Disclaimer; I don't own the wonderful world of Harry Potter or any of the characters created by JK Rowling. Alex however is all mine.
The next few days had been hectic. They had tackled the bedroom on the third floor only to find it full of cursed and dangerous objects. Sirius had said that it was one of the guest bedrooms so they couldn't be sure who owned them. They had proceeded with caution and had it cleaned in three days; though Ginny suffered a nasty burn from a malfunctioning gas lamp that sputtered to life when it was near human hair, and Alex had been bitten by a rather vicious book. "Why did they even have that book?" Alex had complained, rubbing his aching thumb while glaring at the now stunned book in his father's hand. His father had smiled sympathetically and informed him that most members of his family were evil so it was unsurprising that their possessions were too.
They had later received word that Harry had been attacked by Dementors. This predictably caused a major commotion at headquarters and an emergency meeting had been called.
Molly had caught them trying to listen in on the meeting using extendable ears and pitched a fit. She decided that the house needed purged of the sneaky devices; the only ones that survived were the ones Alex had hidden at the bottom of Pigwideon's cage. Unfortunately Ron hadn't cleaned the cage in some time so no one was particularly keen on using them.
He was currently up in the master bedroom feeding Buckbeak. The members of the order tasked with bringing Harry back from his Uncles house had left earlier and were expected back shortly. He had lent Tonks his Firebolt for the mission and he could only hope that it would survive the journey.
"I'm afraid this is the last one." Alex told Buckbeak as he gingerly picked the last dead rat up out of the bag and tossed it to the hippogriff. Buckbeak snatched it out of the air and devoured it greedily. Alex waited for him to finish before he set the bloody bag down and went over and scratched his forehead. There was a hesitant rap on the door and it opened slowly.
Fred and George walked into the room; eyeing the Hippogriff carefully. "We were just looking for you." Fred said making sure to stick close to the open door. George stopped beside his twin, refusing to make eye contact with the majestic creature. Buckbeak eyed them warily before nudging Alex's hand to continue its scratching.
Fred eyed the bloody bag on the floor in disgust. "I can't believe you voluntarily feed him."
Alex shrugged nonchalantly "It's calming." he told Fred before turning his attention to George.
"Why are you looking at the ceiling?" he asked George perplexed.
George turned his gaze to Alex. "I just don't want to offend him" he replied nodding towards the creature.
"Are you serio-"
"Anyway," Fred began: interrupting Alex. "We just popped in to let you know that Harry's here, though you could probably tell from all the shouting."
"Harry's here?" Alex said excitedly. "Wait. What shouting?"
"Let's just say that Harry was even less pleased with his summer arrangement than Sirius is." answered George. "And he's venting his frustration vocally."
"You really need to listen more carefully mate." added Fred. "But if you don't mind, we have other places to be." He said taking a flesh coloured string out of his pocket. And with that the two disapparated out of the room: leaving Alex to calm an indignant Buckbeak. He listened carefully but he could hear no sign of his best friend.
Seeing no reason for the twins to lie he pet Buckbeak goodbye and made his way out of the room; making sure to close the door behind him. On his way to his bedroom he met Mrs Weasley leading a reluctant Ginny down the stair case.
"The meeting's over," Mrs Weasley began, "And I need you to remove the dung bombs outside the kitchen door before we have dinner. You can say hello to Harry later."
Alex looked confusedly at Ginny. "Why are there dung bombs outside the kitchen door?"
"Crookshanks left them there." She replied unblinkingly.
He looked down at her filthy hands "Crookshanks as in Crookshanks the cat?" He asked suspiciously.
"How many other Crookshanks' do you know?"
He gave her a dirty look in response and turned with a dramatic sigh to follow them down the stairs. He'd rather give Harry some time to calm down anyway.
Ginny departed for the bathroom on the first floor; presumably to wash her hands.
He entered the gloomy hallway below with Mrs Weasley. It was packed with the witches and wizards that had attended the meeting; they were clustered together in groups: whispering excitedly together.
He spotted his vividly pink haired cousin talking to an older witch he vaguely recognised and made a beeline for her: wading through the other order members who abruptly changed topic as he passed.
"Hey there Tonks" he said, glancing at her empty hands as she turned in surprise to face him. "How was the flight? No death eaters? That's great. Super even. But the thing is, I can't see my broom. Why can't I see my broom Tonks?"
She rolled her eyes in response, "Maybe because it's in the kitchen."
"Oh." He replied stupidly, smiling apologetically at Tonks and the witch he interrupted. "Of course it is. But it's fine right?"
"It's perfectly fine." She reassured, reaching out and ruffling his hair.
"Ugh, don't touch the hair." He told her as he quickly swatted her hand away and began patting it down. He then turned and left his cousin to return to her previous conversation, walking towards the doorway surrounded by dung bombs and quickly gathering them up. He then turned back the direction he came and headed up to the bedroom Ginny and Hermione shared on the first floor.
Their room was quite similar to the one he shared with Ron; if a bit more colourful and a lot cleaner. He pulled Ginny's trunk out from under her bed and shoved the dung bombs into the empty plastic bag inside; kicking the trunk back under as he stood back up.
He looked down and scowled at the powdery brown residue left on his hands as he walked towards the hallway. He passed Ginny on his way into the bathroom.
"Why were all your Dungbombs really outside the kitchen door?" he asked her as he stood in the doorway.
"I was trying to see if the door was imperturbed," she told him, "Tonks told me how to find out. You just chuck stuff at the door and if it can't make contact then there's an Imperturbable Charm on it.
"And you just had to use Dungbombs?" he asked her showing her his dirty hands, "I got that crap all over my hands. You could have used socks or something."
"I could have," she agreed, "but where's the fun in that?"
He frowned in reply and turned into the bathroom as she continued towards the staircase.
The bathroom was nearly as gloomy as the rest of the house. It was a high ceilinged room with tiles covering both the walls and the floor, with a massive black marble bathtub in one corner, next to the toilet, and matching marble sink in the other. There was a large oval mirror hanging over the sink. The only source of light came from a small window directly across from the door: which made it very difficult for those under age to use the bathroom at night.
It was only after some serious cleaning from Mrs Weasley that they discovered that the tiles were in fact grey and not black. He shuddered in disgust at the thought of the house trying to live up to its master's name.
He was interrupted from his thoughts by the muffled wailing of Walburga Black's portrait coming from the floor below. Scowling at the noisy interruption he turned around and firmly shut the door to block out some of the noise.
He found that to be the best response to deal with the racist, prejudice old hag: to go into a different room and try to ignore what she was saying. His father however had a very different approach, and he could make out his voice now; screaming right back at the portrait.
He walked over to the sink and scrubbed his hands clean. He then studied his reflection in the large mirror. All in all he looked remarkably like his father did when he was younger; tall and pale with the same darkly handsome features.
He however kept his dark hair relatively short and neat, and he inherited the green eyes from his mother's side of the family. It made him stick out like a sore thumb in family pictures with the Weasleys.
By the time he entered the kitchen, the other occupants were bustling about trying to get dinner ready. Mr Weasley was magically chopping up vegetables whilst Mrs Weasley was stirring a massive pot full of food and keeping a wary eye on Tonks, who was enthusiastically taking goblets out of Hermione's hands to put on the table. The other Weasleys and Lupin were helping by taking out plates, more goblets and food from the pantry. Harry was sitting at the table with Sirius and Mundungus, and Crookshanks was curled up in his father's lap. His father looked up at him and smiled. He walked quietly towards his best friend.
"Holy Merlin, its Harry Potter!" Alex exclaimed, grinning like a fool. Harry turned in surprise, and then jumped up to embrace his friend. They shared a rough hug and when they broke apart Alex noticed that his father was smiling sadly at them.
He turned to join Harry, who had retaken his seat at the table.
"So, how's your summer been so far?" he asked Harry as he sat down in the empty seat at Harry's right.
"Lousy." said Harry. "Though I hardly expected to have a fun time with the Dursleys."
"Don't know what you're complaining about, myself." said Sirius, who was sitting to Harry's left.
"Em, you do realise he got attacked by a Dementor, don't you dad?" asked Alex hesitantly.
"Personally," Sirius continued. "I'd have welcomed a Dementor attack. A deadly struggle for my soul would have broken the monotony nicely. Instead I've been stuck in here for a month. Can't even go outside to stretch my legs."
"Why can't you just go out in your Animagus form?" asked Harry, frowning.
"Well You Know Who will know about that by now, because Peter Pettigrew's on their side." Alex answered helpfully for his father.
"Well at least you've known what's been going on." Harry said bracingly.
"Oh yeah," said Sirius sarcastically. "Listening to Snape's reports, having to take all his snide hints that he's out there risking his life while I'm sat on my backside here having a nice comfortable time...asking how the cleaning's going -"
"Snape's a git dad. There's a reason no-one likes him. And I actually don't know all the much Harry. Apparently I'm not important enough to know." Alex said, giving his father a pointed glare.
Sirius put his hands up in defence. "Hey now. It's not my fault you've been left in the dark. Molly's told me that under no circumstances am I to tell you anything even vaguely related to Order business. Apparently being in Azkaban has diminished my parental rights." he added the last part bitterly.
"Oh." Alex said as he shared an awkward look with Harry. "You're here now dad. That's what matters." he told him earnestly; receiving a sad smile in return.
"Sirius," said Mundungus, who did not appear to have paid any attention to the conversation but now succeeded in distracting his father from his depressing thoughts. "This solid silver, mate?" he asked, holding up one of the empty goblets Tonks had sat on the table.
Alex tuned out his Father's reply and turned to Harry, punching him lightly on the arm to dispel the awkwardness.
"Now that you're here the fun times can really begin." he told Harry sarcastically. "I think we're cleaning out the drawing room tomorrow."
"Why do we need to clean the drawing room?"asked Harry.
"Cause this place is pretty much uninhabitable. No-one's lived here in years and the house elf Kreatcher, which by the way is the creepiest thing ever, is like defective or something, because he won't clean a thing."
"So that's what you've spent your summer doing? Cleaning?"
"Pretty much." Alex replied. "The excitement of it nearly killed me."
He turned his head to get an estimate on how much longer the food would take when he saw Fred and George pointing their wands ominously at the large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of Butterbeer and a heavy wooden breadboard complete with knife.
"Don't!" he yelled loudly at the twins; causing them to look at him startled. His yell had also drawn the attention of the other occupants in the room.
"Oh for heaven sake boys," Mrs Weasley began, scowling at her sons, "Just carry them."
"We were just trying to save a bit of time." Fred muttered sullenly as he and George gathered the haul and carried it towards the table: the others slowly following them.
Dinner that night had been tense, yet informative. It had started out fine, until his father had decided that just because he couldn't directly tell Alex anything didn't mean that he couldn't tell Harry about some of Voldermort's plans and allow Alex to listen.
Mrs Weasley was not amused.
She was even less amused when all the other teenagers, apart from Ginny, were allowed to stay and listen aswell.
Alex wasn't at all shocked to find out that Voldermort was trying to build an army; it was the logical thing to do after all. The only shocking revelation was that Voldermort was looking for a weapon of some kind.
Mrs Weasley refused to allow them to hear anymore and sent them all swiftly to their rooms.
He went to bed with a lot on his mind that night.
A/N: Special thanks to xXMizz Alec VolturiXx for the review. If you guys wanna let me know what you think, just click the button. It'll take 2 seconds. Constructive criticism is welcome
-Lieutenant Sarcasm