Updated, as promised! Please note I made a few slight changes to what was already posted - nothing major, just detail stuff.
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"Sirius, won't you sit down? That's not helping them get here any faster."
Treasa stepped back to avoid his sharp turn and the tray of tarts in her hands tilted ominously. Her quick shift to the left kept them from spilling over the side, but her attempt to move forward was thwarted again as Sirius passed, muttering under his breath and apparently unaware of her presence.
"…go down to Hogwarts myself… Bring Remus along – he'd like a chance to get at Umbridge… if Dung let her harm so much as a…"
Sirius was pacing in a tight, elliptical course punctuated by impatient flicks of his head that shook the hair out of his face and reminded Treasa irresistibly of a dog awaiting a treat. It was amusing, but he'd been at it since noon, and her patience was beginning to wear thin.
"Sirius," she tried again, darting past him and setting the tarts on the end of the table. "If you don't get out of the way, I'm going to lock you in your room till after the meeting so you won't be able to hear Mundungus's report at all."
That got his attention. He froze mid-stride and rotated on his heel to face her. His woebegone expression banished most of her annoyance at once.
"You know I wouldn't. But –"she crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows in her best impression of her mother's scolding stance. "I suggest you find somewhere else to do your pacing."
She moved toward the counter where the freshly washed cups sat waiting, but Sirius waved his wand and sent them floating gracefully toward the table, landing in a neatly stacked pyramid next to the jugs of pumpkin juice and cider she'd already placed there.
"Or I could make myself useful," Sirius said with his quicksilver smile, the dark cloud lifting from his forehead. "I apologize, Treasa. I'm a right fool when it comes to Harry's safety."
"I suppose I'll have to forgive you, then. Being a good godfather trumps being a helpful host." She pushed a cheese tray into his hands and nudged him toward the table. "Won't be long now."
The message from Mundungus had been irritatingly vague. He'd sent an owl stating he had news about Harry and thought everyone should be aware of the developments. Treasa thought it most likely that Mundungus was milking his position as Hogsmeade spy, but the look on Sirius' face as he read the parchment had sealed her lips. He'd waffled between bombastic assurances that Harry could handle himself and pacing and muttering to himself about sneaking out of the house for the last 24 hours. If his concern hadn't been so genuine, she would have banished him to the third floor hours ago.
The fire flamed green as Minerva McGonagall stepped through, followed in quick succession by Emmeline Vance, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Dedalus Diggle. Questions were already spewing out of Sirius' mouth as he stepped forward, blocking the newcomers' path into the room. Treasa brushed the remaining crumbs from her robes and headed toward the front door, stifling a smile as Minerva's stern voice cut across Sirius' questioning.
"The boy's alive and in good health, Sirius. Apart from that, you know as much as I."
A soft knock drew Treasa's attention, and she hurried down the hall to open the door to Bill Weasley, who was accompanied by his parents and Hestia Jones. Mrs. Black was silent as they eased down the hallway toward the kitchen, but as Treasa turned to smile and nod at Molly, a gust of wind through the square caught the door from her grasp so it flew back against the wall with a resounding thud that immediately set the old woman to screeching.
"Silencio!"
Treasa shot the spell directly at Mrs. Black's open mouth, and found a wry pleasure when the stream of invectives ceased instantly. Severus, who apparently had been standing on the stoop, shut the door with a silence that was annoyingly complete. She pursed her lips and nodded her thanks. His expression, predictably, did not change.
There was an impatient rap on the door. Treasa opened it, her eyes still on Severus, who had yet to move toward the kitchen. Mundungus shifted through the opening quickly, reaching to help shut the door.
As he did so, Severus brushed past them both, heading for the door next to Mrs. Black that led down to the basement. Treasa whipped her head around just in time to see his robe disappearing through the entry.
"I'll just be getting on in, then," Mundungus said, edging down the hallway.
Treasa nodded, eyes skipping past Mrs. Black's wildly gesticulating portrait toward the door Severus had disappeared through.
"They're waiting for you."
"Dumbledore here yet?"
"What?" Treasa turned back to Mundungus, forcing her attention back to him. The thief seemed nervous, hands fiddling with his pockets, feet shifting in different directions. "Oh, no, Dumbledore's not here. Sirius is anxious to see you , though."
Mundungus frowned. "I think I left something back down the alley. D'you mind if I just slip back out and get it?"
He was gone before Treasa had a chance to respond. With a faint smile at the thought of Mundungus daring to face up to Sirius alone, she turned toward the basement door.
Severus was rifling through the bottles on the far wall. He spun around at the sound of her footstep, fingers closing around a vial of Strengthening Solution.
"What in Merlin's beard?"
He seemed startled, a fact that surprised her more than his snooping. She took a closer look. In the few days since she'd last seen him, his face had become drawn and greyer than usual. His robes were rumpled, and his hands stained with ink and various hues of juice. Something had happened.
"Why is it that you've so much Strengthening Solution and only two vials of Blood-Replenisher?" Severus snapped, tossing the vial at her contemptuously. "Dumbledore asked me to check your stores in case anything was needed –"
"Like fun he did," Treasa interrupted, snatching the vial from the air instinctively. Perhaps irritation sharpened her reflexes.
Severus kept speaking as if she hadn't interrupted. His gaze wandered over the shelves, looking anywhere but at her."- and I find it woefully lacking. This isn't a potion collection for St. Mungo's Incurable ward, you know. We're preparing for battle, not a rest home."
Treasa eyed him for a moment, then chose the direct route. "What's happened, Severus? Are you injured? Has You-Know-Who done something…"
Severus snorted. "No, and we can all be thankful for that, because with these potions, any victims would die, unless the Dark Lord chose to cast some muscle-wasting spell."
Treasa stalked to the cabinet lining the left wall of the room and tapped it with her wand, murmuring the password to the lock on its handles. The shelves inside were lined two rows deep with bottles. "I've been through the entire St. Mungo's potionbook – even the specialty anti-venoms we created for known poisoners. I've got two bottles of Spattergroit vaccine, for Merlin's sake. Now are you going to tell me what this is all about?"
Severus strode over to glare down his nose at the bottles. "I told you. Dumbledore told me to be sure you were fulfilling your duties now that you have better access to your potions laboratory. He seemed concerned you might lose focus, considering the company you find yourself in."
"Well, seeing as how you told him our little secret, that shouldn't concern him any longer."
"It is not for me to tell Dumbledore what should or should not concern him," Severus said coolly, settling his robes across his shoulders. "Now I know you've adequately prepared, I can report as much to him."
The dismissive gesture was so familiar that Treasa half-drew back, stung. When Severus made to stride past her, however, she stood her ground.
"Something's worrying you, Severus. I want to know what it is."
His lip curled. "You're better off not knowing – the lot of you."
It was a foolishly unguarded thing to say, and she could tell he realized his mistake. She searched his face again, looking for any signs of physical injury or illness. Nothing presented itself except the dark smudges under his eyes that were standard fare for Severus.
"Something's keeping you from your sleep. Is it that Umbridge woman?" Treasa asked, keeping her voice clinical. "Sirius and Remus have told me enough about her to make me think she could make anyone sick."
His laugh was harsh, but not entirely mirthless. "If you insist on creating imaginary maladies for me, by all means, assign Umbridge as the culprit. Though while you're at it, you should blame Potter, Black, and Dumbledore, too. Their contributions shouldn't be overlooked. It might lead to a misdiagnosis."
She blinked. That acerbic wit had once been commonplace – back when they were no more than teenagers and she had deluded herself into thinking his flashes of non-hostility meant there was a chance at a non-combative relationship.
Severus took advantage of her momentary distraction to step around her to the stairwell. He spoke without turning his head. "Dumbledore insisted we all come to this meeting. I imagine you wouldn't want Black to find us alone down here, so perhaps we should rejoin the others."
Even his jab about Sirius was lacking its usual venom. Whatever had Severus so engrossed, she doubted very much it meant anything good.
Severus and Treasa paused in the hall outside the kitchen. Dumbledore had arrived, and Mundungus mysteriously re-appeared, sitting close to Dumbledore on the opposite side from Sirius, his shifty eyes darting at Black as if he expected physical injury. Despite the obvious stress in his appearance, Dung was managing to tell the story in his typical jocular fashion.
"And then Granger gets up, she does, and says they're all there so's Harry can teach them about Defense Against the Dark Arts, only Harry looks like he's ready to turn tail and run."
Severus touched her sleeve and motioned interrogatively toward the doorway. She nodded him forward, stepping back a step to allow him time to find a seat before entering herself. She'd spotted a seat next to Molly and had barely settled in when Molly grabbed her arm and leaned over for a tense whisper.
"The children are trying to go against Umbridge. What are they thinking? Do they realize what it would mean if they were expelled? And Ron so close to his OWLs – if he doesn't get a chance to take them, he'll end up being a stock boy in Florian Fortesque's his whole life."
Bill leaned in from her other side and grinned, "I think Ron wouldn't mind that too much."
"So then they all signs the paper," Mundungus concluded. "And I reckon if Umbridge is half as keen as she is ugly, she'll know about it before they ever get to meet."
"Dumbledore, you have to tell them to stop!" Molly insisted immediately. "You're the headmaster, they'll listen to you."
Dumbledore was sitting back in his chair, fingers steepled, considering. Minerva spoke up from further down the table.
"Much as I commend Hermione Granger's resourcefulness, in this instance – don't you think it would be dangerous to let them proceed, Albus?"
"We do have a war going on, do we not?" It was Hestia Jones, who was leaning forward, elbows braced on the table. "I, for one, would rather the children learned to defend themselves in case You-Know-Who comes calling."
Kingsley countered. "And if they are expelled, You-Know-Who has a clearer shot at them. Even he wouldn't dare attack Hogwarts, but we know he can and will attack individual families."
The talk continued around the table. It seemed the Order was split almost equally on the subject – though the louder contingent was definitely on the side of allowing the children to continue. Treasa eyed Sirius, who was positively jovial in his relief and was pronouncing his firm support of their plan.
"It's exactly the sort of thing James and I would have done in this situation."
"You two would have found some more glamorous style of rebellion that would have gotten you expelled if you were in this situation," Minerva said tartly.
Sirius merely shrugged and chuckled. Molly tsked, turning to Treasa, Bill and Arthur for support. Arthur put his arm around her and whispered in her ear. Treasa considered for a moment, then leaned forward toward the center of the group.
"The main issue here is secrecy, correct? None of us would worry about them simply practicing defensive magic if we weren't concerned about the Ministry's reaction." There was a murmur of assent. "So if they find a secret place to practice, there's nothing for us to do but keep their secret. If they can't find a place, then the problem will resolve itself."
Molly seemed ready to protest, but Dumbledore was nodding. "We will do nothing at present. They are within their rights to form, and within their rights to practice defensive magic outside of class."
"But if Dolores Umbridge finds out –" Molly croaked.
"Then the staff at Hogwarts will take action as we see fit," Dumbledore said kindly. "You've always put your trust in us before, Molly." She pursed her lips, but Dumbledore continued without allowing more discussion. "Hestia, I believe you said you have a report to give."
Hestia nodded, pulling out a short piece of parchment with scrawlings on it. "I've been tailing Dorian Avery for the last two weeks, and he is definitely recruiting people in Knockturn Alley. He's also been quite interested in people who have access to the Department of Mysteries, so we need to keep our guard there strong. He's been talking to the families of several Unspeakables – Bode, Ganfield, Tarantine. I think he's looking for things he can use as leverage to get them to break into the department for him. Oh-" her pink cheeks flushed deeper rose. "And I think he might have noticed me last week."
The reaction around the table was immediate. Kingsley and Tonks both leaned forward to question Hestia. The murmur of frightened voices made individual questions hard to distinguish. Treasa, however, was looking for Severus. He was sitting in the corner, his face half-hidden in the shadows cast by the candle in the wall sconce above him. He would have more information to give on this than any of them.
Dumbledore apparently had the same idea. "Severus, have you heard of any plans against Hestia?"
"Avery hasn't said anything to me about it."
Hestia practically collapsed in relief. "I've been so anxious!"
She seemed about to wave away Kingsley and Tonks' suggestions, when Severus spoke again.
"Whether or not he has said anything to me is no indication of your safety. The Death Eaters are aware of the Order and are doing their best to track Order members down, just as you are attempting to do with them. Don't be fooled into thinking any one of you is truly safe."
The dark mood remained for the rest of the meeting, which was brief. Kingsley announced that the Floo Network was instating rolling checks – ostensibly to lower illegal usage of the network, but both he and Tonks thought it more likely Fudge was trying to catch Dumbledore and his associates in something that could be brought before the Wizengamot.
"I have a contact in the network who told me he will keep me apprised of the schedule so we can try to use it when it's safe," Kingsley concluded. "But I know they wanted to begin tonight, so those who came by Floo should choose a different method of getting home. We don't want this location showing up on any network logs."
The members left in pairs and trios, making plans for escorting one another home to ensure no one made the journey alone. Severus and Minerva went with Hestia and Emmeline, who had come alone; Kingsley and Tonks escorted Dedalus before returning to the Auror office. Molly refused to leave to relieve Mad-Eye of guard duty until Sirius promised to relay her displeasure to Ron, Harry and Hermione when next they spoke.
The inhabitants of 12 Grimmauld Place fell into an uneasy rhythm over the following days. Sirius was thrilled that Harry was doing something proactive, but more and more fell into dreary fits as he compared it to his own inactivity. Remus, on the other hand, spent most of his time planning for his monthly trip away from the house. He tried to contact different packs of werewolves in rotation, talking to them in the hours before the transformation, leading them farther away from humans to try and protect intended victims. Treasa did not envy him his job, but found a certain kinship with Sirius when it came to jealousy of his activity. Her main concern was for the well-being of the Order members who were actively tailing Death Eaters. Hestia Jones made a point of stopping by headquarters with a report every few days, and the others checked in at least once a week. For a mediwitch, it was a savage waiting game.
Halloween was fast approaching, and Treasa was intent on doing her part to ease some of the tension for them all. She'd given Tonks the job of inviting as many of the Order as she could to a Halloween dinner at headquarters, and so far most of the non-Hogwarts contingent of the Order seemed to be planning on attending. The professors, of course, would be at the Hogwarts banquet, a fact that had considerably warmed Sirius to the idea. Tonks, too, seemed inordinately excited about the party, dropping by almost daily with updates on who was attending and bringing supplies from Diagon Alley.
"Molly says she'll come tomorrow just after lunch to help with the cooking," Tonks informed Treasa on October 30th, edging through the door with a tottering pile of boxes from Honeyduke's and Madam Malkin's.
Treasa nudged the door closed as she reached for a few of the boxes, but Remus appeared at her shoulder, lifting half the pile from Tonks' arms. Pink suffused the Auror's cheeks, but she turned quickly to Treasa, focusing for a moment before transforming her features into an almost frighteningly accurate rendition of Mrs. Black.
"I thought I'd let the others pick over what Madam Malkin sent for costumes," she said. "I think I've got mine picked out."
Treasa eyed her for a moment, casting a swift glance at Remus, who had paused on his way to the dining room at the mention of a costume. He was chuckling, but gave no indication he would come back to talk to Tonks, just as she gave no indication her morphing features had been to hide a blush. Had Treasa imagined it?
"Not the most fetching concept," she said, loudly enough for Remus to hear. "But I think you could make even our dear Mrs. Black pleasant to –"
There was a pounding knock on the door, which swung inward with the force of the blows. The real Mrs. Black set up a wail as Tonks' features melted back to normal and she whipped around, wand at the ready. Emmeline Vance stood on the stoop, supporting the limp body of Hestia Jones.
*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#
"Lay her down on the settee," Treasa commanded in the ringing tone she'd developed for medical crises.
Tonks and Lupin, who had taken Hestia from Emmeline, complied as Treasa opened the drawing room curtains to let in some of the mid-afternoon sunshine. Hestia's skin was pearlescent blue with a sheen of sweat. Her eyes had rolled back and her breathing was a horribly labored gasp. Treasa waved her wand to begin the diagnostic spells, noting vaguely that Mrs. Black's noise had subsided. Sirius must have dealt with her. Emmeline cringed by the doorway, her hair falling from its elegant knot, her face as pale as Hestia's.
"What happened?" Treasa rapped out, noting the lack of bleeding wounds and moving on to internal checks. Sirius appeared in the doorway.
"She drank this," Emmeline took a vial from inside her robes, fumbling it precariously.
"Sirius," Treasa jerked her head toward the bottle, still focusing on Hestia. "Poison, then?"
"But it's just tea!" Emmeline protested as she gave it to him. "She made a kettle for us, poured it out, and said she'd need to taste it first because it was an old package of tea."
"Did you drink any?" Treasa asked, sparing her a cursory glance.
"No, she took a sip and said it tasted odd – said I shouldn't drink it at all and she'd make another batch from a different package. I heard her retching in the kitchen, and by the time I got there, she looked like this."
Treasa nodded. "Sirius , check what's in that tea. Tonks, take Emmeline to the kitchen and the two of you get lots of water. Hestia's going to need to drink as much as she can."
The two other women left the room. Remus conjured a shallow bowl that Sirius dumped the contents of the vial into. "Specialis Revelio," he intoned.
"Well?" Treasa snapped, propping Hestia up slightly to aid in breathing.
"Looks like asphodel, boomslang venom, castor beans," Sirius rattled off, jabbing his wand at the magically separated elements of the liquid. "And what appears to be concentrated scurvy-grass."
"Which would explain the fever," Treasa muttered to herself. "Alright, Remus, go to the kitchen and tell them to make some of that water into ice. Sirius you stay here and make sure she's able to breathe. If it gets any harder for her, call me immediately."
Before Sirius had time even to nod, Treasa had grabbed the bowl and strode out the door, moving with as much speed as she dared. It seemed incredible, but she had to be sure.
In her potions laboratory, Treasa pulled out the St. Mungo's potion manual she'd brought from her flat. There, on the fourth-to-last page, was a cocktail of poisons exactly matching Sirius' list. She spun on her heel and opened the potions cabinet, pulling a bottle from the bottom right corner. A specialized antidote for a specialty poison – one she just happened to have brewed an antidote for. The coincidence was too staggering.
She turned back to the open book, her eyes flying down the page to the notation at the bottom.
"Created after 10 identical poisonings in 1978, possible work of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or his followers."
Severus.