C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

Chapter V: Fred and George's Extendable Ears

Boxes were piled high, unlabelled and over filled. It was almost as if someone had begun clearing a decade ago and gave up soon after, resorting to careless jumbles of objects in box after box and between carefully wrapped and sorted boxes; clearly they had the intention of going somewhere and it was these boxes that Cassy always had more of an interest in. They usually had the most obscure and questionable items within. Although, Cassy was always careful to handle everything with thick gloves covering her hands. The summer heat made it almost unbearable, but after watching Mundungus Fletcher almost dragged backwards into a stuff cupboard by a long, thin tentacle, bruising and swelling his exposed leg, the Weasley children had ceased their jokes about it and had scavenged their own pairs too.

Cassy pushed the box of hissing goblets further under the table in favour of sorting through old, unfinished portraits that had been stuffed behind a lavish, if sun-bleached, sofa. She turned, her hand resting on the half dropped face of a particularly mean-spirited man, it was easy to tell what he would have said to her if he had ever been completed and she was very relieved he had not been, given he seemed to be holding a sketched severed head of some kind of beast.

Mrs Weasley looked down at her from the doorway and smiled.

'Cassy, dear, can you go and fetch Fred and George to get their coats from the kitchen? It's almost lunch and they're in the way. I would do it myself, but there is a particularly nasty doxy nest in one of the bedrooms, Ron was bitten last night all over his toes! Anyway, please tell them to retrieve their things manually. They need to stop trying to fix all their problems with magic,' she said, her voice growing increasingly exasperated at the end.

'Of course, Mrs Weasley,' said Cassy, dusting off her gloves.

'Thank-you, dear,' she said brightly and bustled back down the hall.

Throwing her gloves down on top of the busy table, that grunted and stomped its bowed, carved legs in protest, Cassy ambled from the room. Thuds and clanks had sounded overhead not long ago and so it was inevitable the twins were in their room, as far away from cleaning as possible without their mother catching them.

There was a faint scratching from within. Immediately, it was silenced as Cassy's loud knock echoed down the empty hall. She knocked again, before twisting the handle and pushing forcefully against the door. There was no lock on their door, Sirius had been unable to find the key, and hoards of collected Black Family memorabilia clattered noisily across the wooden floor as she knocked down their makeshift barrier. With one hand on her hip and the other leaning on the door, Cassy surveyed the mess; cauldrons out, boxes and bottles littered the floor, and the air held a faint medicinal smell.

Fred stared up at Cassy from where he sat cross-legged on the floor, but she was looking past him towards George. He was lying on the floor, an abundance of blankets beneath him and a pillow under his head. It looked as though he was peacefully sleeping.

'I knew siblings could only happily exist for so long, you forced it and you finally killed your twin,' said Cassy, skimming her eyes over the notepad in Fred's hands. She took a seat on the bed behind him, idly searching George for abnormalities.

'Not quite, but he seems to have caught something from handling one of those tapestries, a nasty headache,' said Fred. He hand slipped slowly down to his side and he tucked the notebook beneath him.

'And how does lying on the hard floor help that?' she asked.

'Er – I'm not sure. We found it out when we were kids, George always used to get migraines, you see. It is one of those things,' shrugged Fred. He stared at her and Cassy stared back, her eyes half-lidded.

'If he caught anything from this house,' said Cassy after a pause, 'I should inform your mother. He will probably die.'

'No, no,' he said quickly.

'Oh, yes, I think I best get your mother from downstairs,' said Cassy, standing.

'He's fine!'

'Anyone who sleeps willingly on the floor is not fine,' said Cassy resolutely. 'He must be dying.'

Fred leapt to his feet and hauled her back towards the bed. He dropped her sitting on there and hovered in front of her, his face close to hers and his hands clamped tightly on her shoulders. Quietly, he spoke, his face strangely serious, but Cassy stared up with a face of shock.

'Look, we're testing some products that we want to sell. They're called "Fainting Fancies" - at least, that's what we were thinking of. We were going to include them in the Skiving Snackboxes we are designing, courtesy of your suggestion last year,' he explained.

Cassy's face slipped from shocked to utterly pleased. A large grin spread across her face and Fred stared indignantly for a moment before snorting.

'You were never going to tell mum were you?' he said, slumping back down to collect his notepad from the floor.

'I was,' she said casually. 'I was also going to keep mentioning things to her until the pair of you crumbled and told me what you were planning. Although, it was not difficult to assume it was for your joke shop.'

Fred turned to her in surprise. The amused expression he had worn at her explanation fell.

'How do you know about that?' he asked quickly.

'Harry mentioned to me that he gave you his Triwizard Tournament winnings,' she said.

'Does anyone else know?'

'Not to my knowledge.'

'Good,' said Fred with a large exhale. 'It will ruin the surprise and if it ever got out to mum...'

Cassy laughed. She peered back down at George, who had not moved an inch during all of their conversation.

'Should he still be on the ground?' she questioned curiously.

'Er – well, the cancellation sweet we had designed wasn't quite powerful enough to bring him back round, but I can't give him another one because some of the stuff in the prototype is not good for people in large quantities. He'll wake up soon though, the dose wasn't that high, we didn't want to end up killing the first years,' he said, scratching the back of his head.

With raised eyebrows, Cassy exited the room after telling him of his mother's message. As soon as she was out the door, there was a pop that let her know he had apparated down to the kitchen against his mother's wishes, but as Cassy could hear her muffled complaints down the hall as she went to return to what would be Ginny's room, she knew Mrs Weasley would never know.

The room was not the largest, but it only made it more difficult to clean. There was barely any room to manoeuvre and although a pathway had been cleared to the bed, neither Mr nor Mrs Weasley had been comfortable with allowing Ginny to sleep somewhere so crowded and in a room with many possible inhabitants. The previous night had been spent sharing Cassy's room and although Cassy had sent Kitsy to help clean, he had spent more time bickering with Kreacher than anything else.

'Stupid house-elf, unworthy of the Black family, of cleaning the Mistress' boots,' grumbled Kreacher as he dragged a blanket piled with items from the room Cassy had been about to enter. Without taking a step close, she could hear the low growl of Kitsy.

'How can Kreacher say Kitsy is not worthy, when Kitsy has also served the Black family his entire life? Kreacher was never kind to Kitsy, not even when Kitsy was only up to his mother's elbow. Uncle Kreacher never liked his nephews much,' he grumbled, making sure to slam items into the bin bags more violently than before.

'Ignore him, Kitsy,' said Cassy calmly. 'Kreacher is unwell.'

'Oh, no, Mistress. Kreacher has been mad ever since Kitsy's mother got her head mounted on the wall before he did!' said Kitsy firmly, shaking his head.

Cassy did not entirely understand house-elf relations, or sometimes hardly that of her own family, so she declined to comment further. Softly, she heard Ron mutter 'they're all bloody deranged' as he passed with a spray-bottle in hand, which she ignored in favour of eyeing his hair critically.

'I see you got the slime of of your hair then?' she commented.

'Yeah, it wasn't too bad. It only took about three washes, but Ginny's having much more trouble. She's still in the bathroom. Damn spitting plants,' he said with a sigh. His hand had automatically reached for his hair and it lingered there long after he had finished speaking. His eyes darted around the hall, his lips slowly inward as he licked them.

'Hey, Cassy,' he said slowly.

'Yes?' she prompted.

'Do you... nevermind.' He shrugged and turned to move away.

'Do I what?' she said with a frown.

He turned back to her with a matching one of his own and his voice dropped, 'Do you ever wonder if You-Know-Who is really back?'

Cassy stared for a moment. 'You doubt Harry? You think he would have made something like that up?'

'No, no,' he exclaimed, holding his hands up in surrender. 'I never meant that! I just mean that, well, with how it happened – no witnesses and during a Tournament where he wasn't supposed to be in it anyway... don't you sometimes think people are going to doubt him? The papers are writing things about how he's a raving lunatic and how Dumbledore has lost touch... and that's all people have to go on, the word of Dumbledore. I know that if Dumbledore is making a move then it has to be true and Harry's faced You-Know-Who before and saved my sister, so I don't think he is lying at all, but... some people will.'

Cassy considered him for a time. What he had said was very true and she had thought it herself. There was no reason for the world to trust the words of a teenage boy, one who had been reported to have entered himself into a dangerous tournament. He might have brought back a body, but it was one from the centre of a deadly stunt, made to test the capabilities of those who entered; everyone knew it had death plastered all across it. Cedric Diggory could have died in many ways and Harry could easily have been so shocked by what he saw that he mistakenly thought whatever creature had been lurking in the darkest corner of the maze had been Voldemort, the man who haunted the supposed dreams of his parents in Rita Skeeter's less than flattering articles. No one had reason to believe him and many would not want to try to find one. Peace was favourable to war and many of those who had lived it the first time would not be eager to think it again returning.

'I find it undeniable that Voldemort has returned,' she ignored his flinch and continued in a placid expression. 'After the Philosopher's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets, I cannot deny that it is possible for him to rise again. Once dead, a man should remain so, not living like a parasite from another man's head, or as a physical manifestation of teenage memories, draining the life from others. He is holding on somehow and I do not need Harry to convince me he has returned.

'It will mean a lot for Harry if you support him. He all ready fears that he is not being taken seriously with the secrecy of this Order. Please try not to express doubt to him. I fear he will not take it well.'

Ron slowly nodded and pursed his lips.

'I believe him and so does Dean, but I was writing to Seamus over the holiday and he doesn't at all. It's his mum telling him he isn't back. We all believe him, but not Percy – he left when we started to be watched. Fudge offered him a promotion to work as his personal assistant,' he said sullenly.

Cassy was only mildly surprised. She had expected the Weasleys to be closer than that.

There was an angry hiss from behind her. Ginny had exited the bathroom, her wet hair tied in a tight bun on the back of her head.

'Dad said it was to spy on the family, that was the only reason he had been promoted,' she growled.

'Percy said that was a load of rubbish. He blamed Dad for the family being... a little hard up sometimes. He said he should have tried to progress, but he got himself stuck where he is,' continued Ron.

'Which is a load of rubbish, Dad just loves muggles,' said Ginny, scowling.

'Percy packed his bags and hasn't come back since. We haven't heard anything off him. He doesn't want to associate with people who allied themselves with Dumbledore,' finished Ron quietly. 'Mum's distraught, so we don't mention him if we can help it.'

'I just assumed he was working,' said Cassy. She looked between the two scowling red-heads and then back down the hall where she knew Mrs Weasley was cleaning. There was still a quiet banging and the sharp hiss of disinfectant that signalled she had not heard a word of what they had said.

As Cassy gazed down the hall thoughtfully, Ginny had had a concern of her own.

'Have you heard of anything while you have been here?' she asked, her voice hushed.

'Probably not much more than you did last night,' said Cassy honestly. 'There was only one formal meeting since I have been here, although people drop in frequently. My father mentioned the meeting intended for today has been moved to tomorrow. Apparently, the Headmaster had some important meeting to attend at the Ministry today and he was unsure when he would return.'

'So we have to wait another day for information then,' said Ron morosely. 'I'm dying to know what's going on. Mum and Dad won't give a knut away -'

'And with good reason!' came Mrs Weasley's shrill voice from behind. Everyone turned and she stood with her hands on her hips. 'You have no business knowing, you are too young and you three should be cleaning, not standing here chatting about things beyond your years.'

Cassy flatly thought she would cope very fine actually, but she just turned away and went back into the bedroom she had been attempted to clean half-an-hour earlier. There was little desire within her to argue with Mrs Weasley. It would achieve nothing and Cassy was all ready intending to reply on her father for information. Grumbling, Ron and Ginny followed her in. Although Ron was supposed to be helping his mother in his room, she did not seem to care where he ended up, so long as he was cleaning something somewhere. They listened to her shuffle back into the other room.

'See? She's not going to let us know anything at all, unless we find out for ourselves,' said Ginny, shifting to dislodge the large pile of papers on the table.

There was a pop from the corner of the room.

'I see George has recovered from his headache,' said Cassy conversationally, not looking up from the box she was rummaging through.

'Much better,' replied Fred. 'Anyway, we couldn't help overhearing that delightful conversation you three had with our mother.'

'We think we might have a solution to the information issue,' added George, grinning widely.

'But we have a slight issue: Mum expects us to have made a good start on one of the rooms upstairs and quite honestly, we haven't touched it,' said Fred.

'So, we propose that we will share our eavesdropping technique with you - ' began George.

'If you three make a start on the room upstairs so we have time to make them,' finished Fred.

Ron frowned, his nose crinkling as he said, 'I don't see why we should do your chores because you've goofed off all morning.'

'Then, little brother, you will miss out on the meeting tomorrow and we shall tell you nothing,' said George cheerfully.

'How much of a start is a start?' asked Cassy, folding her arms across her chest. While she could rely on her father, she needed to know what he was telling her was true and it was ample. For all she knew, he could be attempting to pacify her with small bits off unimportant information. Besides, Cassy had always liked doing her own dirty work.

'Just enough to make it look like we've tried,' said George.

'Move stuff around, shove it all into bags and put it in the hall, whatever you like, just make it look like we actually went in there,' shrugged Fred. 'We're not fussy.'

Cassy, Ginny, and Ron all looked between one another and then nodded. Cassy and Ginny agreed to help Ron upstairs once they were done in Ginny's potential room, as it was slightly more pressing and Mrs Weasley would be far less impressed with the two of them failing to complete that than she would be surprised that Fred and George had not done their chores. They had cleared the second nest of beetles, ones large enough to fill a jam jar, when Ginny struck up an unexpected conversation.

'Michael Conner asked me out,' she said suddenly.

Cassy looked up in surprise. She had forgot about Ginny's date with Conner, filing it away under unimportant information in light of everything else that had happened last year. Still, she smiled at her.

'When did that happen then?' she asked.

'The end of last year, just before the holidays began,' replied Ginny cheerfully.

'You left that a while to inform me,' said Cassy playfully, but Ginny winced slightly.

'Well, just with everything else that happened, I didn't want to seem like I was bragging. Not when everyone had gone through something so terrible that year, but me.' Ginny frowned down at the sheets in her hands.

'Sometimes it is nice to hear happy news,' said Cassy placidly. Internally, she was quite thrilled for her friend and found herself smiling at her with no ulterior motive than simply being pleased for her.

The spoke about it for a while, until Sirius called up the stairs for lunch. They entered the kitchen before anyone else, watching Mrs Weasley and Sirius grimace and sneer at one another behind the other's back.

'That sounds wonderful, Molly,' said Sirius, too jovially to appear even remotely genuine.

'Well, I thought it might liven up the place a bit if we can get the Drawing Room cleared we can sit and have nice gatherings in there, a bit of natural light,' she said back, not acknowledging his plain distaste at having to enter the Drawing Room.

The radio continued to sound in the background of the meal, despite Mrs Weasley's request to have it turned off. There was rarely a time it did not play nowadays. Since Cassy had first put it in the kitchen, she had not had the heart to take it back. Her father was always beside it, listening in to the news and humming to the songs that were played repeatedly through the day. She thought it might make him feel connected to the outside world, no longer relying on strangers strolling through his front door to inform him of any possible attacks. He was always listening carefully, even to the most mundane of things.

Mundungus Fletcher joined them briefly for lunch. He spoke merrily to Fred, George and Ron, once Cassy thought to introduce everyone to him; Mrs Weasley did not seem like she appreciated it very much. Fletcher made a questionable living from petty crimes, but he knew his way around London and he was good at finding information simply because of how unassuming her was and the amalgamation of social groups that formed beneath the law. He was useful, although not wholly reliable, often appearing later than wanted and with various stolen good to deposit in the house to add to the mess. Sirius quite enjoyed his stories though and the boys were roaring with laughter over lunch, before he excused himself to exchange for the watch.

What Cassy had appreciated most in the time she had spent with her father before the Weasleys came to stay, was his complete lack of motivation to make her clean any more than he was. With his enthusiasm for the house so low as it was, he had no drive to uproot old memories and Cassy had never been ushered from one room to another with a duster in hand if she had not wanted to be.

As it was, Mrs Weasley was quite determined to keep them busy. From lunch through to dinner, the teens were to clean. Cassy loathed it silently, spending more time rummaging than actually clearing and allowing her house-elves to follow around after her, complaining and scolding her for having stuck her hands in such dirty boxes at all. She had never seen Ron quite so happy when she entered the room her was cleaning for Fred and George with them trailing in behind Ginny.

It was only after dinner that they were allowed to retreat to their own devices. Cassy had ushered everyone into her room, handing Ron the mirror. He stared blankly at it for a moment, until Harry's face appeared instead of his own.

'Oh, bloody hell. This is good, isn't it?' exclaimed Ron in shock.

Harry was soon enticed into a lengthy conversation with the Weasleys. As they had not heard all of his stories before, he was able to complain about the Dursleys and his glum summer all over again. Fred and George offered to send him some things to sort out his cousin and while Harry declined, Cassy could almost envision the large grin on his face as he did from where she sat at her desk.

Everyone took turns explaining again and again how slow and terrible it was, how they had known of nothing and were still being kept in the dark. Cassy was confident it would do something to ease his bitter mood, although in the back of her mind she could still hear him complaining about being alone and there was nothing she could do to fix that beyond urge the Order of the Phoenix to take him in. After her tantrum yesterday, she did not think Professor Dumbledore would be particularly open to negotiate with her.

At the end of the long conversation, everyone turned to Cassy, marvelling and wondering were the two-way mirrors came from. She grinned mischievously for a moment, then looked between them seriously. They could not tell anyone of the mirror, she stressed, it was her only way to communicate freely with Harry. If anyone found out they might take it from her to prevent the passing of information, or worse, assume it might fall into the wrong hands and thus was a danger. Everyone nodded quickly and quickly agreed to secrecy, on the condition they could use it when they pleased.

Cassy hummed non-comitantly.

The following day passed much the same. Time was wrapped up in mindless cleaning, which seemed to make little to no difference and by the end of the day Cassy was certain, as she looked around the room she had spent the day confined in, that their efforts had simply made more of a mess.

Cassy had spent as much time as she could looting rooms of their old photographs, although Wulburga seemed to be lacking in the sentiment. Some of them she had seen before in her great aunt Cassiopeia's house following her death. She kept slipping them into her pocket, or back into her room when no one was watching her, much in the same way she caught Fred and George stashing beetle shells and spider eggs away when their mother was facing the other way.

Dinner had almost arrived when the portrait of the deceased matron began to scream, she cursed and wailed, eventually giving way to the curtains hurriedly drawn across her frame. Tonks winked up at Cassy as she entered; Moody nodded to her; Kingsley appraised the students in turn; Professor Dumbledore smiled up at them, and a whole bundle of strangers tumbled in after them. Amongst the rabble, the very last to arrive, was Mrs Longbottom and Neville.

Neville beamed when he saw them, bidding his grandmother farewell and racing up to the landing to greet everyone in turn. Cassy was quickly squashed against him and Ginny had her turn next, returning the hug just as forcefully. Ron clapped his shoulder and the twins nodded. Then, Neville suddenly frowned.

'Is Harry not here?' he asked.

'They're keeping him locked up with his relatives' answered Ginny.

Neville frowned deep and cast a knowing glance at Cassy, who merely tensed her eyes. He caught the gesture, his expression growing grimmer. Neville was no more fond of Harry's relatives than she was.

Everyone allowed Mrs Weasley to usher them down the hall. As soon as she descended to the kitchen, they were all at the railings of the stairs again. Hurriedly, Fred and George extracted long, fleshy coils of tube from their pocket, holding one out for Cassy, who took it gingerly, before scampering up to their own landing above. They did not give a reason, but Cassy thought it might be that if anyone happened to emerge, they would be out of sight long before the four on the floor below.

Reluctantly, Cassy placed the tube near her ear and Neville, Ginny, and Ron battled for the best position to listen in too. Heads clacked together and Cassy waved her hand impatiently as sound began to channel up the tube.

' - A few people who are keeping tabs on the lower Auror members. I am certain I know who they are, but they seem unaware of me. I have found no one tailing me like the others,' came Kingsley's deep voice.

'There seems to be no signs of active recruitment though,' said Tonks lightly. 'No one being tailed has been approached from what I know and the person following me to and from work on odd days has never approached me. Occasionally, I have to pretend to be Cassy and leave the house like that. It stops him following me and prevents the Ministry from realising she isn't there.'

Cassy quirked an eyebrow at the idea of Tonks gallivanting around London as herself.

'We have been trying to test who would be good to try and persuade, but it is difficult with Tonks being followed as she is. We think we have a few though.'

'It's more important that you two stay hidden than recruiting members right now,' said Moody in a gruff voice. 'It'll be much harder to keep an eye on things if we lose two of our eyes. How are things on your end, Arthur?'

'Reasonably. I am still under observation most of the time, but a lot of the people in the office seem to take no notice of it. If they do, they seem annoyed by the Ministry, so they're doing us a favour,' stated Mr Weasley, sounding quite pleased.

'It's not going to be easy in the Ministry at the moment for anyone, especially not to gather new members. Fudge is terrified and on high alert. The search for you, Sirius, has been increased you know. I am on new orders to track you down by any means and no longer on friendly terms,' said Kingsley seriously. 'The measures we have been issues as means to bring you are not negotiable either.'

'Oh? So, the time of wanting me to have a trial are over then?' asked Sirius, not sounding at all surprised. 'I suppose it is because he wants to show he is still racking in the criminals, despite what is said to be going on.'

'That's terrible,' came a witches voice Cassy did not recognise. 'He knows you're innocent, he saw the entire thing!'

'Yes, but the rest of the country doesn't know that, do they? People will surely back Fudge if he is seen to be dealing with such a problem,' said Sirius bitterly.

Cassy scowled at the news. She was not surprised though. After Fudge had failed to offer her father a better deal than a cell in Azkaban as he talked in Professor Dumbledore's office on the night of the revelation, Cassy had not faith in the man to have any fairness over his own popularity. He could have gone to the press, for the word of respected teachers and the Minister of Magic would surely be enough to ensure fair treatment to see Sirius to trial. Fudge had no sense beyond his own preservation.

'I have told him you might be in Tibet,' said Kingsley.

'At least I have managed to convince a new bank worker of the cause. I believe Dumbledore all ready knows her, her name is Fluer Delacour,' chimed Bill.

'Delacour?' mouthed Cassy.

Ron nodded faintly, his eyes all ready becoming misty, while Ginny screwed up her nose.

'The two have been talking a lot. She is improoving 'er Eenglish,' muttered Ginny.

'She seems interested, especially after being a Champion herself. She says there is no way that Cedric died and Harry lied about it. She is quite fond of Harry,' continued Bill.

I bet she is, thought Cassy, Harry offered to fight off a hoard of merpeople to rescue her sister last year. It was the sort of offer than instantly made someone popular; in this case, it was not a bad thing. They needed all the help they could get and if the Triwizard Cup had chosen Fluer Delacour as the most worthy Beauxbatons student, then she must have some brain and skill behind her.

The meeting devolved into theoretical murmurings after that. There was a few cases of the known Death Eaters acting perfectly ordinarily, occasionally stepping out unexpectedly, but always returning shortly after with no sign of nervousness or anger. There was nothing to suggest they had been meeting and none of the times of these disappearances matches enough to think that they had.

Their voices faded out and there was the low scraping back of a seat. Professor Dumbledore's voice rang out through the kitchen, thanking them all for coming and dismissing the meeting at last.

Quickly, the fleshy tubes were wretched upwards. Everyone hurried down the landings. Cassy, Neville, Ginny, and Ron stuffed into her room and the tube was thrown under the bed. They took up seats around, launching into a conversation quickly as the door opened and Mrs Weasley popped her smiling head inside.

'Dinner will only be in a minute now, so come down down,' she said. She ducked back out of the room and presumably to inform Fred and George.

'This room is nice,' praised Neville, inspecting it thoroughly.

'It is mine,' said Cassy redundantly as she stood. She looked at Ginny. 'Those inventions of your brothers feel like I was squeezing someone's earlobe.'

'They are great, whatever they are,' said Ginny with a grin.

At the table, sat Sirius, Remus, Mr Weasley, Moody, Kingsley, and Tonks with drinks in their hands and cutlery set in front of them. Many plates were lined across the kitchen counter and Mrs Weasley was all ready busy beginning to dish out the dozens of pots and pans of food onto each.

Tonks waved Cassy over into the spare seat beside her. On her other side was Remus and beside him was Sirius. More importantly, opposite her was Moody. Getting straight to the point, Cassy levelled her eyes with his.

'Moody, do you mind if I ask you some questions about something I read?' she said conversationally.

'Go ahead,' he said with genuine interest.

Folding her arms on the table top, she asked, 'I was reading about spells that do not produce a visible force, such as the Cruciatus, or Imperious curses. With them and others, is there a way to block or detect when they are coming? When done in conjunction with non-verbal incantations, it would be impossible until they have struck.'

Moody was leaning forward across the table after her first sentence, listening intently as Mrs Weasley chocked on her tea off to the side of the room. Sirius and Tonks also appeared to have a great interest in the answer, while Remus muttered something criticising what types of books she had been allowed to read, but also turned to listen.

'Well,' said Moody severely, his hands moving as he spoke, 'the best you can hope for is to keep moving. If you move, then you are a lot more difficult to hit. Some have tell tale signs once you have been hit, like the infamous Black Ice curse, named so because you can't see it in action. It will make your skin burn so intensely that it can be nothing else. Then, you should burn your own flesh to prevent it spreading - '

'That is quite enough over dinner! No one is burning their anything off,' interjected Mrs Weasley sharply.

'It's important she knows if she wants to stay alive,' responded Moody. 'It is great that she is so interested. This one is likely to live!'

Despite the disappointment Cassy felt at having the conversation cut short as Mrs Weasley and Bill set the dishes on the table, she fell quiet. Small pockets of conversation broke out on every side and it was then, when her father and Remus appeared to be bickering about something, that Cassy renewed her questioning. As the conversation progressed, the tone got darker and considerably more violent as Kingsley joined in with his own experiences as an Auror and Tonks, Remus, and Sirius told their own war stories. As it progressed closer to death each time as they each subconsciously tried to outdo one another with their tales, dinner was forgotten.

Moody produced the best ones. He explained how he lost a chunk from his nose, explained of deep blackened scars on his back, stretching from his shoulder-blades to the dip of his spine.

It was loudly announced not to be an appropriate topic for dinner. With half of the table engaged in the gruesome story sharing, it did eventually meet Mrs Weasley's ears and even Mr Weasley agreed with her that it should be something for another time.

'Or never,' muttered Mrs Weasley under her breath as she cleaned up the dishes and attempted to send the five children to their rooms to settle before bed in a few hours. Naturally, they piled back into Cassy's room until they were evicted at ten. They talked to Harry once more and discussed the little they had heard at the meeting with him. He wanted to know why the need for Sirius' hunt was present at all, indignant that Fudge would continue it when he knew he was innocent.

'Fudge has to appear to be trying to clear the streets,' said Cassy, far out of his line of vision as she sat at her desk as the Weasley children were all piled on her bed. 'Furthermore, he needs to capture him to give him this supposed trial he deserves.'

'He just wants to throw him in Azkaban to bolster his own publicity again,' Harry had replied grimly.

Cassy thought he was quite right, but it was a dangerous line of thought to go along right then. The last thing she needed was him to become too concerned with his Godfather's well-being; it would only serve to make him more stir-crazy than he all ready was, anxious enough to be involved that he had admitted considered simply catching the train and forcing someone to drag him back to his relatives house. At least then, he had said, someone would have to admit they were near and probably bring him to her if he threatened to do it again. While she had warned him sternly against it, Cassy could not help but think it sounded like something she would do; the two of them had dangerously similar veins of thought on occasion.

When everyone had retired to their own rooms, Cassy found the house to be uncomfortably quiet. Silence had always been a relief to her, never too fond of crowds or socialising beyond the initial purpose. Her friends were elite and few in number, the closest of whom she nearly always enjoyed the company of – excluding the select few moments her mind would begin to ache, or her anger to flare. As it was, there was a slight emptiness. The solitude she craved all summer had given way to the bizarre desire for company. Her own thoughts echoed dismally in the silence, only accompanied by the slow ticking of the clock fastened high above the fireplace.

Restlessly, she rose from her bed. A thin dressing gown was wrapped around her as her feet tucked into the slippers that sat neatly at her beside table each night. A long candlestick was plucked from beside her, lit with the strike of a match before she even considered leaving her bedroom. Cassy remembered her first evening in the house of her ancestors and she had little desire to wander blindly through the shrinking mounds of rubbish that lined the halls again, lest she bump into something more sinister than Kreacher; something that was creating the low scratching through the wall cavities perhaps.

The hall was empty. A faint snore sounded from the room opposite where Ron slept, but there was no crinkle or clinking of bags and cutlery; there was no sound of Kreacher rummaging late at night as usual. Cassy assumed he must be upstairs or down in the kitchen, tucked into his tiny cupboard where he slept on the rare occasion he was not scavenging.

Portraits muttered to themselves as she crept along the landing and down the stairs. Her grandmother's portrait was silent, yet surely only dormant, waiting for the slightest sound to set off her caterwaul screams once more.

If Kreacher was in his cupboard, Cassy saw no sign of him. She partly wanted to poke her head in and take a look at the family treasures he had surely hoarded, but she did not think the Weasley's would be nearly as understanding of her wanderings as he father had been. He did not emerge as she boiled the kettle and made herself a mug of hot chocolate. Spiders rose to join her though, crawling slowly across the yellowed walls, emerging from beneath the cabinets at the promise of not being squashed between a dozen feet for the first time in hours.

Cassy climbed back up the stairs with her candle and cocoa. At the top, she paused, turning her head to the opposite side of the staircase, the part that lead away from her room and towards the singular door that had always been closed.

It was unlocked. She slipped into the large room, larger by far than any other she had seen in the house. A grand fireplace sat against the farthest internal wall, flanked by two towering glass door cabinets. Bottles glistened in the faint candlelight, her tiny flame was scarcely enough to illuminate the barest of shapes and mounds of the decorative furniture. Cassy wandered forward carefully, passing the items on the ground with as little disruption as possible. There was a shattering moan from within the dark bureau in the corner, not unlike the groan of the cabinet Professor Lupin had carted into his classroom two years prior. Other life seemed to be breeding within the curtains, their movements giving the fabric a life of its own and the promise of vicious trouble if she was to step too near.

The cabinet held what appeared to be various snake skins and glass bottles of deep red – blood, she concluded, morbidly unsurprised. There was little boxes and figurines too, yet the flame reflecting on the glass made them difficult to discern entirely and Cassy forced herself to move away as one of the tiny silver heads turned to look at her.

The candle and mug were placed on the low table between the two ornate sofas. She doubled back around to the right wall, ripping open the least crawling curtain. A dozen Doxys scattered into the air, shrieking as they beat their thin wings and shook their extra limbs in protest as they sought cover in the other dark corners of the room. A great yellowed light shone in from the street. The lamppost on the other side of the road breathed an artificial light inside as it did for Cassy's room next door. The moon shone down in the clear night sky, casting great crossed shadows across the bare floors and up and onto the tapestry behind.

The entire wall opposite was covered in a dark green fabric. Names were littered from the ceiling to a foot from the floor. Little embroideries were made, connecting the lines of relations and descent through the whole of their traceable seven centuries. Oddly, or not as Cassy soon decided, there was burn marks littered through the names. She followed the names of Pollux and Cassiopeia over to the burn beside them. Marius had surely been there at one point, their brother the men of the Black family had struggled to identify in Cassiopeia's photographs after her death years ago.

Beside Marius' name was 'Dorea Black' and a thin line leading to 'Charlus Potter'. Cassy stared in only mild surprise. It was no secret that the Potter family had been well respected, so surely their paths had crossed at some point. The line beneath announced they had had one son together before Dorea's early death in 1977. She wondered what relation that made them to Harry, how closely they were related to him and if perhaps they had been the aunt and uncle to his father, cousins, or further relations, unknown to James at all in anything but name.

She traced the tree down again. Between Wulburga and Cygnus was a burnt patch where 'Alphard' should have been written. Alphard had always admitted that he and his sister did not always see eye to eye, that she had cursed him in anger more than once, but they still spoke until her death. Cassy's fingers lingered on the mark.

Down from him was Regulus and yet another burn. Surely where her father had once been.

'You do not sleep much, do you?'

Cassy jumped in surprise. Her head shot towards the doorway and her hand fell from the tapestry.

Crossing the gloomy room to her was her father. Sirius was still dressed in his day clothes, his hair unruffled by any effort to fall asleep.

'Most teenagers struggle to wake and you are always up. It's not natural,' he said, looking down at her with no attention to the tapestry.

'I am not tired. It is only twelve,' she said plainly.

'Half twelve,' he responded pedantically. 'Well, at least that's normal, although I think Molly will have something to say if she caught you wandering so late. She keeps her children on a tight schedule.'

'What she does not know will not hurt her,' said Cassy. She looked back at the tapestry, allowing her eyes to drift no farther down than Sirius' name. She knew she would not be on there, there would be no point even looking. To the side, she spotted Draco and Narcissa and she briefly wondered if her father would mind if she sliced their names off in a spiteful bout of rage.

'I was never allowed in here as a child,' she admitted quietly. 'I was to sit in the kitchen on the odd occasion I was left here when Alphard had work.'

'I still cannot believe he thought that was a good idea at all. I would not have let you within fifty-foot of my mother,' said Sirius. His hand slowly rose to the spot where Alphard's name should have been, much like Cassy had down moments earlier. 'He was the only one in the family I ever really liked, beside Andromeda, of course. He joked and rarely got angry, not like my parents. He had the time for me that they did not and he would always listen to my ideas, even though they were so stupid back then. You can't understand the relief I felt knowing you had been taken in by him. I worried all the time, you know, I worried that my stupid temper had landed you with my mother, or in a home... although that would be the kinder of the two.

'I had hoped that I could meet him again one day, that I could thank him, but... that depended if I was ever going to be cleared and with the way Fudge is trying to reel me in, I doubt he will allow that to happen.'

Cassy could think of nothing reasonable to respond to that. There was a pinch of relief within a barrel of guilt inside of her. Her childhood had been spent assuming this man beside her cared nothing for her, that he had thought nothing of it when she had been born - the whispers of her insecurities of not having a father growing up – that he had left her to alone while he mindlessly killed thirteen people – the echo of the other children's taunts that he did not want her ringing loudly as she aged. She was the bastard child, the half-blood carelessly born and unwanted, kept only because her mother was mad and it was his duty by law.

Yet it was not that. She had seen him concerned over the past two years, but it was something else to hear him say it.

Before she could smiled with uncharacteristic warmth, Cassy pointed to the Potters on the wall.

'Who are they?' she asked.

Sirius looked with renewed attention. 'As far as I am aware, they were James' aunt and uncle. Charlus Potter was James' dad's younger brother, by quite a bit, I think. I never met them, but James mentioned them once or twice. James' parent's were old and had him in old age even for wizarding standards, but they died around the same time as Dorea here, the same year James and Lily got married actually, before they even knew Harry was going to be born. There was nothing sinister about their deaths, they were just older, but it tore James apart.'

There was something about the shine of Sirius' eyes that made Cassy step away. She told him to wait there as she strode quickly from the room. It had not been on her agenda to do what she was about to, but the ghosts in his eyes, the familiar warmth and simultaneous chill made her reach for her bedside draw.

When she returned, Sirius was sitting on one of the uncomfortable sofas, looking quite bemused. Cassy moved to sit beside him and held out a small stack of photographs. Gingerly, he took them, halting almost immediately as he caught sight of the one on top.

'Where did you get these?' he breathed.

'From the loft at Alphard's,' she said quietly. She waited for a sign that he was pleased, but he sat in silence, a hand raised to cover his mouth.

For a time he sat, staring at the smiling faces of the two young children, before flicking through the rest of the stack. Once the photograph was back on top, he smiled lopsidedly.

'Did you know, this was the second time you and Harry ever met?' he asked and Cassy silently shook her head. 'I first took you to see when after everything was settled and I got custody, it took a couple of months, but Lily was really excited to meet you. She said you were incredibly clever for your age, not that you ever listened to what I said. Harry liked you immediately too. He sent you running straight into my legs when you arrived, charging at you from the kitchen. You were not so happy about it, but he was only trying to say hello. He could not speak that well, it was a bit before his first birthday.' Sirius' eyes had become very bright. 'You two eventually made peace after he tried to take your cracker you had hid with your stuffed bear. You gave him one from my pocket – you had a tendency to hide everything and move it to where you wanted. It would drive me crazy because I would never hear you do it, you were so quiet all the time. I thought there might be something wrong, but that was just the way you were. You were just a bit picky on what you wanted to talk about.'

Cassy smiled at him when he turned to her, a sort of half-grin pulling at his tired face, making it brighter, more youthful in an instant, yet somehow his eyes were older.

'Anyway, this is from Harry's first birthday. It was the last time I got to see him before they moved house. The Secret Keeper had to be changed because I knew Voldemort suspected me. It was just us, James, Lily, and Harry. He always wanted to go where you did and you kept looking at me with a frown, as if asking who this boy thought he was following you around! He gave you that Snitch and James was so excited. He said Harry would certainly be a seeker, he cheered so loudly at the prospect. He would be proud, so, so, proud.' His hand reached up to cover his eyes. 'There is not a single day I let myself forget that memory. It was supposed to be the start of something great, the wonderful beginning to the rest of our lives, but it was the last time I ever saw them alive.'

There was a sniff and Cassy thought for a second that he might have begun crying, but the hand moved from his eyes and although his eyes shimmered, he was smiling.

'I know I am not Alphard. I can never be what he was. It is far too late for that, but I... I never expected to be a good father, I did not have a clue what to do, my own parents being hardly parents at all. I would always panic when you vanished and you did that a lot, even though we lived in an apartment. You usually had climbed in something, or overturned something and crawled beneath that. Yet, I always found you happy and healthy, if somewhat annoyed I had disturbed you. James once suggested I buy you a lead.'

Cassy laughed quietly and Sirius huffed one of his own.

'In my room, I have a photograph of Alphard and you when you must have been about my age. Do you mind if I keep that one?' she asked.

'Go ahead,' he said. His eyes were still fixated on the photograph in front of him. 'I miss him too, Alphard, I mean. He was the closest thing I had to a father figure until I was fifteen and my world opened up. He taught me a lot.'

Cassy's smile became pinched, forced as she wanted to frown at the memory of him. Instead, she sat in silence for a while, observing her father rake his eyes over each and every detail of the following photos, the ones of Lily and James, of him and Remus, the final one of all of the Marauders together by the lake. Finally, she stood and bid him goodnight. If it was not for the mumbled reply, she would have thought he had not heard her.

I hope everyone had a good holiday. I have a ton of work to do, so my updating is remaining a little slow. I will try and pick up the pace next month, but I should post another chapter at New Year.

Harry will arrive soon, so we can get out of the house and onto Hogwarts!

I appreciate all the reviews so far.

Thanks!