Hello everyone!
Sorry I couldn't upload yesterday, I was working. But here's this week's chapter!
Again, thank you to everyone who reviewed, I really do appreciate it. Please keep doing so! My inspiration is fueled by your comments:)
Also, I would like to wish Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians, and to my American readers! I hope you all have a great weekend!
Enjoy xx

wildest dreams
VOLUME II

CHAPTER FOUR

I woke up very early the next morning. The room was still dark, but I could see the faded colors of dawn piercing through the used, dusty curtains. Stretching slowly, I stood up, grabbed my robe and walked to the door, trying not to wake Ginny and Hermione who were still deep asleep. I closed the bedroom door behind me, rubbing my eyes. The house was very quiet.

I made my way downstairs, hoping the creaking sound of the stairs under my feet would not wake up someone, and set for the kitchen where I made myself a cup of tea. As I waited for it to cool down to the perfect temperature, I started walking around the house, which I hadn't explored much the day before. I passed in front of the portrait in the hall again, and bent down to read the small inscription at the bottom : Walburga Black. Fred and George had told me she was Sirius' mother, and quite an unpleasant woman as well.

I went back up on the first floor, passing the room where I had slept, and a few other bedrooms where, no doubt, Arthur, Molly and Bill slept. Only one of the doors was slightly open – curious, I pushed it gently and entered the large room. It was the most luminous area in the whole house – the long windows, which didn't have any curtains, let the early sun fill the entire room. I first noticed the large fireplace at the end of the room – and then, the tapestry.

It was huge – it covered the whole wall facing the windows. It took me a few seconds to figure out that it portrayed a tree, with names and faces on the branches. As I walked alongside it, I saw an inscription – "The Noble and Most Ancien House of Black" –, a large crest, and a smaller inscription. I frowned as I tried to read what it said.

"Toujours pur," I read aloud, not sure of what it meant.

"It's French," suddenly said a voice.

I gasped in surprise, nearly dropping my mug as I spun around. Sirius was smiling gently, standing in the doorway.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's all right. I just – I thought I was the only one awake."

"So did I."

He approached slowly, his eyes turning to the tapestry. I frowned as I saw the look on his face. He looked very sad, and very angry at the same time. I didn't know much about Sirius' story – only that he had been wrongly imprisoned in Azkaban and that he was an old friend of Harry's father.

"What does it mean ?" I asked, pointing the French phrase.

"It means 'always pure','" said Sirius, giving me a small smile. "My family thought having pure blood gave you some kind of right on those who don't."

"I'm guessing you didn't agree with that," I replied.

He let out a small chuckle, pointing a black area of the tapestry. Underneath, I read 'Sirius'.

"I didn't. That's why I left."

"You left? Your family, you mean?"

"When I was sixteen. I couldn't stand to live with them anymore. They valued everything I was against."

"Where did you go?" I asked, curious.

"I went to live with the Potters. They were my real family, in a sense. Sometimes, blood doesn't mean anything. But I have a feeling you already know that."

I looked at him, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten. He was smiling very calmly, but I couldn't find the strength to smile back. My real family. As I glanced again at the tapestry, and at the burned area above 'Sirius'. He was right. Blood didn't mean anything – family was about more than that. It was about love, and care for each other. I felt Sirius' hand on my shoulder – he squeezed it gently, and I turned to him.

"I'll get an early start on breakfast. Want to give me a hand ?"

I nodded slowly, finally being able to smile back. I followed him downstairs, and we started cooking breakfast, as he told me some stories about his time at Hogwarts. Soon, the knot in my stomach was gone, and I found myself laughing whole-heartedly at his stories.

"It's not like we wanted to make his head blow up, really, it just sort of happened…"

"Yeah, of course it did," I chuckled, taking the Cheeri Owls boxes out of the pantry. "I can't believe Professor Lupin would do something like that."

"Well, you know – he was the good student, most of the time, but he could be quite surprising. I remember how angry McGonagall was at us," said Sirius, shaking his head. "Well – when was she not ?"

"That's exactly how it is with Fred and George," I said. "It's like she knows that there's no point in stopping being angry – because they will always end up doing something stupid that will make her angry again."

Sirius chuckled as he cracked an egg in a bowl. I was about to ask him to tell me more stories when Molly entered the kitchen.

"Dear goodness! What are you two doing up so early?"

She was already dressed, and obviously very surprised to see us here.

"We thought you could use a hand with breakfast, Molly," said Sirius.

"Oh, that's very nice of you, dears. Addy, could you bring some tea to Arthur? He's upstairs."

"Of course, Molly."

When I went upstairs, I found not only Arthur, but also Bill and Hermione. After saying good morning to everyone, I went back to help Molly with the rest of breakfast – and soon enough, everyone was sitting at the long table, enjoying eggs, porridge, bacon and cereals. Ron was the last one to arrive, his eyes still full of sleep as he sat down without a word.

After breakfast, and after helping Ginny with the dishes, I went to change into a pair of jeans and black t-shirt and went to the twins' room. We had only been talking for a few minutes when Molly came in, asking us to get to work immediately. We spent the rest of the day cleaning up one of the bedrooms upstairs, which was infested with doxys.

The next few day passed without any incident. Everyday, I woke up and went to help Molly with breakfast, and then spent the day cleaning the house with the others. One day, Ginny heard from Bill that there was going to be a meeting of the Order, but when Fred and George tried to use their Extendable Ears to hear what was happening, Molly discovered them and made a real fuss about it. I tried to convince her that we were old enough – of age, even – to join, but she wouldn't hear it.

On the second of August, sometime around ten at night, I was sitting with the twins in their room, working on some slips for Weasley Wizard Wheezes, when we heard yells coming from downstairs. Exchanging a look, we all stood up and ran outside, to the bottom of the stairs, where the hallway. We walked downstairs, where we found Ron and Hermione. Ginny came running right after us.

"What's happening?" I asked them.

There were loud voices downstairs, that sounded like they were arguing – something, clearly, was wrong.

"It's Harry," said Hermione quietly.

"Harry? What do you mean?" asked Ginny, eyes wide.

"Something about underage use of magic," said Ron. "Dumbledore's furious."

"Dumbledore's here?" said Fred and George in unison.

Just as I was about to ask when he arrived, the director of Hogwarts appeared in the hallway, where we could clearly see him. He was followed closely by Arthur.

"We have to go, Arthur, now!" said Dumbledore in a loud, terrifying voice.

I had never seen him like this – he walked quickly, his eyebrows frowned in fury – Dumbledore was always so calm, after all. I stared as he opened the door so brutally it bounced on the wall next to it with a loud bang. Arthur followed him, closed the door, and soon we could hear the familiar crack when they Disapparated.

"Bloody hell," said Ron.

"That was mental," sighed Fred.

"I've never seen Dumbledore so angry," nodded George.

"Something bad must've happened," said Hermione, shaking her head.

We all exchanged a look, and Ginny lead the way to the dining room, where we found Molly, Bill and Sirius. The latter was writing quickly on a piece of parchment.

"Mum, what is happening?" asked Ginny.

Molly looked very tired as she sat down slowly.

"Did something happen to Harry?" said Hermione, her voice shaking slightly.

"No, nothing's happened to him. Nothing bad" said Bill.

"What, then?" asked the twins.

Bill sighed, passing a hand on his face.

"Dung was watching him tonight – but he left his post earlier than he was supposed too."

"That prat," muttered Ron next to me.

"By the time he was gone, Harry was attacked by Dementors."

I stared at Bill with wide eyes. Dementors, in London? The world really was going mental.

"Is he all right?" asked Ginny.

"He's fine, but he had to use the Patronus Charm to chase them away – and of course, the Ministry heard about it, and –"

"They expelled him from Hogwarts?" finished Hermione, who was looking very pale.

"They did."

"They can't do that!" I exclaimed.

"He was just defending himself!" nodded Ginny.

Bill gave us a little smile.

"I know. Dumbledore's taking care of it. Don't worry, Harry will be fine."

"Is he still with those awful Muggles?" asked Fred.

"He is, for now. It's safer."

Next to us, Sirius stood up, the piece of parchment carefully folded in his hands. I could see the worry in his eyes as he passed next to us in a hurry.

"There's not much we can do for now, dears," suddenly said Molly.

She looked very calm, but her voice was shaky.

"All of you should go back to bed. We'll have more news tomorrow morning."

"But, Mum –"

"I don't want to hear it Ginny. All of you, to bed, now."

We knew there was no use in arguing with Molly now – and besides, I knew she was right. There was nothing to do but wait for more news, and that probably wouldn't come until the next morning. So we all went upstairs, but instead of going in our own rooms, we all went into the twins' room and sat on their beds.

"It's mental" I sighed, settling my head on George's shoulder. "All of it."

"What I'm really wondering is… what were Dementors doing so far away from Azkaban?" asked Hermione. "They never leave the prison, don't they?"

"They're not supposed too," nodded Fred.

"But they did anyway. The question is, why?" said George.

"Maybe someone sent them."

Ginny had spoken quietly – we all turned to her.

"Don't look at me like that! It's completely possible! I mean, You-Know-Who's back, what if he can control them?"

"And what, you think You-Know-Who would send Dementors after Harry? If he knows where is, why not go himself?" said Ron.

"Maybe he's not strong enough to do that," said Hermione.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise coming from the window. Hermione let out a small shriek.

"What was that?"

We all turned to the window. The curtains were pulled. Since I was closest to it, I stood up and opened them slightly. I immediately recognized the owl that stood on the other side.

"It's Hedwig!" I exclaimed excitedly, opening the window to let her in.

She flew across the room and settled on Hermione's leg. The latter, frowning, looked at the owl.

"She's carrying something," said Ginny.

But Hermione had already seen it and was carefully unwrapping the small piece of parchment.

"What does it say?" asked Fred.

"It's from Harry. He says that he's been attacked by Dementors and might be expelled from Hogwarts. He – oh…"

"What?" blurted out Ginny.

"He wants to know what is going on and when he's 'getting out of here'…"

There was a short silence.

"Poor Harry," I muttered, squeezing George's hand.

"I can't blame him," said George. "Nobody's told him anything."

"And he is the one who saw You-Know-Who return," agreed Fred.

"Dumbledore must have a good reason for not letting us writing to him," said Hermione.

"Well he better change his mind after tonight. He's been attacked by bloody Dementors!" said Ginny through gritted teeth.

"I'm sure he will. I mean, Dumbledore's mental, but he isn't that mental. He'll see that Harry isn't safe there anymore," nodded Ron.

We all talked for another ten minute or so before we all agreed to go to bed. It took me a long time to fall asleep, and when I did, I only dreamt of an army of Dementors chasing me.