Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely nothing. Except the crazy, kinda messed up character that is Hannah. She's mine.
A/N: Alright. This is me trying to write this again. I apologize in advanced if this chapter is awful.
Harry and I had been at 12 Grimmauld Place for two weeks, and it had done nothing to improve Harry's mood. After his massive freak out day one he'd decided to give most of us the cold shoulder. Me included. Which didn't make much sense considering that I was in the same boat he was. Leave it to Harry to be more hormonal than a 15 year old girl.
I, surprise surprise, flew under the radar.
I guess some of it made sense, Harry was the one Voldemort was after. He was the one who'd seen him come back and all. But hello? I was still here. Still in some kind of danger being the closest to Harry after all. The bits of Order of the Phoenix meetings we'd been able to catch, using Fred and George's Extendable Ears, gave us no new information. And the pseudo meeting we'd all managed to stick around for hadn't been helpful either. All we knew was that Voldemort had a new weapon, the Ministry, or Fudge really, didn't believe he was back and Harry was in grave danger. Same ol' same ol'.
I will say one thing about number twelve. It wasn't conducive to a happy environment. There were so many old, dusty things lying around, ominous portraits and the ever so creepy elf heads mounted on the wall. Not to mention the lack of natural light. It was killing me slowly. I thrived on natural light because my paintings and drawings thrived on it. Needless to say I hadn't been doing much art. Not that I had time. Mrs. Weasley had enlisted us to help her wage war against the house. And that's exactly what it felt like. The thirteen years of not having any human inhabitants had left the house looking a little worse for wear. Kreacher the house-elf didn't help either. We'd throw something away and he'd fish it out and put it back. It infuriated Sirius to no end which caused him to yell at the poor elf, which got Hermione all defensive about elf rights which got on everyone's nerves, because she wouldn't stop. Like I said, not a great environment. The only person who seemed to be happier that Harry and I were there was Sirius.
Poor guy. He'd been looked up for 13 years, wrongly accused of something and was out but forced into hiding now, watching everyone else 'have all the fun' as he would say. He was beyond proud of Harry for fighting of the dementors, even if it had earned him a hearing and possible expulsion from Hogwarts. I think part of him felt like he had James back through Harry. And me? Well Sirius seemed to be my biggest defender. He reminded people that I was in serious danger too. Voldemort would be happy to have me in his possession because Harry would be bound to play hero and come get me. But no one really seemed to hear that. At least he tried though.
Anyway...back to the war on the house. This particular battle was being fought against creepy little creatures called doxies. All was going well until I found myself standing next to Fred. I wasn't sure what was going on in my head in that department but whatever it was, it wasn't fun. Standing there, feeling the heat radiate off of him wasn't helping much either.
"Hello Hannah." he said adjusting his scarf over his nose and mouth, leaving only his startling blue eyes visible. "I feel like I haven't seen you at all, though you live across the hall."
"Yeah well, you're not the only one." I replied pulling my hair up so I could put my own scarf on. He glanced at me, eyebrow raised.
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. I'm just being a little angsty." I sighed securing my scarf, looking around. "I hate this place."
"You and me both love." a new voice said from behind me. It was Sirius.
"It's so...dark. No light." I looked at him as he nodded.
"Imagine growing up here."
"I'd rather not."
"You can see why I spent so much time at James' house."
"It was your Burrow wasn't it." He nodded, a smile transforming his face, though I could only see his eyes.
"I loved it there. Fresh air, no insane family. No not fitting in because I was a Gryffindor." He was quiet for a moment. "I wish you could've seen it there. You and Harry would've loved it. He walked over to Mrs. Weasley to get whatever it was we were spraying the doxies with, almost lost in thought. Fred turned back to me.
"He seems to be noticing you."
"Yeah well that makes two." He nudged my arm gently.
"Cheer up. Angst doesn't look good on you." I couldn't help but smile at that. "There we go. Smiling is a much better look."
"How can you even tell I'm smiling?" I snapped playfully.
"Cause your eyes light up a certain way when you're truly smiling." I looked up at him. His dark blue eyes looking at me in a way I couldn't quite figure out. Before I had much time to really think about it Mrs. Weasley was calling us to attention so the battle could commence. And so it did. God it was boring. Squirt a doxy in the face, throw it away. Over, and over. Until Fred succeeded in smuggling one into his pocket.
"What's that for?" I asked, watching him.
"Some stuff George and I are working on." He said, trying to shrug it off.
"You're not getting away with it that easily Mr. Weasley." I said in mock authority. His eyes smiled at me again.
"Later."
"Promise?"
"Cross my heart." With that we went back to de-doxification. I was throwing one in the trash when one Fred had gotten out of the curtains came flying right at me. I went to catch it, and it bit me. Just my luck. I instantly felt queasy.
"Mrs. Weasley," I managed to get out. "Can I have some antidote?" She looked over to see me shaking the thing off my finger and Fred throwing it away. It only took a swallow to kick in but I still felt gross. Mrs. Weasley sent me to the kitchen to start lunch. I obliged willingly. Not that I was a great cook. At all.
Looking around the kitchen I wondered where to start. Setting the table. It was the only thing I really knew how to do so to me it made sense. As I was peeking in cabinets looking for plates I heard someone moving around. I turned and saw the house elf, Kreacher walk in.
"Hello Kreacher." I said. No very many people were nice to him, which was probably why he was so awful. That and the family he had belonged to his whole life were hellish. He looked at me with his trademark scowl but then something seemed to lighten.
"Mistress. Potter, what a pleasant surprise. Is there anything I can help you locate?" I looked at him closely, trying to see if he was okay, bleeding from a head wound that would have made him a little unsteady. Nothing.
"Umm...yeah actually. Plates? And utensils and such." He made his way to the cabinet directly behind me and levitated plates down with a snap. I grabbed them and set them on the table. As he brought me utensils I voiced what I had been thinking. "Kreacher, why are you so...you treat me better than almost everyone else. Why?" He looked at me with a small smile.
"You aren't like the rest of them Miss. Potter."
"You're right. Hermione and I are the only muggleborns here." He scoffed.
"Mudbloods..."
"Please don't use that word in front of me Kreacher."
"Apologies Miss. Potter." he bowed. "You are not like the rest of them." With that he straightened up and left. Utterly bewildered I turned back to the table as the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry and Sirius came in. Mrs. Weasley, seeing that I had accomplished nothing, went right to work preparing lunch, and before I knew it we were sitting down eating. Still feeling a little nauseous I didn't eat much which did not go unnoticed by Sirius, who was seated next to me.
"You know, eating is generally a good idea." he said as he looked a my food that I had barely touched.
"Yeah I know. I'll work on that once I get an appetite." He looked at me, curious.
"Are you alright Hannah?"
"Yeah I'm fine. Just a little tired. I don't sleep well in this house." I admitted sheepishly.
"Nor do I." He nodded. "I slept better in Azkaban than I do here most nights."
"As much as I love you Sirius, I hate your house." He smiled.
"I don't blame you a bit." He paused, thinking and looked like he was going to say something. But before he could Harry asked him something from his other side and once more The-Boy-Who-Lived had his undivided attention.
A/N: Alright. Well that was an interesting thing to write. Hope you enjoy it! Review? Pretty please?