Disclaimer: See Chapter one. Reviews will continue to be addressed by e-mail only. Thanks for reading.
Updated: Monday, 19 September 2005
Beta'd by: 3-Legged Dog
Chapter 04: Full House
It was a little before midnight. After saying goodnight to his former Professor, Harry had immersed himself in yet another Quidditch magazine from his godfather's collection, biding his time until midnight – his birthday. After a few weeks of leading a sedentary lifestyle within the restricting walls of his new London home, Harry found he was increasingly tired and lacking energy. This lack of activity, combined with a constant supply of nutritious, wholesome food, had not only seen the young Gryffindor fill out in all the right places, but it also made him susceptible to falling asleep once in the comfortable confines of his bed. So, despite his intentions to honour his age-old tradition, Harry Potter fell asleep before midnight, his bedside lamp alight, glasses slightly askew on his bowed head, and magazine in his lap.
A few hours before dawn, Sirius, who had ascended to the attic level of the house to oversee Buckbeak's transportation to Grimmauld Place – part of an elaborate relocation neither child was aware of – saw the light flickering under his godson's door and immediately went to investigate. Seeing quite plainly that his godson had intended to see in his birthday in secret, Sirius was struck by an idea… one that subsequently threw weeks of careful planning out the window.
Barrelling downstairs to first wake his daughter, Sirius startled a bleary-eyed Remus, whose keen sense of hearing had awoken him and sent him out into the hall to investigate.
"Sirius, what on earth is going on?" Remus whispered hoarsely, mindful not to wake the slumbering teenagers. Dawn was still several hours away. "Did Buckbeak's Portkey not activate?"
"No time to explain, there's been a change of plan." Sirius informed his friend breathlessly as he brushed past the man and bodily opened his daughter's door. "I suggest you go pack."
"Sirius…" Remus was quick on the uptake. "You cannot be serious!"
"Ah, Moony, you read my mind." Sirius smiled at his friend and lit up his daughter's room. "But I am Sirius, and you wouldn't have it any other way, admit it!"
Remus waved his hands in the air in defeat. "Fine." he sighed. "But for the record let me state that, whatever you do, I refuse any part in it."
"Any part in what?" a groggy Estella sat up in bed and rubbed at her eyes, the light sleeper having awoken to the light and murmur of voices in her room. "Dad, what on earth is going on? It's the middle of the night!"
"Get up. Pack." Sirius tugged at her blankets excitedly before rushing over to her trunk and cupboards, haphazardly opening drawers and throwing things across the room. "No time to explain; it's a surprise."
Sensing from her father's tone and her godfather's nonchalant response that this was just another of her father's hair-brained ideas, Estella rolled out of bed and began to pick up the items her father was throwing at the trunk.
"Oh, this is simply taking too long!" he exclaimed, drawing his wand and aiming it at her trunk impatiently. "Pack!"
Estella had to duck to avoid the enthusiastic rush of all her favoured belongings as they flew directly into her trunk.
"Dad! How am I supposed to find anything now?" she whined. "I am perfectly capable of packing!"
"What are you doing just standing there?" he looked at her impatiently, the man himself hopping from one foot to the next in unbidden excitement. "Get dressed!… no… that will take too long…"
Before Estella had a chance to protest, her father had transfigured her pyjamas into a robe and cloak. Only problem was that he had been so distracted and excited as he'd done it that the material still felt like the soft linen of pyjamas and retained much of the same colouring and design… including the animated pixies.
"I can't go out wearing this!" Estella shrieked, protesting as her father promptly shrunk her trunk – complete with all her clothes – and started to push her out of the door. "I look like a circus act!"
Watching from the doorway to his bedroom with detached amusement, Remus flicked his wand at his goddaughter lazily and corrected the problem. "Keep an eye on your father, cub," was all he said before making an act of yawning and stretching. "I'll catch up in the morning after I've had a full night's rest."
"Is that all you're going to say?" Estella gaped at her godfather. "Why aren't you coming?" Remus didn't answer as he simply retreated into his room and closed the door. Turning her attention to her father who was tugging at her insistently, motioning towards the stairs to the attic, she continued on her tirade. "Why isn't he coming? Where are we going? Why are we going in the middle of the night?"
"Because it's Harry's birthday, and I want to make it a day you'll never forget, now come on!" Sirius practically carried her up the stairs. "Let's wake him up!"
After seeing how her father had chosen to awaken the deeply slumbering Harry, Estella was acutely grateful for the fact that she was a light sleeper. With equal amounts of urgency and haphazard disorientation, Sirius had Harry's trunk packed and the dishevelled boy dressed before the young Seeker even had a chance to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
"What's going on, Sirius?" Harry asked, perplexed. Getting no answers from the over-excited Animagus as he dragged both children towards Buckbeak's room, the bespectacled Gryffindor looked to Estella for explanation.
"Don't look at me," Estella shrugged. "I know as much as you do… my Dad's gone crazy!"
"And he can still hear you." the man in question growled, poking his daughter in the ribs as he barrelled them through the door and towards the awaiting Hippogriff.
After dispensing with the required pleasantries with the proud beast, Sirius shuffled impatiently and gestured towards the animal's broad back. "What are you waiting for? Get on!"
The two teenagers looked at him in stunned silence, their limbs rooted to the spot.
"What? But-"
"Stop." Sirius silenced their protests with his hand, and he regarded them with a uncharacteristic clarity in his eyes, his tone turning serious. "Do you trust me?" Both children nodded without hesitation. The wild look returned to his eye. "Then hurry up and get on!"
Grumbling confused protests under their breaths, the two teens climbed onto Buckbeak. Harry swinging his leg over the crouching creature's back with an air of confidence, whilst Estella was a little more hesitant and was helped to settle behind Harry by her father. Once Sirius had climbed on behind both of the children in his care, he muttered an unfamiliar charm under his breath; his wand pointed at the window. Seeing the profiles of the children before him stiffen in awe as the window opened and enlarged to grant them leave, he grinned.
"Honestly," he chuckled, his chest rumbling against Estella's back, causing the girl to look up at him in question. "How do you think we got Buckbeak up here?"
"Uh… Portkey?" Estella rolled her eyes.
"Quiet you." Sirius shook his head and sighed. His daughter was right, as usual. "Let me rephrase… how else did you think we were going to go for a ride?"
Estella swallowed audibly, whilst Harry leant forward and grasped Buckbeak's mane more tightly.
"Wicked," Harry flashed a rare grin back at his godfather, his emerald eyes ablaze with the promise of flight.
"Mad!" Estella countered, tightening her grip on the younger Gryffindor, only relaxing her hold when she felt her father's arms cradle her protectively.
"Did you think I had us sit on Buckbeak for our health?" Sirius laughed, but his tone retained a hint of exasperation. "Just trust me, all right?"
"I do trust you, Dad." Estella assured him, relaxing in his arms and looking up at him from where her head rested on his shoulder. "But that doesn't mean I don't think you're completely and utterly insaaaane-"
The rest of Estella's sentence was cut abruptly short as the Hippogriff took to flight, the sudden rush of wind and movement causing the young Ravenclaw to scream.
By the time Estella came back to her senses, they were high above London and both her companions were laughing in unadulterated glee. Feeling completely safe in their company, she shook her head in mirth and tried to get her father's attention.
"Where, exactly, are we going?" she asked.
"Ever the realist," her father admonished her lightly, but he had to yell to be heard against the wind. "Does it really matter where we're going?"
Sighing, Estella shrugged and wrapped her cloak around herself tightly. The cool, predawn breeze was a stark contrast to the warm embrace of her bed, but she was not about to complain. They'd never let her live it down. Instead, she snuggled closer to both Harry and her father, drawing warmth from their close presence. Soon enough, Estella recognised the street below as being Grimmauld Place, and she knew where they were headed. Sensing his daughter's puzzlement, Sirius offered an explanation.
"Surprise." he said.
Now it was Harry's turn to look over his shoulder at his godfather in question. "Where are we?" he asked as they touched down on a neglected, flat roof.
"The ancient and most noble house of Black," father and daughter recited simultaneously, a false tone of importance in their voice as they struggled to keep straight faces.
"Is this the surprise you've been keeping from me all week, Sirius?" Harry asked as his godfather bustled them into the house through a trapdoor on the roof and led them directly into what he later discovered to be Estella's room.
"What surprise?" Sirius asked innocently, a coy smile playing at his lips. "I don't know anything about any surprise… now get to sleep you two, breakfast won't be for another couple of hours."
"You realise you just completely contradicted yourself," Estella eyed him carefully. Her room had been refitted with two beds, which suggested some measure of premeditation to his madness. Yawning theatrically, she threw herself on one of the twin beds and made herself comfortable. "Good night… finally."
Sensing an ulterior motive in his daughter's action, Sirius raised a brow. "Oh, that's so not going to work, missy!" he smirked. "Don't think I don't know that you're just going to sneak downstairs the moment I leave the room!"
"Why would I do that, Dad?" Estella challenged slyly. "Is there something downstairs we shouldn't see?"
Harry looked between Sirius and Estella, an awakening sense of realisation clouding his features. Catching the look Estella directed towards him and following her eyes to the door, he took the chance to dart past Sirius and make for the exit. Sirius, however, had fully anticipated the move, and had fired a spell at the door before Harry could so much as touch the doorknob.
"Hey! No fair… we can't use magic, we're at a disadvantage!" Estella pouted, reminding her father of the Marauder's sense of honour.
"Hey!" Sirius mirrored his daughter's indignant tone. "Just who is the adult here?"
"Oh well that's convenient." Estella scowled playfully, crossing her arms across her chest, "of all the times to pull rank!"
"Ah, you're just sulky because I decided to use my power!" Sirius loomed over her bed menacingly, a malevolent glint in his stormy eyes as he looked at each child in turn. "But I know you two too well." his eyes travelled to the door as he began to pace pensively. "It's not entirely safe to lock children in a room…"
Estella's eyes flew wide in anticipation, the wheels in her mind beginning to turn as she tried to remember which floorboards in the hallway creaked.
Sirius locked eyes with her knowingly before turning to Harry, who was sitting on his bed, propped up against the headboard. "…and it's not entirely safe for young children to go traversing around this house without… permission."
Estella looked from her father to Harry, smirking at the wide-eyed apprehension she saw on the naïve Gryffindor's face. Seeing the look on his daughter's face and seemingly remembering that Harry had the infamous invisibility cloak at his disposal, Sirius drew himself up. "I see," he said, toying with the wand in his hand. "I have no choice."
At that, Sirius transformed into Padfoot with a pop; his shaggy black form disappearing into the shadows of the room as he moved to stand guard in front of the door. Eying the abandoned wand on the floor, Estella's smirk grew into a toothy grin. Giving Harry a meaningful look before rising from the bed slowly and pocketing her father's wand, she slowly approached the Animagus.
"You do realise, that you are now without a wand and out numbered, don't you?" she grinned victoriously at the dog, who hadn't moved; except to follow her movements with amused eyes. "Harry?"
She needn't have called for him though, because before Estella even knew what was happening, Harry had pounced on Padfoot, covering the dog with the heavy coverlet from his bed and trapping the pliant Animagus within the folds. Smiling approvingly at Harry, Estella took a step towards the now unobstructed door, but then froze.
"Wait," she narrowed her eyes at the innocent looking mutt, who, if it was even possible, looked as though it was smiling. "That was far too easy."
Shrugging, Harry impatiently stole past Estella and tried the doorknob. "Locked!" he muttered incredulously, before turning and glaring at Padfoot with equal indignation.
"No fair!" Estella wagged her finger at the dog before staring at the lock intensely, an idea forming in her mind. "I wonder…" she muttered to herself as she approached the door and ran a hand across the finely polished wood. Closing her eyes, she thought of how the house would surely follow her grandmother's lead in favouring her as its heir, and she tried to use it to her advantage by willing the house to reject the locking spell her father had cast. Closing her hand around the doorknob, she jiggled it experimentally and was ecstatic to hear the subtle click of the lock sliding open. Having sensed the ripple in the wards – for he was still technically the master of the house – Sirius, or rather Padfoot, had known what the girl had done before she herself was even aware. As such, Estella didn't get the chance to so much as tell Harry the door was unlocked before she was knocked to the ground by the heavy mass of her father's Animagus form.
"Harry!" Estella shrieked in laughter as her father's paws tickled her sides. "Help!"
In the process of trying to help the captured child, Harry somehow ended up on the floor next to Estella, the pair of them tangled up in the blanket that had formerly entombed Padfoot, with said dog lying heavily over their torsos.
"Oomph!" Estella groaned, unable to budge the large dog's weight. Much like the Animagus' human form, Padfoot had also gained a healthy amount of weight since the previous summer; and was stronger, too.
Their struggles proving fruitless – for all it did was tangle them up even more – the children tired quickly and gave in. Too exhausted to even concede defeat and carry themselves the few feet across the room to their beds, they fell asleep where they lay, an equally tired and immovable Animagus becoming a dead weight on their legs.
The hours passed quickly for the threesome, and all too soon the mid morning sun was streaming through the open curtains, the diffused rays warming them where they lay. One by one they started to stir lazily, no one quite awake or aware of their entanglement on the floor until a frantic pounding on the door startled them to awareness.
"Sirius! Estella!" Remus' voice was hoarse with worry. "Let me in! Are you in there?"
"No we're not here," Estella drawled sarcastically, her voice thick with sleep. "Go away!"
"Why is the door locked?" Remus asked, his hand jiggling the door knob forcefully. Estella, the rousing Harry and Padfoot could hear the impatient werewolf unsuccessfully fire an unlocking charm at the door. "It won't open!"
Estella rolled her eyes, and, before her father could change back into his human form, she got up and opened the door effortlessly. Though she could not quite understand how she did it, she supposed it was a similar sort of selective responsiveness that the wards permitted… much like how her father had been the only one able to open his bedroom door at home that day over Christmas.
"Well, about time!" Remus stumbled into the room, coming to rest directly across from a bewildered looking Sirius. "Why on earth did you ward the door locked like that? Kreacher would do anything Estella asks of him-"
"Estella," Sirius cut the rambling Marauder off, darting forward past his friend to inspect the door closely. "What did you do?"
"Uh, I opened the door?" Estella rolled her eyes at her father and shrugged.
"But… but… but…" Sirius stammered, his hands swinging the door on its hinges, his eyes darting from one side of the wood to another. "How?"
Sighing with exasperation, Estella made a show of trudging across to her father and demonstrating, in simple terms, the purposes of a door knob. "See?" she said condescendingly. "You take the handle, and you twist it like so-"
"Don't get smart with me!" Sirius growled, frustrated at not having an answer. "You… you did something! I locked it! Remus couldn't even open it with a spell!"
"What's going on here?" Remus looked between the father and daughter, his eyes narrowing at what he saw.
"Oh, nothing Moony." Estella said breezily as she walked over and wrapped her godfather up in a light hug. Turning back to her father from her place safe in Remus' arms, she added wistfully. "Guess the house only really listens to Blacks."
Remus' hands tightened around Estella in shock at the same time Sirius opened his mouth to speak. "You commanded the wards?" he asked dryly, eyes wide.
"Is that what I did?" Estella mused innocently, shrugging nonchalantly. "Yeah, I guess that's it then."
"But I locked it!" Sirius spluttered. "I'm the master of this house! It shouldn't listen to you yet!"
"Guess the house likes me better than you." Estella suggested.
"It must be something about this room. Regulus always used to make doors slam in my face and the stairs trip me up." Sirius scowled at the memory. "I hate this house. Moony, let's burn it down!"
"Shhh!" Estella scolded him, laughing as she went to give the sulking man a hug. "The roof will fall on your head as you sleep if you keep talking like that! No one will be burning anything down."
"You're right," said Sirius, ruffling her hair. "Besides, this place would give off toxic smoke and poison the neighbourhood out of spite."
"Have I told you today that you're weird?" Estella cocked a brow at her father, staring up at him through thick lashes.
"Oh, so I'm weird and insane." Sirius echoed her words from their flight the night before, a tone of mock hurt in his voice.
"She's amazing…" Remus smirked. "It's taken her how long to figure out what took Prongs and me, what, seven years?"
"Y'know, Moony," Sirius scowled. "Just because you're my daughter's godfather, don't think I wouldn't hesitate from hexing you!"
"What do you call that, then?" Remus grinned, indicating Sirius' hesitation and taking the opportunity to pull Harry in front of him as a human shield. "Sorry, Harry… but your godfather is cowering behind my godchild. It's only fair."
"Cowering!" Sirius spluttered indignantly. "Cowering! I'm not doing anything of the sort! Estella just happens to be standing in front of me!"
"Not anymore." Estella stepped aside, giving her godfather a clear shot. Seeing his vulnerability, Sirius grasped for his wand, only to remember that he'd discarded it when he'd transformed into Padfoot.
"You wouldn't hex an unarmed man, Moony." Sirius straightened up, confident of his friend's morals. "Marauder's code…"
"Oh, like you paid attention to that last night!" Estella scoffed. "Oh, that's right, you were pulling rank then. Go ahead Moony!"
"Mmmm… decisions, decisions." Remus twirled his wand in his hand, letting go of Harry's shoulder so both children could be well clear of the pair.
After taunting Sirius with his offensive stance for a few moments, he simply tucked his wand in his sleeve and shrugged. "On second thoughts, I wouldn't want to make a mess of this fine room, and you lot are running a trifle late."
"By Merlin, you're right!" Sirius jerked into awareness, his eyes widening at the clock as he accepted back his wand from Estella's outstretched hand. "Hurry up and get ready you two! Harry, shower! Remus, you keep Estella in here… I'm going to go get ready."
Knowing not to argue with Sirius when he was in such an excited state, Harry pulled some clothes out of his enlarged trunk and followed Estella's direction to the attached bathroom before Sirius had left the room.
Now she was left alone in the room with her godfather, Estella readied her things for the shower before turning to the amused werewolf for answers. "So," she asked conversationally, conscious to keep her voice down until she could hear the shower in the next room start up. "How many people are trolling around downstairs?"
"Oh, just some of the old crowd…" Remus responded vaguely, not wanting to give anything away.
"Well, let's go down and say hello, shall we?" Estella made to move past him. "I'm hungry."
"No." said Remus, surprising her with his answer before adding lamely. "I mean, your father wanted you to wait here."
"Just for the record, Moony," Estella eyed him knowingly as she sat down on her bed. "You suck as an actor."
"No," Remus sighed, sitting next to her on the bed. "You're just too smart."
"I'll buy that." Estella nodded in approval. "So are you gonna tell me what's going on, or what?"
"You'll just have to wait and see." Remus pulled a block of chocolate from his pocket and handed it to her in a blatant attempt to distract her.
"Trust you to keep chocolate in your pocket," Estella marvelled, accepting the chocolate gratefully and letting him have this one victory. "Thanks for that, you want some?"
"No," Remus shook his head, knocking her offered hand away. "Unlike some people, I was awake for breakfast."
"Yeah, only because you weren't up flying over London half the blasted night!" said Estella. "Speaking of which, next time, transfigure me a warmer cloak!"
"You were cold?" Remus looked at his goddaughter worriedly, his arm instinctively wrapping around her shoulders as though she were still seeking warmth. "Did you tell Sirius?"
Estella slumped slightly and looked at the floor.
"Estella?" Remus gripped her shoulder firmly, reaching over with his other hand to tilt her chin towards him. "You didn't tell your father you were cold? Why?"
"I didn't want them to think I couldn't hack it." Estella shrugged sheepishly. "I wasn't really that cold… I was just tired and missed my bed."
"Then why did you go?" Remus' eyes glinted with concern.
"Dad wanted me to." Estella told him, her tone growing defensive. "And it's not like you did anything when you were standing in the hallway, watching!"
"I thought you wanted to go." said Remus apologetically.
"I didn't even know what we were doing!" Estella screwed up her face, not knowing how the conversation had veered down this path. "But I wasn't really going to say no to an adventure. It's not an every night thing, after all, but doesn't mean I still didn't miss my warm bed, though. Does that make sense?"
"Nope." Remus smirked. "But you've been spending time with your father, so you're excused."
"I have, haven't I?" Estella commented, a wistful smile on her face. "Spending time with my father, I mean." she paused. "Who'd have thought…"
"A lot has happened over the past few years." Remus acknowledged. Pulling her into a one-armed hug, he kissed her temple. "I guess you may think things are different now that you're getting older and you have your father back…" he took a stabilising breath. "But you know I never stopped…"
"It's ok, Uncle Remus." Estella leaned into her godfather, resting her head in the familiar crook of his shoulder. "You n' me are like peas and carrots."
Chuckling at the implied film reference, Remus put on his best Forest Gump impersonation. "Like my mother used to say, life is like a box of chocolates..."
"Remus my old friend, I always thought your mother always used to tell you that chocolate would rot your teeth?" Sirius chipped in from the doorway, where he now stood looking remarkably dapper. "And I am sure she didn't talk like that! Look at yourself; you're practically drooling on the bed!"
Upon seeing the ignorant naivety on the Animagus' face, Estella and Remus laughed, each making a mental note to introduce the out-of-touch Marauder to the film. Seeing Sirius' puzzlement turn to incredulity, Remus bolted from his seat on the bed and made some excuse to leave; hurrying out the door.
"Run, Forest, run." Estella drawled after him, ignoring her father's confused look.
"OK, why do I get the feeling I am missing something here?" Sirius ruffled his hair as though the motion would spur brain activity. The image of his daughter being so at ease and sharing inside jokes with his best friend roused a pinch of loss in his soul. No matter how receptive his daughter had been to his presence in her life, he'd never get those years with her back. It would always been something Remus, and heaven forbid, Severus, would have over him.
"Dad?" Estella's voice echoed into his consciousness and he shook his head quickly to rattle out the demons in his mind. Had he zoned out? A quick glance around the room showed that Harry had exited the room and was ready to head downstairs, whilst Estella had wasted no time in ducking into the bathroom in the boy's wake, her voice calling for his attention as her head peeked around the door frame.
"Huh? Oh, hurry up and shower already." Sirius grumbled half-heartedly, dismissing her hesitation with a wave. "Harry, what do you say to a game of Exploding Snap while we wait?"
Estella didn't hear Harry's response on account of the fact she had closed the bathroom door. As she quickly showered and got changed, however, she could hear the muffled sounds of two boisterous males playing their game; it was almost a pity to interrupt them. Hesitating only when she heard her father's laughter intermingling with the shouts of a protesting Harry, Estella paused to contemplate the unreadable look her father had given her earlier; when he'd walked in on her and Remus goofing around.
'I wonder what was up with that?' she wondered to herself.
Was her father jealous of her godfather?
Any chance Estella had to pay her father's haunted state of mind a spare thought was blown out the window once she saw the surprise her father had in store for both Harry and herself. How the men had been able to arrange a party of its kind without either teenager knowing what was going on was a remarkable feat, and it suddenly became clear why they were not permitted to leave the room until it was time – the house was quite literally bursting at the seams.
After a suggestion made in passing by Harry, the occasion of his birthday was not so much a singular celebration than it was a mutual acknowledgement of family togetherness and friendship. Special homage was given to all the birthday parties both Harry and Estella had been denied growing up, and everyone received generous party favours. It was, to put it simply, Christmas in July.
"I'm sorry about your gift, Harry." Estella apologised, handing him a small box when the crowd's attention was not focused on either of them and she had managed to pull him aside into a quiet side room. "My original idea kind of fell through and I didn't have time to replace-"
"It's all right, Estella, really." Harry said, smiling. "This box could be empty and still you'd have given me the most generous gift of all."
"Huh?"
"Family." Harry said quietly.
Estella smiled warmly in return, fighting the urge to roll her eyes at his sappiness as she began to explain her gift. To her dismay, the majority of charms she tested on Harry's broom wore off after her initial test flight, and so she had been reluctant to re-present the birthday boy with a broom that was only marginally improved. Though no amount of lesser thought and work would have gone into it, the mere premise of a slight adjustment being her only gift made the gesture obsolete. Of course, Harry would be in for a shock when he next flew his broom to find that it was just a little bit faster and balanced a little bit better; but Estella was inclined to believe that the improvements were so rudimentary, that the rider would hardly notice them at all.
After having, not only run out of time to purchase a allocated gift, but also not being in the position of going shopping while she was at Hogwarts; Estella had to improvise. Remembering distinctly a prior conversation she'd had with Harry about magical authors, Estella dug up her old collection of children's books.
"It's silly, I know. You've outgrown them." she said reproachfully as he opened the box. "They're some of my old books… but they're in mint condition. I am a Ravenclaw after all… I just thought that maybe you'd not seen them before. You probably have… it's stupid, I admit…"
"Estella." Harry shushed her by covering her mouth with the back of his hand. "You're rambling."
"I… I am?" Estella blinked dazedly. "I am! I don't think I've ever rambled before…"
"Careful, or there you go again." Harry chuckled, scrutinising each book with equal care and consideration. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at her with sparkling emerald eyes before chancing a hasty kiss on her cheek. "Thank you. I've never had a book before. One that wasn't a school book, anyway."
"Oh, I doubt things were ever that dire." Estella rolled her eyes and hugged him unabashedly.
"She's right, you know." Sirius said, coming up behind them quietly with an unreadable grin on his face as he had just witnessed their awkward exchange. "You had one of the largest collections of books for a child who couldn't even read yet."
"I did?" Harry frowned, his eyes lost as though searching for a long forgotten memory.
"Imagine that!" Estella rolled her eyes, smirking at the implications.
"Don't worry though, Harry," Sirius assured him. "They were all about Quidditch and flying mostly."
Sirius leant up against the wall and rested his pitcher of Butterbeer on the mantle, lest he draw attention to the fact that his hands had started to shake. Rubbing the offending appendages agitatedly, Sirius recounted his memory. "Your father, of course, had wanted to take you up on a broom when you were just a few days old." he said, smiling fondly. "Lily, of course, was aghast at the idea and insisted that no one take you up until you 'understood' what a broom was."
"Understood?" Harry's breath hitched in his throat. Not only did he get to spend his birthday with friends and people he considered family, but he could speak openly about his parents. It was a gift no amount of money could buy.
"We figured that if we read you enough Quidditch magazines and surrounded you with storybooks about brooms, that it would be enough to help you 'understand'." Sirius said. "Something must have worked because you were in the air with him just about every day after you turned 11 months old. I'll never forget the day you pointed at James as he and I were flying in the yard and told Lily and Selina that 'Daddy fly broom'. Poor woman didn't know whether to be ecstatic that her son was constructing sentences at 11 months or mortified at the implications of what was said. She'd never have not told James though." Sirius smiled fondly. "She admitted to me once that she secretly loved seeing you fly. Not enough to let you get your own broom for your birthday, mind you, but we were working on her for Christmas…" his voice trailed off, and he paled considerably.
"My dad, he read Quidditch magazines to me?" Harry's eyes flickered with recognition, overlooking the pain of what could have been in favour of concentrating on what he had been fortunate to experience.
"I did too," Sirius corrected him, not wanting his part in one of the Marauder's last capers go unchecked. "Eventually Lily caught on to our attempts to 'sabotage' your development and banished the magazines from the house. Selina would have had me strung up by the short and curlies if she knew I'd stashed them."
"Wait, so those magazines I've been reading…" Harry's eyes flew open as Sirius nodded, grinning; both boys ignoring the blanched look on Estella's face.
"Dad!" she shrieked. "Short and what? That's… that's…"
"An entirely inappropriate statement for a young lady to repeat, I do apologise." Sirius cut in sternly, a sad smile on his face. "In this poor light, it's easy to forget who I'm talking to…"
Frowning, Estella stepped towards her father, and took a sniff of his robes, her eyes narrowing at the yeasty smell of butterbeer. "How many of those have you had?" she asked carefully, reaching for his glass.
"Who are you, my mother?" Sirius rescued his glass, holding it away from his daughter.
"Merlin, I hope not." Estella shuddered, causing all three to laugh. Harry had heard enough about Sirius' mother to follow her meaning.
Another uncomfortably silence fell upon them, causing Sirius to fidget uneasily. Exchanging a remissive look with his daughter, he wondered, absently, about how his daughter's relationship with a broom could have been different under his early influence. Shaking the thought from his mind, he grinned lopsidedly and steered both the conversation, and the two young cohorts, towards the door. "Come on, let's get back out there before Estella's friends and Hermione join forces and start a reading group. They've been eying off the library most of the afternoon."
"Dad!" Estella sighed exasperatedly, her earlier misgivings returning to the recesses of her subconscious. "Just because my friends are in Ravenclaw, it doesn't mean we're all book-mad! We have lives too, you know!"
"I'm sure you do, sweetheart." Sirius said nonchalantly, slowly pushing them out of the door and towards the study, where most of the people were centralised. "But you know as well as I do that if we don't go distract them soon, they'll all pull out their summer homework."
"No they won't." Estella corrected him. "It's over halfway through summer. You can bet they've already finished their homework."
"What about you?" Sirius asked her, choosing a strange moment to pose a fatherly question at her. "Did you get the research you wanted to get done while at Hogwarts?"
Estella bristled slightly in mid-step, but covered it well. "Yes, I found a highly helpful book on Phoenixes that will help me immensely in my extra-curricular reading." She had, in fact, 'borrowed' said book from the library until the start of term, and was not too keen to go into details on just what she had been doing at Hogwarts; so she sought to change the subject by asking her father how her friends came to be able to visit.
"Invitational portkey," her father informed her simply. "Remus went and picked them up personally and they'll take the return portkey home later. They have no real idea that we're actually in London… I regret the need for such security, but the less that know of the Order and this house, the least number of people Voldemort can potentially torture for information."
"Thanks for the imagery," Estella deadpanned.
"You're weird, you know that?" Both Harry and Sirius stared at the Ravenclaw incredulously.
"Wonder where I got that from…" Estella muttered as she walked ahead, barely catching the hushed exchange between her father and his godson as the older Gryffindor informed Harry that it took a lot for a Ravenclaw to give their books to another. If she didn't know any better, she'd suspect her marauding father was playing at being a matchmaker.
They were just a couple of books!
Of Estella's classmates, Elsie, John and Reg had made the trip to Headquarters. As she took them and Ginny Weasley on an impromptu tour of the house, she was remotely glad for the fact that she and her two guardians, over the previous summer, had managed to eradicate the house of some of its shadier history. Of course, the odd boggart and doxie still lurked in the lesser-used rooms – such was normal for old houses that went largely unoccupied – but at least there was nothing life threatening.
"Your bedroom is fantastic," Elsie gushed, though Estella had suspicions her friend was only so enthused on account of the fact Harry had been known to have slept there the night before. "I love the colour."
"Sure you do," Reg and John chimed in, each rolling their eyes.
"So, Elsie, d'you want to see where your favourite former Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher sleeps or have you moved on to Harry now?" Estella smirked at her friend, her lips curling into a full blown grin as she locked eyes with Ginny. "I must say though, you'll have competition if that's the case."
"Hey!" Ginny spluttered. "I don't have a crush on Harry!"
"Oh? Did I say you did?" Estella countered innocently; it becoming apparently clear to everyone that Ginny had just outed herself.
Trying to save face, Ginny Weasley ignored the implications of the situation and made to change the subject. "This isn't your parent's house, though is it?"
Estella shook her head violently. "My Dad hates this house," she said. "If you saw what it was like before, you'd understand why."
"Why not have the party at your house, then?" John asked. "I mean, if your Dad hates this house so much…"
It took a while for Estella to remember that her friends simply saw this house as a venue for a party and not as headquarters to an Order they'd probably only ever heard about in legend. Nodding slightly at Ginny's fleeting look of panic, she effortlessly twisted the truth to misdirect her friends.
"Oh, well this house is bigger," she pointed out. "Besides, it would have been impossible to prepare for a surprise party at home while Harry and I had our noses in everything."
The others nodded acceptingly as Estella was struck by an idea. "Say, you want to see it?"
It had taken a fair bit of convincing, not to mention a million and one promises to not step foot outside or 'do anything stupid' but Sirius eventually consented to permit Estella and the other teenagers to portkey back to the family home to chill out. Little did any of them realise at the time that it was a convenient way for the Order to get the children out of headquarters for a few hours so they could hold their meeting freely. Whilst normally the idea of adults conducting such business behind their back wouldn't faze the inquisitive Ravenclaw, Estella was far too preoccupied with the thrill of hosting her friends over at her home for the first time to even care.
"And this…" Estella made a grand sweeping gesture of the last room of their tour, "is our lair. Adults permitted by invitation only."
"Wicked!" Ron's eager eyes locked on the shelf full of Quidditch magazines and he twitched, his body urging him to rush forth and spill himself over the shelf's contents, but years of good manners being drilled into him by the overbearing Molly Weasley keeping his baser instincts in check.
"Wow! They don't even print these anymore!" Fred and George, despite being raised by the same mother, were not as restrained as they leapt forward and helped themselves to the collection of the magazine Zonko's used to issue to their most loyal clientele: A Zillion Zany and Zappy Ideas for the Zealous Zonkonian. "Look! You must have every issue ever published!"
"All bar one," Estella confirmed, her mind not wanting to think of what Peter Pettigrew had done with the Marauder's copy of the special edition on subterfuge and camouflage. Strictly speaking, the content of the Zonko's publication were not entirely politically sound. Having been published throughout the late 60s to mid 70s, the magazine came at a time of free thinking and rebellion. It retired its presses out of respect of the raging war of the late 70s (both that and economic rations the Ministry had imposed on non-essential items had forced their hand). Then by the time the war was over and business was able to go back to normal, Zonko's found that the society was far too conservative to tolerate a revival.
"Amazing!" Fred gaped openly, his eyes dancing with the possibilities.
"Why didn't you ever tell us?" George pouted. "Can I…"
"-Can we…"
"-Just a look, see…"
"-Do you have any idea how…"
"-Come on, you owe us!"
"-We gave you the Marauder's Map!"
At this, Estella raised a brow at the twin's bantering back and forth. Harry and Estella owed the twins for the Marauder's Map? Oh, really? If only the red-headed doppelgangers knew just whose children they were wrestling with! Exchanging a knowing glance with Harry, Estella could tell Harry was feeling just as incredulous.
"Knock yourselves out," Harry gestured towards the stack lazily. "You won't get far, though…" he was interrupted by the twins' surprised yelping, the pair dropping the magazine they were trying to open in shock. "They're protected." He finished lamely.
"Protected?" George's voice raised an octave.
"Protected?" Fred echoed his twin, rubbing the hand that had been in contact with the innocent looking parchment.
"Just as well, too." Hermione nodded approvingly at the unyielding parchment. "Do you have any idea how much controversy the content in those issues caused?"
Fred and George exchanged a look before staring Hermione straight in the eye. "Yes." They said pointedly, a malevolent look in their eyes.
"It was a little liberal," John nodded in assent with the displaced Gryffindor, "even by 70's standards."
"If it was bordering on inappropriate by 70s standards, then I doubt you'd find any of it in today's resources," Reg sighed, almost as keen as the twins to look the magazines over, if only from the perspective of a keen intellectual who craved new information.
By now, the twins were practically salivating.
"Wherever did you get them?" Elsie asked suddenly.
"Our dads shared a subscription." Harry said absently, looking up from where he was showing Ron his favourite Quidditch Magazines.
"But we're under strict orders to not take them out of this room." Estella threw in for good measure.
Her father had been rather enthusiastic when he'd found the box they were stored in; making a big ceremony of relinquishing control of them to the 'next generation'. Of course, it hadn't gone without a lengthy lecture from Remus, suggesting that they keep the collection intact and within the house, save losing them. Just when they all thought he had gone completely bonkers and regressed into 'Professor' mode, the unassuming werewolf went on to subtly point out valuable page references to obscure charms and pranks that they may wish to copy for their own devices. Both she and Harry had taken to reading the magazines after that – if only to catch a glimpse as to the sort of things their parents did as teenagers.
To their surprise, the Marauders hadn't only been loyal Zonko's customers – their shared account with the store guaranteeing them a subscription – they had been regular columnists and contributors to some of the magazine's regular features. Estella didn't quite know what to make of it; however, since she was sure many of the subjects of the Marauder's 'hypothetical' scenarios were based, in reality, on her uncle.
"Wow! Look at this, George!" Fred ogled at the cover of another edition. "There's a special feature by the Marauders! Do you suppose they are the same ones who made that map?"
"I don't know," George leant over his brother's shoulder before giving Estella and Harry a pleading look. "Come on, how do we read it?"
"You can't." Estella said regretfully. "Only the original subscribers or their blood descendents can get past the charms securing the content."
"That's some pretty serious charm work," Fred frowned. "Was it really necessary?"
"Dunno." Estella shrugged truthfully. "Guess the publishers just wanted to ensure that only loyal customers could read it. Who knows…"
"Well you'd have read this one then, right? Does it say who the Marauders are?" Fred waved the magazine in question at her.
"Who, Moony, Padfoot and Prongs?" Estella refused to acknowledge Wormtail. "Only that they were, at one time, students at Hogwarts."
"That's all it says?" George pouted.
"Pity the magazine doesn't exist anymore…" Estella mused, ignoring George's last question. "Would be interesting to know where they ended up."
"Yeah," Harry added, playing along. "I wonder if they went on to lead exciting lives of mischief and mayhem…"
"Or if they went out and got real jobs and got married and had kids." Estella threw in. "Could you imagine? A Marauder with kids?"
"Never!" The Weasley twins shook their heads determinedly. "It's far too depressing to think of them as getting old like that!"
Estella and Harry shared a covert look, each fighting to contain their mirth. Sensing that it was time to change the subject – lest they give their game away by taking things too far – Estella turned their attention elsewhere.
"But hey, if it's knowledge you seek, there's a few books in the study I think you may be interested in." Several redheads shook at the mere mention of 'books' and 'study' in the same sentence; all four Gryffindor boys gravitating towards the Quidditch magazines on the lower shelves. The rest of the group, however, were inclined to go with Estella, several of them hardly able to hide their enthusiasm at the invitation to explore the book collection of one of the oldest Wizarding families.
So while Harry, Ron and the twins stayed up in the attic to pour over the Quidditch magazines, Elsie, Hermione, Ginny, Reg, John and Estella made themselves comfortable in the study. While Elsie and Ginny found common ground (i.e. boys) and absconded themselves to a corner to giggle and whisper, getting better acquainted; and Reg and Hermione sought out the oldest, heaviest tome to pour over, Estella kept herself busy showing John how the Muggle amenities of the house worked. Of her housemates, he was the only one present who did Muggle Studies.
"I'm really kind of surprised you didn't want to stay upstairs with the guys and drool over Quidditch magazines." Estella told him honestly.
"Estella, you know who my brother is." John groaned. "Not only has he got a collection of Quidditch mags to rival the one upstairs, but all anyone ever talks about in my house is Quidditch. Sure, I like the sport, but I like… I like… other stuff too!"
"Ok, ok, I get it." Estella waved her hands in defeat. Despite her affirmation, she really didn't get what John really meant.
"Besides I am here for you, not Harry." He blushed slightly as Estella's eyes widened in surprise. "I mean, I like you better…" he faltered, "…well that is to say I don't even know Harry… but you're my friend and bollocks…" he shook his head and sighed. "It's amazing how you've managed to combine both magical and Muggle stuff here."
"Yeah," Estella nodded, grinning at John's sudden awkwardness around her. Ever since she'd been back at school since Christmas holidays, she'd began to suspect that perhaps John had come to look upon her as something more than just a friend; but she'd not really had the time to really stop and consider that fact; let alone assess her own feelings. Not being so cruel as to dwell on his nervous mumblings and embarrass him further, she followed his attention to the more neutral topic of the Muggle and magical amenities around the room. "Took some getting used to when I first came here. I mean my uncle is hardly the sort to embrace Muggle technology."
John snorted, relieved. "Understatement of the year!"
"I'd never even heard of half this stuff when I came here." she said, idly toying with the remote control in her hand. "Now it's kinda cool to have something different to do when school breaks for holidays."
"I don't know if I could live in a Muggle neighbourhood." John peered unseeingly out the window. All any of them knew about the house they were visiting was that it was in a Muggle neighbourhood. Estella could tell her friend was itching to ask more questions, but he was mindfully holding back out of politeness. He continued, "I'd miss flying."
"Well, I don't have that problem!" Estella smirked, reminding her friend of her aversion to the sport. "But hey, you thinking of trying out for the house team this year? We're going to need a new Keeper, aren't we?"
"I don't know." John said indecisively, his eyes downcast as he shuffled his feet. It was a widely known fact that John's older brother played Quidditch at a professional level; and so the expectation that it placed on John to emulate that ability weighed him down.
"Well I think you should go for it," she said.
"They'll always compare me," John whined. "I'll never measure up!"
"Who said you had to?" Estella pointed out. "You're not your brother, and it's time people see that for themselves. Besides, why care so much about what other people think? Do you think I got through my childhood of being the greasy git's niece and the convicted murderer's daughter by caring what other people thought of me?"
"Well when you put it that way…" John had the decency to blush. "I'm not going to get a chance to practice once school starts, though. Not without everyone's eyes on me, expecting me to follow through. I mean I like flying and I like Quidditch, but I'm not sure if I can be bothered setting myself up for such scrutiny."
"Is that why you only fly when no one's around?" Estella's eyes widened. As his friends, she, Reg and Elsie had accompanied John out into the Hogwarts grounds at odd hours to watch him indulge his passion. "So no one can see you?"
"Forget I said anything, I can't expect you to understand." John frowned, mistaking the tone of surprise in Estella's voice for miscomprehension.
"No! I do get it, believe me I do!" Estella assured him. "I was just surprised by how similar our situations are."
"What do you mean, you wouldn't go near a broom with a-" John began, but was swiftly cut off by the shorter girl.
"That's what everyone thinks." Estella confided cryptically. "I'm still not very comfortable doing it, but I've been doing it a lot lately and, well, maybe it'll grow on me, maybe it won't… but I don't like people knowing about it either in case they suddenly expect me to do it all the time, for fun."
"Wait, you've been flying?" John did a double take.
"Well last night, as you know, Harry, Dad and I flew Buckbeak…" Estella's voice trailed off. "And earlier this week I, er, got bored while visiting with my Uncle and took a broom out – just to experiment, like."
"Are you sure the hat shouldn't have put you in Gryffindor?" John looked at his young friend, silently impressed by her display of courage. He remembered their first flying lessons quite well. None of her housemates had found it easy to forget how she had unwittingly destroyed those brooms. "So, you any good?"
"Dunno," Estella shrugged. "When I'm not feeling queasy or terrified of falling, my track record in the air has generally involved being chased by evil Dark Wizards or my neurotic, overprotective uncle."
"Isn't that one and the same?" John joked, earning a poke and a glare from Estella. "Seriously though, you could come out with me next time I go up… I'll have to see what I can do about giving you some better memories in the air."
"Awww," Estella batted her eyelashes. "Chivalry is not dead after all."
John blushed.
"I tell you what," Estella said decisively. "I'll go flying with you, if you try out for the Quidditch team."
"What?"
"I'll even help you prepare, where I can." She vowed.
Their discussion of future plans was interrupted, however, by an indignant exclamation from the other side of the room.
"Estella! You haven't finished your homework?" Reg's voice was incredulous as he and Hermione stumbled across a pile of Estella's texts on the desk. On the rare opportunity she'd had to get some schoolwork done over the summer, she'd preferred to do it in the study – lest the fine, ornate writing desk of her mother's continue to sit there ceremoniously, getting no use. The desk in her room, she conversely reserved for composing her private correspondence.
"I've been busy," Estella shrugged defensively; though if she really cast her mind back over the past few weeks, she couldn't comprehend where all the time had gone. "I'm halfway through…"
"I can look over what you've done, if you like?" Hermione offered. "Looks to be the same assignments we got last summer. I won't mind."
"Hey, have you done your Potions yet?" Elsie looked up from her conversation with Ginny. Potions was one of Elsie's weaker points. "Do you have some notes on the properties of Fluxweed? I don't quite know which angle to take."
And so sparked an intellectual debate that would make any Potions Master proud. An indiscernible period of time passed, with the boisterous Gryffindors descending into the room to find the other occupants of the house pouring over class notes and revising their summer homework.
"He was right!" Harry whooped, alerting the conscientious students of his presence.
"Blimey, I though this was supposed to be a party!" George looked horrified.
"Its summer, and you lot are recreating the Hogwarts library in the middle of holidays!" Fred blanched. "Someone call St. Mungos! You guys ought to be committed!"
"Whatever you have better not be contagious!" The youngest Weasley boy lingered in the threshold, a safe distance from the studying teens. "Last thing I want to do is remind myself of how much homework I have to do." He blanched. "Bloody hell," he groaned. "Too late!"
The room ruptured into good-natured laughter, the knowledge-loving Ravenclaws closing their books in satisfaction. Contrary to popular belief, a Ravenclaw did, in fact, know how to let their hair down – they were just spectacularly adept at creating a balance between work and play. Fundamentals, after all, were the building blocks of fun.
"Right," Estella said, leaping from the desk she was sitting on and shaking the pins and needles out of her legs. "Who's up for pizza and a movie?"
Two faces lit up in recognition, whilst the others blinked in varying degrees of confusion. A brief explanation of Muggle cinema and pizza delivery later and all of Estella and Harry's houseguests were sold on the idea.
While Hermione was busy explaining to the others about what a pizza was and making her recommendations, Estella levelled her eyes at Harry and wagged her finger at him in warning. "You dare tell Dad or anyone that we started doing our homework and I swear I will tell my uncle what happened last week" she said lowly. "I suggest you strongly suggest to the Weasley boys to exercise discretion also. I will hold you equally accountable if they let it fly."
"Okay, but on one condition." Harry agreed. "Help me with my potions homework."
"Done."
A couple of hours later and the living room was amuck with greasy cardboard boxes, emptying bottles of Muggle soft drink and the potent aromas of recently ingested cheese and garlic. The teenagers were sprawled out across the room in the available collection of chairs, floor cushions and a marvellously comfortable contraption Estella introduced as a beanbag. A movie was playing loudly on the television, and popcorn flew about the room at various intervals as the respective parties jumped in their seats.
"Get him! Get him!" The boys whooped and cheered as the good guy in the film blew up another baddie. The Weasley boys in particular, seemed to have a bit of trouble grasping the concept that the people in the 'tellybox' couldn't hear them. Beside them, Hermione and Estella were trying to convince Ginny and Elsie, that the violence depicted on the screen was really just make-believe.
"So it's just an illusion then?" Ginny's voice squeaked, her eyes chancing another look at the scene. "Muggle magic?"
"It's amazing what they can do these days." Estella nodded.
"But why would someone want to recreate such despicable violence?" Elsie asked. "Are Muggles really that depraved?"
Hermione was about to begin a whole analytical breakdown on movie genres and the perceived entertainment value for each when the girls were suddenly attacked by hail of popcorn.
"Shhhh!" the boys hissed. "We're missing it! He's about to get the leader!"
The girls scowled, but quietened down without protest. Despite their infrequent commentary, they had still managed to invest a bit of interest in the movie's story and were equally curious to find out what happened next.
But before the good guy could save his wife from the madman keeping her hostage, the screen froze on the image of the villain as he dangled from the broken window of the high rise. Estella had barely gotten a hold of the remote to try and turn the movie back on when they were alerted to a presence by the fire place.
"Now, will someone tell me what in the devil is going on here?" The intimidating voice of none other than Severus Snape cut through the atmosphere in the room like a hot knife through butter, causing all heads to spin around in shock.
"What are you doing here?" Estella asked, not meaning to be rude, but not quite knowing how to address her uncle in front of her friends when she was in her own home. In private she called him 'uncle', while at school she called him 'Professor', but since she was neither at school nor in private, she settled for not addressing him at all.
Severus impatiently gestured towards a familiar looking goblet in his hand and stared at her as though she was stupid. "Where is Lupin?"
"Not here." Estella levelled her eyes at him. "He left for work this morning and won't be back here for the rest of the summer."
Taking her meaning, Severus looked disdainfully at the collection of teenagers in his niece's home and narrowed his eyes. "And just what, exactly, is going on here in his absence?"
"Movies and pizza." Estella answered, gesturing around the room in the same manner in which her uncle had addressed her moments previously. It would be pointless to point out that it was Harry's birthday, lest she open the boy up to a tirade of insults. She sighed. "Would you like me to take Remus his restorative potion or can I trust that you know where to find him?"
"I am not entirely sure I approve of your viewing choice." Severus glared at the infernal Muggle device, his jaw twitching at the sight of the character's imminent death. "Is your father aware of the violence?"
Estella shrugged. "It's just a movie!" She groaned incredulously. Inwardly, she was fuming that her uncle should be making a scene, judging something he knows nothing about. "Dad hasn't seen it, but he's seen the covers… and it's pretty obvious from that what happens."
She nodded towards the sideboard table, and Severus swept across the room, setting down the goblet of the analgesic potion that helped her godfather recover from the full moon before examining the glossy Muggle VHS covers. Around her, the assortment of teenaged Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were staring at the Potions Master's back, slack jawed and wide eyed, unable to fathom what the ruthless man would do next.
"Die Hard?" Severus' voice rumbled into a low, dangerous tone and he slammed the case down, only to pick up another. "Die Harder?" He positively growled, causing the Weasley boys to blanch and the girls to gasp.
Estella, on the other hand, had to bite back a grin as her uncle turned to face them slowly.
"Die Hard with a Vengeance is the next one in the series." She said conversationally. "But it's only just come out at the megaplex."
Taking all this in, Severus paused for breath, his pupils dilating into tiny pinpricks as he fought to control the agitated twitching of his jaw. To him, such a Muggle depravity was akin to Death Eater's children crowding around their parent's pensieve, keen to see a recollection of a violent attack. It didn't matter to him that the Muggle movies were not real depictions; the concept of their harmless entertainment value eluded him and he shook with rage. In an eerily calm, but cool voice, he all but whispered, "where is your father?"
"With Remus." Estella said pointedly, knowing that it would not go down well to refer to Grimmauld Place by either it's address or its current purpose as headquarters.
"You are here by yourself?" Severus' voice rose slightly, little alarm bells going off in Estella's head as she saw his knuckles whiten as he gripped the edge of the sideboard. Judging by the looks of terror on her friend's faces, she was not the only one to note that the man was about to lose control.
"No, I am not here by myself." Estella said calmly, simultaneously trying to placate him and direct his dissention towards her insubordinate behaviour. It would not do for him to lash out at Harry – like Estella knew he would be prone to do – or one of their undeserving guests. Taking a deep breath, she went for the kill. "As you can no doubt see, I have quite a bit of company."
Wide eyes stared at her from all sides as the teenagers visibly flinched in sympathy for her; the stunned looks on their faces gaping at her, all unable to comprehend why she would bait her uncle so. Immediately beside her, John and Elsie physically drew away from her; as though expecting a curse to come hurtling her way.
"There is no adult supervision?" Severus breathed in and out through his nose loudly, trying to retain his resolve. His baser instincts begged for release, but he held firm; a meagre grip of rationality telling him that his ever challenged relationship with his niece would be on even more tenuous ground if he were to cause a scene.
"Well I wouldn't say that exactly… you're here, and you're an adult." Estella chanced, giving her uncle a knowing look. "And besides, most people wouldn't consider Remus or my Dad as adults anyway."
'Not to mention the Weasley twins are of age' Estella added mentally, but selectively chose not to mention.
Severus faltered, and though he would not admit it in such unsavoury company, she had him over a barrel… once again catching him out with his own words. Too many a time had he lamented the juvenile behaviour of his niece's other guardians, and by the looks on the faces around him, they all knew he would constitute the 'most people' Estella had alluded to.
"Very well," he said in clipped tones, angry at her candour but appreciative of her motive. Part of him toyed with the idea of doing an about-face by assuming the role of the doting uncle – if only to savour the looks of shock on his student's faces - but he reneged. The youngest Weasley boy in particular already looked about ready to keel over, and the last thing he wanted was to explain to Molly Weasley how her son had come to emulate the mental capacity of Gilderoy Lockhart – not that such a comparison was ever much of a stretch on a good day. "I shall fetch something from downstairs. I expect you all to be ready to leave by the time I return."
With that, Severus Snape swept out of the room, leaving a stunned audience in his wake.
"Bloody hell, Estella!" Harry hissed at her, his voice shaking slightly. "Do you have a death wish?"
"No, I was saving your arse!" Estella hissed in reply, lest her uncle hear them from wherever he was lurking in wait. "If I hadn't made him focus his anger on me he would have found a way to turn this on you."
"I think…" Ron stuttered. "I think I may have messed myself!"
"Ron!" The twins groaned.
"Hypocritically speaking, you dumb arses!" Ron glared at his older brothers, the look of consternation darkening when they broke out into laughter.
"Don't you mean 'hypothetically'?" Hermione goaded him gently, slipping into her familiar know-it-all role.
"That's what I said!" Ron's ears went pink as he continued to fluster. "Blimey, you can't blame a bloke for not being able to think straight after… after… that!" he squealed. "It's Snape, for crying out loud! No one expects to have the greasy git gatecrash a party in the middle of bloody summer break!"
Estella made a small noise of protest at Ron's name calling, but refrained from turning the gibbering boy out on account of the lasting impression his look of fear just moments earlier had burned into her mind. Muttering something about dormant Gryffindor virtues, she palmed the remote and turned the movie back on – safe in the knowledge that if her uncle wanted to continue throwing his weight around, he'd have her father to answer to.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Hermione whispered in her ear. "He looks positively on edge."
Elsie and Ginny nodded in nervous agreement, the boys all too preoccupied with the film's climax.
"Relax, he's in my father's house." Estella pointed out. "He knows his words hold no real weight here. So as long as we stick to the rules Dad set, then Dad will back us up 110."
"If we make it back to your father alive!" John pointed out banally.
"Yes, well there is that." Estella smirked, chuckling at her friend's shock. "Relax… he wouldn't kill any of us."
"Maim-" George gulped.
"Curse-" Fred cut in.
"…and torture-"
"-Yes."
Estella inhaled sharply at the twins' observation and found that in light of recent events, she couldn't bring herself to deny that it wasn't a distinct possibility. Of course she quickly reassured herself that it was crazy to entertain such doubts – the man had clearly not enjoyed what he had to do and would never have done it if he'd had a choice.
"Mmm… what I wouldn't give to drop Snape off a building!" Ron said dreamily as the film's credits began to roll. Once again the big-footed Gryffindor had forgotten whose company he was in and swallowed his foot; only this time, there were several people on hand to elbow him back to his senses. "Ow! What was that for?"
"Ron!" Several voices – most of the Weasleys – groaned at him exasperatedly, whilst one closest to him, Ginny, whispered something in his ear that caused him to pale and stutter.
"Oh, uh, right," he muttered. "S-s-sorry, Estella. I wouldn't really want to murder your uncle, you know."
"Save it, Weasley." said Estella breezily. "It's not like it's the first time someone has had a gripe about my uncle." She paused and looked suggestively towards the door, before darting her eyes back to the unassuming Gryffindor. "And by the fact that my uncle hasn't come in here and hexed you yet, I gather he doesn't care about your comments, so I shouldn't either."
"Wh-what?" Ron's eyes darted towards the doorway fearfully. "W-ait… he didn't… he isn't…"
"What would a Potions Master with a fully stocked inventory need from the inferior basement lab of a novice?" Estella asked rhetorically, her eyes glinting mischievously as the gullible Gryffindor fell for her ploy and gasped.
Across from her, the Weasley twins could recognise her game immediately, the pair electing to sit back and watch their younger brother squirm, both regarding Estella with a renewed reverence.
Upon seeing her older brothers condone the psychological torture of her nearest next of kin, Ginny pursed her lips in a very Molly-fashion and leant forward. "She's having you on, Ron." Ginny pointed out, astounded at her brother's stupidity for falling for it so hard.
He blinked and stared at her disbelievingly. "No… no… no… I'm doomed! He heard! He heard! I'm going to be dropped off the Astronomy Tower! I'm going to be fed to Aragog!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley." Estella snapped, knowing things had gone too far the moment the flustered Weasley had began to quiver and mumble incoherently. "My uncle probably doesn't even know Aragog exists, and even if he did, he'd soon as use you as a test subject than get rid of you entirely!"
If it were even possible, Ron's eyes went even wider, and he began to hyperventilate.
"Good heavens, Weasley, can't you take a joke?" Estella growled at the boy irritably, not feeling entirely comfortable with the predicament she had backed herself into. If this was how Ron was acting now, things would only get irreparably worse when her uncle decided to re-enter. The Slytherin side of her was beginning to wonder if her uncle was in fact just on the other side of the door, listening to their every word and waiting to see how she bailed herself out of this one.
"That's it!" Fred looked at George decisively as an unspoken message travelled between them.
"It's gone too far." George nodded at his twin and they drew their wands.
"Stupefy." They stunned their younger brother calmly, smirking lightly at the shocked looks they got in response. "What?"
"You… you did magic outside of school!" Hermione gasped reverently.
"You'll get expelled!" Reg spluttered.
"No we won't." The twins said simultaneously. "We're of age!"
"Oh, yeah…" Hermione reeled back, chagrined. "Right, that."
"Ginny, you won't tell Mum, will ya?" Fred looked at his only sister with wide eyes.
"Are you kidding?" Ginny smiled. "I was moments away from calling Snape in and having him do it!" They all sniggered at the imagery of how that would have gone down. The twins were probably the least surprised by their youngest sibling having just sided with them. She was, after all, a Weasley; and they had groomed her well.
Estella, meanwhile, had risen and crossed the room into the Study, where she descended upon the desk and stuffed her school books into her book bag. "You lot ready to go?" she said reluctantly, the last credits of the movie having just faded to black and the video switching off to reveal a screen of white noise before the TV was switched off.
"Shouldn't we wait for your uncle?" Reg asked her nervously, looking past her to the empty hallway beyond the open study doors.
"You guys get your stuff together and get the Portkey out," she said, shouldering her book bag and heading towards the hall. "I'll go let my uncle know what we're doing."
A few minutes later she was back.
"All set," she assured them. "Just as I suspected, he got started on a potion. Always does when he needs to calm down. Said I would fear for my father's health if he took us back. I don't think he's too impressed by Dad letting us hang out here alone… and he made it quite clear that he thought, and I quote, 'that the blood sport depicted in what the incongruous Muggles called entertainment was a cesspool for breeding violence'."
"Oh gee, you think?" Harry rolled his eyes, making room in the circle they had made around the Portkey so to accommodate her.
"Merlin, if your voice was any deeper, I'd say that was a flawless impersonation." Fred looked at her scowling face strangely, hefting the deadweight of his young brother by his arm whilst his twin grasped the other.
With the Weasley twins bordered either side of the unconscious Ron, the group clamoured around the doggy chew toy, which served as their Portkey. Ginny and Hermione stood on either side of the twins in the circle, with Elsie and Reg on Ginny's side and Harry and Estella on Hermione's. John, lastly, stood particularly close to Estella, a finely manicured hand coming up to rest on the shoulder strap of her book bag as she stood side on to the Portkey with her back to her housemate.
Before anyone had a chance to think about how uncomfortably close they all were, huddled around the small Portkey, they were on their way.
End Chapter: Full House
Next Chapter: Meddlesome old men and the casualties of their ways
Due: Friday 30 September
