A/N: Thank you so much for the amazing reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 32: Grimmauld Place
Rap, Rap…Rap!
An owl knocked its beak aggressively against Róisín's bedroom window, its burnt-orange eyes bright against the black night.
Róisín clambered from where she was squeezing an astronomy book; "The Black Tortoise of the North, the asterism Delphinus through a Sino-lens" into her overstuffed suitcase. She unlatched her window and the owl flew in with a whoosh of icy air and snow, dropped a note on her bed and flew out again, its pointed ear-tufts and huge wingspan disappearing into the blizzard.
The note was written in Snape's spiky lettering:
Meet me outside Greenhouse five in fifteen minutes.
Róisín rushed to gather her final things, muttering "Capacious extremis" three times until the internal dimensions of her case were large enough to fit all her books, notes, clothes, and toiletries. Lastly, she grabbed the invisibility cloak.
Dabs of fuzzy green glowed in Greenhouse five, highlighting its tall skeleton against the swirling snow. Róisín walked closer and spotted her professor's silhouette. The wind was howling too loudly to speak so she popped her head out of her cloak to grab his attention. He twitched with mild surprise and flicked his wand at her. The cloak slid off her and slipped into her case, which disappeared with a pop. He held out his hand and she tentatively took it, only realising when he rolled his eyes that he'd only been gesturing for her to come nearer. She gingerly stepped towards him and he put his arm around her back, pulling her to him gently but firmly. The ice on his robes melted against her face and dripped beneath her collar. He took her other hand and placed it against his chest, gripped her tightly to him and pop! her body was squeezed against his as though they were pushed through a tiny tube. They were spat out onto a chilly, dry, London street. There was a terrace of four story Georgian town houses in front of them.
"Memorize this," Snape instructed and handed her a scrap of paper:
The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.
Róisín whispered the words. Snape took the handwritten note and lit it on fire with a silent incantation which made flames flicker from his fingers. He dropped the blackened paper and it crumbled to ash as it fell.
"Continue concentrating."
As Róisín repeated the words to herself, a door grew in the gap between the two houses in front of them, its paint peeling around a silver number twelve so tarnished it looked black. The rest of a grimy, neglected version of the immaculate townhouses around it squeezed into existence, pushing its neighbours to the side.
Snape strode across the street and up the steps leading to the hall door as Róisín scurried to catch up with him. He didn't use the serpent knocker biting its tail, instead, he tapped the door once with his wand. It responded with a loud rattle of metallic clinks and creaked open. A waft of dust and mould escaped and Róisín had to suppress a cough.
"She's here!" a small voice exclaimed and Róisín saw a dash of movement at the end of the hall. There was a click as Snape closed the door behind them.
Gas lamps cast a tenuous glow on the grubby carpets and fading wallpaper of the long hallway. Every fixture was adorned with twisting serpents and for a moment Róisín had the horrible feeling that Snape had taken her to You-Know-Who's layer.
Her professor reached out and held her upper arm, his head dipping to meet her eyeline in the narrow space.
"Feral, breathe, you're safe here," he murmured.
"Welcome! So great to see you arrived safely," a voice with a country lilt called out. At the first syllable Snape dropped Róisín's arm and stepped back as though he had been burned.
A small, plump woman with fiery red curls wearing an apron trotted down the hall, looking bizarrely out of place to her surroundings.
"Róisín, is it? A lovely Irish name. Now, I know it's late, but if you're hungry I saved a couple of pasties for you just in case," she placed a warm, soft hand on Róisín's arm in greeting. "Of course you're welcome to some as well, Professor."
"Regrettably I can't stay," Snape said in a clipped tone which made Róisín think he didn't regret it in the slightest. "I just need a moment with Miss Feral."
"Yes of course, go ahead and use the parlour," the woman said and opened a door a little down the hall on the right. "Fred! George!" she barked, making Róisín startle, "I don't care what age you are, you're not to apparate all over the house! And in the middle of the night! Go. To. Bed!"
Róisín's eyes widened in shock as the two Weasley twins in her year slipped out of the room. One of them turned and winked at her, asking with a grin,
"Allrigh' Feral?" He looked behind her, adding, "Professor." Then, with two loud cracks, the brothers disapparated away. The woman, presumably the twin's mother, shook her head and threw her eyes up to heaven.
"Anyway, if you two need anything just give a shout," she said before heading back down the hall.
Róisín followed Snape into the parlour. The interior was in a gothic Victorian style with furnishings that were worn and tatty with age. Snape closed the door.
Róisín's cheeks burned with embarrassment.
"Do the Weasley twins know… ?" she asked. "About me? About…" she was going to say "us" but instead she said, "and about you?"
"They know that I am a spy for the Headmaster. They also know that you're a sióg, and," -a muscle in his jaw flicked- "why you're under my protection."
"So I'm not allowed to tell my closest friend, but the Weasley boys know?" Róisín snapped as her eyes welled up. She added a hasty, "sir?"
"Trust me Feral, that was not my choice," Snape said icily. "Regrettably, since they know, it is now more practical to loosen the tongue-tie in relation to them, and the others in the Order who know." Róisín wanted to suggest he remove the spell entirely, but given his steely mood she decided to stay quiet. After he had done the necessary incantation, he produced what looked like an unlabelled wine bottle from somewhere inside his robes. It was filled with a thick, black liquid. "If you experience severe symptoms in the next three weeks, drink from this. You may take up to two mouthfuls a day, no more."
Róisín took the bottle. "What potion is this, sir?"
"It's not a classified brew."
"It doesn't have a name?"
"No," Snape replied dismissively. "If your magic becomes critically unstable or you're very unwell in another way, inform a member of the Order, preferably Lupin-
"Professor Lupin's in the Order?" Róisín exclaimed. Gods, Anna's heart would melt!
"Yes," Snape said curtly. "Inform him and he will contact me when possible."
"Are the Weasley twins in the Order, sir?"
"No. Fortunately they are too young. Their parents, Arthur and Molly, are in the Order, as well as two of their older brothers."
"Charlie Weasley? Is he a member?" Róisín blurted. He had graduated Hogwarts after her second year, but while he was in school he used to help Professor Kettleburn with the care of the larger magical beasts. She could still picture his warm smile and strong arms as he gently petted the hippogriffs.
"I don't have the time to give you a recent history of the Order, Feral," Snape said coolly. "Your luggage is in a room upstairs, Mrs. Weasley will show you to it."
"Ok, sir." Sensing she had been dismissed, Róisín added, "Goodnight."
"Night, Feral."
Snape left the room, then Róisín heard,
"Snape."
"Black."
She stepped into the hallway and screamed.
There was a Death Eater in the hall. She knew every inch of his face from the thousands of posters she'd seen after he'd escaped from Azkaban. Róisín's eyes darted to Snape. He didn't look alarmed, just irritated. Róisín thought she'd stopped screaming but she could still hear a continuous high-pitch wail.
On the wall behind the infamous, mass murderer Black, there was a portrait of an old woman writhing, nails clawing at her canvas confines, her blood-shot eyes popping from their sockets, shrieking,
"SHAME of my flesh, blood traitor, banish this SCUM from the house of my fathers, this FILTHY half-breed with his mutant PET. Begone! Vile, putrid, fruit of SIN!-"
"-Shut up!" Black snapped and, with considerable force, shoved the curtains on either side of the portrait closed. He turned back to Snape and growled,
"You couldn't've mentioned me to your sióg before dropping her off, no?"
"You hadn't crossed my mind," Snape said with cool indifference. Then he addressed Róisín, keeping his dark eyes on the other man, "Feral, there's no need to be concerned about Black. He didn't kill those muggles, an old friend of his did and he was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. He's been in hiding ever since he escaped Azkaban… was it two years ago?"
"He's not a Death Eater?" Róisín asked in an uncertain whisper. She had read the twelve names of the muggles Black had purportedly murdered in Death Eaters Vol. 1. Sally Addington had died at just fifteen.
"No, luv, I'm not," Black said to her, his voice so smooth and charming that Róisín couldn't believe he was the same homicidal maniac portrayed on all those Ministry posters. He was even handsome in a rugged sort of way, tall and masculine with twinkling eyes. He glared at Snape. "Unlike your professor."
"Professor Snape's a spy," Róisín said numbly.
Black's striking grey eyes flicked back to her.
"Feral, go find your room. I want to speak with Black privately," Snape instructed, his voice menacingly quiet. Róisín went to leave and Black retorted,
"I've told you before not to give orders in my house, Snivellus."
There was a flash of movement and light shot out of Snape's brandished wand, blasting against the staircase above Black's head. With animal-like reflexes Black ducked and when he straightened his wand was pointed at Snape's chest.
"I know you aren't used to a busy schedule, Black," Snape said silkily, "but I would've imagined you capable of controlling a few children while you're here."
Róisín whipped her head back and forth between the two wizards, her heart pumping frantically.
"Get. Out. Of. My. House," Black snarled, the wand in his fist emitting angry sparks.
"It's not simply your house, Black, it is the Headquarters of the Order," Snape said softly, "and if I see another extendable ear within fifty metres of my person while I am here, you'll wish you'd never offered your precious home to the Order at all."
Róisín glanced at the ground beside Black, and saw two pink, disembodied ears lying on the faded carpet, severed from the long gooey tubes that lead away from their canals.
The men's wands disappeared up their sleeves just before Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room.
"What's happening? I thought the commotion was Mrs. Black but.." Mrs. Weasley's voice trailed away as she saw the looks of contempt on the two wizards' faces.
"Everything's fine, Molly," Black said in a relaxed, jovial tone, although Róisín could still see the tension in his jaw and fists. "Regrettably, Professor Snape is so intimidated by the kids' gimmicks that he thinks it's appropriate to confringo them in my hallway."
Mrs. Weasley spotted the ears on the floor, and her nostrils flared with her deep intake before she bellowed up the staircase,
"If I see ONE more extendable ear in this house, blasting curses will be the least of your worries. GET. TO. BED. ALL OF YOU." She then turned to Snape and said in an entirely pleasant tone, "Sorry about that Professor. Are you sure you won't have a nightcap before you head off?"
"I'm sure. Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Snape replied neutrally. Then he added, his voice stiff, "Keep an eye on her please."
"We will," Black replied silkily, and Snape shot him a final withering look before he swept out of the building.
Black simply glared at the space Snape had occupied for a long moment, then he turned to Róisín and his eyes crinkled with his smile,
"Well, Miss Feral, it's a pleasure to have you with us."
"Oh, thank you, er… Mr. Black."
"Sirius, please."
"Of course, sure." Róisín flushed a little; she wasn't used to using given names in the wizarding world, especially not for older adults she'd just met.
Black stepped towards her and held out a large, warm hand, which Róisín shook timidly. It was covered in tattoos of runes, a few of which she recognized as celtic emblems for animals. He leant forward and kissed her on the cheek, in the way Róisín was used to when meeting older men for the first time in the muggle world in Ireland, but had not been expecting at all from this striking wizard.
"I'll show you to your room," Mrs Weasley said with a tight smile.
The room that Róisín was to stay in was on the fourth floor and had a sign on the door saying "Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black". Róisín felt nauseated when she got there, having past a row of shrunken heads of house elves mounted to plates, trinkets made of bones, twisting taxidermies of snakes and many portraits of wizards and witches with wild black hair and cruel grey eyes, sneering at her and whispering profanities under their breaths.
"I'm sorry about the… décor," Mrs. Weasley said to Róisín as she showed her the room. "We are trying to cleanse the house of the nastier elements but it's been slow going; dark magic has a way of sticking terribly." Róisín looked around the bedroom. It was the least offensive of the spaces she had seen in the house thus far. There was a fresh bouquet of white and gold flowers on the dresser and the bedsheets were a pristine white, with an inviting heap of pillows against the headboard.
"Oh, well this room is lovely."
"Yes, well, the boys and Hermione spent the day scouring it before your arrival, and they made a big improvement. Although unfortunately the permanent sticking charms on those two are still holding up," she gestured to the rooms two most distasteful elements; a poster for the quidditch team "Purity Rises", which had been infamous for only allowing pureblood players, and a plaque that read, "Shape the world before lesser beings do," which Róisín recognised as a quote from the novel, "The Virtue of Power", a favourite among bigoted, pseudo-intellectual wizards. Róisín wondered if Hermione was another witch in the Order, but wasn't sure if it was proper to ask.
"Well, I'll leave you to get settled in. If you need anything at all, just let me know, ok?" Mrs. Weasley said, her warm eyes full of concern.
"Yes of course, thank you."
"Goodnight Róisín."
Róisín found her luggage in an empty cupboard. She changed into her pyjamas and slipped between the cool sheets in the large bed. She had so much new information to digest that she thought she would never sleep. Eventually, she drifted off while replaying over and over the aggressive exchange between her professor and the mysterious wizard, Sirius Black.
A/N: Please leave a review if you get the chance, they really motivate me to write.