Treasa stifled a yawn as she waited on the front stoop of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Trust Dumbledore to choose a daybreak meeting in the one week she was working the graveyard shift. Her body was not adjusting well to the different hours, and by this, the third night, she was getting more than a little tired of Lockhart's night terrors. After two hours of holding a mirror to prove to Lockhart that his hair was just as "divine" as ever, she needed coffee – preferably overflowing with cream and sugar. If Molly had not thought to provide more than pumpkin juice, Treasa didn't think she should be held accountable for her actions.
A crack behind her alerted her to the presence of another Order member. She turned to find Emmeline Vance calmly brushing off her stately Muggle blouse and skirt.
"Good morning, Treasa," Emmeline said brightly. "Lovely day, don't you think? The sunrise was breathtaking."
Treasa made a miserable attempt to straighten her Lockhart-frazzled hair at the sight of Emmeline's pristine coif, nodding in what she hoped translated to polite agreement. She officially hated morning people – herself included. The next person to look that cheery before 6:30 a.m. deserved her eternal disdain.
The door opened just as another crack brought the next member to the front walk. Arthur Weasley smiled in greeting and put a finger to his lips as he stood aside to allow them to enter. Treasa nodded and stepped over the threshold. Merlin knew she had no desire for conversation anyway, much less a diatribe from that horrid, frightening portrait.
The group filed into the kitchen where the Weasley children and Hermione Granger were finishing breakfast. Molly hovered nearby, ready to whisk their plates away and shoo them out of the kitchen as soon as the last bite was taken. Treasa slumped into a chair next to Ginny and let her head loll onto the table.
"Odd," George said around a bite of toast. "I had you pegged as an early riser – and I'm hardly ever wrong. You were definitely in the 5:45 to 6:15 range."
"If you dunna want to be hexed into absolute oblivion, you'll be silent –right now." Treasa mumbled, her brogue thicker than it had been in months.
Ginny brightened immediately. "Oh, do go on, George. I'd dearly love some new hexes."
Treasa was spared the effort of making herself come up with an interesting hex by the arrival of a cup of black coffee at her elbow. She looked up to see Molly's concerned face.
"Looking a bit peaky this morning, dearie," Molly said, patting her shoulder. "Are you alright?"
"Mmmhhmmm," Treasa mumbled, inhaling the pungent fumes of the brew. She would definitely need cream and sugar if she planned on drinking something this strong. "Working the night shifts at St. Mungo's this week."
Molly tsked comfortingly and bustled away to greet the other Order members. Treasa looked up just in time to see Fred cast a whispered Stretching Charm on the collective plates. Ron's was still nearly a quarter full, due no doubt to the sleep still weighing at his eyes, but the other four plates' meager portions spread to fill half the space.
"Honestly, Fred, she'll just take it from you regardless," Hermione said reprovingly, pushing her plate aside. "We'll know when we're ready to know. We're too young to be in the Order anyway."
"You are, maybe, but we're not," Fred countered. "We've been of age for ages –"
"Or at least months," George added.
"So you mustn't lump us in with your little underage club," Fred said, elbowing Ron. "The three of you can go play Exploding Snap or find some cleaning to do if you're so keen to be thrown out."
Treasa shook her head and staggered to her feet, more interested in getting to drink her coffee than the twins' machinations. She saw Molly coming back and, imagining the fight that would ensue, took pity on her and her own aching head. She slid her wand from her sleeve and cast a quick Shrinking Spell on the plates, reducing the food to a few barely visible crumbs. The frustrated grumbling reached her ears just as the clatter of plates signified Molly's victory.
The cream and sugar were on the sideboard, next to the silver carafe that held the rest of the coffee. Treasa reached for the sugar bowl, forcing herself not to simply dump the whole thing into the cup. As she lifted the spoon, someone bumped into her from behind, spilling sugar crystals on the soiled doilies.
"Pardon," came a most unwanted voice.
She turned to face Severus, who was calmly reaching for the carafe to pour his own cup.
"Do you take delight in goading me?" she snapped under her breath, forcing herself not to Summon the cup out of his hand as he started pouring.
"No," Severus said with infuriating poise. "I was merely apologizing for an error. I was not aware that fell under the heading of 'goading.'"
"Honestly, Severus –"
She broke off as the twins edged past, eyeing the two of them with extreme interest. It had taken a bribe of all her medical potions knowledge to keep the boys quiet about what they had overheard, but she didn't trust them to not take an opportunity to goad their Potions Master.
"Yes, Ms. Shannon?" Severus calmly took a sip of the coffee, not even grimacing at the strength of the brew.
She opened her mouth, then found herself distracted by the heavy circles under his eyes. He had gotten little sleep, if any. He'd probably been skipping meals, too – typical behavior when he was deeply involved in potion work.
He was still looking at her expectantly. Treasa set her jaw, angry at herself for falling prey to old habits. "I'll need some basic healing potions – Pepper-Up, Blood-Replenishers, Burning Bitterroot. The Order has none I'd trust to be used. I don't have a potions laboratory of my own just yet, so I must either rely on your expertise or your knowledge of where I might obtain a cauldron and supplies."
Was it her imagination, or did he flinch slightly? Treasa rolled her eyes and focused on pouring the cream into her cup. It was these blasted late hours – they were clouding her judgment. The next time a Healer asked to switch schedules, she'd politely refuse.
"I am certain a house such as this has potion-making supplies," Severus said stiffly, downing another gulp. "Why don't you ask Black? I'm sure he'd be more than happy to oblige – and at the moment I have more pressing matters to worry about than basic potions."
"Good morning, Treasa."
Sirius' cheerful voice made both of them start. He stepped to Treasa's right, edging a little closer when he saw Snape's loathing expression. "Bit early for an Order meeting, isn't it?"
Treasa smiled and raised her coffee. "Bit late for me – I've been at St. Mungo's all night and ought to be home napping."
"Well, then, I admire your fortitude in coming," Sirius said, giving her a smile of approval that warmed her heart. "That takes true devotion." He leaned in conspiratorially, "Are you sure you aren't a Gryffindor?"
"I believe her sufficiently intelligent to recall which House she was in, Black," Snape interjected heavily, "which places her above the mental realm of a Gryffindor."
"Shows how little Slytherins know, Snivelly," Sirius retorted.
Treasa had the distinct impression someone should step between them before they resorted to a duel. She sipped her coffee and casually stepped past both of them toward the table.
"Tell me, Sirius, does this house have a potions laboratory in the basement?"
Reluctantly, Sirius turned away from Severus and met her eyes. "I believe so, though no one's used it in well over a decade. After the meeting, what say you and I go explore it?"
Severus' mouth tightened and he stalked away. Treasa wanted to laugh, but Dumbledore's entrance brought a sudden hush on the room, reminding everyone of the message that had summoned them. Sirius' charm turned off like a switch.
"How's Harry? What have you learned? When are we getting him out of there?" The questions came rapid fire as Sirius strode toward Dumbledore.
"Patience, Sirius," Dumbledore said calmly, motioning everyone to sit. "Harry is fine. He repelled the Dementors admirably - a fully corporeal Patronus, according to the Ministry report."
The room erupted into excited whispers. Treasa slid into a seat between Minerva and Bill Weasley, catching Minerva's proud nod of approval. Dumbledore held up a hand to silence them.
"At the moment, the ministry has suspended his expulsion pending a hearing later this month. I daresay the extra time will allow some at the Ministry to regain cooler heads. Regardless, the Minister was not happy that I came to interfere. He's more certain than he was in June that I'm attempting to stir up public opinion against him so that I can become minister."
A muffled snort came from both Sirius and Severus, a happening which seemed to startle them both. Treasa hid a smile in her coffee cup. They were such children.
"At the moment, however, our concern is getting Harry out of Little Whinging. The attack proves that even with guards, he's at too great a risk to remain there."
"Where is Mundungus, anyway?" Sirius asked darkly. "I'd like a word with him."
Treasa had the feeling she'd missed something along the way as heads all around her nodded. Even Bill Weasley, who had attended fewer meetings than she, looked slightly murderous at the mention of the name.
"It will do no good to dwell on the mistakes of last night," Dumbledore said seriously.
"That's not what he said last night," Bill muttered, turning to look at McGonagall over Treasa's head.
Minerva nodded. She caught Treasa's questioning look and leaned forward to whisper, "Mundungus Fletcher was supposed to be guarding Harry. He left just before the dementors arrived. Albus nearly shouted himself hoarse over it."
Treasa winced at the idea, returning her attention to the talk around her. Sirius was all for storming the Muggle house and taking Harry immediately. Emmeline Vance suggested sending Harry a Portkey via owl. Bill offered to simply pick Harry up by Muggle car and drive him to London.
"We'll have to provide the boy more protection than that," Moody interrupted gruffly. "If we can ensure the Muggles will be gone, best thing to do would be to send a detachment to fly him back."
There was a nod of agreement from Dumbledore. "We'll need a reason for the Dursleys to be from home."
"If we could tell them they've won a prize of some kind…" suggested the young Auror with the bright pink hair.
"They'd buy that," volunteered Arthur. "They're rather gullible, these Muggles."
"Very well. Tonks, you may be in charge of coming up with the ruse. Alastor, will you lead the group to Little Whinging?" Dumbledore asked.
Moody grunted in agreement. There was an instant clamor of volunteers from all sides of the table. Sirius leapt to his feet and leaned over the table at Moody, shouting, "Merlin's beard, he's my godson, of course I'm going!"
"You're cracked if you think I'm letting you out of this house to tempt the Death Eaters and the Ministry. Constant vigilance!" Moody growled back, waving a hand at the others. "Alright, pipe down, the lot of you. I'll choose who is to go after I've thought it over."
"Severus, is there anything you can tell us about this attack?" Dumbledore asked.
Severus placed his now-empty coffee cup on the table and leaned forward. "It was the result of the combined efforts of the Death Eaters and those within the Ministry. It was suggested by a Death Eater, but there are those in the Ministry who were more than willing to accept the idea."
"Such as?" Dumbledore asked quickly.
For a moment, Snape's brow knit in confusion. Then his face settled into its usual calm mask. "I have not been given specific names as yet."
Dumbledore nodded in understanding. Treasa thought Severus looked slightly disconcerted, but he continued with his report.
"It is expected that several high-ranking Ministry officials will continue to block any efforts instigated by Dumbledore or his known confederates, so those who work within the Ministry," Severus paused to glance at Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley," should be even more vigilant that they are not discovered.
"As of yet, I do not know if there are Death Eaters stationed in or around Little Whinging, though I think it unlikely at the moment. However, I would suggest removing Potter sooner rather than later –"
Severus broke off, his right hand twitching over his left forearm. He cast a glance at Dumbledore, who nodded.
"Thank you, Severus. Now, Kingsley, before we adjourn to discuss the details of the plan, can you tell us more about the search for Sirius?"
Treasa didn't hear a word of Kingsley's report. Her eyes remained on Severus. His face was still masked, but there was an air of reluctance about him, his hand now clutching at his arm. She knew the signs all too well. The Dark Lord was summoning him. After several long moments, he shoved his chair back and withdrew from the room.
Treasa's gaze flicked to Sirius. He noted his antagonist's exit with a slight grin, but kept his attention mostly on Shacklebolt, who was informing them that he had hit on Tibet as the ideal location for Sirius' supposed hiding place.
"I still say he won't be coming with me," Moody growled. "There will be danger enough without bringing along a convicted felon!"
"If you think you can make me stay –" Sirius began.
"The final decision will be Alastor's and you will all abide by it," Dumbledore said sharply, his eyes wandering toward the door through which Severus had disappeared. "Whoever wants to be included in the mission may let Alastor know as soon as the meeting is adjourned. Is there anything else of urgency to be discussed this morning?"
The silence around the table was answer enough. Dumbledore nodded and stepped away. Minerva and Bill immediately jumped from their seats and headed toward Moody. Treasa kept her eyes on Dumbledore, who edged toward the door and peered into the hall before sighing and moving toward the sideboard. Severus must have gone.
She didn't notice Sirius until he sank into Bill's seat.
"Dumbledore is determined to keep me useless, I see," he said with a forced laugh.
"Not useless," Treasa consoled, casting about for something of more substance to say. "After all, if it were not for you, the Order would have no headquarters."
His mouth tightened. "Yes, I should request an Order of Merlin for that bit of help. As it is, I shall have excellent skills as a house elf if ever this war ends."
Treasa chuckled. "Wouldn't you say that cleaning this house is a bit like fighting in the war? You've already sustained some injuries."
"Mended by your capable hands," said Sirius with a mock-bow. He raised her coffee cup. "Shall I refresh this or let you go home and get some rest?"
Treasa hesitated for a moment. It was obvious her mind was in sore need of some rest – her interactions with Severus were proof enough of that. On the other hand… here before her was a charming man who obviously wished to spend more time with her. Perhaps this would be the best thing to drive the phantoms of her marriage from her mind.
She nodded. Sirius grinned and hastened away. The seats on either side of her were instantly claimed by Fred and George.
"Need us to distract Sirius for you, Treasa?" George asked.
"We can, you know – just give us the nod," Fred echoed. "You looked a bit cornered just now."
She shook her head. "Thank you, boys, but I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Sirius and I have a potions laboratory to set up."
"When it's set up, you'll show us those Blood-Replenishing ingredients, right?" Fred asked anxiously. "We'll need them before we head back to school."
Treasa nodded. "Now get on with you. I'll not be showing you anything today."
George looked over at Sirius, who had just turned back toward the table. "Remember – just give us the nod."
She shooed them away with a laugh as Sirius returned. He handed her the cup and stood with an obvious air of anticipation as she took a sip. It was just the right temperature, but a bit sweet for her taste. She swallowed and gave a nod.
"Perfect."