Following his rousing party the night before, the young man who lived in number 11 Grimmauld Place had indulged himself in a bit of a lie-in. This allowed Harriet to finally put a face to the name as she and Mr. Weasley slowly made their way up the sidewalk. The man's eyes were bloodshot and weary as he trotted down the worn steps to his stoop, a rubbish bag fit to burst and clinking with empty bottles held loosely in his hand. From what she understood, the haggard look was not unusual for him. Members of the Order coming into the headquarters from the outside were always complaining that their neighbor was up at some ghastly hour again, drinking and playing his obnoxiously loud music.
Harriet had never heard him herself. The headquarters was soundproofed against all other buildings in the area. Nothing could come in or out, Lupin had explained, though that hadn't stopped Mrs. Weasley from griping about 11's lack of common courtesy.
The man snorted as Harriet and Mr. Weasley approached, sounding sick, before stuffing his garbage noisily into the bin on the curb. He squinted hard against the sun, using his shirt to wipe off the sweat on his forehead, and then retreated back into his building.
"Funny. Muggle systems, I mean..." Mr. Weasley commented conversationally as 11's door closed shut. "They have no way to expel it themselves so they have someone else take it away for them. I never have been able to figure out what happens to it after. One man's trash is another's treasure and all that, I suppose? Ah, well..."
Mr. Weasley checked left, right, then behind him nearly four times before he was satisfied that there were no spies or muggle stragglers in sight. Not that they would see much of anything if there were. When at least three cars had passed by and he'd finished ducking his head around the mailbox, he turned to her and asked, "You remember what the note said, Harry?"
Harriet did remember, but why had he bothered asking? It was common information to her now that - just as the thought entered her head the Black family mansion inflated in the middle of the Grimmauld complex, pushing the buildings on either side of it out of its way. Mr. Weasley stepped forward and tapped his wand calmly on the black painted door that appeared and in turn it made several loud, metallic clicks.
The two of them entered the warm foyer, shrugging off their coats and hanging them on the antique severed troll leg which served as a rack. Mrs. Weasley could be heard in the kitchen, pans rattling. "WOULD YOU GIVE IT A REST ALREADY? You're worse than the children! You've been under my feet all morning, Sirius, I'm sure they'll be back soon. Remus, tell him they'll be back soon, he doesn't listen to me - what was that? Was that the door?"
Mrs. Weasley's head popped out into the foyer seconds later, flour mixed into her hair and caked generously on her apronless dress. "You're back already? What's happened, is everything alright? I wasn't expecting you back until at least dinner! Oh-oh dear..."
"Let's not talk about it now, Molly," Mr. Weasley warned his wife gently, nudging Harriet in the direction of the stairwell. "You go up to bed, Harry. Get some rest."
Harriet slipped past them both with the intent of doing just that, but Sirius had been anxiously waiting to see her again and had already turned the corner after Mrs. Weasley. He swooped down on her, taking her head in his hands and forcing her to look deep into his eyes so he could see the extent of the damage for himself. Her face burned and she wanted nothing more than for him to let go of her, for him to not be leaning his forehead against her own like that.
She jerked away, but he merely tucked the top of her head under his chin and raised a hand to pet her hair, locking his other arm around her waist. Something horrible tried clawing its way up her throat. The entire forty-five minute journey from the Ministry to the headquarters she'd kept her composer, walking in silence without a thought deeper than the weather in her head after her outburst, but at his pity she felt ready to go off all over again.
"Dumbledore owled just after you left, of course you can stay with me." Sirius whispered to her soothingly. "You'll never have to go back to those horrible muggles again, I promise you. It'll be just the two of us, yeah? We'll be alright-"
Harriet pushed him away and he looked as though she'd snapped his heart in two. But she didn't have it in her to feel sorry about it now. "He said I could stay with you, did he?"
"Well, yes, Harry. He did," Sirius answered hesitantly, his face looking suddenly older than before. "Do you not... want... to stay with me? If you don't, I... I suppose I understand. I just thought, maybe together we-"
"I'm so relieved he gets to make all of these decisions for me. It's worked out wonderfully for me so far!" If it were for any other reason, she'd have been ecstatic to hear she'd never again return to Privet Drive, but at the thought of needing Dumbledore's permission after all this she was livid. "Go back to the Dursley's after the Tournament, protect myself from dementors because someone's not doing their job, and tell the truth about it at the hearing so he can GIVE them my wand! And now that it's broken in two I can finally live with my godfather. How generous of him to let me stay. He KNEW how important that wand was, how could he DO this-"
"I'm sure he didn't give them your wand, Harry..." Mr. Weasley attempted to reason with her, but she could hear the heat behind it and it only fueled her. "Dumbledore is a smart man who knows what he's doing. You have to trust him. And trust us."
"I did trust you, I trusted you when you said everything was going to be fine. But it wasn't, was it, and I wasn't ready! You didn't see him." Harriet's voice quaked. "He didn't even look at me!"
Or couldn't look at her.
"This is something you can't do on your own, Harry. Whatever happens, you have to work with us. You can't go off shouting at Lucius Malfoy and call him a Death Eater in front of everyone!"
His face went a classic shade of Weasley red. She'd only ever seen Ron look that way at her. "I know you were angry, but what you did today will have serious repercussions."
"Shouldn't of..." Harriet chased him into the dining room where he'd sat down in a chair to toe off his shoes. "That's so easy for you to say. Isn't it? I seem to remember you getting into a fist fight with him in Flourish and Blotts for a whole lot less!"
Mr. Weasley glanced up at her and shook his head. "As much as I'd like to hand him his arse on a platter myself, Harriet, I can't jeopardize what we're all working for here!"
"YOU'RE not the one who has to see him every night in your dreams!" Her voice was ragged by now. "I have to keep reliving that night over and over and over - I see his face, all of their faces, everywhere I go. When you've had Voldemort's wand at your throat, THEN you can tell me I'm overreacting. When you're not sitting alone, afraid of him coming, every second of the day with no one to tell you what's happening, MAYBE. But until then-"
"Harry," Mrs. Weasley came toward her with such a sad, pitying look in her eye. "All we want - all anyone here wants - is what's best for you. Arthur's trying to keep you safe, there's no telling what Lucius could have done to you for that!"
"You kept me in the dark - you drove me insane, you could have KILLED ME like that. You almost did!" Harriet felt all the sicker in her stomach thinking about the betrayal. She was beginning to shake, she knew. "If that's your way of protecting me, it's a bloody joke-"
Mrs. Weasley stood up to her full height. "Now you listen to me, Harry Potter, Dumbledore said-"
"I don't care what Dumbledore said. I would have thought you'd have said to hell with him for my sake, but I can see now that I was sadly mistaken." Her arms fell to her sides, exasperated. "It's MY life on the line, and mine to own! I'm not some bird you can trap in a cage and take turns watching to make sure something doesn't come along and eat me! Or a chess piece for you to move around however you like! You want me to trust you? Well, I don't. Not anymore. And there is NOTHING that is going to stop me from fighting back, not even this, so you better get used to it. I want to be a member of the Order. I want to be in every meeting. When I ask a question I expect it to be answered. STOP keeping things from me because you think it'll protect me-"
"The stunt you pulled at the Ministry with Lucius Malfoy is EXACTLY why we've been keeping things from you! You're not ready for that much responsibility! You're only a little girl!"
"No, no - Harriet's right. It's the Order's fault she's in this situation in the first place." There was something akin to pride in Sirius' voice as he watched her. He moved forward to place a supportive hand on her shoulder and she begrudgingly let him. "If you want to leave your children out of it and have them live in this fantasy world, that's your prerogative. But Harry has more than proven she can handle herself. Hasn't she lost enough to sit at this table?"
"Harriet IS my child! I don't expect you, of all people, to understand how we feel-"
"Really?" Sirius cut her off, shooting her a wolfish grin. "Let's check the papers for that, shall we?"
"Papers do NOT make a family! We have loved this girl as our own since she and Ron were eleven. Every Christmas, every holiday-"
"You're the only parents she's ever known," The strong smell of Lupin's special 'tea' entered the room with him, the man leaning against the doorway to the kitchen with his right leg tucked behind his left. He gave Sirius a pointed look and then turned his attention back to Mrs. Weasley. "This is hard for you, because you love her very much. It's hard for all of us. But Harry is absolutely right. We've been going about this all wrong and she has every right to be angry with us. She has every right to be here."
Mr. Weasley watching worriedly as a united front formed at either side of Harry, Remus flanking and still calmly nursing his mug. Neither with children of their own, of course, and no way to understand why he and Molly did what they did. He visibly deflated, hand coming up beneath his glasses to rub tiredly at his eyes. His wife took the look of submission as a personal attack.
"Aren't you going to say something, Arthur?!"
"Sirius, Remus, one of you will have to owl Dumbledore and make him aware of the situation..."
"Don't bother," Harriet told them coolly over Mrs. Weasley's loud cries demanding if they were all mad. "I'll tell him myself."
"That's my girl!" Sirius moved to pat her back in a congratulatory manner, but Harriet had no intention of staying long enough for him to do so. She turned on her heel as the painting of his mother began her usual spiel which shook the house, using her shrieks as well as Mrs. Wealey's as cover to lose herself down an unexplored hallway of the mansion - preferably one where no one would find her.
Before she could fully disappear, she saw a flash of red hair by the railing above her, the twins leaning over it and listening in as best they could with what looked like an ear on a string. Thankfully, they knew well enough to not come after her.
Harriet didn't know what she'd do if anyone tried.
Without her wand, what could she do?
AN: Thank you all so much for the support and encouragement! Your reviews have really helped shape this story. Feel free to let me know what you think, I try to get back to everybody!