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Chapter 22.

Who's even in this club?

The next day, Lara didn't get to speak to Walter. He spent most of the day passed out on the couch, only coming round to take sips of water and more pain meds. Lara decided she'd confront him on Monday, though she didn't get to do so until lunchtime. She planned to talk to him the second they woke up, but they overslept and ended up rushing around the house, grabbing little bits of food and trying to make themselves at least slightly presentable for work. They got to work with fifteen seconds to spare, panting for breath and only half-dressed; Lara hadn't brushed her hair and had odd shoes on, while Walter only managed to find a holey t-shirt and dirt-covered jeans.

"Morning, Culpepper's," Hudson said, throwing a quick smile towards the siblings as he passed by. Freezing instantly, he did a double-take. "Merlin, what happened to you two?"

"Overslept," Lara gasped, holding onto her side. "Didn't—have—time—to—properly—dress."

Hudson laughed and began to walk towards his desk again. "We've all done it. Get a coffee down you. Be right as rain."

Lara half-heartedly nodded; she didn't actually like coffee that much, but the idea was a good one. She decided to make some tea instead, just while she caught her breath.

For the rest of the morning, she was kept busy with paperwork and wrapping up some loose ends from the graphorn trip. Walter was also busy trying to disguise his splinching injury by staying at his desk and doing 'research', which basically meant he read books and tried to rest his arm. Whenever he had to sign something for a co-worker of write something down, he did so with a painful grimace upon his face. At one point, he took a pain relief potion from his desk draw and downed it while he thought nobody was looking.

Finally, it was lunch and, like every other work day, the siblings headed towards the cafeteria.

"Did you really hide the Order from me because you think it's too dangerous?" Lara asked quietly as they walked, getting straight to the point.

"Of course I did," replied Walter, glancing around the area to make sure no one was eavesdropping. He threw an easy smile towards some Ministry workers to make it look like he and Lara were merely talking about the weather. "Why else wouldn't I have told you?"

"Because you think I'm not good enough to join."

"Don't be stupid." He scoffed. "You proved last night that you're more than capable of being a member…I just don't want you getting hurt."

"And you think I want you getting hurt?" she snapped, then plastered a smile onto her face so nobody got suspicious. "I worry about you, too, you know. Especially when you disappear for days and don't tell me a bloody thing."

"In hindsight, that probably wasn't the best idea," he said as they grabbed a tray each and queued up for food. "Everyone told me I was stupid—Charlie even sent me a howler—but I couldn't bring myself to drag you into it. I've already dragged you into my job, away from our parents…this just seemed like too much."

"First of all, I wanted to work with you," Lara replied, glancing at the person beside her. It was man with a dark beard and he didn't seem to be paying attention to Walter and Lara's conversation. "Second of all, no one made me leave home. Dad said I could stay if I wanted to, but I didn't. Third, you should've let me make the decision about whether or not I wanted to…to come along."

Walter, catching onto her deliberate vagueness because of the crowd, nodded slowly. "I know, and I'm sorry. I always knew you'd have to join…the club eventually, I was just trying to hold off as long as possible. As cool as I can be sometimes, I am your older brother."

"Don't go all annoying, overprotective big brother on me now," Lara rolled her eyes as they walked over to an empty table. "Otherwise, I'll have to punch you."

"I'm always overprotective," Water grinned. "I just hide it well."

Lara scowled.

"The club's having a meeting tonight," he continued, reaching to open his bottle of water with a painful cringe. Sighing, Lara grabbed the bottle and took off the lid before handing it to him. "Thanks—we're meeting at six, if you want to come along. Most of the Ord—most of the club will be there, I think. We're handing out jobs and stuff."

"Sure." Lara agreed. "Who's even in this club?"

Walter smirked. "You'll have to wait and see."

At half five that night (and after being showed a note from Dumbledore, of all people), Lara did not floo home like she usually did, but instead headed into muggle London with Walter at her side. She awkwardly followed him through the streets, not really knowing where she was going. The only time she came to the Capital was to head to King's Cross to catch the Hogwarts train. When she was a kid, she'd come with her family to do touristy stuff—the London Eye, Buckingham Palace, visit the muggle Parliament—but she hardly remembered it. She didn't actually like London that much, having been brought up in a quiet, country neighbourhood her whole life. The city was just too fast-paced and busy for her to really enjoy.

However, Walter seemed to know where he was going; easily leading her across roads and around corners, Lara eventually found herself in a relatively quiet street. After a moment, Walter turned and gave her a grin.

"We're here," he said, stopping outside a row of houses.

Lara looked over to the tall townhouses. Her eyebrows rose; this wasn't what she was expecting. In her head, the Order's headquarters were underground somewhere, hidden among tree roots and in the middle of nowhere, with endless magical enchantments on it and even a dragon protecting the front door. A relatively normal house in the middle of London seemed rather…anticlimactic.

"Alright, then," she said. "Which one is it?"

"Wait a second."

Giving him a confused look, Lara stepped back and crossed her arms. She had no idea what to anticipate. Maybe the houses turning into a secret lair or Dumbledore suddenly popping out of nowhere to greet them or—

A house began to materialise out of nowhere, pushing number 11 and number 13 out of the way. A set of worn, battered steps appeared on the pathway, leading to a large, old door. Her eyes slowly raising, Lara could see the whole house looked rather run-down, the windowpanes dirty with the paint peeling away, the bricks covered in grime and dusk. The whole place needed a lot of TLC.

"Welcome to 12 Grimmauld Place," Walter beamed, motioning dramatically towards the door. "AKA; the Order of the Phoenix headquarters."

Lara wondrously walked over to the door, intending to open it. However, the door had nothing but a silver knocker on, though it was silver and in the shape of a twisted serpent. It actually reminded her of something she and Walter would get for their own house, as it was rather quirky and odd-looking. Beyond puzzled, Lara turned to Walter to ask what to do—but suddenly the door popped open, revealing a long, dimly lit hallway.

"It looks…ominous," Lara murmured, peering into the house. "It doesn't look like an Order place."

"It actually belonged to the Black's," explained Walter, walking up behind her. "The pure-blood's, you know? They lived here for years, but they've all died off now."

"And the Order uses it?"

"It has loads of concealment charms and stuff on, so it made sense. Go on, head to the end of the hallway. Oh, and be quiet."

Lara frowned and hesitantly entered the house. It was like stepping into history; Lara could tell, once upon a time, it had been a fine house, filled with intricate wooden detailing and carpeted floors. But since its heyday, everything had been left to ruin, and the paint was peeling and everything was gloomy, the air thick with dust and a stale sort of smell. A rather ugly umbrella stand stood in the middle of the hallway, which, Lara realised with horror, was made from the leg of a troll.

Recoiling, Lara rushed down the hallway and to the end door, pushing it open. To her surprise, a long stone staircase was on the other side. She glanced back to Walter, who motioned for her to walk on, so she headed down. She came to a rather large kitchen, filled with dark wooden cabinets and brass pots and pans. In the middle of the room was a long table, currently filled with numerous people. Some Lara recognised, others she'd never seen before. Nobody noticed her arrival.

"I'll introduce you to everyone," Walter chirped and shoved her forward. Lara squeaked slightly as she walked forward, her legs feeling like jelly. Walter tapped a girl with bubble-gum pink hair on the shoulder and said, "Tonks, meet my sister, Lara. Lara, this is Tonks. I went to school with her."

Tonks turned and gave Lara a bright smile. "Wotcher! I think I remember you from school, actually."

"I remember you, too," Lara smiled. "I always thought you had the most wicked hairstyles. Took me ages to figure out you're a metamorphmagus."

"Ah." Tonks grinned, and her hair turned a violent shade of purple.

"That's so cool."

Tonks winked. "I like you, you can stay."

"Let's go and find the others," Walter said, gently pushing Lara forward.

He introduced her to a few others, mostly Ministry officials still in their Department robes. Just as Lara thought, almost every department seemed to have someone on Dumbledore's side, and some of them were rather high up, including Special Advisor to the Wizengamot, Elphias Doge. After meeting the Ministry officials, Walter took her down to the other end of the kitchen, where a group of people in regular robes were gathered. As they walked over, a head of dark hair caught Lara's eye…dark hair that haunted her dreams only two years before…

"Sirius Black," whispered Lara, grabbing Walter's elbow. "Sirius Black is here."

Walter looked unconcerned that a mass serial killer was only a couple of feet away from them. "Oh, yeah."

"He's a murderer," Lara snapped. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"Oh, yeah, that," Walter cringed, turning towards her. "That was bull. He's not actually a killer. He was framed."

"Framed?"

"By his friend, Peter Pettigrew. Peter's on You-Know-Who's side and he betrayed his friends to save himself."

Lara glanced over to Sirius Black. He was talking with two men Lara recognised; in fact, they'd both taught her. Professor Lupin, her favourite DADA teacher, was sat at Sirius' side in his usual shabby robes, and Professor Moody was sat on the other, growling under his breath. This made her relax—if Moody trusted him, then that counted for a lot. He didn't trust anyone.

"Okay," she breathed, allowing Walter to take her over.

"We've got a new recruit," Walter announced to the men, placing his hands on Lara's shoulders. "This is my sister, Lara."

"Hey Professor Lupin, Professor Moody…and, eh…Mr Black," Lara grinned awkwardly.

"Professor Lupin," Sirius repeated teasingly, smirking at his friend. "I always knew you'd be a boring old fart one day, Moony. Professor…if I'd have known when we were at school…"

"You'd have made me pay, I'm sure," Lupin said flatly, then turned to Lara. "You don't have to call me Professor."

"Nor me," Moody huffed. "Didn't so much teaching, did I?"

"I thought you were an excellent teacher—"

Walter tightened his grip on Lara's shoulders and hissed, "Wasn't him. Someone kidnapped him, used Polyjuice potion to impersonate him to get Harry to the graveyard at the end of the year. Moody spent the year in a locked trunk."

"Oh," squeaked Lara, clearing her throat uneasily. "Oh, eh…I'm sorry, I didn't realise—"

Moody grunted and scowled at the table.

"He found the experience enlightening, as you can tell," Sirius chirped, patting Moody on the shoulder. "Much more grateful for life now. So, you're Walt's sister?"

"Unfortunately," Lara sighed in mock exasperation. "I was dragged along to keep him in check. He keeps making his own rules up."

"Sounds familiar," smirked Lupin, sending Sirius an incensed look.

"It does sound like Harry, you're right, Moony," Sirius quipped. "Do you know Harry?"

"Vaguely. I'm three years above him, but I'm in his house. I was desperate for him to win the Tournament."

"She knows the twins better," Bill Weasley joined the conversation, sitting beside Moody with a mug of tea. "Year above them. They're quite good friends."

"You know Fred and George?" Lara blurted out as Walter snickered behind her.

"Oh, yeah, I know them. Spent the whole summer avoiding their pranks and jumping out my skin when they apparated everywhere," Sirius nodded. "Still can't tell them apart, mind."

"Yeah," Lara smiled affectionately. "It took me a while."

"Walter, dear, would you like a drink of tea?" Mrs Weasley bustled onto the scene and did a double-take towards Lara. "Oh, hello, dear. I'm afraid I don't know you."

"I'm Lara Culpepper, Mrs Weasley. Walter's sister," Lara replied, her stomach churning. For some reason, she was more nervous about meeting the Weasley matriarch than Sirius Black, and she'd spent her whole sixth year hiding from him.

"Oh, yes. Charlie's mentioned you quite a bit," Mrs Weasley threw a look towards Walter. "He's wanted Walter to bring you to a meeting for a while now. At least he's finally listened."

"He didn't really have a choice once I found out about it."

"That's what I like to hear," she smiled. "Tea, dear?"

Lara nodded and Mrs Weasley rushed off towards the stove. The Culpepper's sat at the table, and Lara ended up between Lupin and her brother, opposite Bill. Over the next fifteen minutes, a few others turned up, including Arthur Weasley and Sturgis Podmore. Mrs Weasley placed several pots of tea along the table, along with mugs, sugar and milk, just before Moody suddenly stood up, his cane thumping against the wooden floor.

"Now, we're all here to report and delegate," Moody grumbled, his magical eyes whizzing across the crowd. "Has anyone got anything bad to report?"

"Walter and I got attacked in Diagon Alley by some Death Eaters," Bill spoke up. Mrs Weasley gasped and stared wide-eyed at her son. "Don't worry, mum, nothing really bad happened. We stunned them and apparated to Walter's place. He got splinched, but his sister—who he's finally brought along, may I add—fixed him up. I'm pretty sure one of them was Avery and another was Rosier. The other two I didn't recognise. Looked young, though."

"So he's recruiting the young'ens already," grumbled Podmore. "Great, just great."

"We already knew he was," Mr Weasley said. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's trying to infiltrate Hogwarts."

"Arthur, please," snipped Mrs Weasley as she poured Tonks a cup of tea.

"Speaking of Hogwarts, Umbridge is still creating all kinds of trouble," Bill said. "I get letters from my siblings all the time and, well, I think it's safe to say that the Ministry has officially taken over the school."

"What?" gasped Lara, unable to hold her tongue. "What's she done now?"

"Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five," Bill grimaced. "AKA; the Ministry has the power to ban all student privileges, including Quidditch. Harry, Fred and George have been thrown off the Gryffindor team."

"I—they what?"

"They got into a fight with Draco Malfoy on the pitch, so she gave them a lifetime ban. Ginny said in her last letter that Umbridge will probably be made Headmistress by Easter."

"That can't happen," Lupin said. "We can't let the Ministry take over Hogwarts. It's the only safe place left."

"Dumbledore has a plan," Moody growled, and several people instantly relaxed. "If she gets control, it won't be for long—now, good reports?"

A few people began to talk about things they'd overheard and relationships they'd made with people who might join the Order in the future. Lara, however, couldn't stop thinking about Fred and George. She'd received a letter from Fred last week, but she had yet to open it. She'd just been so busy with work and worrying about Walter, finding the time to read and reply to it had been difficult. Now she felt awful; it was probably about how he, George and Harry had been thrown off the team, how upset they all were, including Angelina, who was Captain and probably beyond stressed.

She was a horrible friend.

"Now, for delegation," Moody rumbled loudly. "Bill, stay with the goblins. Those of you in the Ministry just need to keep your heads down and ears open. Sirius, for the love of Merlin, stay inside. Molly, keep the morale going. Tonks, you know what you're doing. Culpepper's, where's your next mission for work?"

"Russia," Lara replied. "We're working with Nogtails."

"Try to make some friends," Moody ordered. "You'll be doing something similar to Charlie Weasley—you need to get some foreign people on our side, increase our numbers."

"And if you're working with other beings, you could try and convince them to join, too," said Lupin, peering at the siblings hopefully. "Werewolves, goblins, centaurs; people who can help."

"We can try," Walter replied, sharing a hesitant look with Lara. "I've worked with beings before, though, and they don't usually take too kindly to wizards."

"We can do it," Lara nodded positively, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. "If we treat them with respect, they'll do the same for us. We're on it."

Lupin beamed and turned back to Moody, who nodded distractedly as he looked down at a piece of parchment. "And I'll be doing some ground work," Moody said before addressing the crowd again. "Right, we're done. We'll meet again in a couple of months. Good luck everyone."

He twisted on the spot and apparated with a resounding crack. Several others followed, mostly the Ministry workers, but some stayed, including Walter and Lara, who were still drinking their tea.

"Jolly old chap, that Moody," Sirius said, smacking the table. "I miss him when he's not around."

"You know what he's like," smirked Bill. "He doesn't want to be in charge. He hates it when Dumbledore's not here to take over."

Mr Weasley shook his head, a small smile on his face. "He's a great wizard. He just…struggles with social skills."

"I like him," Lara smiled. "He's straight to the point. I appreciate that."

"He's a teddy bear, really," grinned Tonks, winking at Lara. "You just have to know how to take him."

Finishing off their tea, Lara and Walter bid goodbye to the remaining Order members before Lara apparated them home. They landed in the living room rather heavily, though no one was splinched.

"What a strange day," Lara sighed, rubbing her face with her hands. "Also, I knew people in the Ministry were working for Dumbledore."

"Course they are," said Walter, collapsing onto the couch. "He has loads of friends. Way more friends than Fudge, although he doesn't seem to know it."

"Egotism at its finest," Lara grinned before heading towards the stairs. "Anyway, I have letters to reply to. I'll see you in the morning."

"Have fun," he called after her. "But not too much fun! Keep it clean!"

Lara laughed as she climbed the stairs. As much as she loved her brother, some of his rules were just meant to be broken.

January 1996.

Watching the snow lazily fall outside the window, Lara was reminded of Hogwarts. She'd always loved winter at the castle, where, every year without fail, the sprawling grounds were covered in thick, glittering snow. She thought of the extravagant Christmas decorations and the delicious food. The wet floors that squeaked under the rubber soles of shoes. The red cheeks and noses, the endless scarfs and gloves, the thick school robes, the crackling fire in the Gryffindor common room and her friends, rushing into the Gryffindor tower, rubbing their hands together and complaining about the cold.

What was she doing this time last year?

Merlin, the Yule Ball would have just happened. She was dating David Brentford. She was excited for their first date in Hogsmeade.

Lara let out a small laugh; God, that hadn't went well.

Sighing, Lara grabbed her hot chocolate from the table and took a sip. She also remembered being homesick last year while at Hogwarts, as she usually returned home to spend the holiday with her family. Opening her presents on Christmas morning had caused an ache in her gut, a one she hadn't felt since she was a little first year, not used to being away from home.

Compared to this year, however, last year had been easy. This Christmas, not only did she not return home, she'd also been stuck at a Dragon Reserve in the middle of Sweden. Well, not stuck, per say—it was a part of her job to be there…but she missed home. Despite everything, she missed her parents. They'd been able to exchange letters (as Lara and Walter were staying put in one place rather than moving around all the time) but it wasn't the same. It also didn't help that the Reserve wasn't exactly the most festive place in the world. The only decoration was a Christmas tree in the pub, huddled in the corner and rather miserable looking, the star on top crooked and the tinsel thin and fraying.

The only plus side this year was that she was with her brother. On Christmas Day, they'd exchanged a few presents, had a snowball fight, built a snowman, tried to build an igloo and failed, and then sat near the fire in the pub drinking eggnog with their co-workers. They'd done rather the same on New Year's, except on the night Walter managed to score a cheeky snog from a French Dragon Tamer under some mistletoe. Lara settled for kissing a baby dragon on the cheek.

Now the holidays were over, Lara was feeling better about the situation at the Reserve. The abysmal decorations were gone and everything was back to normal. A batch of Swedish Short-Snouts had hatched a month ago, and it was a big deal for the Magizoologists, who had spent three months keeping the eggs warm and secure after the mother rejected them once they were laid (Walter guessed the father was a prat—Lara, the sensible sibling, knew it was probably because the mother had had a difficult time laying the eggs).

So everything was going well.

But the snow…the snow brought back memories, so many of them, from her first year all the way to her last. Mostly, it reminded Lara of her friends still at Hogwarts, who she missed more than she thought she would, especially with everything that was going on. She wanted to be with them at school, fighting back against Umbridge and causing havoc wherever she could. She wanted to assure them all everything would be okay, that, one day, Umbridge would just be a bad memory.

Instead, she had to settle for sending supportive letters when she could, and sometimes she sent care packages (which consisted of various unused pranks, muggle and wizard; she also sent Angelina a notebook to use for her Quidditch plays). It didn't seem like enough, though they were always well-received. She wanted to do more, but she had no idea how.

"There you are," Walter chirped as he sat opposite Lara with a glass of butterbeer. "I thought you'd be with the babies."

"Just left them," replied Lara, leaning forward to talk to him. She was more than glad for the distraction. "Leticia and Valentina are amazing. Todd's still underweight, but he's getting there. I gave him some extra red meat."

"That's good. Meanwhile, I've been making some ground with the humans," Walter grinned and took a drink. "I've been talking to Maria and she seems interested in what's going on to stop the Dude-With-No-Nose."

"The Dude-With—you know what, never mind. Are you sure she isn't just agreeing with you to get another snog?"

"I haven't been leading with my questions. I just mentioned that he's an arsehole and she was all yes, he is. I wonder if there's any plans in place to stop him in that sexy accent of hers and BAM I think we've got a recruit."

"Have you asked her?"

"I'm gunna do that tomorrow," Walter said. "Don't want to go too fast, you know?"

"I'm sure," Lara replied flatly. "Snogging at New Year's was just dipping a toe in the pool."

"Exactly."

Lara snorted and took another drink of her hot chocolate. Just as the mug touched her lips, the bell above the door jingled and Lara looked over. Three men had walked into the pub, all dressed in long, dark robes and thick boots. They headed for the bar to order; one of them glanced around the bar. When his eyes landed on Lara, he nudged his two friends and nodded towards her.

Uneasy, Lara focused on putting her mug onto the table. "Walt," she said evenly, forcing a smile onto her face as she addressed her brother. "I'm going to say something and I don't want you to freak out, okay?"

"Alright," he replied slowly, narrowing his eyes.

"Three men have just walked into the pub," she rested her chin onto her hand. "And they don't look friendly."

Walter subtly glanced towards the bar. "Bloody hell, I thought you were just telling a really bad joke."

"Their robes kinda look like…"

"Death Eater robes," Walter finished for her. "Yeah."

Lara's heart flipped in her chest. Sitting back in her seat, she reached down to her boots and pretended to itch her calf, though she actually grabbed her wand and hid it behind her thigh. Her hands began to sweat as she gripped the wood. Slowly, the three men grabbed a mug of butterbeer each and headed for the empty tables. Although the whole pub was free, they took the table beside Walter and Lara. Lara managed to give them a polite smile; she didn't want to cause problems before it was necessary.

"Hey there," one of the men grinned towards Lara, showing off a set of straight teeth. He was rather handsome with his curly dark hair and unshaven face, but there was something about his eyes that made her blood cold. "What's your name?"

"Ashley," Lara replied instantly. "Ashley Black."

"Black, ey?" another one of the men asked. "From the British Black's?"

"Of course," Walter nodded. "Our grandfather was a Black. I'm her brother, Ellis, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, mate," the first man said and all the men shook hands. "I'm Avery, that's Rosier and that one over there is Carrow."

Lara struggled to keep her breathing under control; all of their names were well-known across the nation for being associated with the Dark Arts.

"From Britain, then?" Walter asked, nudging Lara with his foot under the table.

"Aye," said Rosier. "Born and bred. How long have you been 'ere?"

"'bout two month," Lara managed to choke out. "We came in mid-November to help out with some baby dragons."

"So you know what's going on at home, then?" Carrow questioned, his eyes glinting dangerously. "With Dumbledore and the Dark Lord?"

"Oh, yeah," Walter nodded quickly. "Who doesn't, right?"

The men let out small laughs as they agreed. "Very true," said Avery. "And once everything kicks off, you want to be on the winning side, right?"

Lara's fingers strained on her wand. "Obviously," she replied calmly. "What do you think the winning side will be?"

"The Dark Lord's side," Carrow gasped, as if offended she would even ask the question. "He's the most powerful man in the world."

"Funny," hummed Walter. "I seem to remember him being defeated by a one-year-old."

The three Death Eaters blanched and inched away from the siblings. Rosier started to turn red in the face from anger as he said, "That was a fluke. Not even the Dark Lord could predict should old magic."

"He couldn't predict that a mother loves her son?" Lara scoffed. "That she'd be willing to die for him?"

"See, that's where I've always thought he went wrong," Walter said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "He knows the spells, he knows the curses, he has no problems with killing…but he doesn't understand love, and that'll always be his downfall."

"Downfall—"

"Poor guy," Lara pouted. "Maybe we should buy him a kitty."

Walter shrugged. "I don't think Voldemort would suit a kitten."

The three men jumped to their feet at once, banishing their wands. Lara and Walter did the same on the other side of the table. Behind them, the man at the bar yelped and ran through the backdoor.

"YOU DARE SPEAK HIS NAME!" Avery screamed shrilly.

"It's just a name," Walter responded sassily. "It's not even a good one, either. What the hell does it even mean? Vol-de-mort—it sounds like a venereal disease."

"Merlin, Walt," muttered Lara, just before the first curse was thrown.

Rosier whipped his wand and sent a green streak of light towards Walter, who easily jumped out of the way. Then, Carrow threw a chair towards Lara, and that was how she knew her first official fight had begun.

Hexes and curses were sent back and forth, exploding furniture and creating black singe marks on the walls. Rosier went down fairly fast after being stunned by Walter, and Carrow seemed to struggle with more complicated spells, so he just hauled things at Lara, which she easily dodged. Eventually, she managed to cast a stunning spell that hit him right in the chest, sending him flying into the fireplace. He hit his head quite hard on the mantelpiece, so much so that Lara actually cringed before looking for her brother.

He was duelling Avery, the most skilled fighter of the three men. They were both holding their own, green and red sparks soaring across the room. However, Avery hadn't noticed that Lara had defeated her two opponents, so when she turned her wand into a whip and wrapped it around his ankles, he didn't see it coming and fell to the ground with a thump.

Lara dragged him across the floor and put her knees onto his chest. For a second, she paused, grabbing her breath, before she pointed the wand at Avery's face. "Tell us where Voldemort is," she demanded, her voice hitching slightly at the use of the evil wizard's name. She'd never said it aloud before, but she was starting to realise rather quickly that she needed to be brave.

"Never," Avery replied, a sick grin appearing on his face. "This your first time, darling?"

"Interrogating someone? Yes, it is. You see, I'm not a creep like you. I don't torture people for fun."

"How can you say that if you've never tried it before?" he smirked. "I bet you feel powerful, right? Your hearts thumping in your chest, adrenalines rushing through your veins…you feel on top of the world. You want to hurt me."

As a matter of fact, she felt rather ill. She wanted nothing more than to get off of him, help him up, dust off his shoulders and go to help his friends. She wanted to offer them tea and biscuits to recover from the trauma. She wanted to place them next to a roaring fire to warm them up after the long trek here.

The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him…but he couldn't know that.

"Tell us where he is," she pressed her wand into his cheek. "Where's he hiding?"

"Why would I tell you? You wouldn't scare a fucking fly—"

"Maybe," Walter said and stood on the Death Eater's throat, his boot digging into the skin. "But I've been told I'm a little more intimidating. Tell us."

"I won't—"

Avery began to choke as Walter applied more pressure. "Sorry, I didn't catch that," Walter said.

"I—I—won't—say—"

Walter fully stood on his chest. Avery spluttered and began to struggle under the weight.

"Walter," Lara murmured warningly. "Walter, let up a bit."

Avery was beginning to turn red.

"Walter."

"Do you think he cared when he was shooting the Killing Curse at me?" Walter snapped. "When his friends were trying to kill you?"

Lara sighed; he was right. If the Death Eaters played dirty, they had to, as well.

"I'll tell—I'll tell you—just get—get off me—"

Walter beamed exaggeratedly and stepped off. "Nice doing business with you."

"He's—"

A curse came flying out of nowhere. Lara had to dive forward to avoid it, sending Walter to the floor with her. Rosier had woken up and was charging towards them, his wand pointed squarely at Lara's face. Gasping in fright, she rolled over to hide beneath a table. Walter picked up a chair and chucked it at Rosier, who tripped and fell to the ground.

While this was going on, Avery had scrambled to his feet and towards the door. Carrow, who was slowly coming round, stumbled after him. With his friends no longer backing him up, Rosier looked scared. Lara tried to take advantage and came out from under the table, aiming a stunning spell towards his sternum, but he leapt out of the way and burst out of the front door.

"Son of a bitch," Lara hissed, turning to her brother. "Shall we go after them?"

"In this snow? There's no way we can—"

SMASH.

Something burst through the front window. Squealing in surprise, Lara turned and saw a fire beginning to gather on the rug.

"Walter—Walter, we gotta go!" she yelped, reaching for his hand and dragging him out the door.

The fire was spreading quickly, burning the wooden chairs and tables, rolling up the curtains and across the floor. As the siblings fell out into the snow, Lara heard their names being called out from the distance.

"What iz going on?" yelled a heavily accented voice. Maria burst onto the scene, fussing over Walter. "What 'appened? Why iz the reserve on fire?"

"Death Eaters torched the fucking place," Walter grunted, rolling onto his back with a groan. "They came to recruit."

"Death Eaters?" one of the Irish Dragon Tamers gasped. "The cheeky fuckers!"

Anya Boyer, a Danish Magizoologist, came over to Lara to help her up. "Are you okay, Lara?"

"I'm fine, just a little shocked," she replied. "We need to put out the fire!"

The Dragon Tamers and Magizoologists worked together to put out the blaze, but by the time they did, the whole pub was destroyed, which meant all the living quarters were gone, too. Thankfully, the dragons, which were kept out back in stables, were unharmed.

"We'll have to take the kids to Romania," Anya said as the group stood in the snow, staring upon the ruined Reserve.

Everything was scorched to smithereens, and thick, black smoke swirled in the air, making the snow falling from the sky glitter in the air. Lara put her hands to her mouth; all of her belongings had been in her bedroom above the pub, including all her work things, like her maps and her journals. Even her backpack, which had cost a small fortune, was gone. They were material things that didn't really matter, but it still hurt.

"I'll take 'em," the Irish guy offered. "I'll probably be sent there now this place is a fucking bonfire."

Maria tiredly rubbed her face. "I will go witz you."

"Walter, Lara, go back to England," Anya ordered with a sigh. "Report to the Ministry. They won't do anything about it, but you can try. We'll take the babies to Romania. They're in safe hands."

"I will send letters," Maria said, nodding at Walter. "To join zee resistance."

Walter nodded and turned to Lara. "I'll make a Portkey, come on."

With one last look at the broken pub, Lara followed her brother. That place had been her home for the past two months and now it was gone, all because of three stupid Death Eaters trying to recruit people. It was a tough pill to swallow…but Lara had a feeling there was a lot worse to come.

After reporting to their boss at the Ministry (who said he'd pass the news onto Fudge, who, according to Crane, would 'ignore this just like he everything else—the prat'), Lara and Walter went home for the first time in nearly three months. Their little house was murky and slightly stale, but it was exactly how Lara remembered it; oddly mismatched and filled with animal-themed furniture. Upstairs, her bed was made, numerous pillows spread across the duvet, and begging her to jump into it.

It was the best night's sleep she'd had for weeks. At the Reserve, she could hear dragons mewling and roaring outside all through the night, followed by the yelps and cries of the Dragon Tamers and Magizoologists. At home, she couldn't hear a thing…not a thing…

"LARA."

"What?" she gasped, throwing herself into sitting position. "Is it the babies? Are they hungry?"

"No, it's worse—Merlin," he rushed over to her bed, perching himself beside her. "Look."

He shoved a newspaper at her. Through bleary eyes, Lara looked down and saw a copy of the Prophet. For a moment, she wondered why Walter would even have it considering he preferred The Quibbler, but then she saw the front page headline:

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN

MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS "RALLYING POINT" FOR OLD DEATH EATERS

Her eyes scanned the main article, a sense of dread growing stronger and stronger in her stomach with each word. As she finished reading Fudge's warning to the public about not approaching the individuals, Lara let out a long, stilted breath and said, "Holy shit."

"I can't believe it," Walter jumped to his feet, rubbing his hands across his face. "Fudge was told this would happen and he didn't fucking listen. Now look—ten more Death Eaters are on the loose!"

"Not just any Death Eaters, either. These are the worst of the worst."

"His gaining power again," whispered Walter. "Just like before. And now that Lestrange woman is out…"

"Shit hits the fan, yeah," Lara sighed. "So what do we do?"

"We're having another meeting tonight. But right now, I'm making a portkey and I'm going to talk to Charlie."

"You're making an unauthorised portkey?" Lara called after him as he left her bedroom. "Really?"

"If the Ministry has a problem, they can bite me."

Lara rolled her eyes and collapsed back into her bed, staring at the faces on the front page. Every single one of the Death Eaters had wild, vacant stares, and their faces were ravaged by the trauma of Azkaban. Even Bellatrix Lestrange, who was Black and therefore infamous for her good looks, looked old and haggard. Staring at her hooded, dark eyes, Lara was suddenly reminded of Sirius, who was hauled up in Grimmauld Place being blamed for the Death Eaters 1995 Great Escape, despite the fact that he was an innocent man.

Merlin…she couldn't even imagine being in his position…and to spend all those years in Azkaban…

Lara sighed and threw the newspaper onto the floor. Rolling back over, she decided to have another few hours' sleep.

By the time she'd woke up, eaten, bathed and got in touch with her friends, Walter returned from his trip to Romania. He said little about it, only that Charlie was as disgusted with the Ministry as they were and to tell his family he was thinking of them. So, after eating tea, Lara and Walter made their way to London. They had to apparate to the Leaky Cauldron before making their way through the city.

It was just getting dark outside as Lara stepped into Grimmauld Place. Down the murky hallway, Lara could see a head of short bubble-gum pink hair. Without really thinking, Lara called out, "Tonks! Hey!"

Walter hissed and slammed his hand over her mouth. "Lara—"

A sickening screech echoed down the hallway. Two curtains had flown apart on the wall, ones Lara had passed before. She'd assumed they led to a door, but instead there was a portrait of an old, deranged looking woman with dark hair and eyes, drooling as her mouth stretched to scream. Her yells woke up the other portraits in the hallway and Lara cringed at the noise.

"Filth! Scrum! You filthy, disgusting little half-breeds! You mutants, you freaks—how dare you enter the house of my ancestors! How dare you walk on the very same floor my father walked—"

"Oh, shut UP," Tonks snapped, stomping her foot as she reached for the curtains. "Shut up, shut up—"

"You disgusting half-breed! Embarrassment to the family! Filthy, filthy blood!"

"Just leave it, Tonks!" Walter yelled, marching Lara down the hallway towards the kitchen door. "Come on, she'll shut up in a minute!"

Tonks huffed, glared at the woman in the portrait and stomped down the stairs, Lara and Walter following close behind. As the woman's voice faded into the background, Lara gulped and said, "What was that?"

"My darling old mother," a voice said from the table. Sirius Black was sat with Remus, grinning towards Lara amusedly. "Delightful, isn't she?"

"I was thinking more like…hostile?"

"She had issues," he shrugged unconcernedly before reaching forward. "Good to see you again, Culpepper."

"You, too," Lara shook his hand, glancing back towards the hallway. "Bloody hell, my ears are ringing."

There was a collective snigger across the large room. Turning away from the staircase, Lara saw that the rest of the Order were already here, pouring over scrolls and parchments, sipping wine from glasses and butterbeer from goblets. Molly Weasley was bustling around the kitchen, offering sandwiches, biscuits and tea. As Lara waved to everyone in greeting, Tonks gently touched her elbow.

"Someone should've warned you about Mrs Black," she smirked, sending Walter an accusing look. "I've set her off so many times—I always trip over the bloody umbrella stand."

"The troll leg, you mean?" Lara shivered. "That thing's so gross."

"I know. I tried to figure out how they got it once—never again."

"I dread to think," murmured Lara, glancing towards the Order members. "What're they doing?"

"Looking over You-Know-Who's favourite places to hide out in the First War," Tonks whispered back. "They're trying to figure out if they can break into anywhere and see if the Death Eaters are hiding out. But since he got more powerful, he's put loads of concealment charms everywhere."

"Some of them have left the country to recruit, too."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that," Tonks nodded. "There was no need to burn the place down."

"There's no need for a lot of shit they do," Lara replied and Tonks snorted in agreement.

"What about Malfoy Manor?" Bill said loudly, looking up to Moody. "It's a massive place."

"It's a good idea, but we won't be able to break in," Lupin replied.

"Why not?"

"Attacking someone in their own home is never a good plan," Moody grumbled. "They could have tricks you don't know about. They know the layout of the house better than you do. They have the upper hand from the get-go. We don't need to give them more power."

Bill sighed dejectedly. "You're right. What about Gringotts?"

"Unless they're hiding in the safes, then probably not," said Emmeline Vance, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

The Order members began to exchange ideas back and forth. Lara sat down at the table beside Arthur Weasley, who she noticed was rather pale and drawn. He hadn't said anything since she turned up, even as the other Order members began to argue around him. He simply cradled his mug of tea and stared at the tawny liquid.

"Are you okay, Mr Weasley?" Lara asked quietly.

He jumped slightly, as if remembering where he was. "Oh, yes, of course. Just a little tired, is all."

"Well, you probably had a busy Christmas," smiled Lara, "With everyone back from school."

"I certainly did," he laughed slightly. "It was one of our more eventful holidays."

"Eventful?" Molly Weasley squeaked, having overheard as she walked around with a plate of Custard Creams. "Honestly, Arthur, you cannot describe what we went through as eventful—"

"What you went through?" Lara repeated. "What happened?"

"Arthur was attacked by You-Know-Who's snake," Molly said and her hands began to shake. Noticing this, she placed the plate of biscuits onto the table. "While he was on a mission for the Order."

Lara's jaw dropped. Why hadn't she known this? She'd received countless letters from Fred and George over winter…well, she had until a few days before Christmas, anyway. The letters had suddenly stopped then, but Lara thought they were just too busy with family to send anything. About two weeks ago, she'd finally got a letter from them, but the baby dragons needed feeding and then a Swedish Short-Snout ate a frog and was throwing up everywhere and then a Spanish Dragon Tamer got severely burnt by a Chinese Fireball—there was just one thing after another. With everything going on, she hadn't been able to read or reply to the letter…and now it was in charred bits in the middle of Sweden.

"Merlin…" breathed Lara, glancing between Mr and Mrs Weasley sympathetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Well, there's no way you could, dear," Molly said, patting Lara's shoulder. "Not while you were working. Anyway, he's okay now, aren't you, Arthur? He just gets tired sometimes, that's all."

Arthur gave Lara a flat look as he nodded. Giggling, and trying to hide it with a cough, Lara said, "That's great. I don't know what we'd do without you, Arthur. Who would keep Bill in line?"

"Speaking of," Arthur chuckled, looking towards his eldest son. "Bill, calm down. The Death Eaters will know we're looking for them. They'll move around all the time to make sure we can't find them."

"And if Voldemort doesn't have a plan to get to Harry already, then I'll eat my socks," Walter said, and several people winced at the use of You-Know-Who's name. Walter rolled his eyes before continuing; "We should be focusing on that rather than where the Death Eaters are, 'cause where Voldemort is—oh, honestly, it's just a name—the Death Eaters will be, too."

"Well, he'll be going after the prophecy, won't he?" said Tonks.

"Obviously," Bill agreed while Lara felt rather confused. "We'll just have to keep up patrols, then. And send patronus' if we see anything strange—"

"Eh, sorry to be a pain," Lara leaned forward on the table. "But what prophecy?"

"You haven't told her about the prophecy?" Tonks asked dubiously, turning to Walter. "You bloody idiot. What have you told her?"

"Eh…" Walter awkwardly shoved his hands into his pockets. "I was kinda hoping she'd want out by the time she had to hear it…"

Bill rolled his eyes and looked to Lara. "The Prophecy was a prediction made by Sybill Trelawney years ago about Harry Potter and You-Know-Who. Nobody really knows what it says, but it must give some important information because You-Know-Who is after it. Dumbledore said we have to make sure he doesn't get it, or hear it."

"Oh, right," Lara said, frowning. "Well, where is it?"

"In the Ministry, near the Time Room of the Unspeakable department," said Hestia Jones.

"You can sign me up for a patrol, if you want," Lara said quietly. "Now Arthur isn't very well."

Walter looked absolutely horrified by the suggestion. "Whoa, if she's patrolling, I'm patrolling with her."

"Not a problem," Moody said and nodded towards Bill. "Put them down."

Bill scribbled their name down onto a piece of parchment. Lara sat back in her chair, her arms crossed. The Order began to talk around her, but their voices sounded muffled and far-away. She knew she'd done the right thing by offering to patrol, but Merlin she was terrified. What if Voldemort turned up while she and Walter were on their rounds? She had no idea what she'd do. Send a patronus? By the time it even got out, she and Walter could be dead. Voldemort wasn't exactly known for his mercy, especially for Order members.

Dumbledore's warning about choosing between what is right and what is easy had never been more difficult. It would be so easy to just go home, crawl into bed and hide under the covers until this whole thing was over. Lara wasn't special; she wasn't from a special family, her family members weren't in the Order in the First War, and all of her family members were pure-blood's. There was nothing that would make her stand out, nothing that put her or her family members in immediate and obvious danger. She could hide and hope and pray, leaving the difficult parts to the special people, the daring people.

But was hiding the right thing to do? Of course it wasn't. It wasn't right to leave the work to everyone else, it wasn't right to expect good people to give up their lives for her, it wasn't right to just sit back and watch without helping—it wasn't right for the Hufflepuff boy with the crooked smile, and it certainly wasn't right for the sad boy with the bright green eyes.

All her friends…her brother…they were all going to be part of the Order. Fred had already told her about a secret organisation at school called Dumbledore's Army, a resistance against Umbridge and the Ministry. All her friends from school were in it, and Lara didn't doubt that once they were all in the real world, they'd join the Order of the Phoenix. It was in their natures.

Erin, Amanda, Omar, Stan…when they found out about the Order, they'd want to join, too. Lara wasn't allowed to say anything yet, not until the Ministry had confirmed Voldemort was back, but one day…

It was the right thing to do…which meant she was going to do it, because easy wasn't an option in a world like this.

hey guys! hope you enjoyed this monster chapter. it was meant to be two chapters initially, which is why the structure is weird af, but i reckon i've slacked on the updating a bit recently so i merged them together. hope this gave you some more Order and Walter interaction, too. I tried to look at the last chapter from a Gryffindor perspective (and i'm a hardcore slytherin so that was never going to go well) and the idea that Lara already knew Walter was involved in something, she just didnt know about the order specifically. but in hindsight, it may have come across a bit rushed-my bad. i might go back and flesh it out one day. if any of you gryffindors have any tips give me a shout.

thanks for all the love for this story and i hope its giving you guys a bit of a break from the absolute shit show that is 2020. bloody hell. its been a long year hasn't it? i'm in scotland and we're pretty much back on full lockdown which is...not ideal, but maybe more time for writing? so that might be nice. and if anyone has actually read this far...how are you doing? i'd love to hear how people are coping with all this going on.