I did say I was going to try to update in a reasonable time frame, so here's chapter twelve. Albus's POV has been awful to write lately, but I think it'll be easier after this one.

Thanks to LunaScamander17 and Rs223 for reviewing!

Disclaimer-I don't own Harry Potter, or any affiliated characters

Some lines were taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

1995

Rose didn't know where she was. One moment she had been arguing with her aunt in the basement, and now she was-wherever this place happened to be. It was dreary and dim here, with a rich but dusty carpet under her feet and a towering chandelier above her. The walls had elaborately carved wood paneling covering them, a far cry from the refurbished farmhouse she lived in with her parents and brother.

Nervous, she drew her wand, turning around slowly. There seemed to be several ways out of the room, from a grand staircase in the front to another smaller staircase that seemed to lead to a cellar. Hallways also branched off, leading other rooms that were just as big. It seemed to be a large place, wherever she was.

A feeling of uneasiness came over her and as a precaution she drew her wand, making to turn toward the grand staircase.

"I wouldn't do that," a voice said, coming from behind her. Rose whirled around to see a pale, blond haired boy descending down the stairs, his wand pointed at her heart. "You're intruding," he continued.

She opened her mouth to assure him that this was all a big mistake, but something, possibly the wand that was coming ever closer to her face, convinced her that that wouldn't end well.

"I'm going to have to deal with you." Why was the boy still talking? The faster he tried to curse her, the faster she could retaliate and get out of here.

He flicked his wand, and Rose made to cast a shield charm, but she had underestimated him. The red jet of light hid her in the chest, and everything went dark.

"That's your mother?" Albus asked, glancing between the curtains behind which the screaming portrait hung and the man standing in front of him. His first thought was I hope it's not hereditary, but he recognized it as rude and kept it to himself. He at least had more tact than James.

"Yeah, dear old mum," the man said sarcastically. "We'd have thrown her out already, but we think she's put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back. Come on down then, before all the other portraits wake up. There aren't a lot of savory characters on these walls."

Hermione and the Weasleys seemed to see this as a dismissal from the scene, and headed down the hall. Al realized he was still standing a few steps up on the staircase, and descended all the way to follow the man down another flight to a basement kitchen.

The room was already crowded with the Order members that were staying for dinner, as well as the house's younger occupants. Albus felt a particularly acute sense of homesickness as the scene reminded him of the multiple gatherings his large family had every year, full of idle chatter and good food.

The basement was noticeably more gloomy than the parties at home. The conversation was for the most part the opposite of idle, from what Al could tell from the faces of the people sitting at the long table. A haze of some type of smoke hung in the air, and bits of parchment were spread out over the table, covered in ink drawings and words that he was too far away to make out.

He noticed his gran-No, Mrs. Weasley, nudging a balding man with ginger colored hair and glasses sitting at the edge of the table. The man looked very similar to his grandfather.

"Harry!" Arthur Weasley said, standing up at shaking his hand. "Good to see you, good to see you. And Sirius, glad you've gotten the portrait quiet again. We've got to fix that, haven't we?"

"This house is so old, we've got to fix everything," presumably Sirius said from behind Albus, voice colored with distaste. "Honestly, I'd prefer we burn it, but it's the only way I can be helpful to the Order right now." Albus was so surprised by the man's-Sirius's identity that he didn't even realize why the man's mother had been hanging on the wall. Sirius Black. His father's godfather and his paternal grandfather's best friend. That's why he had seemed like someone from an old photo-he was one of the dead guys in his grandparent's wedding pictures, standing among all of the other dead guys who had been in attendance.

"You alright there, Harry?" Sirius asked, noticing that Albus wasn't paying attention.

"Fine," Al replied, aware that he had spoken to fast for it to seem natural. If he was telling the truth, he wasn't fine, was he?

"Sit down," Mr. Weasley suggested. "Didn't you fly all the way from Surrey? You must be starving."

"We did," Tonks said, stepping into the conversation next to Albus. "Moody almost had us fly to Iceland, as cold as it was."

"Constant vigilance," Sirius replied with a grin. Tonks huffed and rolled her eyes, laughing at the joke. "Go on then Harry," he continued. "Sit down. Molly's almost got dinner ready, I think…"

The table had been cleared of it's mess from before, and now people were talking to each other in strained, though amicable tones. Ron and Hermione seemed to be having an argument over which plates to use as they set the table. Unsure of what to do, Al found himself sitting next a pile of rags and Sirius, who had come to join him.

"Some'n say m' name?" the pile of rags mumbled, sleep still clinging to it's-his? voice. "I 'gree with Sirius…"

"The meeting's over, Mundungus," Sirius said, as if this was normal behavior for what Albus now realized was a man. "Harry's here."

"Harry?" The drowsiness began to fade from the man's eyes and he frowned as if he was trying to remember something. "Owe you an apology, don' I?"

"Do you?" Al replied, shutting his mouth immediately as both Mundungus and Sirius looked rather confused. "I mean, I s'pose it's alright."

The man nodded in response and pulled out a pipe, lighting it with his wand and sticking it in his mouth. Mrs. Weasley's voice came from the kitchen. "Mundungus, I told you to stop smoking that pipe!" With a sigh, the metal thing was returned to his pocket.

After a small incident in which Fred and George almost impaled Sirius with a few knives as they were trying to levitate them onto the table, dinner started. The food was good, so Albus used stuffing himself as an excuse to keep from talking to anyone. Tonks was morphing her nose into different shapes, much to the amusement of Ginny and Hermione, who called out requests for their apparent favorites, while Bill and Lupin appeared to be having a serious conversation about goblins.

Al tried to ignore the confused looks that Sirius was throwing in his direction as he continued to be silent, and out of character, apparently. He should try to start up a conversation, but he wasn't sure how well his father knew Sirius at this point and he didn't want to arouse suspicion with any foreknowledge.

"Time for bed, I think," said Albus's gran, smiling at the others seated at the table, with the exception of Mundungus, who received a rather cold glare.

Mrs. Weasley, not Gran, he reminded himself in a stern voice.

"Not just yet, Molly," Sirius said, turning to look at Albus. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

Al was suddenly glad that his father had never been threatened by the name, as almost everyone else in the room flinched but he and Sirius.

In all honesty, he had no idea how to respond. He didn't need to know much more about the situation with Voldemort than he already did. This might have been the only advantage of actually paying attention in History of Magic, which was in fact a fascinating subject once you got past the teacher. It couldn't hurt to know more, could it?

"I…" Albus paused, reconsidered, and then continued. "I was a bit overwhelmed. Besides, I didn't think you'd tell me, anyway."

This seemed to be an acceptable answer.

"Sirius," Mrs. Weasley said in warning. "He's not of age. Too young to be in the Order."

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions? Harry's been trapped in that muggle house for months. He's got the right to know about what's been happen-"

He was interrupted by Fred and George also demanding information. Albus kept his mouth shut, casting appropriate looks of pity and Ron, Hermione, and Ginny as they were ussured from the room by order of Mrs. Weasley.

For the most part of the argument between his gran and Sirius, Albus zoned out. He understood the importance of learning what he ought to know at this point in time, but he also didn't want to think about what was going to happen to these people. The longer he was stuck in 1995 the longer third year History of Magic was coming back to him. Sirius was going to be dead in a few months, something that had just struck him. Soon Mrs. Weasley was only going to have five sons. What was he doing just sitting here? Shouldn't he tell them?

Don't be ridiculous. Al shook himself out of his stupor just as his gran exclaimed, "He's not James, Sirius!"

"I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly," said Sirius coldly.

"I'm not sure you are!" said Mrs. Weasley. "Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"

"What's wrong with that?" Al cut in, thinking of his Uncle George. Freddy, his son, might not be his twin, but the two were almost inseparable during the holidays anyway. Albus assumed that Sirius and James had been the same way. If he-well, Harry, could be any solace then why not?

"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!" said Mrs. Weasley, still sending an angry glare at Sirius. "You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"

Sirius protested again, and the argument continued. Albus at the rest of the table watched the two, wary of intervening for fear of Molly's vicious glare or Sirius's tormented anger.

Finally Lupin stood up. "Personally," he said, voice quiet and agreeable. "I think it better that Harry gets the facts-not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture-from us, rather than a garbled version from… others."

Mrs. Weasley seemed very disappointed with this outcome, but she saw that she had been overruled and sat down rather ruefully. Sirius's mouth curled into a slight smirk, but he still looked a little out of sorts after the fight.

There was a long silence before Sirius spoke again. "Okay, Harry… what do you want to know?"

Albus considered this. He wasn't sure what exactly he wanted to know. Each question could have several answers, few of them the information that he needed. He was no good at prompting people with clever wordings the way Lily was-Al's forte was messing with things, not people. Plus, drowsiness was starting to wear at him. It had to be nearing nine o'clock, several hours since the rest of the Order had left.

Sighing, he said, "I want to know what Voldemort's doing. There hasn't been much in the papers…" That would be on the front page, wouldn't it? Certainly there hadn't been anything on the newspaper he'd seen before he'd been collected by the order.

"No, there wouldn't be," Sirius said. "The Ministry's covering it up."

"What's the Order doing to help?" After a moments thought toward the ridiculous self-sacrificing tendencies his mother liked to scold his father for, Albus added, "And how can I help?"

"You can't," Mrs. Weasley cut in. "You're underage, and still at school. It's not safe."

Al waited for Sirius's protest, but none came. He turned to the man in surprise.

"It's too dangerous," Sirius said. "The Order is for of age witches and wizard only."

"And out of school," Mr. Weasley added at the twins' hopeful looks.

"As for what we're doing-" Lupin began, but he was interrupted by a chiming sound, as if someone had rung the doorbell.

Apparently, that's exactly what had happened, as Sirius stood up and frowned. "Who could that be?"

"I'll answer," Lupin said. "Sirius, sit down."

The man obliged, scowling rather petulantly and muttering something about bloody Dumbledoors. Al stifled a laugh.

A moment later, a pale faced Lupin reentered the room, followed by a very angry looking Snape. He had the whole room's attention as he stood at the head of the table. "We have a problem," he said, voice low and angry.

A knot grew in Albus's throat as Snape continued to talk.

1975

Lily was very glad to have an ally. Mcgonagall had been sympathetic during her explanation, and had even suggested a few ways to get around Lily Evans' particularly nosey professors. She was reminded of the time she and Al had transfigured a few of the newer statues in the castle to pumpkins with insults carved into them like jack-o-lanterns, getting a chewing out from Neville, but merely an amused wink from the headmistress.

It had been a long conversation, so Arithmancy was almost over when she walked in, not helped by the fact that Lily didn't usually take Arithmancy and had been forced to ask a ghost. The Bloody Baron had given her a strange look and a "Miss Evans, are you feeling alright?" before sending her on her way. Despite Alice's worries, the Arithmancy professor was satisfied with a signed note from Mcgonagall, so Lily only had to sit through about ten minutes of what felt much more like muggle maths than a class at a school of magic.

Glad to find that she had charms next, a class that she was halfway decent at, Lily walked quickly through the halls, again brushing off anyone who tried to talk to her. She was waiting for a section of the floating staircase to connect when James and crew caught up with her.

"Evans," James said, a hint of breathlessness creeping into his voice. Had he been chasing her?

Lily, still lacking confidence in her actions around her grandfather, tried to decide between asking what he wanted and telling him to go away, but instead let the words spill out of her all at once. "Do you want to go away?"

Her cheeks burned at the slip of words. James looked confused. "You okay, Lily? Am I making you flustered?" Behind him, Sirius smirked and Peter giggled. Remus was missing from the group, but since all of the boys seemed at ease, Lily could tell it wasn't a full moon. He must've had a different class this period.

"Don't call me that," she said, at least sure that that was the correct response. James wasn't even fazed.

"Evans, are you gonna tell us what prank you were pulling in the courtyard this morning?" Sirius cut in, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No," Lily replied. "I like watching you squirm when you can't figure something out." She wasn't even sure that Sirius fidgeted a lot, but even from her few brief conversations with him she'd noticed that he was particularly energetic.

Sirius, far from being offended, laughed with delight at the invitation to banter. Fortunately, he was cut off when a new section of stairs connected to the one they were currently standing on, and Lily bounded up them two at a time, leaving the boys to wait for the next to go in the other direction.

"We'll find out your prank, Lily!" Peter called from behind her. Lily rolled her eyes and continued on her way to charms.

Unfortunately it appeared that the Gryffindors had charms with the Slytherins, something Lily found out when she nearly walked into a familiar looking boy as she was making her roundabout way around the desks to get to where Alice, Mary, Marlene, and Hestia were sitting.

The stack of papers in his arms tumbled onto the floor as Lily bumped into them, accidentally slamming her elbow against his wrist and loosening his grip. Her immediate response was to whirl around and apologize, but she suppressed it, unsure of what would be normal for Lily Evans when talking to a Slytherin.

"Lily," the boy breathed, almost reverently, and Lily immediately decided that she was going to be rude. His tone made her skin itch. Snape, She realized. The boy from the picture in the bottom of her grandmother's nightstand.

"I don't like you enough for you to call me by my first name," she said, keeping her voice even. She felt confident here, spurred on by his odd reaction to her, and the way he kept his shoulders slumped and shifted his feet as he stared nervously at her. He understandably lacked the intimidating confidence that Mcgonagall exuded, and it let Lily know that she had the upper hand in the conversation.

Snape's eyes flashed with well disguised hurt, bending down to pick up his papers. Lily hoped that she was coming off as cold but not vindictive, and stiffly bent down to hand him his last sheet of parchment.

The boy was still struggling to organize the several sheets he held into one pile, so Lily waited for him to finish, eyes drifting to the paper she held. Snape's messy scribbles covered one side of the page, with one word at the top circled and underlined. Levare corpus.

She frowned at the page, confused. The rest of the writing was something about increasing the power of the spell that she couldn't decipher. She was good at coming up with the ideas for spells-actually making them was Albus's job.

"Li...Evans," Snape said, correcting himself, "could I have my paper back, please?" His tone was clipped and controlled.

Lily handed over the paper after taking another glance at the word written on top. "Do you mean Levicorpus?"

"What?"

"The spell you've got written on top. It's not Levare corpus, that's the latin translation. Levicorpus is the spell that holds you up by your ankle." Lily fought down the urge to smile, but was immediately set on edge by Snape's surprised look.

"I-" he stopped himself. "Yeah. Right. Of course." Lily swallowed, a sense of dread coming over her like a cloud. She'd messed something up. Snape would be happier if this was just because she was talking to him, right?

"Miss Evans, and Mr. Snape, if you would sit down so we could start the lesson please," said Professor Flitwick. Snape blushed violently and ducked his head to sit in the back of the large group of Slytherins. Lily took a seat next to Marlene.

Mary tapped her on the shoulder from behind. Checking to make sure Flitwick was too focused on the board to notice anything else, Lily turned around to look at her.

"Lily, what were you doing talking to Snape?" the girl whispered, glancing up at the professor to make sure he wasn't looking.

"He dropped his papers. I wasn't talking to him," Lily replied, rubbing her sweaty palms on her thighs. If Mary hadn't been three desks a way, the lie would've gone off without a hitch, but instead the other girl gave Lily a suspicious look before turning her attention back to the lesson.

Lily sighed. Snape wouldn't dare mention anything to any of the Gryffindors; she could say that. At least, they wouldn't believe him. But the last thing she needed was rumors spreading through Slytherin that Lily Evans had knowledge of spells she shouldn't. This was a mess.