Since the attack, Diagon Alley was a changed place. Shop windows used to glitter with eye-catching merchandise; it was hard to know where to look because of all the magnificent things. There were books and herbs and new brooms and cauldrons and toys and sculptures and all sorts of goodies. People sat outside with the paper and an ice cream cone, taking in the sunlight. Children ran up and down, laughing and playing, many running kites behind them shaped like dragons or phoenixes or mermaids.

Not anymore. Now, every window had a massive, somber Ministry poster plastered over it. The posters displayed security advice, telling us the best ways to protect ourselves should Diagon Alley come under attack; as if a poster could prepare us for Voldemort showing up. Others showed pictures of known Death Eaters. The one on our store, which we carefully placed on the door so as not to ruin the shop windows, displayed Bellatrix Lestrange to everyone. We felt that her face was the most important one to know, even though Fenrir Greyback was apparently the one leading the group the day of the attack.

Rebuilding would take time, though. While the signs seemed to go up overnight, shop repairs would take longer. Florean Fortesque had no living relatives, so we took it upon ourselves to clean up the ice cream parlour for him. The day after the attack, we put the remaining ice cream tubs outside for people to help themselves, and the few people around came out to help us.

There were no shoppers in Diagon Alley that day, although it was swarming with Ministry officials, so only the actual residents milled about. It was strange to all of us for our world to be so broken and empty. Even though the sun shone brightly and the birds sang overhead, we could all still feel the Dark Mark hanging above us. The day was beautiful and light, but the air was as heavy as our hearts.

George nailed a board in place over the doorway to the parlour, sweating in the summer heat. Angie grabbed another plank and held it in place for Fred to hammer over the window, and I offered a bowl of ice cream to Remus.

"Who cleared up Ollivanders?" he asked, taking the last of the salted caramel ice cream from me.

"Don't know," I shrugged, rushing over to help George get another board in place. "When we got out here this morning, it was already boarded up. I think maybe his son came by. Scribbulus is on his way back from Denmark, so we're leaving his place be."

"How's your shop?"

George wiped sweat from his brow and tossed his hammer down. "Remind me again why we aren't doing this with magic?" he grumbled, grabbing a cup to scoop some plain vanilla ice cream into it.

"Because magic did this to us, so we have to fix it another way. Everyone is doing this the muggle way," I reminded him, gesturing to the street around us. And it was true. Up and down Diagon Alley, people just like us were sweating in the afternoon sun to repair damage to their stores and help their neighbors clean up. More and more posters appeared, too.

"Right," George sighed. He offered me a spoonful of ice cream, and I wrapped my mouth around the spoon instead of taking it from him with my hand. "Anyway, our store's all right. Window's fixed; that we used magic for. Other than that, we didn't really have any damage."

"How's, em…" Remus nodded towards Angie, who laughed at something Fred muttered when he yet again missed the nail with his hammer.

I shrugged. "She's confused. She wants explanations about the Order and the attack, but she's been uncharacteristically patient about it all. Right now, she's focused on getting our home fixed up."

"She'll want answers soon, though," George warned.

Remus nodded. "Well, you'll have to give her some, then, won't you?"

FGFGFGFGFGFGFGFGFGFGFG

Life never returned to normal, but it fell into a surreal pattern that felt almost right. Almost. Slowly, very slowly, customers began coming back to the shops. Business picked up for everyone, but ours really boomed. People needed a laugh now more than ever, and it almost became possible to forget about the attack. Then, we would look outside at Florean's, or someone would talk about Hogwarts and remember that the new students had no one to get a wand from, and it sank in again.

Live moved on though, as life is apt to do – Fred and Angie partook in some harmless verbal sparring (also known as their version of flirting), she and I gossiped like old busybodies, the four of us ran the shop together like we'd been doing it our whole lives – until the murders. They were killed within three days of each other, Emmeline Vance on Monday evening and Amelia Bones early Thursday morning.

The four of us sat in the shop, just buttering our morning toast and letting our tea brew, when word arrived in the form of Kingsley Shacklebolt apparating right into the middle of the room. Everybody jumped at the sight, Angie's teacup shattering to the floor. It had to be a serious matter for him to make such a risky public appearance; normally, one of the Weasleys brought us news so as not to attract suspicion. Even Fleur stopped in now that she and Bill were engaged, a thought that still made the boys shudder a bit. Personally, I found the girl charming, albeit a bit dense. On the rare occasion that someone else stopped by, the wandered in during shop hours like a typical customer. Tonks had developed the taste for Canary Creams from just such occasions.

"What happened?" I asked, setting my toast down carefully to avoid putting it in spilled tea. Angie fervently mopped up her mess, but the rest of us could not have cared less.

"Amelia Bones has been killed."

Angie squeaked and dropped her tea again, but Fred reached out and found her hand with his to steady her. George would have done the same with me, but my hands were otherwise occupied as I ran them through my hair. Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Dead. First Emmeline, one of us, an Order member, a brilliant witch, killed. That news came to us from Arthur Weasley late at night, long after Angie was asleep, so we could mourn without her knowing – at least until the Prophet published the story the next morning and we could justifiably be shocked at the brutal killing. Now this. Now an innocent woman.

"Why?" George asked as if reading my mind.

Kingsley shook his head. "We don't know yet. Your father is looking around inside too see what he could find." We all knew that 'inside' meant 'inside the ministry when he went to work'; well, all of us but Angie, rather. "But, we have not had time to figure it out yet."

"Was she working with us?" I asked.

Angie must have regained some of her senses, because she pulled her hand from Fred's grasp and asked "Working with who?"

"No," Kingsley shook his head, "she was not. She was not…like Emmeline."

Emmeline Vance's death was still too new to be mentioned casually, and my stomach knotted at her name. Even though I had not personally worked with her, I knew her, and I knew her well. We'd shared several meals together at Grimmauld, discussed strategies, speculated on Voldemort's next move, planned how best to protect Harry over this critical summer now that Sirius was gone. She was part of Harry's advanced guard, or she had been, at least. She swore to give her life protecting him if need be. And she actually had. Even though Fred, George, and I said we knew joining the Order may mean our deaths, it never seemed real to us until Emmeline. Her death made the risks a reality, not just a constant argument with Mrs. Weasley.

"Was it…" Fred stopped to swallow quickly and regain his composure, also shaken by the mention of Emmeline Vance. "Was it quick?"

The second of hesitation between when Kingsley opened his mouth to speak and when he actually spoke was all we needed, but he gave us the courtesy of answering anyway. "…No."

"But…" I shook my head. It didn't make sense. "Why kill her? Either they killed her to achieve some goal, in which case there was no need to draw it out, or they killed her because she was dangerous, in which case we would have known." I noticed the confused, and irritated, look Angie gave at my 'we' comment, but she stayed silent. "It doesn't make sense."

Kingsley shook his head. "It doesn't make sense to us. They do not operate under the same principles that we do." George rubbed my arm gently as I shook my head. He was right, of course. Why would I expect Voldemort to act honorably? "I must go. I…am sorry I only stopped in to bring bad news."

"No," Fred sighed solemnly and shook his head to show we appreciated being told. "Cheers, mate." Kingsley nodded once and apparated from the room.

A long moment of silence stretched between the four of us as Fred, George, and I took in the news. Two brutal murders in less than a week. I pushed my toast away, no longer feeling like eating. In fact, I rather felt like throwing up, but there was thankfully nothing in my stomach yet.

Angie, however, had waited long enough. Yes, she could be patient while we heard this devastating news, but to expect her to let everything slide was far too much to ask. Finally, the dam burst, and she slapped a hand on the solid wood of the countertop, making us all jump. "Would somebody tell me what the hell you were going on about? What was all this 'we' and 'us' and 'working together' and all that?"

I should have explained it. She was my best friend, my 'sister', but I couldn't. I could not explain the Order and what we were doing, not with two violent deaths weighing so heavily on my heart. Thankfully, Fred took it upon himself to tell all of this to Angie as George wrapped me in a hug. With my head pressed safely to George's chest, Fred's words sounded muffled and far away. So, I did not focus at all on the explanation, just on the steady beating of George's heart.

George's voice filled my ears, though, ruining my safe haven as the explanation time came to an end. "It's a big commitment," he said. I pulled away and straightened my hair. "Being part of the Order means that things like this could happen at any time to the people you care about the most. Could happen to you. And joining was probably the hardest thing we ever did."

"Mum was dead-set against it," Fred agreed. "But, now that we're in, and since you're not in school anymore…"

"I don't want to join," Angie interrupted. The boys looked at her with wide eyes, as if this thought never crossed their minds, but it seemed obvious to me. Of course she would not want to join for all of the reasons that Mrs. Weasley used when she tried to keep us out. This was a painful, dangerous job. We signed up for it because, frankly, we were idiots. Angie was not. "I was here for the attack. I've seen what you people have to do, and I don't want to be part of that."

"You don't have to," I told her like she needed my permission. "We just wanted you to know what was going on."

"Thanks." She smiled softly, but it faded as she thought. "So, erm, if you're doing all those things, fighting Death Eaters and the likes…"

"Only when we run into them," Fred corrected quickly. "We don't go out looking for them!"

"Right, I got that." Angie rolled her eyes. "There's a chance, then, that you might run into…Sirius Black?"

For a very long, awkward moment, the three of us stared blankly at Angie as her question processed. Angie, bless her, stared right back, probably assuming that it never occurred to us that we may have to battle who she thought was the second most dangerous wizard in England. The Daily Prophet had reported, albeit briefly, on what occurred in the Department of Mysteries. The article, however, focused more on the appearance of Voldemort in the Ministry building than anything else. As there was no body, Sirius's death had not even been mentioned. Perhaps the reporter did not even know about it.

I licked my lips slowly, and Fred elbowed George sharply in the stomach when my twin started to laugh, thankfully cutting him off right after no more than a breathy titter. "Ri-ight," I started slowly. "About that. Erm…even though you're not a member of the Order…if you're going to stay with us…you should probably…" I turned to Fred for his confirmation on this, as if I needed his permission first. Thankfully, he did more than that and took up the gauntlet of talking.

"Before we were part of the Order, we knew a lot about it. Members, hideout, all sorts. That was mostly because our mum and dad were in it, but still. Ron and Harry and Hermione all found out, too, and I see no reason why Granger needed in on it other than because Harry and Ron would've told her anyway. And if you're going to stay with us, it's safe to assume that we'd tell you things. So, maybe, if you're willing, we should give you that same information."

Angie's eyes widened and shifted between the three of us, looking for some sort of explanation as to why her Sirius Black question brought this on. We offered none, though, so she gave a defeated sigh. "Fine," she consented. "Let's do this."

FGFGFGFGFGFGFGFGFGFGFGFGFG

"FUCK YOUR MOTHER, THAT IS SIRIUS BLACK WITH HARRY POTTER!"

"Did she just say…" George started, pointing to the doorway to 12 Grimmauld Place's kitchen where Angelina Johnson was desperately trying to get away.

Fred lunged for her and grabbed her arms before Angie took her fervent cries into the hall, where she would awaken that portrait and set all hell loose in the house. "Angie. Angie. Ang! Calm down."

"That'll work," Remus mumbled into his mug before taking a sip of tea and turning the page of the Daily Prophet. "Mel, have you read today's paper? There's a new column with some recipe for a…" he leaned towards the paper and squinted, "…some kind of potion."

"Little busy, Remus," I grunted, snatching the photograph that Angie unceremoniously flung like a hot coal. "Thanks, though."

"Angie, ANGIE!" Fred bellowed, and she momentarily froze at how loud he got. "Godric, woman! He was on our side!"

"He is not on your side, Fred! He's a mass murderer that escaped from Azkaban to-"

Fred pressed two fingers to her lips, and this move was just unexpected enough to silence her. She went cross-eyed trying to look down at his hand, then turned a glare on his face.

"Was," I corrected, and Angie snapped her head around to look at me with wide eyes; Fred's fingers quickly found her lips again, just in case. She searched my face and then George's, taking in the weight suddenly filling the room. "Sirius Black is dead."

"None of that Death Eater bullshit is true, Ang. If you promise to stay calm and quiet, we'll go into the living room, and I'll explain it to you. All right?" Angie nodded slowly. "Promise." She nodded again, so Fred slowly removed his fingers from her lips. True to her word, Angie stayed completely silent, and Fred led her from the kitchen.

"Well!" George grinned chipperly. "That went smashingly!"

"How did Fred never tell her about Sirius before?" I asked as I pulled a chair next to Remus. Now that the excitement had died down, that potion did sound rather interesting.

George shrugged. "Dunno. I told you so you wouldn't lose your mind with worry…not that you do that. You never worry. About anything. Ever." He grinned sheepishly at the look I shot him. "I guess…it probably just never occurred to him."

"Well, things better start occurring to him, or it's going to get really ugly around here," I mumbled.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Melbecka," Remus yawned, picking up his teacup again. "I found that highly entertaining."

So, as I've been writing further along in the story, I realized that this chapter and the next are a bit dull. I can try to make the next a bit more fun, but there wasn't much I could do about this one. It just wasn't coming to me. Filler posts just aren't as exciting, but I'll do what I can! Thank you all SO MUCH for reading and reviewing. I love hearing what you have to say (good and bad!), and it's great to know people are reading!

Next Chapter (I did this last story but forgot the past few chapters, sorry!): The Lies We Tell