,' John said sadly. 'At least this side doesn't want to kill all Muggle-borns, all our friends… I want to get better at it. I want to help.'

'And I just want you to be safe. Is that so terrible?'

John smiled bitterly. 'No, but I won't be safe until Voldemort - sorry - You-Know-Who's defeated.'

'Fine.' Sherlock stood up and stormed from the room, and John sighed.

'You know, you don't have to do anything,' Mrs Weasley said kindly.

'Yeah, I think I do. Thanks for breakfast, Mrs Weasley.' John stood up and followed Sherlock out, wincing when he left Mrs Weasley's presence, and once again felt the house's anger and hatred.

He found Sherlock in their room, sitting on his bed with Dolly.

'It'll be okay,' John said, sitting next to him.

'No it won't,' Sherlock frowned. 'It hurts you to go that far. To look at him.'

John thought back to the night Voldemort had returned, and how long Sherlock had held him together for. Even over a month later, Sherlock still felt the odd shock through his head from the experience. 'I know it's difficult,' John said, 'I'm scared too, but the quicker we find out what's going on, the quicker we can get rid of him. Are you in this with me?'

'I don't really have much choice in the matter, do I?'

John rolled his eyes.

'But yes, I am.'

'Good, because I would never be able to work any of it out myself,' John smiled. 'Sometimes I think you're too smart for me.'

'I'm too smart for everyone, I wouldn't take it personally.'

John laughed, and Dolly leapt up onto his shoulder to warble in his ear.

For the rest of that day, they sat quietly in their room. They heard footsteps up and down all day, but no one disturbed them, except for Mycroft when he brought them Sherlock's things, John's curtains, and some extra blankets.

It wasn't until that evening, after dinner, that Dumbledore finally made an appearance.

He knocked on the door, and came in quietly. He conjured a chair, and sat before John and Sherlock on the bed.

'Hello, Professor,' John said politely, while Sherlock just folded his arms.

'I understand that Sirius has already told you what I am to ask of you.'

'Yeah, he did. And I want to help.'

Dumbledore smiled, and looked at Sherlock, who was glaring at him. 'It's not an easy thing to ask,' he said. 'I know how it affects you, and I wish I did not have to ask it at all.'

'You don't,' Sherlock said shortly.

John elbowed him.

'Admirable,' Dumbledore said. 'Your desire to protect him is a powerful thing, Sherlock, but we need to understand Voldemort's plans and movements. I need your help.'

'Then it's a good thing we've already agreed to do it, right Sherlock?'

Sherlock nodded stiffly.

'Thank you,' said Dumbledore. 'Have you seen anything recently?'

'Have you spoken to Mycroft?'

'Not as of yet.'

John shifted, so he was sitting cross-legged. 'I looked into my crystal ball after the Death Eaters got away, to see if I could see why they came. I didn't see much, but we think Voldemort's after something in the Department of Mysteries. They look like orbs on shelves. Mycroft might know what they are, but he wouldn't tell us.' John blinked rapidly as they flashed before his eyes.

Dumbledore frowned slightly. 'I see.'

'That - that's it right now,' John said a little sheepishly, feeling as though he should have somehow seen more.

'Thank you, John.' Dumbledore stood up and waved his wand, getting rid of the chair he'd conjured. 'I must also ask you not to tell Harry about anything you may see or hear whilst you are here.'

'Why?' Sherlock said suspiciously.

'Harry must be told at the right time, otherwise he could put himself in danger.'

'He won't like that,' John frowned.

'No,' Dumbledore agreed. 'I'll be back soon. Thank you for your help.' Then Dumbledore was gone, and Sherlock was still seething.

'He shouldn't be using you like this.'

'Why not? If you've got the tools, you might as well use them.'

Sherlock turned and kissed John forcefully. 'You're not a tool, John.'

'If you say so.'

'You're not going to think about it anymore tonight,' Sherlock said.

'Oh really? What am I going to do instead?'

Sherlock smiled. 'Perhaps you'd like to listen to me play the violin for a while.'

'Do you want me to hold up your sheet music?' John grinned.

'That would be lovely.'

Over the following weeks, the Weasleys got to work on the house, and John and Sherlock practised with the crystal ball. The blankets and curtains that Mycroft had brought fended off the malice coming from the rest of the house, and it slowly receded while the others cleaned out the rooms.

Hermione arrived not long after John did, hugging him tightly when she saw him.

While John was staring into the misty depths of his crystal ball, Sherlock wandered the house, watching the various members of the Order of the Phoenix coming and going.

They had meetings that not even John and Sherlock were allowed to attend, though it didn't stop Fred and George attempting to eavesdrop anyway.

They all started getting letters from Harry, demanding information, but they had all been sworn to secrecy by Dumbledore.

'He's getting really upset,' John said, after feeling the searing frustration through Harry's latest letter. He fell back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. So far, he hadn't seen anything more useful than he had the night the Death Eaters came for him. The mist in his crystal ball kept turning pink, and showing him Dolly, but neither of them could work out why.

John sighed and picked it up again. 'What's Voldemort doing?' he asked it. It showed him the Dark Mark again, and he shuddered. 'Yes, but what about it?' Then it showed him the orbs. 'Okay, but what are they?' The mist swirled for a moment, until it showed a thin version of himself. 'What's that supposed to mean?' His image fell apart, and clumped together to show him Professor Trelawney. 'That's new,' he frowned, squinting at it. 'Professor Trelawney. Is she something to do with it?'

Her image disappeared, and it started forming something else, then all of the mist fell apart, vibrating. It seemed confused for a moment, as though distracted by something else. John gasped, and a vision took him. He saw Harry, and another boy. It was dark and cold, though John was certain it was still the summer he was seeing. Harry had his wand out, then John saw it. A Dementor, swooping down on them.

John yanked himself out of it, breathing heavily. He ran out of the room and down the stairs, barging into the kitchen, not particularly caring if they were having a meeting.

'Is anyone watching Harry?' he asked, tripping onto the table.

Everyone around the table gaped at him.

'Yes, why?' Lupin asked.

John relaxed slightly. 'Good. Are the Dementors still guarding Azkaban?'

Lupin glanced at Sirius. 'They are.'

John blinked. 'Oh.'

'What's going on, John?'

'I saw - I saw Harry being attacked by a Dementor. He was at home, I think. Or nearby.'

Sirius leapt to his feet. 'We have to go and get him!'

'Sit down, Sirius,' Lupin said firmly, then put his hands on John's shoulders. 'When does this happen, John?'

John's head thumped. 'Erm, soon. I - I don't know exactly…' He trailed off, breathing deeply through his nose, and squeezing his palm. The pain retreated, but left dizziness in his wake, and Mrs Weasley sat him in a chair.

'You have to watch Harry,' John mumbled, resting his head on the table, unaware of all the people in the room staring at him. 'I don't like it in this house,' he said again, passing out where he sat.

When he woke up again, everything was a flurry of activity, except for Sherlock sitting beside him 'What's going on?' he asked blearily.

'They're trying to work out what to do about Harry, I think,' Sherlock said, watching them all with interest.

'Has he been attacked?'

'I don't think so. Not yet.'

John sighed, slumping back in his seat.

'You're pushing yourself too hard,' said Sherlock.

'So? If I don't, then someone might get hurt. Come on, let's go back to our room, my head hurts.'

John threw himself down on his bed, and Sherlock sat at the foot of it, his own bed still unused. John went to grab his crystal ball, but Sherlock wouldn't let him have it. He put it away in the bag, and put it on top of the wardrobe, where John couldn't reach it.

'Come on, Sherlock, it's not funny. Dumbledore asked for my help.'

'And he'll get it at your own pace,' Sherlock insisted. 'I need help with something else anyway.'

'What could you possibly need help with?'

Sherlock smiled widely, and crept to the bedroom door. 'Fred and George are inventing something, and I want to know what it is. They won't let me in, but you're the reason they have a business at all. They might let you see it.'

John laughed in disbelief. 'Why do you care about it?'

Sherlock poked his head around the door. 'Because,' he whispered, 'they're better at inventing things than I am, and I want to know how they're doing it.'

'You could just ask.'

'They would never give away trade secrets.'

John laughed. 'Are you really asking me to spy on Fred and George?'

'Yes.'

John shrugged. 'All right, then.'

For a couple of days, John and Sherlock snuck around after Fred and George, even stealing their Extendable Ear prototype so Sherlock could examine it, then sneaking it back before the twins noticed it as missing.

They were laughing breathlessly together one evening, John almost beginning to feel normal, when Hedwig swooped in through the window and sat next to him. She had notes for John, Hermione, Ron, and Sirius. John took his and opened it.

I've just been attacked by Dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here.

'They were supposed to be watching him!' John exclaimed. 'Ouch!' Hedwig pecked at him, hard enough to draw blood. 'I don't have an answer,' he said to her. She just pecked him again, then fluttered off to find Ron and Hermione.

Not long after, they heard shouting downstairs, and John ran down to see what was happening.

'You were supposed to have a tail on him!' he yelled, to no one in particular. 'You were supposed to be protecting him.'

Mrs Weasley put an arm around him. 'We're not sure what happened just yet,' she said gently.

'What are you doing now? Are you helping him or not?'

'We're sorting something out,' Lupin said, pausing in front of him. 'We're looking at extracting him by air.'

'Why? Can't you just Apparate him, like you did with me?'

'No,' Moody growled, stumping past. 'Not safe.'

'How is flying safer than Apparating?' John demanded.

'Not your concern. Get back upstairs.'

'Come on, dear, they'll sort it all out.' Mrs Weasley pushed him firmly towards the stairs.

'But-'

'John.' Sherlock grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back up the stairs.

John stomped around his room. 'What is the point!' he shouted. 'Why do I bother? Why do I have to see all of these awful things happen, if I can't do anything about it?'

'John-'

'DON'T TELL ME IT'S OKAY, IT ISN'T. I SAW HIM COME BACK. I SAW CEDRIC DIE. IT HURTS SO MUCH, AND IT STILL DOESN'T HELP!'

Sherlock just watched him, silently listening to John's rage, and crumpling up Harry's letter.

John lay down on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. 'I can't do it. I just can't.'

'No one says you have to,' Sherlock said, kneeling beside him.

'But then, what's it for?'

'I don't know that, John.'

John groaned loudly, stamping his feet into the floor.

Sherlock didn't say anything else, but he pulled all the blankets off the beds and built a fort around them both.

'Really?' John said tiredly.

'Humour me.'

John rolled over onto his stomach, but allowed Sherlock to put a pillow under his head, then cuddled up to him. He didn't think about anything else but his and Sherlock's heartbeat, until Harry arrived downstairs.

Welcome back everyone! My quarantine period is almost over and I'm so excited to finally leave my house. Thanks again for reading, and I'll see you again next time!