Disclaimer: If it were mine, I would have seen Goblet of Fire nearly a month ago and would not be going crazy from the wait… oh, and anything particularly recognisable comes directly from Chapter Six of HBP... Spoilers, therefore, are a given.

Updated: Monday 28th November 2005

Chapter 09: Unusual Welcomes

"Bad dream?" Estella rolled over and favoured her roommate with a sympathetic glance. With their return to Hogwarts imminent, it was, perhaps unsurprising that events of the previous June were starting to play on their anxieties. As Estella threw off her dampened sheets and sat up, reaching for the glass of water by her bed, she couldn't quite figure if it had been Harry's own strangled noises that had lulled her from her dream, or if she'd woken up naturally. Looking across at the equally-dishevelled boy, she could tell he was trying to work out the exact same thing. Eyes narrowing as she saw him rub at his scar, Estella set down her glass carefully. "Scar?"

"No." Harry said after a moment of deliberation. "Memories…"

"The third task?" Estella whispered knowingly. Estella suspected that Harry had experienced similar dreams during the first few weeks of summer – she knew she had. The ruminations of what Remus called 'post-traumatic shock' and the careful plotting of the adults to keep them busy ensured that the nightmares stopped. Now, though, that they were faced with leaving the security of their 'family unit', anxieties were beginning to manifest themselves in the form of their night terrors.

Harry nodded slowly, his eyes meeting hers in a silent agreement. Talking about their dreams was only for an audience who set out to discover what their experience was about. It did little to alleviate the horrors of that night in June. "What are we going to do?" Harry asked hoarsely, frustration evident in his tone. "How am I supposed to sleep in the Tower without waking every one up?"

"Dreamless Sleep?" Estella suggested the illusive potion. "It'd only be a temporary solution though, 'cause you really don't want to develop a dependency to it."

"That doesn't help then, does it?" Harry rubbed at his scar again. It wasn't that the famous mark hurt, it was just a habit that his attention flew to the scar Voldemort had given him whenever he were thinking about how the evil git had stuffed around with his life and family.

"You could try clearing your mind." Estella said suddenly. "You know, Occlumency?"

"Oh way to get me back to sleep thinking happy thoughts." Harry grumbled. "Private lessons with Snape…"

Estella glared at him, but said nothing. She would be an idiot not to acknowledge that those two in the same room together, alone, would not be a bearer of good things.

"I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier!" Estella was more relieved. When she was a child living with her uncle, she'd been taught to make a habit of clearing her mind before bed. With a little concentration, discipline and the right teacher, it wasn't any more different or difficult than meditating in a relaxed state. As she got older however, and saw less of her uncle, clearing her mind was often the last thing on her agenda when she fell into bed at night; hence her current susceptibility.

Leaning over the edge of her bed, her head craning into the cavity below the mattress in search of something, Estella felt around with her hand under the bed and sat back up with her walkman in her hand. "Now." she said, making herself comfortable. "I don't quite know how to explain it, so I am afraid I can't really teach you, but in short, I kind of see clearing your mind a bit like losing yourself in a song you like."

"Um, all right." said Harry attentively, watching her every move as she fiddled with the buttons on the well-used device.

"Yeah, so, sometimes when I want to clear my mind without much effort, I listen to some music," continued Estella. "I don't really need it anymore, but in the very least it will get your mind off your dream before you go back to sleep."

At that, Estella pressed the button that her godfather had charmed to amplify the sound coming out of the headphones and looked at Harry for approval before she hit the play button.

"What are you going to play?" asked Harry curiously. "You might wake everyone up!"

"Oh, just something of a lullaby." Estella smirked. She didn't want to tell Harry, but she had every reason to believe that the adults in the next room were already awake. While her father was a heavy sleeper and had more than likely slept through the sounds of the two teenagers having a nightmare, Estella knew for a fact that her godfather, with his keen sense of hearing, would most certainly have heard. Had they been in separate rooms, she had no doubt that he would have gotten both himself and Sirius into gear, but with the two teenagers up and talking things through amongst themselves, no adult was required.

If a nice, sleep-inducing ballad was of the sort of song Harry was expecting when Estella hit play, Metallica's 'Enter the Sandman' did not fit that mould. Staring at his eccentric friend in confusion, she motioned for him to wait and just listen. Sure enough, the lyrics represented the parody of a lullaby, and Harry couldn't help but grin at the line about dreaming of war, lies, dragon's fire and things that bite. All right, so having such things mentioned didn't get his mind off said events, but it did help him look at in a different light.

"Friends of yours?" smirked Harry, inwardly wondering if Estella had someone bewitched the player to sing the lyrics of her own invention.

"Metallica?" gushed Estella, rolling her eyes. "Man, I wish!"

Pressing a few buttons on her player to cue up a string of her favourite Metallica songs, Estella switched the headphones back on and offered him the walkman.

"Here," she said, yawning. "Listen to some more of their stuff, if you want, I'm about to drop."

"Maybe in the morning." said Harry, accepting the charmed walkman that mobilised Estella's entire music collection - and set it down on the bedside table. "Anymore of that, and I'll be bouncing off the walls… and we'd better get some sleep if we're going to make a day of it in Diagon Alley tomorrow."

"It's going to be weird leaving this place." Estella sighed, rolling onto her back and resting her hands under her head.

"I'm sure we'll be back." Harry assured her, yawning as he mirrored Estella's actions.

Estella nodded as she began to drift off, but Harry didn't see it, he was already asleep.


"Are they asleep?" asked Sirius, craning his ear against the teenager's door to try and detect the levelling out of their breathing.

Unbeknownst to the pair, Sirius had awoken without apparent provocation shortly after Estella had pulled herself out of her nightmare. The parental instinct that sunk in his gut, silently urging him to check on his child had him up and crossing the floor of the room he shared with Remus before he was even aware of what he was doing.

At first – when Sirius had first been reunited with his child - he had not known what the unsettling restlessness was. He'd already spent a lot of his time, back then, checking in on his daughter at every opportunity, as though to reassure himself that she was real, that he'd not recognised the feeling for what it was. Now Sirius was a little wiser, he could tell immediately when his child needed him.

"Sirius." Remus had called him back, the awoken werewolf merely opening his eyes to look at his friend. "She's fine."

The werewolf had, of course, stirred at the first sign of noises coming from the next room. Such was the curse of preternatural hearing. Though his first instinct had, like Sirius, been to go in there and pull the distressed children from their nightmares, Remus knew better. The teens were getting too old to be coddled like that, and with both of them set to embark for Hogwarts within the next two days, it was much more important that they learned methods to self-comfort.

As much as it pained Sirius to admit it, the worried Animagus knew that his friend was right. They both knew, also, that Estella already had means to ensure her dreams did not recur – which is why they did not burst into the room indignantly when the heavy metal refrains of the distinctive Muggle band had reverberated through the house, rousing a disorientated and alarmed Tonks from her post. That didn't mean that either man particularly liked the idea. Both did, indeed, yearn to see to the children's needs; if only to reassure themselves that they were all right and that, as guardians, they weren't entirely helpless.

No sooner had Remus confirmed that the children's breathing had deepened, signifying their return to slumber, did Sirius creep the door open. Tonks had long since stumbled back down the stairs to her room, mumbling something about silencing charms and returning the favour at dawn. Remus had followed her down in pursuit of a comforting dose of chocolate ice cream. Neither teenager knew it, but the two Marauders were just as distraught about leaving their sanctuary and returning the children to school where they would be out of reach and in potential danger.

Sirius, meanwhile, had closed the bedroom door behind him and made his way between the two beds. After checking that each child was in fact safe and comfortably asleep, the weary father transformed swiftly and curled up on the floor by the bedside table. Lulled to sleep by the rhythmic motions of the sleeping teenagers' breathing, Sirius Black sighed contently.

'I'm going to miss this.' he thought to himself as sleep claimed him.


"For the last time, do not call me 'Bat Girl'!" Estella protested. Sirius had made a point to recount Estella's unfortunate encounter with the falling waste and the others didn't hesitate in pushing her buttons.

"But it's so fitting!" pouted Harry. "Amongst other things, your uncle is the greasy bat himself…"

"Don't even go there, Harry Potter!" shrieked Estella, levelling her wand at him threateningly. Years of being called 'mini-bat' in the years before Hogwarts had made her particularly subjective. "Under-aged laws or not, I will hex you!"

"Estella…" two men chided her lightly, their voices laced with mirth. The group had recently departed their holiday sanctuary and had Apparated with the children to a nondescript alley off Diagon Alley.

"What?" snapped Estella huffily. "If I get expelled, at least I wouldn't have to put up with him!"

Sirius rounded on his daughter excitedly. "By Merlin's beard, you're right!" he exclaimed. "You get expelled and I won't ever have to give you up, either! So go ahead, Hex him to next week!"

Breaking out of their respective characters – for they were only just fooling around, as usual – the players in the warped little game began to laugh.

"That was really convincing, that time." marvelled Harry. "I actually believed you were about to hex me!"

"Who said I was joking?" said Estella malevolently from her place against Remus' side. "Anyway, you're one to talk when it comes to irritating nicknames, you, you, 'Boy-Who-Lived-to-Vex-us-All!'"

Beside them, Sirius, who had side-Apparated with Harry, laughed. Turning on him simultaneously, the teenagers snapped at him.

"Can it, Stumpy!"

Over the course of the days immediately after the full moon, none of the vacationers had emerged from the night without repercussion. Irritated from having to spend half the night awake, unable to sleep on account of Moony's howling, Tonks had hexed Remus with a spell that had him trying to communicate in howls and barks all day. When Harry had tried to take advantage of the situation by poking fun at the disgruntled man at every opportunity, Remus had pointed his wand at the boy and jinxed him with a non-verbal spell. Until Tonks' spell had wore off and Remus was able to supply the name of the jinx he'd used so that it could be countered, Harry had to go through the day with green hair, black eyes and red skin. The antics of the two teenagers as Harry had taken to chasing Estella, who had taken a few photos and was since trying to protect her camera from reprisals, did not fail to get the adults' minds off the storm they were about to enter into upon their return to London.

Estella, meanwhile, had to endure Remus and Tonks filling Sirius' - and, to a lesser extent, Harry's – head with an explanation of the fictitious character. To make matters worse, Remus had found a visual depiction of it in an abandoned comic book from his youth. Ever since, her father had threatened to hex her clothes to resemble the caped crusader's costume… that was, of course, until Estella threatened to remove the bones in all of his limbs before strapping his helpless body to a Muggle searchlight and using him as the bat signal.

Subsequently, the memory of Sirius' boneless leg had prompted the cheeky teens to call him 'Stumpy' at every opportunity. Given the name's likeness to the name 'Stimpy', Remus became 'Ren' by default, though none of the adults were quite sure why. As for Tonks, after she had limped into the kitchen the following morning - everyone too wrapped up in marvelling Sirius' fully healed and regrown leg to remember about her ankle - the jovial Animagus had sniggered and begun calling her 'Limpy Nymphy'. Course, after what Tonks had done to him after that, no one else dared to follow his example. Even now, two days later, one could see the odd peacock feather in the thoroughly chastised wizard's hair.

Walking together happily as they made their way towards the magical shopping precinct, Sirius paused to crack his back into place. Early that morning, Tonks had extracted her revenge by blaring loud music into the upstairs bedroom. Both children had awoken with a jolt and fallen out of bed; their landing softened by the torso of the groggy Animagus whose reflexes were just not quick enough at that ungodly hour. Seeing him wince and rub his back in reminiscence, the teenagers merely rolled their eyes at his theatrics and latched onto his arms on either side. Catching on, Tonks latched herself to Harry's side, while Remus made himself at home beside his goddaughter.

Unable to help himself, Remus began to hum the refrain to the signature song from the Muggle Musical, The Wizard of Oz. Recognising the catchy tune immediately, the teenagers began to laugh heartily, whilst Sirius, as usual, was looking confused. With a Muggle father, Tonks was more than familiar with the classic musical and was smiling contently until Remus delightfully allocated characters to each of them. He, of course, was quite aptly the Tin Man; whilst Harry was the Lion – after his dose of courage, of course – and Estella was Dorothy. Sirius was rather confused as to what a Muggle band was doing in a Muggle children's story, but took to the character of Toto without complaint. Tonks, however, had taken particular offence at being likened to the clumsy Scarecrow.

"Don't even try it, Ren," Tonks had said warningly. She'd been in the nearby French village that morning collecting some breakfast from a local patisserie – for the house had been cleared of the last of the food the night before. By chance, she'd caught an episode of the cartoon 'Ren and Stimpy' as she had passed an electronic store. "You don't want to find out first hand what the kids named you for."

Remus sobered immediately, though inwardly he was making a mental note to find a television and T.V. Guide as soon as the kids were back at school. Emerging into the normally bustling street, the others suddenly had reasons to sober up their act. Around them, Diagon Alley resembled a ghost town. Shortly after Harry's hearing, as Dumbledore had informed Sirius during one of their nightly mirror-talks, Cornelius Fudge had been deposed as Minister and replaced with someone the ex-Auror had known quite well, back in the day.

Apparently, the notorious directness with which Rufus Scrimgeour had approached his position high in the echelons of the Ministry's Law Enforcement Department had been reflected into his dealings as the newly appointed Minister. One of his first orders of business had been to confirm Voldemort's return. Pamphlets informing Magical families how to protect themselves against possible threats had been issued before the Daily Prophet had even caught wind of the administration change, and notices had been issued for wanted Death Eaters.

Shivering slightly – both from the cooler temperature of London and the chilling realisation that their world was again at war - the returned travellers braced themselves. Seeing a need to inject levity into the situation, Estella tightened her grip on her father and godfather's arms and took a tentative step forward.

"Snark Lords and slime balls with masks, oh my." she said in a sing-song voice, borrowing heavily from Dorothy's own lament as she had led the way through the shadier sections of the yellow brick road.

Catching on immediately, the others – even Sirius, who could, despite not knowing the film reference, appreciate his daughter's imagery – chuckled. Smiling wistfully, they headed out into the eerily quiet cobblestone alley, the amusement on their faces not to be mistaken for inattention. Neither of the teenagers said anything as the adults' hold on them failed to relent, and the emergence of wands was welcomed.

"Everything's fine," Sirius assured the child on either side of him. "Just be on your guard, okay?"

Everyone nodded, their eyes scouring the landscape before them as they ventured forth. Diagon Alley had changed. The colourful, glittering window displays of spellbooks, potion ingredients and cauldrons were lost to view; hidden behind large Ministry of Magic posters that had been pasted over them. Most of these sombre purple posters were, by the looks of it, blown-up versions of the security advice the Ministry had sent out to residents, whilst others bore moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the loose. Stiffening slightly, Estella was reminded of a time not too long ago when her father had still been wanted and the very same walls had been plastered with his face. Filled simultaneously with a foreboding fear of loss and indignant sense of irony, both father and daughter shook their heads. If such measures had not sufficed to recapture the wrongly-accused Animagus, then what chance did the wanted posters have to ensuring the capture of these actual criminals?

"It's the ones people don't know the identity of that we really have to watch for." said Tonks darkly. Lucius Malfoy, for instance, was not widely suspected of his crimes.

"Oh bugger." moaned Harry, pointing. "Fortescue's shut up shop."

Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour was, in fact, boarded up, as were a number of other shops along the way. In their place, a number of shabby-looking stalls had sprung up along the street. The nearest one, which had been erected outside Flourish and Blotts under a striped, stained awning, had a cardboard sign pinned to its front:

Amulets: Effective Against Werewolves, Dementors and Inferi

A seedy-looking little wizard was rattling armfuls of silver symbols on chains at passers-by.

"One for your little, girl, sir?" he called at Sirius as they passed, leering at Estella. 'Protect her pretty neck?'

Displaying reflexes that belied his unassuming exterior, Sirius unlinked his arms from the two teenagers and caught the man's wrist as he attempted to get a closer look at the pendant around his daughter's neck. With his other hand, he pressed his wand into the man's neck. Remus too, had stood in front of his goddaughter protectively and drawn his own wand.

"Whoa!" the man pleaded. "I was just admirin' that charming little necklet. Where'd you get it, lassie?"

"Stay away from my daughter!" warned Sirius. "Go near her again and you'll be hoping I do a good job hiding your body, lest Voldemort curse you into one of those Inferi you profess to protect against."

Extracting himself from the infuriated Animagus' grip, the scrawny looking man scrambled to maintain his dignity. "I'll have you know my amulets are highly effective!"

"Oh really?" asked Remus, surprising all who knew him when he didn't hesitate to pick up one of the silver-looking amulets. "This so-called werewolf repellent isn't even silver!"

"It is too!" the man maintained, though his assurances fell on deaf ears. "You can't possibly claim it's not just by picking it up!"

"You want to bet?" snarled Remus, tossing the useless trinket at him in disgust. "Why don't you come join me for dinner on, say, I don't know, the next Full Moon?"

Realisation sinking into the man's features, he turned on his heel and took off in the opposite direction, his wares forgotten.

"That's right!" Tonks called after him, shaking her fist. "Nick off back to Knockturn Alley where you belong, you, you, you…"

"Slimy, sleazy bastard?" Estella offered.

"Estella!" The men chided her for her language.

"What?" shrugged Estella, "are you denying that the name doesn't suit him?"

"Don't let me hear about you using that kind of language at school," Sirius warned, putting his arm around his daughter protectively. "Minnie will have my head."

"-and you'd better not even so much as refer to Professor McGonagall as that in private conversation, either," Remus suggested, giving Sirius a reproachful look as though to reprimand the taller man for teaching the teenagers bad habits. Despite graduating from Hogwarts almost twenty years ago, they two former Gryffindors still feared the wrath of their former Head of House. In a manner of speaking, they had spent so much time in her office as students that they saw more of her than they did their own mothers, and as such, they could not bring themselves to question her continued authority over them.

As though cursed for thinking about a woman who could pull such a hold over grown adults, a shock of red hair caught their attention.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Sirius cursed, pulling each teen by an arm and bustling them in the opposite direction, towards the Magical Menagerie. "That's all we need!"

"What?" asked Remus, turning around to seek out what his friend had seen. Blanching at the sight of the formidable redhead, who, blissfully, had yet to set her eyes on them, he pulled Tonks away from a stall purporting to sell spectacles that, when worn, changed the wearer's facial appearance. Hurrying along, they wordlessly crammed into the doorway and into the musty, dimly lit Magical Menagerie. Squeezing amongst the cages and boxes along the window, they peered at the passing Weasley through cracks in the posters that shielded them from view, watching her pass out of sight. Watching the woman as she made a beeline for the Apothecary, the werewolf expelled a breath he didn't realise he'd been hiding.

Beside him, crushed against a stack of baskets, Estella started to giggle.

"I don't believe it!" she exclaimed.

"Don't start!" the two Marauders silenced her with a look. It wasn't that they were afraid of the Weasley mother's wrath, exactly – Sirius, for one, couldn't give a toss what the woman thought of him – they just didn't want to draw the attention of the entire Order before they had a chance to empty their pockets of a serious amount of gold. It was, after all, Sirius' first venture into the shopping district with his two charges as a free man, and he'd been looking forward to spoiling them rotten all summer.

Checking to see if any other customers were within ear shot, Harry grinned and turned his attention to the tank of snakes he was pressed against. Inside the tank, were three snakes of varying colours and sizes. His eyes finding an affinity with a skinny black python with green diamonds patterned on his scales, Harry caught the snake's attention.

"Hello, there," he hissed, his mind making the switch to Parseltongue without being consciously aware of him doing so.

Behind him, with his back slightly turned, Remus' finely-tuned ears picked up on the quiet hissing and he spun around in alarm. Before he could open his mouth to warn the boy-who-lived against being heard, Sirius grabbed his arm and shook his head. The boy's godfather had already ascertained that, asides from the sales assistant absorbed in an edition of The Quibbler on the far side of the store, they were alone in the room. By the looks of it, the underlying sounds of the animals shuffling around in their cages and chattering away in their respective languages had masked the sounds of their entry to the shop, for the shop assistant had yet to flinch.

Watching the bespectacled Gryffindor as he engaged in an involved conversation with all of the snakes, oblivious to the awed audience of adults behind him, no one noticed as Estella made her way over to the display of Kneazles.

"Well, don't you just look the picture of a skunk?" Estella mused, her eyes favouring a small, unusual looking Kneazle that was black with thin white stripes down its back. Reaching in and petting it contently, she frowned. "I wish I could talk to animals."

Pulling the small Kneazle completely out of its pen, she smiled as the furry creature curled up in her arms and began to purr happily. Becoming slightly agitated by the novelty the adults indulged in watching Harry hiss at the snakes, Estella was struck by inspiration.

"Hey, Doolittle," she drawled, crossing over to them to where her furry little friend could be in clear view. "Can you speak, 'skunk'?"

"Skunk?" Harry's eyes flew open in alarm as he saw what he thought to be a skunk in Estella's arms. Pointing at it in shock as he backed up against the slightly more aware adults behind him, he gawked. "Skunk! Estella, watch out!"

Smugly correcting her victim as to the creature's true species, Estella rolled her eyes. "Honestly Harry, you're such a show off!" she said. Then, gesturing to the Kneazle in her arms, she began stroking the white markings on its back. "Besides, even if Skunk here were a skunk, it'd likely have the offending glands removed before it were put on offer as a domesticated pet. The Apothecary does a booming trade in them in the manufacture of Dung Bombs, you know."

"I see you two have made some new friends," Sirius said, rubbing his hands together happily. Time to make his first purchase of the day. "How would you like to keep them, mmm?"

Smiling widely at first, Estella was about to express her excitement before she relented.

"But wait," she said gloomily, "you're only allowed one familiar at school and Harry and I already have our Owls."

"Yeah," Harry frowned. "And I'm pretty sure snakes aren't on the list of allowed pets anyway."

"So?" Sirius hardly flinched as he reached for his money bag and gestured towards the counter. "I didn't ask if you could have them, I asked if you wanted them!"

"Well of course!" said Estella without hesitation. There was just something calming in holding that particular Kneazle – like it had chosen her to be its owner – and she could not bring herself to put it down and walk away. Harry too was smiling wistfully at the runty looking snake, the boy excited about having a little pet he could carry with him everywhere and talk to when he was alone.

A great deal of gold for pet and maintenance-related purchases later and the group emerged from the Menagerie with two new additions to their group. The teenagers didn't quite know how they were going to get their new pets to Hogwarts, but Sirius had vowed to 'take care of it' and left it at that. In the meantime, both teenagers had forgone using the respective basket and tank for the animals to transport their new familiars on their person. Having verbal control over his small snake, whose name, Harry explained, just could not translate into English, the young Parselmouth was comfortable allowing the cold-blooded creature to curl up around his wand arm, under the sleeve of his robe. Estella's Kneazle, Skunk – the name had stuck – had crawled up Estella's arm and curled up on her shoulder as soon as the purchase had been confirmed. With its long lion-like tail wrapped securely around the chain that already bore the elated Ravenclaw's pendant, Estella was reluctant to try and move it from its precarious position.

Checking the quiet street for any further sign of the Weasley woman, Sirius tore his eyes away from the sight of his first accomplishment of the day and announced that a trip to Gringotts was in order. Once his money bags were bursting at the seams once more, they headed off to collect the children's school supplies for another year. Though they had not been within reach to receive their school lists in the mail, what items Dumbledore had not taken the opportunity to inform Sirius of, in one of their nightly chats in the mirror, the teenagers were confident the respective shops would be able to supply for them.

Eying his godson's form up and down, Sirius made a decision. "I think we'd better do Madam Malkin's first, Harry here looks to have grown half a foot over the summer. I dare say you're gonna need new robes, kiddo. What about you, Estella?"

"I'm fine for robes," said Estella, sighing slightly. "I seem destined to stay this so-called 'height' forever."

"You're not that short." Remus assured her, despite the fact that even he towered over her still. "You're not even 14 and you're already the same height as Tonks."

"Must be a family thing." Tonks sympathised with her second cousin. "I hate to break it to you, but I don't think you'll be growing much more… I think I grew my last inch around your age."

"Great." grumbled Estella before looking up at her father for permission. "Is it okay if Moony 'n me go to Flourish and Blotts instead? I'll get Harry's books for him and then we can meet you in Quality Quidditch Supplies… Uncle Remus, you wouldn't actually be out to get new robes today, would you?"

"How come, when you want something, I am Uncle Remus?" Remus mused, coming up beside his goddaughter to pet her Kneazle.

"The same way she's my daughter when she short sheets your bed, and your favourite little cub when she gets her school results." drawled Sirius, grinning lopsidedly.

"You guys sound like an old married couple, you know that, don't you?" offered Tonks, instinctively side-stepping behind Harry as she said it. "Come on, cousin-mine, I could use some new casual robes myself; and I wouldn't mind checking out the latest Nimbus…"

Sirius, however, hesitated. Though he would normally welcome the opportunity to forego a bookstore in favour of indulging his passion for Quidditch, the devoted father was inclined to put himself through his daughter's whims just to see her happy. Like her mother, Estella simply loved books. Although Sirius would never be able to understand the joy that the Ravenclaw got from a new book release, it did not mean that he was not able to get his own satisfaction from watching his child clear out the bookstore at his expense. As the children were soon to discover, Sirius was not intending to say no to either of them that day. He was almost about to suggest that they go to all the shops together when his mind reminded him to consider Harry's needs. The athletic young Gryffindor – the image of his father before him – looked extremely keen to hand over the responsibility for his classroom needs to the book lovers before them. As much as he was willing to do anything for his daughter, he found he could not deny his godson either. Despite the niggling insecurity he felt by the idea of handing Estella over to Remus for a yet another experience he'd be denied, the rational side of him acknowledged that Estella's suggestion was a suitable compromise.

"Here," he said finally, handing over a bulging money bag. Ever since Harry had entered into his care, Sirius had insisted that the young boy let him take care of his needs, requesting that the boy keep the money his parents had left him for when he was of age. "If it's not enough, set up a tab and I'll take care of it before we leave."

Eyes bulging at the size and weight of the bag her father had handed her, Estella's mind began filling itself with approximations of just how many books the money in her possession would permit her to buy. Shaking her head dismissively, the practicality of trunk space and actual needs pulling her to her senses, Estella rolled her eyes at her father, hugged him tightly in thanks and bounded off towards the bookstore.

"Estella, don't go out of sight!" Remus beat Sirius to it, calling after Estella in alarm. Though it was unlikely that any Death Eaters would be foolish enough to make themselves known in the heavily-monitored Diagon Alley; after spending a relaxing couple of weeks in the reliable safety of their beachside hideaway, the number of variables they were now surrounded with, frayed at their nerves. All around them, shoppers were bustling around in small, tight-knit groups; everyone intent on their business and not stopping to talk to anyone. The anxious, harried looks on the nameless faces were inevitably starting to bring the morale of the group down; the carefree simplicity and safety of their getaway quickly being forgotten.

"Meet you by the Snitch display in, say, an hour?" Sirius suggested, knowing that it was best to give each other a time frame. He trusted his oldest friend with his daughter implicitly, and the directions of what to do if anything were to happen went unspoken. Getting the message, Remus nodded in agreement and took off towards Estella, who was waiting patiently by the doorway, careful to remain in sight.

Reconvening in the Quality Quidditch Supplies precisely one hour later, the group bantered amongst themselves – Remus and Estella, telling the others about new books they had found, with Sirius and Harry sharing news of a new range of Quidditch robes – as they made their way back to Madam Malkin's to pick up Harry's finished robes. Once done, their shrunken purchases securely stowed away in their robes alongside their trunks and purchases from earlier in the day, they made their way through the Apothecary and Eeylops Owl Emporium to pick up potion supplies and owl treats respectively. All of their immediate school needs now met, the teenagers took the opportunity to drag the adults along the row, pausing and stopping occasionally to explore the wares of obscure little shops and stalls.

Many of the shops, however, were vastly understocked. Even Flourish and Blotts, as Estella had earlier exclaimed in disgust, had run out of some books on the Hogwarts lists. In light of the war now upon them, the proprietors had taken it upon themselves to secure their stockpiles at an undisclosed location, certain in the fact that many of the families would take to sending away for their children's school supplies rather than venturing out into the streets and buying them in-store. The salesperson had been extremely apologetic about the oversight, and had promised to deliver any books they needed as soon as possible.

"He gave us a discount, too," said Estella.

"Yes, but of all the books that had to be missing from my list!" groaned Harry. "Did it have to be Potions?"

Estella looked at Harry sympathetically. "Don't worry, Harry," she said. "If my uncle gives you a hard time about it, blame it on me. If I hadn't spent so long in the magical creatures aisle, that Hufflepuff in your year wouldn't have nicked off with the last copy."

"If it's any consolation, Harry." said Remus. "I am certain you are not the only student in your class in this situation. Estella had to place an Owl Order for her Transfiguration text, too."

"Like I'm not far enough behind in that class!" moaned Estella.

"I think I may have dropped my old Potions text in a cauldron, Harry." Sirius smiled apologetically. 'Hexed it to explode in Severus' face on the train at the end of term, more like' he thought to himself with a sad smile.

"But Estella, I may have my old fourth-year Transfiguration book around somewhere. Didn't you find my old school trunk in Harry's room at headquarters last summer?"

The room Harry had initially shared with Ron just after his birthday was Sirius' childhood bedroom. While cleaning out the house the summer before, Estella had been flabbergasted to find that her father had run away from home and left his school trunk behind. She had yet to understand how a person could be so willing to abandon their old school things as soon as they graduated.

"Yeah, come to think of it, I think I put your old books on the shelves in the library." said Estella. After their clean up, there were quite a few empty places on the shelves of the impressive Black Library from where Sirius and Remus had either destroyed or relocated some of the collection's darker tomes.

The group walked around in comfortable silence until something bright caught their eye. There, standing out amongst the muted, nondescript, poster-plastered shopfronts on either side, was number 93 Diagon Alley.

"Must be a new shop." Remus mused. "They're having opening sales."

Crossing the narrow road to get a closer look, the group saw first the casual passers-by ahead of them that either looked back over their shoulders at the windows, or stopped still in their tracks. Once they were close enough, Tonks, the two Marauders, and their charges could see that the left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced and shrieked. The first to realise what sort of store they were standing before, Sirius' eyes began to twinkle and light up in appreciation. Remus, meanwhile, had been drawn, along with Estella, to the right-hand window, where a Ministry-type poster was characteristically on display. What was different about this particular announcement, however, was immediately apparent. The flashing yellow letters conveyed not a message of warning, but rather, a cleverly marketed advertisement:

Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who?

You SHOULD Be Worrying About

U-NO-POO –

the Constipation Sensation That's Gripping the Nation!

Coming up beside them, Sirius' eyes flitted over the sign quickly and he began to laugh.

"They'll be murdered in their beds!" Remus whispered dryly, fearful for the owners of the store.

"No they won't!" said Sirius, age seemingly washing away from his face as he eyed the doorway longingly. "This is brilliant! Just what we all need! I wonder what genius thought to open such a store…" he looked up, gaping when he saw the name of the store. "No way!"

Following the amazed Animagus' eyes, the revelation that they were standing in front of a joke store called 'Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes' was met with varying degrees of speculation. Having given his Triwizards winnings to the twins to fund their market venture, Harry was amazed to see an immediate return from his investment. Both he and Estella had caught wind of the twins' plans earlier in the summer, wondering where they'd disappeared off to at all hours, but neither of them could have imagined this.

Following the openly enthused Sirius into the store, a quietly interested Tonks by their side and the observant, but otherwise unassuming Remus bringing up the rear, the teens were unsurprised to find the store packed with customers. Staring around at the brightly coloured boxes that were stacked to the ceilings on all three interior walls, the soon-to-be customers looked at the labels in unmasked curiosity. Sirius, in particular, had gravitated towards a display called 'Skiving Snackboxes', which led Remus to suspect his friend of having a hand in subtly guiding the twins in their invention. Though they'd never quite managed it on such a scale, James and Sirius were known to explore any avenue in their efforts to skive class, including brewing a particularly memorable potion that grounded the entire Quidditch team for a week as they recovered in the Infirmary.

Shaking his head fondly, Remus asserted that the children were safe within the store and allowed himself a look at a lone box of innocent looking sweets called Nosebleed Nougat.

"Ah, so that's how those boys got so many blood noses." Remus mused to himself, having lost count of how many times the twins had sought out their mother with bleeding faces whilst they had all been living under the same roof at headquarters. Judging by how few of the boxes were left on show, Remus surmised that the product must have been extremely popular and, discreetly, he picked the last box off the shelf.

Estella, meanwhile, was finding much interest in a row of bins, each carrying a variety of trick wands. Whilst the cheapest merely turned into rubber chickens or pairs of pants when waved, Estella's attention was drawn to the most expensive on offer, which was promised to beat the unwary user around the head and neck. Picking out several, she by-passed the boxes of quills, which were neatly stacked in rows according to type, and headed towards Harry. Though the Self-Inking quill could have been rather practical; Estella had no illusions that, given the nature of the store – and its assumed proprietors – there had to be a catch.

She found Harry amidst a gaggle of excitable ten year olds who had formed a wrapt audience; their eyes too busy ogling a game demonstration to notice whose company they were presently in. Choosing not to call out his name and draw unwanted attention to the boy-who-lived-to-want-to-hide-from-his-fame, Estella settled for a wave and moved on towards another display on the counter.

"Patented Daydream Charms…" she muttered as she began to read the information on the back of a box bearing a highly coloured picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl as they stood on the deck of a pirate ship. She read on:

"One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not for sale for under-sixteens."

"Wow," she mused aloud. "That's pretty extraordinary magic!"

"For that, Estella." said a voice behind her, "you can have one for free!"

"But I'm not sixteen." Estella pointed out, almost dropping the box in surprise as she spun around to see the owner of the voice. As suspected, it was one of the twins.

"Ah, but you see," the unidentified twin leant forward and continued in a hush-hush tone. "We had to put that on there to get Mum off our backs…"

"As a rule," the other twin came up beside her, uncannily in tune with what his twin were saying, even though he'd not been anywhere near moments earlier. Estella immediately had the suspicion that this was all part of their sell. "We don't make this product available to those in below sixth year."

"We hate to admit it, but the years leading up to one's O.W.Ls are very important." the first twin who had spoken – which Estella now suspected to be Fred – told her flatly. Without even asking, Estella knew he was imitating the words of his mother. "But, for you, we'll make an exception."

Taking in the sight of the twins as they stood before her, both wearing matching magenta robes that clashed magnificently with their hair, Estella smiled. "How on earth did you convince your parents to let you do this?" she asked curiously. "I mean, you haven't dropped out of school, have you?"

"Nope." Fred assured her. "Though we kind of planned to."

George endeavoured to explain. "Mum finally gave up on trying to put a stop to us experimenting… there wasn't a whole lot she could do once we came of age and could actually start using our wands as well."

Fred looked at his brother before continuing. "With our, er, recent cash investment, we found it prudent to make something of the opportunity; so we came out here and bought a lease on this place."

"Dirt cheap rate we got too." George gloated. "Since most of the folks are thinking of moving on out until the war thing blows over."

"Anyway, Mum didn't find out until we'd already signed the paperwork-" Fred grinned.

"She wasn't too happy when we told her we were going to ditch school." George frowned slightly at the memory. "Though I think part of her was happy to come see what a good job of setting up we'd done."

"I don't recommend Harry tell her where we got our money from, though." Fred suggested. "She is still under the impression that Ludo Bagman repaid us with interest in compensation for that Leprechaun Gold he swindled us with last year at the World Cup."

Nodding understandingly – Estella wouldn't wish the woman's wrath on anyone – she smiled. "So how'd you decide to stick with school, then? How will you run the store from Hogwarts?"

The twins proceeded to tell Estella about a deal their parents had struck with the Headmaster. They'd already hired some staff to man the store during the term, and in return for returning for their final year of classes, their Headmaster and Head of House had arranged for their creations to be graded academically in lieu of regular assignments. Needless to say, most of the teachers were relieved to get the Weasley twins working on something that wouldn't disrupt their class.

"We still have to do the tests and stuff to show that we're at the same level as our classmates." Fred assured her. "We just do different stuff in the practical lessons and submit different assignments."

"And McGonagall has set up for us to use an unused storeroom in the tower to base our research at, isn't that great?" added George enthusiastically.

Estella was immediately glad she was a resident of a different house. Smiling politely, she congratulated the twins on getting their business off the ground and waved her companions over. Harry had already gravitated towards her once he'd seen the twins with her, but the adults were still negotiating the crowds of ten-year-olds. Getting their attention, the adults smiled back at her and waved… something that was not particularly a good idea for Sirius, whose arms were laden with a precarious stack of boxes.

Like the good friend that he was, Remus used his free hand – for he too had something in his hand – to assist Sirius, whilst Tonks dashed back to the front of the store to collect a carry-all basket. The twins, Harry, and Estella could only watch with detached amusement as the bubbly Metamorphagus – whose bubblegum pink hair stood out amongst the swarm of children – made her way back to the two adults, a basket held out in her hand.

"Here you go, Sirius." Tonks thrust the basket at him, though she was still too far away. Misjudging the difference as he balanced a hand out to accept the basket, the pile of boxes swayed forward, and, in darting forth to try and restore balance, Sirius headed straight into his cousin's path, who had yet to stop.

Seeing the imminent collision, Remus had set his own lone box aside in favour of drawing his wand. Aiming it at the flying boxes, he managed to successfully slow down their descent to the ground. Sirius and Tonks were still a tangle of limbs on the floor, the man's prospective purchases hovering overhead, when the teens made their way over to them.

"Can't take you lot anywhere, can we?" Estella shook her head, leaning down to help her father up, only to be pulled down onto the ground with him. "Dad! What the-"

"Shhh!" he cut her off, pointing to the front of the store where a familiar redhead had just entered, a pair of redheads and a bushy-haired brunette slightly behind her. "Weasley alert!"

"She get to you too, eh?" Fred and George looked down at the stricken Animagus in understanding, instinctively standing in front of Harry and Remus, who had since floated Sirius' goods down onto the checkout counter. Tonks, meanwhile, had the luxury of being able to morph her features into someone unrecognisable before standing, drawing attention to herself as the twins subtly gestured for their hidden customers to slip behind the counter and into the screened-off staff area. Having commuted back to Grimmauld Place every night where their mother could ensure their safety and feed them well, the twins knew only too well the furore the master of the household had caused when he had taken off with the children in his care, a werewolf and Metamorphagus in tow. While Dumbledore had been begrudgingly appeased by Sirius' nightly mirror-calls and could not deny the man's ability to keep the saviour of the wizarding world safe, other members of the Order – their mother in particular – took specific offence to the nature of their defiance. In some circles, it was considered sacrosanct to contradict the wizened old Headmaster and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and defy him in any way.

To their relief, Mrs Weasley was merely dropping the teenagers in her care off before moving on to the nearby grocer to pick up her latest order. Ushering their siblings and Hermione into the staff room, they urged Harry and his motley crew out of hiding. Once reunited, the group stopped to take stock.

"What happened to your eye?" Estella asked Tonks, wondering if she could have hurt it in the fall.

"A punching telescope by the window display." said Tonks, rubbing aforementioned eye ruefully.

"Oh, blimey, I forgot about those," said Fred, handing her a small jar of yellow paste that he carried with him. "Don't worry, it'll clear that up within an hour. We should know, we had to test our products on ourselves."

Checking to make sure that the Weasley matriarch had not returned, Fred and George beckoned the group towards the back of the store, down past the Muggle card tricks and the tubs of edible Dark Marks to a mysterious, curtained off area. It wasn't very often that their clientele consisted of a former prisoner, an Auror and a werewolf; and they were keen to get the group's opinions on a range of Shielded apparel.

"I suspect you'll get one in your locker, Tonks." Fred said proudly. "Ministry ordered 500 of them, you know."

"It's amazing how many people don't know a decent shield charm." said George, shaking his head in dismay. "We're getting loads of orders."

"Good." said Sirius, an uncharacteristic firmness crossing his features as he admired the twins' ingenuity. "You boys could very well save lives with such innovation. I hope that mother of yours realises that."

"Oh, she does." Fred said. "We're here now, aren't we?"

"Never thought I'd see the day where we'd actually get a place in one of her good books." George marvelled. "Especially when we're doing something we want to do."

Sidling up to Harry, Fred put his arm around the boy's shoulder and whispered in his ear. "We can't thank you enough for your faith in us, Harry." he said soberly. "It'd have taken us an age to get this off the ground without you."

Though Fred was going to lengths to keep his exchange with Harry private, two sets of ears heard every word. Whilst Remus merely blinked in acknowledgement – for he could hardly be surprised for any son of James being attached to such a venture – and twitched his lips slightly; Sirius, who had been standing quite close to Harry, grinned widely.

"You know," said Sirius conversationally. "If you should ever want to do some collaboration with those Marauders you're so frequently yammering on about, I'm sure Remus and I could set something up, couldn't we, Moony?"

Remus' head jerked up at the name as he caught on. Shrugging nonchalantly, he played along. "Whatever you say, Padfoot." he said, watching the twins carefully as the pieces slid into place.

"Oh my… are you saying what…" stammered Fred.

"What we think you're saying?" continued George, both twins' eyes were wide.

"You're Marauders?" they completed in unison.

"Finally!" Ron exclaimed, backing off slightly when the pair of identical redheads rounded on him accusingly.

"Wait, you knew?" said George.

"You didn't tell us!" said Fred, feigning a hurt tone of voice.

"We all knew." said Ginny in a matter of fact tone. "Get over it."

"Harry…" said George, the twin looking at him for confirmation.

"Estella…" said Fred, doing the same.

"Is it true?" they both asked. Harry and Estella nodded, smirking slightly.

"Surprise?" said Estella.

"That's an understatement!" said Fred, ogling Remus, who was grinning wolfishly. "George, to think, we had Moony as a teacher for a whole year and didn't even know!"

"Well I'd hardly be a Marauder if I let people on to my secret identity." said Remus illusively, inwardly bewildered by the amount of fanfare the antics he and his friends had partaken in during school was getting.

"Okay, okay, okay." said George once the initial shock wore down. "If you're Moony, Professor, and you're Padfoot, Sirius, then who are Wormtail and Prongs?"

"Prongs was my Dad." supplied Harry proudly.

"And if you want to see Wormtail again," Estella emphasised the word 'again', knowing it would baffle the two twins, "invite yourself up for tea in Dumbledore's office."


Revelations over with, the twins delighted in showing the two real-live Marauders the fruits of their labour. From their Instant Darkness Powder, to the Decoy Detonators and their entire Wonder Witch range; the twins wanted the seal of approval on everything, and Sirius and the affable Remus were only too obliging. So caught up were the men in all the attention, that none of them noticed Estella slip away. Having wandered to the front of the store to get a second look at a cage full of Pygmy Puffs, Estella's curiosity was piqued when she saw Lucius and Draco Malfoy slink past the store window, bound for Knockturn Alley.

Knowing that she shouldn't do it, but compelled by some imminent force to investigate what the two Malfoys were up to, Estella followed at a safe distance. Pulling her Kneazle from her shoulder and stowing her away out of sight in a pocket inside her robes, she watched with abstract horror as Draco led Lucius into Borgin and Burkes and pointed out what she knew to be a Vanishing Cabinet. It was not unlike another that her uncle had disabled when she was quite small and he had come across her about to step inside. At the time, Estella had not realised what the fuss was about, and the memory only stuck with her because her uncle had gotten really angry at her when she'd given him her reasons. It had taken her godfather weeks to agree to read the rest of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe to her and she had to swear that she would not climb into any such cupboard at the school and attempt to will herself away to far away places.

Getting more and more irate as the two Malfoys loomed over the sinister-looking Borgin, intimidating him with their gait and family notoriety, Estella's head was wheeling at the possibilities. If, before it were jinxed, the vanishing cabinet at Hogwarts were in fact a passageway to the matching cabinet the Malfoys were presently inspecting, then the security of Hogwarts could be severely compromised. She knew she ought to have run and told an adult immediately, and yet, because Draco were involved, she held back. Perhaps if she were to just talk to him, she could make him see reason.

Watching as Lucius excused himself and exited the store via the man's sooty Floo connection, Estella saw her chance when an unguarded Draco sauntered out of the store and into the alley. Following him until they were in a more populated area – she wasn't that stupid – Estella supposed that the blond Slytherin was probably on his way to meet his mother. Estella had heard from Harry and Tonks that the woman had been in Madame Malkin's earlier. Harry had been quite impressed with how Tonks had handled herself and made a point of pulling Estella aside and telling her that he no longer wondered how someone like Tonks had become an Auror.

"Hello, Draco." Estella made her presence known, causing the young man to spin on his heels to face her.

"Estella." Draco said coolly, not missing a beat. "What a relief. I'd heard you had gone missing."

"Missing?" Estella cocked a brow. "Why, I knew where I was the entire time! Apologies for not writing more, but I did tell you in my last letter that I would be out of reach."

"Yes, I should have thought to have someone magically seal my correspondence to you," said Draco regretfully. "Though I must say my father was quite perturbed to note I was receiving such secure mail."

"Ah yes, I had a feeling your father would be of the sort to intercept his son's mail." she fought to keep her tone light as she mentioned the man who had caged her like an animal and nearly killed her not even three months before. Drawing attention away from the two-faced aristocrat, Estella strove towards common ground. "I daresay Dumbledore was a bit put out by the gesture. I wouldn't be surprised if that nosey old git hadn't charmed all the post owls to fly via his office so that he may keep abreast of everyone's business."

"That's probably how he seems to know everything." Draco agreed darkly, seemingly unsuspecting of her actual proximity to Dumbledore at the time and under the express assumption that she had gotten an older person to charm the letter sealed on her behalf. "So, anyway, what brings you to this side of the Alley?"

"You." said Estella, not beating around the bush any longer. "I saw you in Borgin and Burke's."

"Oh?" said Draco. "You weren't looking to buy that necklace, were you? I have already put it on hold for my own purposes."

"Necklace?" Estella shook her head, no. "Why, I was more interested as to what you were doing pointing out that cabinet to your father. Surely you have enough furniture at your home?"

"You were following me?" accused Draco haughtily, the alarm on his face faintly visible at the implication that he'd been followed and he'd been none the wiser.

"Is it wrong for me to have wanted to seek you out after having spotted you on the street?" said Estella sweetly. "Surely you can understand why I had to wait for your father to leave before I could make myself known! He and I did not part on very good terms last time we met."

"Oh, oh yes, of course." said Draco. Though he did not truly suspect anything, he was still on his guard. "For your information, I was after a new cabinet to store my potions supply in. You do remember my lab, don't you?"

Several years ago, on one of her few visits to Malfoy Manor with her uncle, Draco had made a point of showing off his ostentatious potions lab. Estella remembered with a fond smile how she had proceeded to find fault with the room and its ability to procure quality brews, and her uncle had backed her up. Seeing her grin, Draco took that as an enviable yes and nodded in confirmation, seemingly satisfied that his inquisitive company had bought his outright lie.

Together they walked for a bit, exchanging neutral small talk, Estella trying to get a sense for what was driving the family-proud Slytherin before she made her next move. "That cabinet doesn't go anywhere, you know," she said finally, refusing to say anything else on the subject.

"What do you know?" snapped Draco, irritated at being caught off guard and confronted with something by someone who clearly knew more than he did.

"More than you." said Estella simply, inhaling sharply as she saw her father stick his head out of the door of number 93 and seek her out. Sighing as the man spotted her and started to run towards her, wand drawn, with her godfather closely behind him, she looked at the defiant Slytherin intently. "Choose your path wisely, Draco," she said, making to leave. "I won't cover for you again."

"What?" asked Draco. Having not noticed Sirius coming up behind him, he unabashedly grabbed Estella by the arm as she tried to side step him and walk away and demanded an explanation. If the fear evident in his eyes was anything as he toyed with the idea of his carefully laid plans being interrupted by the know-all Ravenclaw, it was nothing compared to the unadulterated look of alarm that overtook him when he found himself grabbed by the scruff of the neck by an extremely ticked off ex-fugitive.

"Get. Your. Hand. Off. My. Daughter!" Sirius hissed in the boy's ear, his wand poking in the quivering Slytherin's back. Draco complied immediately and began to whimper.

Not just out of pity, but out of indignation, Estella glared at her father, put out that he should put it upon himself to storm out as he did and accost someone she was trying to have a civil conversation with.

"Was that really necessary?" she asked him as he shoved the reticent boy aside roughly, the quick-tempered Gryffindor visibly fighting against his baser instincts that screamed at him to rid the foul-blooded heir of his ability to sire children. "Draco and I were just talking!"

"It didn't look like that to me!" scowled Sirius, glaring at the boy who, despite his fear, was more afraid to turn his back on the irate father before him and run away without being dismissed.

"I'll have you know that I'm more than capable of taking care of myself!" said Estella caustically. Levelling an equally intense glare at her godfather, who had arrived beside Sirius, for good measure, she turned back towards Draco to apologise on her father's behalf. She'd hardly been able to get past the first few words in the sentence before her father had taken her by the arm firmly and pulled her away from the son of the man who had surrendered her to Voldemort's mercies.

"What do you think you were doing?" snapped Sirius, his voice wavering as the panic and adrenalin from having first lost, then found, his daughter in such company drained from him.

"We've got a problem," said Estella, intending to tell him what she had seen.

"Damn right we've got a problem!" Sirius was yelling now. In the distance, Harry and Tonks had emerged from the joke shop and had frozen in their tracks at seeing the fury on Sirius' face. Remus too, was beside himself.

"You run off without letting anyone know where you were going; good Merlin Estella do you have any idea what it did to your father and me to turn around and not find you there?" said Remus in a shaky tone whilst Sirius gripped her shoulders almost painfully, the distraught father beyond the capabilities of coherent speech. "For all we knew, someone had taken you right from under our noses!"

"I saw-" Estella tried to explain.

"I don't care if you saw Voldemort running down the street in a tutu with a sign on his back that said 'hex me, I'm stupid'!" said Sirius, finding his voice as he began to shake his daughter firmly. "What the hell were you doing with Malfoy? What if Lucius had seen you first?"

"He'd already left!" said Estella. "I'm not stupid!"

"Could have fooled us!" snorted Sirius, almost pushing her back towards the Weasley's shop as he gripped her upper arm fiercely so they could continue their conversation in private. "What were you thinking?"

"Well if you bloody well let me get two words in edgewise!" snapped Estella angrily, her temper frayed by her father's compulsive manhandling of her. "I could tell you! Now will you let go? I am quite capable of walking unassisted."

Coming up alongside her other side, Remus placed his hand firmly, but gently, on the back of her neck. Neither man was willing, at that moment, to so much as let the girl out of their collective sights. Just off to the far reaches of their peripheral vision, the two men could see Narcissa Malfoy fussing over her son, her eyes scanning the gathering crowds for answers.

"I don't appreciate that tone, Estella." said Remus levelly. "And I'm sure, neither does your father. I think we're all – your uncle too – going to be in need of a little chat when we get home."

"Who are you, my father?" snapped Estella, and, upon seeing the crushed look on her godfather's face, she instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that-"

"So you should be!" Sirius reprimanded his daughter in a low tone. Pulling her aside and veering away from the entrance of the joke shop just enough so that he could corner her against a wall away from people, Sirius held her in place with one hand splayed on her shoulder whilst his other arm he stretched out behind him, halting Remus in his tracks. Leaning in so that his face were inches from her own, he hissed at her angrily. "I am your father, Estella, and I say Remus had every right to say what he said just now. The man gave up his life to help raise you when I could not-" he held up his hand to cut Estella off as she tried to speak, "- no, Estella, I don't want to hear it. You're sorry now, I can see that; but let me tell you this, if I ever so much as hear you joke about degrading your godfather like that again… you're going to want to prefer an afternoon with Filch over what punishment I would have in store for you."

Satisfied that he had gotten his point across, Sirius let go of his daughter and stepped back slightly. Through the volatile mix of anxiety, fear, anger and worry, Sirius was completely oblivious to the effect his wrath had just had on his child, and as he turned away slightly to calm his breaths and find his resolve for everyone else's benefit, his eyes did not see her quivering lip or trembling form.

Without even realising it, his grip on his beloved daughter had been firm enough to bruise, and it was at these points on her arms that Estella was rubbing at furiously, her lip clenched between her teeth as she fought to keep a hold on her temper. Yes, temper. Estella knew better than to fear her father, for she knew that he would never do anything to harm her. That he had been so blinded by his indignation to, perhaps, come close, filled her with defiance. Losing control like that was, in the eyes of a girl who had been raised by the epitome of masked expressions himself, something of a deplorable weakness. Yet as angry as she was at her father for not even taking the time to listen to her before starting on his tirade and provoking her so, she was doubly angry at herself for being the cause of her father's weakness. That he could abandon all reason like that to come after her the way he did was a liability. Both he, and, to a certain extent, her godfather too, had been entirely oblivious to the crowd around them as they stuck into the wayward teen and it infuriated Estella to think that they could be careless enough to let their guard down like that. She also took offence at how self-righteously authoritative they could be when it had taken them how long exactly to turn their attentions away from their adoring admirers to even notice she was gone? If the men had been keeping an eye on their surroundings instead of indulging the Weasley twins their full attention, she wouldn't have been the only one to see the Malfoy men scurrying down Diagon Alley like the cockroaches caught in sunlight that they were.

"We'll talk more about this when we get home." her father promised her, his voice a little calmer now as he reached out to grab her arm again, this time to guide her a little bit more sedately towards the others.

Sick of being manhandled, Estella shrugged her arm out of her father's grip and stood her ground. "To hell we will!" she snapped. It was her turn to showcase just how much of her father's temper she had inherited. "I was only trying to help, and you make it sound like I turned in my wand to Voldemort and dared him to do his best!" her hand flew to her pendant as she made her decision. "Last time I checked, Dad, it wasn't me who needed rescuing from my own stupidity!" – she was, of course, referring to Sirius' fall during the full moon – "I've been in Voldemort's company twice now, and both times I got away without any help from the likes of you! I am more than capable of handling Draco Malfoy." Sirius could only gape at the blunt accuracy of his daughter's words as she went on. "If this is how you're going to act every time I follow my intuition and try to do something that will help us beat the Dark Lord, then you can bloody well fight this goddamn war on your own. I've had enough!"

Then, before Sirius could even realise what was happening, Estella wrapped her hand around her pendant, muttered an inaudible word, and vanished.


To make matters worse for the astonished father and bewildered werewolf as they stared at the spot their beloved girl had last stood, their earlier disturbance had lured the attentions of one Molly Weasley. The overprotective mother-hen had only caught the part of the confrontation where Sirius was being physically intimidating over his daughter. With that image burned clean in her mind, she did not hesitate to give the remorseful Animagus a thorough chewing out. After losing his temper yet again and almost pulling his wand on the interfering woman, Sirius had to be literally dragged away by Remus.

"Come on," he said, pulling the simmering man towards the closest watering hole. "Tonks is going to take Harry and head back to headquarters with Molly and the kids. Estella's undoubtedly there now cooling off in her room, so what's say we go drown our sorrows in a bottle of Fire Whiskey before we have to head on back ourselves and face the music, hmmm?"

"Oh sure, great idea, Moony." drawled Sirius, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Roll up drunk, that'd really go over well."

"I didn't say we had to go drink to get plastered," said Remus shortly. "But I don't know about you, but I could go at least two rounds to get my heartbeat back down to a steady rhythm."

"A calming draught would do that just as effectively," said Sirius distractedly, both men able to picture Estella saying such a thing to them if she were there.

"Ah, yes." nodded Remus. "But that's hardly as satisfying, is it? Now come on."

The Leaky Cauldron was, they were quick to note, empty for the first time since before James and Lily had died. Only Tom, the landlord, wizened and toothless, remained of the old crowd. He looked up hopefully as they entered, his face lighting up as the weary men made themselves comfortable on stools at the far end of the bar and beckoned him over. Ordering several shots of Ogden's finest and a pint of Butterbeer to chase it with, the man sat in companionable silence as they waited for their drinks.

"What have I done?" asked Sirius, his hands compulsively reaching for the bowl of peanuts that sat on the bar; though he pulled his hand back at the last moment for there was no telling just how long those nuts had been sitting out for. "You heard her, Moony, she probably hates me."

"Don't assume anything, Sirius." said Remus, though even a deaf man would have been able to hear the doubt in his tone. "You'll only make an ass of you and me."

"That's so old, old man," quipped Sirius, throwing caution to the wind and picking out some peanuts anyway.

"For what it's worth," said Remus hesitantly. "Thanks for sticking up for me like that. I'm so used to being the one to take the hard line with her, I sometimes forget that you're here to do that now. You'd tell me if I were stepping on your toes, though, wouldn't you?"

Sirius nodded half-heartedly, his mind elsewhere. "I was too hard on her," admitted Sirius. "I shouldn't have leapt down her throat like that. I was just so… so… so…"

"Scared?" supplied Remus.

Sirius nodded and buried his head in his hands. His next words were muffled. "What do you think possessed her to go after Malfoy like that?" he asked. Scrubbing at his face irritably, he looked to his friend for answers. "Surely she knew we would worry?"

"That's something we're going to have to ask her when we get back." shrugged Remus, nodding his acknowledgement to Tom as he wordlessly plonked their drinks down in front of them before granting them some privacy once more. Taking a long sip from his Butterbeer, he huffed. "I never thought I'd catch myself saying it, but I'm thinking it's probably a good thing the kids are heading back to school in the morning."

Slamming back his Fire Whiskey determinedly, Sirius washed it down with half his glass of Butterbeer before wiping the froth from his face with his sleeve and looking at his friend miserably. "For Merlin's sake, Moony, don't remind me." said Sirius, reaching for some more nuts. "I don't want to pack my kid off on the train with this hanging between us."

"I know you don't, Sirius," said Remus sombrely. "I don't want that anymore than you do. We'll sort it out when we get back, I know we will."

"Like we will even get up the stairs before some do-good Order member hexes us and drags us into the kitchen for a emergency meeting." groaned Sirius, both wanting to rush back to headquarters to be with his daughter and simultaneously wanting to get as far away from his parents' former home as possible.

"I'm sure they'll indulge us this once," said Remus, the unspoken reality of the Order members not wanting a family to be divided upon parting anymore than they did themselves. In instances of war it was always a possibility when parents packed their children off to school for the term, it could be the last time they saw each other. Almost everyone in the Marauder's graduating class had lost someone close to them – a parent, grandparent, aunt or uncle – during their time at Hogwarts and had experienced the dreaded summons to the Headmaster's office to hear the news. Yes, Dumbledore would be only too willing to permit them time to sort things out with Estella before seeing to anything else. If they were lucky, they'd get away from having to answer to the Order until after the children were safely on the train and on their way.


No sooner had Estella arrived in her bedroom at Grimmauld Place, was she greeted by an enthusiastic house elf.

"Mistress is home at last!" Kreacher bowed lowly at her feet, the sneaky elf having been able to detect the close proximity of one of the house's heirs. "Horrible blood traitors and half-bloods in the noble house of Black, Mistress! They is been trying to tell Kreacher what to do!"

"Now, now, Kreacher." said Estella condescendingly. "You know I cannot do anything about orders my father gives you. If he asked you to follow the orders of his guests, I can only hope for your sake that you complied."

"Oh yes, Mistress." Kreacher nodded furiously. "Kreacher is been doing what he is being told, but Kreacher did not do it well like he would for his Mistress."

"Of course not, Kreacher." Estella rolled her eyes. "Now, is there any particular reason why you came into my room, Kreacher?"

The bug-headed house elf tugged at his raggedly scrap of clothing and started punching himself hard on the chest. "Kreacher is sorry, Mistress. Kreacher came only to greet Mistress. Kreacher is bad elf for not waiting until good Mistress be calling for him! Kreacher be asking for his punishment gladly."

"Oh give it a rest, Kreacher," snapped Estella. In some strange, perverse way, she was almost endeared by the house elf's weird little fixation. "It's a good thing you came. Can you tell me who is here?"

"The meddling old coot who is leaving sticky fingers all over Mistress' fine silver is being in the study with his friend." Kreacher told her, and Estella could not help but think of what Dumbledore's own mother had done when the lemon drop-obsessed sweet tooth had been young. Images of a three-foot tall wizard running around on a sugar high expressly came to mind, but Estella found she was more amused by the image of Dumbledore without a beard more than anything else. "Kreacher is sorry but he is not knowing who Dumbledore's friend is. Kreacher is suspecting Mistress knows him. They is saying your name, Mistress. Kreacher is not knowing what they is planning for you Mistress. Kreacher could not get through the wards."

Losing interest in finding out whom else was in the house, Estella's attention was immediately drawn to the revelation that Dumbledore was currently in residence, conducting a private meeting with someone in the study, like he owned the place. Emptying her pockets of her shrunken goods – she would have to find someone to enlarge them for her later – Estella deposited Skunk in his new basket and crossed the room to the door.

"Take me to them, Kreacher." she said fearlessly. "I want that man to see that he cannot get away with talking about me behind my back in this, the noble house of Black!"

"Kreacher is honoured to stand by Mistress' side!" the house elf squeaked, pulling himself up to his full height, leading the way with an air of importance. Reaching the study door, the house elf stopped. "Kreacher is not able to open the door for Mistress. The wizard that is vexing Mistress so is locking it with his magic behind Kreacher."

Smirking, Estella closed her eyes in concentration and placed her hand on the door knob. She would be damned if she knocked on the door in her family's home when she was the only member of said family present. To her surprise, Dumbledore's magic put up no resistance to her force of will against the wards, and the door swung open. Having evidently felt when his wards were torn down, Dumbledore had stood and faced the door, anticipating her arrival.

"Why good afternoon, Estella." said Dumbledore congenially. "We were just talking about you! Why won't you join us?"

The 'us' Dumbledore was referring to, as Estella came to see as she moved further into the room, was none other than Benson Ollerton.

"Hello, Miss Black!" Benson stood quickly – well as quickly as he could since he still relied rather heavily on a cane after his encounter with Lucius Malfoy three months previously. His recovery had been long and painful, and had come precariously close to dying several times.

Shortly after the events of the third task, Estella had written to the man whose identity had been stolen for the purpose of luring her out of the school and apologised for being the reason Lucius Malfoy sought him out. Benson, in turn, had written back equally apologetic for being caught unaware by the blond Slytherin and not being able to warn them in time of the impostor. A short, polite exchange of correspondence had followed in the weeks prior to Estella's relocation to Order Headquarters, and so, had it not been for the suspicious circumstances, Estella would have been quite pleased with the company. Instead, she accepted his outstretched hand stiffly and looked at the headmaster in suspicion.

Benson, meanwhile, was completely affable and unaffected by her wariness. "So nice to see you again! I cannot thank you enough for your kind letters. It has been ever so long since anyone has written to me so candidly." he paused, and someone Estella just knew the old man were thinking of his late daughter. "I trust you had a nice holiday?"

"It was agreeable, Mr Ollerton." said Estella stiffly, her eyes not leaving the headmaster. "You are well?"

"Never better!" said Benson. "And please, call me Benson. If I may call you Estella?"

She nodded. Seeing her eyes on him, Dumbledore offered an explanation.

"Benson and I have just been discussing an exciting business proposal," said Albus. "In fact, your timing could not have been better."

"Oh, let me guess," said Estella dryly, "you want brooms for the Order and you want my help?"

Dumbledore clasped his hands together happily, relieved that he would not have to explain things in detail. Assuming that the girl before him would be jumping through hoops at the opportunity to be helping him with his plans, he began to tell her how things would work.

"I've taken the liberty of speaking to your teachers and clearing some time on your school schedule," said the Headmaster. "Benson has so kindly offered to provide any raw materials you require, and it goes without saying that you have Hogwarts facilities at your disposal."

"Wait a minute," said Estella firmly, wagging her finger at the older of the two men. "How dare you just assume that I would go along with this! I've just had my head chewed off because I tried to involve myself in a grown up's job; I don't need this right now."

"I can assure you that your father will be quite agreeable with your decision to cooperate." said Dumbledore. "When I mentioned it to him last week he was quite proud of the fact that you would be able to contribute to our effort in such a significant way. With customised brooms at our disposal, you could be saving lives!"

"Wait, you've spoken to my father about this?" Estella let the question hang as her eyes darkened. How could her father make these sort of decisions for her without discussing them with her first? She was sure they were over that now. Turning towards the confused looking businessman, Estella frowned apologetically. "I'm sorry Mr Ollerton – Benson – but I am afraid the headmaster has called you out here under a misapprehension."

"Why don't you want to do it?" Dumbledore demanded, the old wizard finding himself in the position where he's just wasted the time of a close personal friend and not liking the feeling one bit.

"Why should I?" asked Estella. "With all due respect, Professor, I don't answer to you – outside school, that is – and you can't make me."

"Why, I would have thought any young witch such as you would be jumping at the opportunity to actively help her loved ones win the war against Voldemort." Albus frowned, not entirely comfortable at being confronted with a child he could not predict. "By no means are we here to coerce you to do anything you do not want to do; I am merely afraid that I was rather erroneous in my assumption that you would want to save lives…"

"Don't even try playing that card with me, Headmaster." said Estella coolly. "My uncle taught me better than to follow in his stead. If the skies were to be a danger to your precious Order Members, then send them on foot. Don't hold it over me, because it won't work."

"Very well." said Dumbledore, assuming a chair behind Estella's grandmother's desk and flexing his fingers into a steeple below his chin. "What will it take to get your assistance on this matter?"

Rising herself to her full height, Estella considered her options. She could either hold out on the headmaster out of principle, and then somewhere down the line the blundering old coot could send her father and godfather into aerial battle on ordinary brooms that could get them killed, or she could name her price. Thinking of how much Ravenclaws valued knowledge over almost all else, Estella smirked smugly.

"You agree that what you are asking of me is far and beyond what any child should be called upon to do?" she said slyly.

"Why yes." said Albus, falling neatly into her trap. "I imagine I would not ask this of most adults."

"So you agree that you are bestowing me with a very grown up responsibility?" she sought clarification.

Nodding, the wizened old man smiled encouragingly. "And I have every faith you will be able to handle it admirably."

"Excellent," said Estella, her smile resembling that of a cat who had just caught the canary. "Now, for my conditions…"

END CHAPTER: UNUSUAL WELCOMES

NEXT CHAPTER: UNUSUAL REQUESTS

DUE: 13th December

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