So. . . right. Well I can say that no, I didn't fall off the face of the planet. I was not in a coma. I wasn't kidnapped or in hospital. I suppose any of those would be good excuses as to why I have taken forever to update my story. Damn, since October? Truth is, I really don't have a great reason. Just the ususal shit. Work is both busy and not. Unfortunately it is also communal, so I can't really work on it much there. I work 10-11 hrs a day and while I could come home and write . . . well I don't. My only good excuse covers only the last 4 weeks (annual shut down, 14 hr days, worked every single day including weekends) so . . . yeah.

Thank you for everyone who commented. Especially those who kept reminding me to continue on with the story. For the most part I get wonderful reviews and compliments and critiques (a few bad eggs slip in but meh.) I do appreciate everything. Feel free to write questions or critique. Some I may actually be able to answer.

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When Harry looked up there was a house in the empty plot. Like the houses to its sides it was tall and skinny, as with most houses in London. There all the similarities end. Instead of the pleasant white and brick outside the neighborhood had, Grimmuald place was painted a dark grey. Or perhaps it had been the same color but time had darkened it that way. There was a deep sense of foreboding that came from the townhouse. Harry faltered in his step for just a moment. He allowed Moody to stalk past him, taking the lead into the house. Arthur laid a hand on his shoulder and pushed him forward.

Entering the old house was like entering an old horror movie. Harry immediately felt like the lost ingénue who had stumbled out of the forest into the manor of a serial killer. There only light that came on was a single candle that was on the wall. The old candle holders where still there but they were dripping with old wax from candles that had long since burnt out. The shadows flickered over the dingy hallway. The whole place screamed of dying opulence. Antique rugs covered the floor but they were stained grey from dust and dirt. The wall was covered in expensive paper but it was tearing off and fell in large curls. The musty smell was overwhelming and Harry had to resist the urge to cough. He jumped when a loud clattering broke the silence of the room. He looked back to notice Tonks sheepishly putting back a large piece of furniture that looked suspiciously like the hallowed out, malformed leg of a troll.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" A pair of curtains he hadn't noticed flew open, revealing the ugly visage of a woman. Harry flinched as she continued to bellow, pressing his hands to his ears instinctively. "YOU FILTHY MUDBLOODS. YOU TAINT MY HOUSE. YOU SHOULD ALL DIE!" Harry didn't know what to do but apparently Moody did. With an annoyed growl he swished his wand and the curtains closed, muffling the screams. With a grunt he poked his wand once more at the portrait and the muffled tones fell completely silent. Suddenly a door burst open and the area was flooded with light and noise.

"Harry!" Came the joyous shout as Hermione threw herself in his arms. Harry grunted but returned the hug happily. A large group of people surged out of what Harry just saw was a kitchen. Hermione was still hanging off of him. Ron and the twins followed quickly afterwards, the twins taking the opportunity to jump on them both. Ron stood back, still a little timid after their problems but he was smiling. The voices overlapped as they all chatted to him and through him. Each one wanted to tell a story, ask him how his trip was, beg his forgiveness, complimenting his new cloths, or ask if he had eaten. Harry found himself unable to answer, instead just smiling as they lead him into the kitchen.

There were even more people in the kitchen, most who Harry knew. Mrs. Weasley was a whirl wind of red hair and doting affection. She was all but running around the dining room, dishes, cutlery and food bowls following diligently behind her. She was snatching them out of the air and placing them on the table, all while doing her best to admonish or pester everyone in the room.

"Fred, George! Move those things from the table, they are in the way. If any of them blow up there will be a lot of trouble coming your way! Arthur, what took you so long? I was expecting you back thirty minutes ago. The food is nearly cold now! Ginny! Put that magazine down, I swear girl what is in there that is so interesting? Remus you will be staying for dinner right? You look exhausted and you need a good warm meal. Harry! So wonderful to see you dear. Good lord you are still as skinny as ever. Well come and sit. It's almost time to eat!" She stopped her typhoon of motherly tutting to sweep Harry into a big hug. Just as soon as it was over she was off, waving her spatula at a group of adults that Harry didn't recognize. Off in another corner Harry saw Remus talking in a hushed tone with Head Auror Kingsley. Harry waved at him and was happy to see that he waved back. There was another larger group of about five people that were sitting at the end of the table, heads bent so that they could talk quietly. Harry didn't recognize any of the. Arthur approached the amicably but spoke in the same soft tone, obviously not looking to be overheard. Harry wanted to strain an ear so he could see what they were being so secretive about but they were quickly shooed by Mrs. Weasley, who flicked them away with a tea towel to the fire place.

"How was your uncles house Harry? Was it horrible?" Hermione badgered after Harry sat down at the table.

"Yeah Harry . . ."

"Do we need to go . . ."

"And remind him why . . ."

"You don't mess with wizards?" Fred and George piled in next to him, leaning on his shoulder so they could loom close to his face.

"We have more sweets . . ."

"That need new testers."

"These ones are . . ."

"Even more interesting." They wiggled their eyebrows in synch. Harry flinched as he remembered watching his cousins' tongue swell until it was three foot long. He was glad that he was not home this summer to try and deal with the consequences of that.

"No its fine." Harry laughed, shoving one of the twins away from his face. "Nah, the summer was really boring." Harry lied. "Mostly my uncle just ignored me. I worked on homework and did some gardening. Read some of the books I had. I'm glad to be back. It'll be better than sitting alone in my room." He said it with a wry smile and everyone chuckled.

"I'm glad you are here too Harry." Hermione said. "At least you would be willing to study with me. Everyone here has been avoiding the library like it's the plague."

"Oi! If you want to risk getting bit by a doxy to get a book go right ahead. I'm not risking life and limb so that I can do homework." Ron protested.

"Bitten by doxies?" Harry questioned.

"Yes. This house had been abandoned for a long time. So there are all types of creatures and insects and things that you have to be careful of." Hermione explained.

"What is this place?" Harry queried.

"The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black." A deep voice recited from the door way. Sirius was leaning against the doorjamb. He was slightly sneering as if the taste of the words left a sour note on his tongue. Harry perked up immediately at the sight of his godfather. But he stopped himself from jumping up when he remembered the note that they had ended their last conversation on. He felt nervous looking at the man. Sirius didn't look mad. For a few moments they stared at each other before Sirius made the first move. He strode over and ruffled Harry's hair. "It's nice to see you Prongslet. Welcome to my home." It seemed that he was going to ignore whatever bad blood might've been there.

Snape probably would have said that it was unhealthy to just ignore something like that. Harry, though, had no interest in starting something up right now. If he wasn't going to say anything, Harry wouldn't either.

"This is really your home?"

"Yes. Though it did look a lot better back when I lived here. Though it has been over twenty years since I have been here you see. I got kicked out. Bit of a black sheep of the family because I didn't hate muggleborns. After mum died I inherited the house but I was a bit busy being locked up to do repairs. Only the old house elf Kreacher was here. And he's so old that he is about to keel over and crazy to boot, so he didn't do a good job maintaining it." Sirius explained, taking a seat across from Harry and ignoring the angry tut from Hermione. He looked a lot better than the last time that Harry had seen him. Granted, the last time he had seen him was when he was flying away on the back of a hippogriff while escaping from jail. His hair was no longer wild a greasy, instead falling in soft waves around his face. He no longer looked sunken and sallow. Definitely pale but not the sickly pallor of someone who had been living on rats and escaping dementors. Harry was happy to see that. While he was not happy with the way that he had insulted Snape, and even more unhappy to hear that he had been a bully in his younger years, he still had fond feelings for the man. He would still be the man who saved his life. His godfather and friend of his parents. The last tie to a potentially happy life. Harry wondered what he should say in response but was happily interrupted by the Weasley matriarch.

"Everybody sit down!" Mrs. Weasley bellowed. "Dinner is ready."

Dinner turned out to be a rowdy affair. All of the Weasleys, Hermione, Remus and all of those who had picked him up remained to eat. People had to shout to speak over all of the conversations around them, only causing that conversation to get louder to compensate. Sirius was telling stories of pranks that he pulled back in the day, nudging Remus the entire way through. Harry couldn't help but notice that the stories conspicuously never mentioned a certain potions professor. Remus would pipe in to correct over exaggerations both in the breadth of the pranks as well as the subsequent punishments. The twins were hell bent on making sure that dinner was not a safe affair and random pranks would go off, normally with a shower of sparks or large amount of smoke, randomly throughout. People would suddenly find themselves with different color hair (which didn't bother Tonks in the slightest) or floating and unable to sink back to the ground or singing the national anthem in a high pitched voice. Tonks turned out to be a lot of fun. She would regale them with stories of working as an auror, shifting her face to make the different characters of her tales. When that became a little dull she would change her face into weird and wonderful combinations. Harry had to go through the lecture of what a metamorphagus was. Well, Tonks just told him that she could change her body, Hermione was the one who gave the lecture. Eventually dinner wound down. Stuffed full of dinner and dessert all of the children were shooed away. Harry was led upstairs to his room that he was going to be sharing with Ron.

"Hermione. . ." Harry started. The two of them had been left alone momentarily. The twins had left to get a deck of cards and Ron had gone with them to make sure that there were no pranks coming back. Ginny had left to go and put on her pajamas. "What is everyone doing here?"

"It's something called the Order of the Pheonix." Hermione answered. "It was the group that fought against He Who Must Not Be Named in the first war. Dumbledore started the group and since he is back he revived it. Sirius offered up his house because everyone thinks that it is abandoned."

"A group to fight Voldemort . . . and you didn't think to tell me about this?" Harry growled, suddenly angry. Of all the people who should know about this it was him! He was the one that Voldemort was trying to kill. You would think that he would be the first one who you would tell.

"I tried!' Hermione immediately replied, raising her hands in a placating gesture. "I tried to write you a dozen times to explain. I didn't think it was fair that they just left you at your relatives' house and didn't even tell you that they were trying to think up plans."

"So what stopped you?" Harry's tone was accusatory. Sending an owl would not have been that hard.

"Because Headmaster Dumbledore swore me to secrecy. Before I could come here he made me sign a bunch of things that promised I wouldn't tell anyone who didn't already know about the Order. I didn't realize that he hadn't told you about it until I started to try and send you a letter. Every time I tried to write you about it the paper would literally catch on fire. I even tried to do it without explicitly saying it and still I couldn't find a way to write it down on paper. After that I knew that there was no way that I was going to be able to tell you about it before you go there. I really did try, you have to believe me." She begged, obviously upset at being thought to have been keeping secrets from him. Harry let out a sigh, sitting heavily on the bed.

"I'm sorry, I believe you." And he really did. He was upset at the thought that Hermione had been keeping secrets from him. However, she was one of the few who did not seem interested in keeping him uninformed. "Thank you for at least trying to let me know. I just don't like the idea of people keeping secrets from me, even if their intention is to try and save my life." Harry huffed unhappily.

"I understand. I wouldn't like not knowing either. That's why I didn't even think about it before I signed that form. I probably shouldn't have done that." She bit her lip in consideration.

"Yeah that could get you in trouble one day." He said wryly. If there was anyone who would end up getting into trouble due to their pursuit of knowledge it would be Hermione. Just because someone is offering information does not mean that it is with good intentions. He shuddered as he remembered falling into that trap with Riddle's diary. Well, I guess he was the pot calling the kettle black on that one.

"By the way." Hermione started, switching the direction of the conversation. "What happened with those dementors?"

"What dementors?" Harry pretended to be confused. He remembered reading the newspaper articles about them and the way that Mr. Dawsen and Professor Snape reacted to the news. He was surprised anyone else had recognized that it was near his neighborhood. However, he was supposed to have spent the summer without the Prophet so he faked that he had never even heard of the story.

"They found a couple of dementors roaming around near where your uncle's house is. The people here thought that they may have come for you, since you are the only wizard around. I'm not sure. I guess it could've been a fluke. I didn't know if you had felt them or anything, because you are so sensitive to them." She explained.

"Really?" He tried to act surprised. It sounded tinny to his ears but Hermione didn't seem to catch it. "Well that's terrifying to think about. I didn't even know they were there. Holy shit."

"Well I guess that is a good thing that you didn't." She said, sitting on the bed next to him. "I couldn't imagine having to face dementors like that alone. You might not have even had your wand on you!"

"I don't even want to think about that. Damn. I'm glad that I didn't know. I have had enough experience with dementors to last a life time." Harry grumbled.

"I agree." Hermione concurred with a sharp head nod. Their conversation was cut short when the twins came barreling back into the room. After that they didn't really talk about Harry's summer, obviously deeming that his summary was sufficiently boring to not ask him about anything else. Instead they were telling Harry about the adventures they were having here. Mostly, they had been tasked with cleaning out rooms. That mean a lot of sweeping, scrubbing and spraying. There were a few rooms that had been blocked off because they were either infested with some sort of magical pest or a dark artifact had been found.

Fred, or maybe George, informed Harry that there were many magical artefacts laying around. Apparently the Blacks had been accruing a lot over the years, most of them had dark magic. The only problem George, or Fred, bemoaned was that neither of them had actually managed to sneak one out yet. Sure they had managed to get a few past their mother just fine. However, before they were safely back in their room Remus would always be standing there, arms crossed and an expectant look on his face.

Hermione was happy enough with the library. The Blacks, like many aristocrats, seemed to revel in the idea of looking intelligent and collecting rare books. Just the idea, Hermione bemoaned. Apparently some of the books had never really been opened. Some were even still bound. She had been eager to run through every book that was in the library. However, she had been stopped by the adults. Now if there was a book she wanted to read she had to tell someone. She wasn't even allowed to touch any of them before an adult had run it over with their wand to make sure it wasn't cursed. Harry wondered why anyone would want to live in a house where random objects were cursed with dark magic.

When Harry went to sleep that night he was still angry at the idea that they had not told him anything. It seemed like a running pattern. Happened again and again. Harry finding out about meeting and plans that involved him well after things were already in motion. All that left him was sitting in the rubble and hoping that nothing will land on him. Worst yet, they still hadn't told him anything. Hermione was the one who actually gave him details. He had tried to talk to the others about it but they knew next to nothing. They knew some of the people that were part of it because they had seen them coming and going. Apparently any time they have a meeting the kids are sent off to do some type of chore and the room is then magically warded so that no one can listen in. That, Harry grumbled in his head, was not a good sign for the future.