Hey guys! Here's chapter 3.
A bit of a depart from Harry's POV - shout out (figuratively) to TheChildGrim, it was so weird, I had just started on this 'Order Reaction' chapter when I got your review. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. It is so great to hear your thoughts and feedback, it really inspires me when I'm stuck on a part. Sorry for the delay - work's been crazy, and then I got sick on top of that! Lame.
Hope you enjoy this chapter - I know there is a lot of OOCness going on, but please, just roll with it. I try to make the characters resonate, but ultimately, it's just me playing around with them. I'm not trying to be JK Rowling, and I take no credit for her characters. I couldn't possibly write them the same way she does, so I figure my interpretation is what you're going to have to live with! BWAHAHA. Also, I'm sorry that a lot of this is just me blabbing and not actual chapter. Oh well, trolling my own chapters, whatevs.
Disclaimers: I own nothing - every character so far, except for Grunnings Sign Man, is the property of either JK Rowling or DC comics. I'll let you figure out which is which.
Warnings: This is obviously AU and will eventually contain slash. It will also mess with both timelines, as I'm not particularly concerned with making it match up in a linear fashion. If you're one of those picky timeline people, props for taking the time to wrap your head around it, but I don't need to hear it. Also, the characters will probably be OOC from time to time, but I'll try to make them resonate. There will also be mild bashing of random characters from time to time.
Sirius Black was bored. Actually, he was a number of things, but bored featured the most prominently on his emotional scale. This was mainly due to the fact that he was stuck in his musty old childhood home, unable to go anywhere else without being promptly arrested. Well, perhaps not so promptly; the Aurors seemed to be doing a crap job with catching the actual Dark wizards lately, but it still wasn't safe. The not-so-secretly-resurrected Dark Lord probably knew about his grand disguise, no thanks to that rat traitor, so Sirius was in a bind.
He was stuck playing host to the Order of the Phoenix, which contained a small variety of witches and wizards Albus Dumbledore felt were trustworthy. This, of course, meant that they either worked at Hogwarts; were a Weasley; had a connection to Harry; or had no political significance whatsoever. Perhaps Sirius was being a bit harsh on his fellow members, but they honestly seemed to be doing a fat lot of nothing while seeming to do something. A fact which he greatly resented, because everyone knew that Sirius had nothing to do, and some (Snape!) were very condescending about it. When everyone else was doing just as little as he was – less, actually, when one took the cleaning war he was waging on the house into account – it was just cause for frustration.
So it was that Sirius cycled through stages of apathy, anger, restlessness, depression, anxiety, and boredom, with perhaps a few instances of inebriation thrown in. What he truly wanted to do was contact Harry, really see how he was doing, but Dumbledore seemed to believe that it was best for a traumatized teenager to be abandoned with his uncaring relatives for unspecified amounts of time. Sirius had been extremely irate about that, but could do nothing against the Headmaster with his status as a wanted man. He knew that the lack of information would be getting to Harry, and could only hope that he didn't do anything too stupid. That being said, he also hoped that Harry could manufacture himself some entertainment.
Sirius sighed and focused in on the dingy kitchen he was sitting in. It was still grimy and dark, no matter how many times Molly Weasley took her wand to it, and the Order members that were seating themselves around the table looked uneasy in the atmosphere the room gave off. Sirius didn't mind; it helped project his dark brooding, and offset his Azkaban pallor nicely, making everyone who glanced his way mildly unsettled. Cheap entertainment, but as stated earlier, Sirius was bored.
His interest was piqued when there was a minor bit of shuffling at the door, and the Order members turned to look at the intruder. Sirius wondered why Dumbledore hadn't set up wards yet for the super-secret-meeting-held-in-dingy-basement-kitchen, but the old man was just looking at the small grouping of teens with an indulgent twinkle in his eye.
"Fred! George!" a bustling Molly Weasley yelped, "What have I told you? You're still in school, you're not allowed in the Order!"
Sirius peered through the rapidly accumulating haze of Mundungus Fletcher's pipe smoke at the teenagers. He saw three of them, two admittedly red-headed, but they were far from identical. So it was confusing as to why Molly Weasley would address her youngest children, one of which was quite certainly a girl, as her seventeen-year-old sons. The kids were evidently confused as well, with the only brunette, Harry's friend Hermione, looking uncertainly between Ron and Ginny.
Before anyone could say anything, another red head popped into the doorway.
"Aw, mum," it said, "it's bad enough when you can't even tell us apart," he broke off as an identical head appeared on the opposite side of the frame, and it continued the sentence seamlessly,
"But now you've gone and confused Gin Gin and Ickle Ronniekins with us!" there was a slight pause, before the voices said in unison,
"That's just not on!"
Sirius grinned at the byplay. Molly Weasley was looking rather flustered. She stammered for all of a second, then rallied and snapped out,
"Well, I was right, you're here and you're interrupting! Now what was it you wanted, Hermione dear? Ginny?" Her tone changed to one of kind indulgence.
The remaining nonidentical male red-head in the doorway grumbled a bit.
"No, I didn't want anything. Just standing here, don't mind me..." He trailed off as his mother glared at him.
The frizzy-haired witch, one Hermione Granger, whom Sirius knew from a rather singular evening involving an abandoned shack, a werewolf and a hippogriff (and no – contrary to his deviant reputation, it's not what it sounds like, she was maybe fourteen for Merlin's sake!) cleared her throat.
"Sorry to interrupt, Professors, Mrs. Weasley, and ah -" here she looked uncertain, then said questioningly, "Sirius' guests?" She recovered quickly from her momentary confusion and continued. "It's just, Hedwig's just arrived, and Harry has sent a few letters..."
Sirius, who had leapt to his feet at the word 'Hedwig', made to snatch the bundle of parchment from the girl's hands. She had letters! From Harry! And she wasn't sharing, damn her!
Before it got to the point of Sirius full out tackling the young genius, Dumbledore intervened. Gently plucking the bundle from Hermione's grasp, he quickly perused the addressees before saying cheerfully,
"Thank you, Miss Granger, and no apologies are necessary. It is always a pleasure to hear from Harry."
In a shadowy corner (well, even more shadowy than usual, Sirius amended) Severus Snape snorted. Sirius glared at him, or rather, into the depth of the shadows he was fairly certain contained the Potions Master, but said nothing. He wanted a letter from Harry.
Hermione smiled tremulously at the Headmaster, flushing in a pleased manner at his address. She cleared her throat and asked,
"Sir, would it be alright to write back and actually tell him things? I'm sure he's feeling very isolated at the moment, and I've read about Post Traumatic -" Here the girl had adopted a voice Sirius imagined a textbook would have – if textbooks were to have vocal chords, that is. She had transformed from concerned best friend to Gryffindor know-it-all so suddenly the animagus wondered if she was also a werewolf – she was so like Moony!
He had mixed feeling when Dumbledore interrupted the girl and calmly shooed the teenagers out the door, assuring them that Harry was fine and it was far to dangerous to write him with any information. He didn't want to listen to the girl go on, but he hated that Harry was out there all alone, with nothing to do but write stacks of letters to people who didn't answer back.
He sighed as Dumbledore sat down, flicking his wand at the door to prevent eavesdropping. Serenely, the Headmaster slit open the parchment and perused the letter with growing alarm. Reaching the end, he set the parchment down on the grubby table and sighed out, "Oh, dear."
"What is it?" Sirius asked sharply, narrowing his eyes at Dumbledore.
The rest of the Order fidgeted in their seats, obviously curious, but unwilling to verbally accost the Headmaster as Sirius had.
Dumbledore steepled his fingers and nodded at the letter, saying "It appears that Harry and his relatives have left Privett Drive indefinitely."
"What?" Sirius – he would later deny this to any who pointed it out – shrieked, and lunged across the table to grasp at Harry's letter. At the last moment, Dumbledore flicked the parchment out of his reach, leaving Sirius sprawled across his own kitchen table while Order members broke out into worried gasps and exclamations. The din rose as Sirius settled himself again, with Molly Weasley being the most vocal of the grouping. Finally, a waspish voice cut through the babble spouting from the witches and wizards.
"Perhaps, Headmaster, if you were to dispense with the theatrics and actually read the letter aloud, something constructive could be gained from this ... gathering," Severus Snape sneered from the shadows. Sirius bared his teeth, but refrained from his usual antagonizing of his school rival; he may hate the greasy git, but he wanted to hear what Harry had to say.
"Of course, Severus, how remiss of me," Dumbledore said, and the Order members settled down once more, hanging off the words of the Headmaster. Sirius fidgeted in his seat as Dumbledore ponderously flattened the letter with his long fingers, delicately picked it up, and adjusted his half-moon spectacles while clearing his throat in preparation. Sirius mentally rolled his eyes at the aptly named 'theatrics'. Dumbledore appeared ready, and with a firm voice read out the letter:
Greetings, Withholders of Information!
I decided not to reciprocate your barricading of news, and thought you might want to know that Uncle Vernon is traveling for his company. The family is going with him, and that apparently includes me, now. So no need to send your useless letters to Surrey; they'd be better served as kindling or something. I don't think I'll tell you where we're going – I'm just petty enough to want to make you a bit frustrated. Have fun finding me, I'll be taking care to hide from Lord Zombie, so we'll see how well I do, yeah?
Although I am frustrated with all of you, I solemnly swear on all the lemon drops ever that I am NOT up to no good – just thought I'd have a vacation before a certain someone decides to kill me. Have a nice summer!
Cheers,
Harry
Molly Weasley immediately began shrieking about how poor Harry had been dragged off by those awful muggles, while McGonagall was hissing in Dumbledore's ear. Tonks, Remus and Kingsley were huddled at one end of the table, presumably combining their knowledge of muggles and 'company trips'. There were many suggested courses of action, some quite brutal (Moody) and some rather ridiculous (Molly Weasley), and none noticed that the usually easily-riled Sirius Black was not contributing to the plans, or demanding to take part in them. None noticed him sitting back, quite at ease in the heavy chair, with a triumphant gleam in his eye. None, except for a certain Potions Master.
The discussion finally wound down when everyone realized that they had no leads, and no plan of action for the time being. Dumbledore assigned several witches and wizards to try and locate Harry, and adjourned the meeting. As the Headmaster was preparing to leave, Sirius spoke up.
"Sir?"
Dumbledore turned, and saw a defeated man. Sirius Black, escaped convict on the run from Azkaban, who lived for two things; vengeance, and his godson, Harry Potter, was slumped in place. He saw a man with nothing left but the quiet desperation leaking out of his tired eyes.
"What is it, my boy?" he asked gently, while the Potions Master in the corner snorted quietly.
"Could I – could I please have Harry's letter? It's just, he's gone, and I can't do anything, and I – he -" Sirius broke off, looking lost and pleading. He looked very similar to a kicked puppy out in a thunderstorm, and couldn't help but wonder if he was overdoing it. But no, Dumbledore's eyes softened, and a beatific smile appeared on his face. If the letter would keep Sirius in Grimmauld Place, then it was a small price to pay. Harry could not have enchanted it, there were no hidden messages to be gained. With a gentle gesture, he passed the note to Sirius, who held it carefully, like it was his last link to life. Looking as though he had just performed a very good deed, the Headmaster of Hogwarts exited the dingy kitchen with quiet grace.
0000oooo0000
Severus Snape stared at the bowed head of his childhood enemy. A less observant person would have missed the shadowed smirk on his lips, or mistaken the quivering of his shoulders as sorrow. As it was, Severus was a very observant man – he was a spy, for Merlin's sake – and he knew that Sirius was trying to hold back gleeful laughter. Sure enough, when Black evidently thought he was alone, he let out a bark of laughter, and spun around wildly with the letter, before coming to a halt and kissing it soundly.
"Thatta boy!" he crowed, "what a way to get back at them! Oh, James would be so proud – what message have you left for me, my little Prongslet?"
"Why do you have any indication that a message has been left?" Severus broke in on the man's rambling, and was satisfied with a great start of shock from the animagus. "Dumbledore was unable to detect any hidden messages. There is nothing concealed there."
Black looked Severus over with a shrewd, calculating gaze much more Slytherin than Severus was comfortable with. It was easy to forget, even in a house such as this, how Sirius had been raised. He was always so loudly Gryffindor that everyone forgot: fundamentally, Sirius was a Black. And the Blacks were ruthless, at the end of the day.
Severus seemed to pass some sort of test, because Black waved Potter's letter in front of his face.
"What do you smell, Snivellous? Put that big beak of yours to good use, yeah?" Black said with a sneer Lucius Malfoy himself would struggle to emulate.
Scowling, Severus did as directed, and took a careful whiff. The scent was instantly recognizable. Severus smelled it whenever he was dragged into the Headmaster's office.
"Lemons," he said curtly, "obviously the Headmaster has been in contact with it for too long -" he broke off when he saw the manic grin forming on Black's face.
"Don't you see?" Black gushed, "how brilliant it is? Dumbledore doesn't even register the smell of lemons anymore! And do you know anything about invisible ink?"
Severus sighed impatiently.
"The Headmaster would have detected such a simple thing, Black," he said scathingly. Black's grin only widened.
"No, not our invisible ink. Muggle invisible ink! Harry put the code in – see the reference to – well, you wouldn't know the password, but then he mentions lemons, so then obviously -" Black whipped out his wand, and produced a small flame. He was obviously delusional from being cooped up in here for so long. But niggling at the back of Severus' brain was a red-headed girl, excitedly running up with lemons and paper, a secretive smirk on her face...
As Severus recalled an almost forgotten facet of his childhood, brown letters began to fade in behind the black of the ink. Potter had evidently written a message in lemon juice, to be intercepted by one in on this juvenile secret. He almost snorted at the simplicity, but stopped, realizing that it had gotten past Dumbledore, so obviously something was being done right. Black was still grinning.
"I can't believe I forgot this! I could have been sending Harry loads of information! He's probably furious!" Black said, smiling despite his proclaimed worry over his godson's ire. The hidden message was simple, but far more helpful.
Padfoot,
I'm hoping you're the only one who picked up on this, and you let me have my fun hiding from people. I'm putting this in in the hope that you might want to join me? Or not. We'll be in America, and you should be able to track down where exactly through Uncle Vernon's company. Please don't get caught. If you can't come, no problem – I can entertain myself.
Harry
Severus had to give it to the boy, it was clever. And he was well-versed enough in the muggle world to know just how to go about getting the information from the company, something he was sure Black had taken into account when showing him the hidden message. Turning to Black, he raised a single eyebrow.
"Well, then, mutt? What are you going to do with this information?" he asked in dry voice.
"Well," Black said, letting the fire on the end of his wand flare and engulf the parchment, "I'm going to track Harry down, and try to make sure you don't run to either of your masters to tell them where he is."
Severus started a sneering comment, but before he could even open his mouth, Black interrupted him.
"How would you like to come with me to America? A little vacation, all expenses paid out of the Black family vault." Black's grin could be described as 'shit-eating' it was so wide, and Severus internally juggled his obligations, and the cover stories he would have to construct to pursue this venture. He thought of his vows, and the preeminent one stood forth in his mind, blazing like fire and dimming all the others.
Protect Lily's son.
With a resigned sigh, he gave a brisk nod to Black, who grinned, if possible, even wider, and set to planning their escapade across the pond.
AU: Okay, that's the Order out of the way. Sorry if I rushed a bit through things, but I have a lot of trouble/little patience for writing dialogue when a descriptor paragraph will work just as well. Also, please don't be hating for OOC stuff - as stated above, this is my interpretation on a situation that would never have occasion to happen in Canon (sorry, have to point out quasi-internal rhyme in that sentence. It's midnight. I'm tired.). As to the Harry letters - I realize he's fourteen and traumatized, but have you ever (reminisce on teenage dramatics NOW) been so upset or angry or exasperated with a situation that you write a reaaaaaalllly horribly sarcastic and verbose letter or rant about it, then seal it away never to be seen again? I just thought that maybe Harry could actually send a letter like that. Combination of being told to pack up his life by his uncle, stonewalling from the wizarding world, on top of trauma of the tournament - I'd send the stupid letter. Ideally, for Harry, he won't have to deal with the consequences until September, so Whatevs. That's my reasoning. Also, for the Snape Sirius working together bit... sorry, but a huge reconciliation is just silly. I think they can be adult enough to move past it and maybe bring it up when the subject gets really sore, but avoidance is an awesome way to deal with someone you don't like when you have a common goal. I hope this makes sense, and I hope you review to tell me what you think!