C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl
Chapter III: Grandmother's house
It was fortunate that Tonks had charmed her flat with a cooling charm for the summer or else Cassy might have easily over-heated in the four hours she had spent beside the oven in Tonks' tiny kitchen. It was nice enough, although very bright and not well cleaned at all. Tonks once told her as long as it looked clean then it was clean enough for her and Cassy had not minded until she had leant in a particularly sticky patch of counter.
Cassy ran her hands under the tap once again as Tonks poked her head through the doorway. She giggled and grinned, putting armful of bags she was carrying down onto the counter.
'Still baking?' she asked, plucking one of the disregarded cookies up front the pile beside the kettle.
'The first batch was burnt, the second tasted odd, the third needed more sugar. This one, however, tasted really nice as a dough, so I am hoping I have mastered it,' replied Cassy, kneeling in front of the oven to stare through the glass door.
'I don't see what's wrong with this one,' said Tonks. She picked up another and her face instantly crumpled as if having licked soap or something equally disgusting.
'I piled them all together,' admitted Cassy with a low laugh.
'I assume that was one from the second batch,' said Tonks weakly. The remains went straight in the bin. 'Do you cook often, or is this a new hobby?'
'I have never made more than a basic sandwich, to be honest. Harry once told me he would teach me to cook. He cooks a lot for his relatives,' she said.
'I see why you don't cook. I mean, I wouldn't if I had a pair of house-elves. I don't really cook now, if I could afford it I would have take-away every night. Then again, I don't think I would pass the Auror standards if I did that, I don't think I would be fit enough, but it would be worth it to have Chinese or Indian every night.' Tonks stared up at the ceiling. 'Do you fancy Chinese tonight? I get off work a bit late.'
'I have never had it.' Cassy opened the oven to turn the tray around with a tea towel. She looked up and behind her at the lack of response. Tonks was staring at her in shock.
'Never? Blimey, you don't know what you're missing,' she said, sounding a lot like Ron suddenly. 'That settles it. We'll have Chinese when I get back at about seven then.'
Cassy put all the used utensils in the sink and Tonks waves her wand over them. The brush lifted itself and began to work.
'Where are those house-elves of yours?' asked Tonks.
'In Canterbury. I do not have much use of them here and they like to keep the house clean. Besides, they would have a fit if they saw me doing my own cooking. They fidget enough if I make my own drinks,' muttered Cassy and Tonks laughed.
Cassy was privately very pleased Plum was keeping herself busy with the house. More than once she had been forced to shoo her little elf from her room, her patience quickly wearing thin at her insane demands. It had started with infrequent requests for her to eat more, easily brushed away, but as time progressed, they became more common and Cassy did not want disturbing each night with a bowl of non-requested food shoved under her nose. Those had attempts had given way to questions about Narcissa and Draco, whether she had written to them, or heard from them, prompts that she should make the first move, even though she had and had been rejected.
A flicker of resentment rose within her chest one evening and she turned to the pair with narrowed eyes. She should not have let them become so familiar with her, cross the boundaries that others had always set and allowing them to make such demands. In an instant, she banned them both from speaking to and of Narcissa in context of contacting her. They were not to ask, or prompt, unless news of her having contacted Cassy appeared first. They were not to try and force her to eat when she did not want to, not do anything she did not want. They could suggest, but were to drop the topic if she declined. It was the first strong command she had ever given them and was lenient at best, but it did what she wanted. It shocked them into doing as she said anyway. She silently congratulated herself on not banning everything outright. The house-elves sunk and withered under the intensity of her stare, even though she had refused to glare.
Opening the oven once again, Cassy pulled the tray out. The cookies were a light golden brown and a sweet, delicious smell filled the air.
'They look good! Personally, I can't make shortbread. My mum makes the best. The only thing I can bake is cupcakes and plain biscuits. I'm not really into baking any more than cooking, you see, unless it involves eating it!' Tonks grinned cheekily. She plucked one of the fresh cookies from the tray, gasping as she threw she steaming treat from hand to hand. She dropped it down onto the side and Cassy fixed her with a very pointed look.
'And how old are you?' she drawled. 'The rest of these are for Harry, anyway.'
'Oh?' said Tonks, shoving broken bits into her mouth as if it made a difference to the heat. She fanned her mouth. 'Why?'
'Because he does not eat well at home,' said Cassy shortly. She was not about to divulge Harry's family life to people who did not even know him. 'Besides, they would just bulk up the present I brought him this morning.'
'Wha' 'id' woo ge' 'im?' questioned Tonks, unable to shut her mouth, steam escaping thickly.
Cassy paused and stared for a moment before saying, 'Some trainers and a pair of goggles for Quidditch that adjust to his eyesight.'
Cassy hated all of his shoes, they were tatty and old and she had been unable to resist when she had spotted them in a Muggle shop window a few days ago. She had all ready purchased the goggles, having heard much of him complaining in previous years that his glasses often slipped down his nose during the game. She had even bartered them down in price simply by asking a dozen questions and disconcerting the other people in the store so much that he wanted her out. It was a wonderful time-waster.
'How is the Order going?' she asked.
'Same as usual,' answered Tonks, carefully rummaging through the pile of attempted biscuits. 'The Headquarters is still a complete mess. You will have lots of fun cleaning, I'm sure.'
Cassy deflated very quickly at the idea of manual labour and Tonks cackled.
'How's packing?' Tonks carefully put the next cookie on her tongue, testing the flavour before taking a large bite.
'Complete,' she said. She had simply taken most of the boxes out of her wardrobe where she had stacked and hidden them weeks ago.
'You need to be ready at seven on Thursday morning and I need to go back to work. My lunch break is almost over. Have fun cooking and remember, Chinese tonight.'
Cassy waved and took the small box of cookies into the living room. Pausing, she scanned the skies through the open windows. There was not a bird in sight, no large owl flying back towards her with a parcel tied to his leg. Crin was nowhere to be seen and that was good. It meant that he had not been immediately sent back with the gift she had carefully selected tied to his leg returning with him. She did not know if it had been to the correct taste at all and not until September would be know anything for certain at all. After all, it was difficult to imagine wedding present ideas for those she did not know.
For the first time in weeks, the summer Sun was hidden behind a thick layer of clouds. The grey skies reflected the dark street, each house tall and thin with dark, grimy stonework and steps leading to the front doors with tiny gardens. Black bin-bags lined the streets, ready for collection. Several houses had cracked windows and yellowed net curtains behind dusty drapes. Dry grass sprouted from between the old paving slabs of the street.
Cassy, Tonks, and Remus stood between numbers eleven and thirteen. On either side of them were number ten and fourteen. Remus shifted with some of Cassy's boxes, reaching deep within the pockets of his tattered jacket to hand her a scrap of paper. She took it and read the little, scrawling writing carefully. It read:
Twelve Grimmauld Place, London
Cassy blinked, only mildly surprised. There was a rumble as numbers eleven and thirteen became to move apart from one another, revealing more dull bricks and dirty windows. The curtains were drawn on each and every level, looking very much as if no one was home.
'My Grandmother's house. How wonderful,' she said lightly.
Tonks and Remus turned to her in surprise as Cassy scanned the front of the house, drinking in every detail. It had been many years since she had last visited. Not much looked different besides the poorer appearance of the curtains. The entrance had never been very inviting in her memory. The paint of the door had begun to chip and peel and the solid, silver door handle was tarnished, yet still clearly shaped like a viscous serpent. She had never expected to enter the house again and she had hardly considered once her father escaped that it might be a place he would run to.
'I thought you would have forgotten this by now. Your Grandmother died a decade ago, if I recall,' said Remus, moving towards the door.
Cassy was vaguely aware of the way Tonks' eye was trained on the back of Remus, drifting from his head downwards in absolutely no hurry.
'To be honest, I have only seen the front once or twice and that was when I was leaving, so I could naturally see it from that perspective. Usually, we would Floo in,' said Cassy, dragging her trunk up the steps with a great deal of effort.
'The Floo has long since been shut off and that works well enough for us. It's safer if people have to be invited in,' responded Remus. He kicked the door with his foot, unable to reach the doorbell with the boxes he held. 'I see why you two needed another pair of hands.'
Cassy chose not to mention that she would have taken less of her belongings if she had to carry it all herself; he had dug his own hole by offering.
The door opened suddenly. A tall, dark-skinned man stood there, looking down at the three of them critically. His clothing was of a fine material, dark blue in colour and of a slightly longer design. It suggested he had a wand hidden beneath his jacket, holstered at his hip like Cassy had seen Tonks do on several occasions. This man was most likely an Auror and a good one if his clothes reflected his pay packet.
'Kingsley,' greeted Remus.
'This is Cassy,' said Tonks brightly, nudging the younger girl in the back.
Kingsley nodded at her and a slow smile grew over his face. He moved to one side, allowing Remus through and Cassy followed close behind him. 'Welcome. My name is Kingsley Shaklebolt. Your father is most excited to see you. You do not look surprised that he is here, although you shouldn't have known. It's top secret.' He cast a pointed look towards Tonks, who threw up her hands in defence.
'I was not told, but I am not surprised,' she said peering around the entrance hall. 'I knew he had to be here, the only way to enter the ancestral home is with permission of its current owner and that is him.'
An immediate smell of must assaulted Cassy's nose. The air was thick with it, mingling with the damp and a faint scent of bacon. The gas lamps that lined the walls burnt lowly, illuminating the piles of books and cloths that were pushed towards each wall. A chair sat beneath the covered window, stacked high with dusty shoes, some of which appeared to be children's and others had been worn away, their delicate materials unable to withstand time. It was in desperate need of a clean and Cassy was resentfully aware that Tonks had not been joking when she said she would be cleaning the house during her stay.
The wall paper was heavily patterned. It was similar to her house in Canterbury, but darker and less inviting, merging into the dark floorboards and the heavy frames of each portrait that lined the wall. The paper peeled backwards, dotted with small black marks that riddled the house with the foul smell. High chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their glittering crystals dulled exponentially by the years of dust that clung to them. Once cleaned they would fetch a grand price.
'A word of caution, some things in the hall like to screech, so watch your noise,' murmured Remus.
Cassy peered at him curiously. 'I remember a fair few items that would curse you or bite if you let them close enough.'
'I think we have yet to find those,' said Shaklebolt, his voice deep and somewhat wary. 'Much has been moved since then, I expect.'
Cassy's eyes flick behind him at the large curtain that spanned almost from the ceiling to the floor, pooling one the ground. It was squared at the top and Cassy had the curious desire to pull the cloth off and see exactly what they were hiding. She had not memory of such a thing.
'Leave your stuff here. I'll take it upstairs. I'm sure Tonks can show you to the kitchen,' said Remus.
'I'll give you a hand,' offered Shaklebolt before Tonks' arm wrapped around Cassy's shoulder and guided her down the hall. Cassy heard Crin squawk in protest, followed by a sharp hiss of pain as he nipped at the fingers of whoever had tried to pick his cage up.
There was a door just behind the staircase, dark and almost invisible to the eye, had it not been for the handle protruding. The stairs descending were rickety, old and uneven from many more years of neglect that the rest of the house. The ceiling was low and lights were dim. There were no windows of any sort in the basement. Candles covered the sides, carefully floating above the stacks of rubbish and bursting boxes that littered the floors. Several people sat at the table. Many mugs were spread across it, almost all of the chairs were vacant. Several people ducked and gathered materials, moving them from one pile to another with no real sense of reason.
The step beneath Cassy creaked. Everyone turned and a mane of black hair suddenly appeared from behind the table.
Resentment flared violently and suddenly from the unknown depths of Cassy's stomach. This man was not who she should be seeing, who she had missed so feircely, this was her father, but not her father figure. This was the man who had the title when she had lost the man who had earnt it; it was terribly wrong to see him, he could not be what Alphard was – Cassy cut off her thoughts very suddenly. That was unfair; it was unfair to compare Sirius to Alphard. Guilt bubbled, as if her thoughts had tumbled out of her mouth, as though Sirius might have read her thoughts.
Where had that come from? She thought.
It was only worse when she saw his excited face. He opened his arms for a hug, before looking at his hands and wiping them quickly down on his trousers.
'Good morning,' she managed before he reached her.
He wrapped his arms around her tightly.
'Finally. It is good to see you again,' he said warmly.
Cassy almost felt sick with herself.
'Welcome to your ancestral home,' said Sirius monotonously.
Cassy laughed lowly. 'It is more dilapidated than I recall.'
'You should see how I remember it! If a single spoon was out of line you would be clouted,' he said. 'Of course, the crazy old bat would always know when you had moved something even an inch. The only enjoyably part of being here is the satisfaction of being able to throw everything she loved out. I was not sure if you would have been in the house or not, I knew you had met her, but I was uncertain if...'
'She would let me in? She was very reluctant, to my memory. I was hardly a welcomed guest and was told so on more than one occasion.' Her nose crinkled slightly at the thought of it.
Sirius wore an identical expression.
'Are you two sneering at each other, or...?' came Remus' voice from the staircase.
'Just sharing memories of my mother,' answered Sirius cheerfully.
Remus emitted a withered sigh. He stepped towards them with Shaklebolt following behind with a large grin. He asked, 'Again? That was almost the first thing you two said to one another when you met.'
'It's nice to have something common to bond over,' said Sirius airily.
'Is Kreacher still around?' questioned Cassy.
'Unfortunately,' said Sirius grimly. 'Whenever we try and clear up he takes things from the rubbish and he puts them back, or into his cupboard. It's a nightmare. We have two rooms completely cleared currently. One of them is yours, if you would like to see it.'
'Yes, okay,' said Cassy uncertainly.
He waved for her to follow him out of the kitchen and down the hall. They ascended the first flight of stairs and turned into an equally dark hall. The walls were still lined with stacks of books and the occasional silver plate or goblet. The floorboards creaked beneath their feet and the piles groaned, shifting precariously as they past.
'This was one of the guest rooms, so it was not so bad to clean. It was the first one I did, after one of the bathrooms, of course. There was a pack of pixies living beneath the bath over there,' rambled Sirius, pointing haphazardly to a door that was pushed to.
They passed several doors, each shut and some rumbling, until they came to one with more things stacked outside than any other. Sirius surveyed the mounds for a moment before admitting he had not considered moving the things he removed to a more convenient location. He had just been pleased to be finished and that was something she would quickly become accustomed to. While Cassy did her best to hide her lack of enthusiasm, her father turned to her with a wide grin and laughed to himself. She was unable to catch exactly what he muttered, but it sounded suspiciously like 'you are in for a treat'.
He pushed open the door and waved his arm for her to enter. Slowly, but curiously, Cassy poked her head inside for only a second before her eyes were are wide as saucers and her mouth opened with a thousand words on her lips.
'It's beautiful,' she breathed. While she had expected the same scruffy appearance of the rest of the house, only cleaner, but what she received in reality was very different. The walls were pale blue from ceiling to floor, with a white picture rail running high on the wall. It was filled with large, dark furnishings, old and ornate, managing somehow not to blend well into the large room. The floor was bare and stained and at the very end of the room was an old fireplace, much like she suspected the rest of the rooms to have. Her hands ran over the golden bedding on the double bed and down towards the trunk at the foot of it.
'I just painted it really. I thought blue would be better than the green, pealing wallpaper,' said Sirius, remaining in the doorway. 'I moved some of the furniture from other rooms too, but most of what you see was in here. It just needed a clean.'
Cassy peered up at the chandelier fixed on the high ceiling.
'Do you... do you like it?' he asked hesitantly and Cassy was inwardly shocked at the tone.
She turned and smiled softly. 'It is wonderful, thank-you. You really did not need to put so much effort in.'
'I wanted you to feel welcome and... I thought it might be nice to have a place to go to by yourself when you want to be alone,' he said quietly.
Stunned, Cassy stared at him. Her eyes softened further. He understood. Her father understood exactly how she felt; he knew of her desire to be alone, to vanish from the world and the eyes of everyone it it in an instant, unforeseeable and unpredictably. The guilt in her stomach moved up to grip her heart tightly.
'Thank-you,' she said quietly, trying her hardest not to mumble it.
He smiled at her and clapped his hand on her shoulder. He said, 'It's fine. All I had to do was buy some paint, the paper was so old that it hardly required any effort to tear down. I just... I'm glad you like it.'
The walls were a shade lighter than her childhood room, it was close enough for her mind though. Everything else was terribly wrong. The vast walls lacked her photographs and the pictures she had pinned up through the years that Draco had drawn her. The bookcase beside the fireplace was empty, not overflowing with books she had sneaked out of Alphard's study and off various shelves of the house. None of the many items Cassy had collected over the years cluttered the mantle. Traitorously, a part of her mind was all ready planning where she could place everything from her boxes.
Suddenly, the change of accommodation did not seem so temporary.
'It means a lot to me,' said Cassy weakly. Yet a large part of her wished he had not bothered at all.
He smiled, 'I will leave you to unpack. Join us in the kitchen when you are done, if you want.'
She nodded and he vanished around the corner. Quickly, she sunk down onto the springy bed, her legs unable to hold her. Her hand flew to her mouth and she breathed deeply, trying to calm her churning insides. Roughly, her free hand dug into the thin material of her skirt. She groaned, rubbing the palms of her hands into her eyes.
'How awful of me,' she grumbled.
Jumping up with more energy that she felt, Cassy strode over to the boxes that Remus and Shaklebolt had brought up. Tearing open the smallest, she extracted the little purple plant she had salvaged from home and placed it on the mantle, before adding the clown with the droopy legs she had received several years ago from Narcissa. She stared at it, considering putting it away again, but she had become accustomed to seeing it, no matter where it came from.
It was odd, thought Cassy as she unpacked, that she would bring so many items to a place she considered temporary. It was as if she was reluctant to part with any of it, just in case she did not have the option to return for it again. Frowning at her own thoughts, she placed the carved dog her father had brought her the previous year on the opposite end of the mantle. Her arms fell back to her side.
'Now I have gone and depressed myself even further,' she sighed. She moved away from the boxes and with it the desire to curl up on the bed until the feeling past. Instead, she ambled downstairs, taking a moment to poke her head into any and all unlocked rooms on the way. The bathroom was spacious and somewhat clean, if only liveable. Plum and Kitsy would have fainted with the state of it and Cassy filed the thought away, reminding herself to suggest their assistance to her father.
Most of the bedrooms were locked, although the occasional cupboard was open, packed with objects that clattered and spilled out into the hall each time she opened one. After she had gathered up the collection in the third cupboard for the second time – it had collapsed immediately after she had crammed it back in – she slammed it shut and considered containing her curiosity for places she new would not cause hassle.
The kitchen was emptier when she ducked back into it. Only Sirius, Remus, and Tonks remained, chatting over a cup of tea at the cluttered table.
'There she is,' said Tonks brightly. 'You will have to show me your room before I go.'
'Yes, sure,' said Cassy taking the seat beside her, opposite her father.
'Hang on, let me get you a cup of tea. Sirius was just making breakfast when we came in. Do you want some?'
'I am fine, thank-you,' said Cassy. She looked between Sirius and Remus. 'So, what has been going on with the Order then, how busy is Headquarters normally?'
'Empty,' said Sirius sharply. 'People come and go, but they rarely stay for long at all.'
'We all live busy lives and there are quite a few of us, but you will pick up on names soon enough,' said Remus, calmly brushing Sirius aside.
'So meetings and things are infrequent?' she asked.
'You will not be in on those. They are for Order members only,' said Remus sharply.
Cassy waved her hand dismissively. She had heard that before and had no interest in listening to the conditions again. Lazily, she looked at Tonks as she set the frying-pan alight. Remus rushed up to help, while Sirius watched curiously from his seat.
'She does that a lot. You will get used to it,' said Cassy quietly.
Sirius' eyebrows raised a little higher and it looked as though he was on the verge of smiling.
Cassy thought of Crin upstairs. He had probably made himself comfortable on her wardrobe by then, but she had a letter she needed to write and it needed to be sent soon. It was vital, she reasoned, that she sent it regardless of her restrictions on post. She needed to tell Hermione to spend the summer with her family and decline any invitation to stay at Grimmauld place. It was quiet and empty, dirty and cluttered. There was no vital information to be immediately acquired. It would be slow and required tact. Hermione had best spend her summer with her family, where she would be happy and relaxed, not pent up in a dark house, unable to even stand in the garden in fear of attack. There was nothing for her here.
Congrats on the end of your finals, Clueless, who requested I updated today! (Totally didn't mean to wish you a happy birthday, haha)
So, Cassy has entered Grimmauld place with no love for it. She's terribly conflicted over Sirius, unsure of what to do and how to act with him. I think Sirius would understand loss with all he has been through both before and during the war and would just get it. I don't, however, think he would know what to do with a teenage daughter, so I like to think they would both be as awkward as each other, haha.
Anyway, thank-you everyone for all of the reviews, favourites, and follows! It means a lot to me. To those of you who celebrate Christmas, Merry Christmas, and to those who don't I wish you happy holidays. I will update sometime before the New Year.
Thanks!