Arrival at Grimmauld
Sirius Black was frustrated, but that was nothing new. For nearly two months, he had been constrained to the grimy house of his childhood. He would never call this place home, for it hadn't been that since he was nine and confused why the muggles right outside their door were beneath him. His mother had screamed at him for daring to play with the muggle kids, calling him a bad influence on Regulus. The answer she later gave him had rung hollow, especially with how it was followed by a blinding cuff to the ear, and so when he arrived at Hogwarts, he rebelled. For a child of House Black, there was no greater rebellion than becoming a Gryffindor.
Unfortunately for Sirius, the nature of a Gryffindor was not suitable for remaining cooped up in a nasty, plague-ridden house like Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.
He had begged, pleaded even, to be added to his goddaughter's protection guard, even if it was only in the form of Padfoot. Edelweiss Potter, the girl he should've raised, had to stay with Lily's wretched sister and her even more horrid family. Sirius saw them once, following his daring escape from Azkaban. He had vague memories of meeting them at James and Lily's wedding. The prank he had played on the Dursleys was rightfully deserved given how they sneered at everything magical. It should've been simple, even for the worst muggles, to keep their mouths shut and act polite for a few hours. He had seen known Death Eaters do that much.
At present, his dear friend, Remus Lupin, was in Surrey, watching over his goddaughter. He'd been there for most of the day and wouldn't return until some time this evening. Sirius swore he would remain awake long enough to hear his report, even if it would be nothing more than her hiding away within that bland, cookie-cutter excuse of a house.
He watched from his spot at the head of the dining room table as members of the Order of the Phoenix gathered, summoned for an emergency meeting. The Weasleys, having arrived in early July and remained ever since, were the first to take their seats. Arthur was under investigation at the Ministry. Sirius assumed it meant his loyalties to Dumbledore were too obvious, and so the minister wanted to know if there was a way to remove him without violating the law. Others who fought in the first war took seats as well: Emmeline Vance, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, Sturgis Podmore, even wizened Elphias Doge.
It was the new members that stood out to Sirius, though. Hestia Jones had been recruited by Vance, while his cousin Nymphadora Tonks was brought on by her auror trainer, Mad-Eye. One of the other Weasleys was present, though he hadn't taken up residence at Number Twelve. He had long hair and a dragon tooth earing his mother took umbrage with, though Sirius thought it made him the best of the bunch. Once Edelweiss was brought over, he'd get to better know the others, if only through her. He only recognized the boy who had owned Wormtail and befriended his goddaughter.
Dumbledore finally arrived, escorted by a grim-faced Kingsley Shacklebolt and a worn-down Remus. Sirius thought it the height of irony that the auror leading the task force hunting him down was a member of the Order and actively railroaded every attempt to find him. The dark-skinned auror avoided his gaze, taking a seat with Moody and Tonks.
"I am afraid I have called this meeting to share grave news," Dumbledore began, his gaze sweeping over those present. "As many who work at the Ministry have heard by now, two dementors went missing this afternoon. When they returned, the aurors present discovered they were scarred, inflicted with magical burns. Kingsley has informed me that the DMLE has a suspect, and I am afraid to inform everyone here that it is a name we all know."
Sirius's gut sunk long before the Headmaster uttered his goddaughter's name to shocked gasps.
"More troubling, in my eyes, was her encounter with Remus earlier this day," Dumbledore continued. Remus, Sirius noted, stood awkwardly in a corner. "She did not say so directly to him, but I fear from what he reported is that she is liable to flee her relative's home, especially in the wake of what has happened today. We must prepare for her disappearing, though to where I cannot say. Perhaps—."
"Why not bring her here before she can run away?" asked Sirius, a moment away from outright demanding they escort her to Grimmauld Place. He rose to his feet, drawing eyes as his chair screeched backward. "I've begged you all summer to bring my goddaughter here! Every time you denied me, so why is now, that she's run afoul of the aurors that—"
"It's not as simple as that, Black," snarled Mad-Eye, his fake blue eye swiveling around the room before settling upon him. "The national sensors detected two unknown spells cast in her area, around a time of day which would line up with the dementors being absent from Azkaban. Unless you can explain how that girl is capable of using magic unknown to the Ministry, we can't trust bringing her into Headquarters."
"This is my house," Sirius growled, ignoring what Mad-Eye had said about Edelweiss. "I offered it to Dumbledore because nobody would think of checking this house for the Order of the Phoenix. I'm more than willing to retract my offer and leave Britain with my goddaughter, the consequences be damned."
"That won't be necessary," interrupted Dumbledore. "I will go to where Miss Potter is staying and speak with her. After that, we will make plans to secretly move her here. It appears she must be kept under close eye." He turned to the Weasleys. "I trust you can continue to look after her as you two have in the past."
Mrs. Weasley beamed. "The children will be overjoyed to see her. The limitations on writing letters has been difficult for them all, even dear Ronald." She lowered her voice, as if saying something truly scandalous. "I think he has a crush on her, the poor dear. Merlin knows the girl wouldn't recognize romance if it openly courted her."
Sirius grimaced at the thought of his goddaughter with Ronald Weasley. He had nothing truly bad to say about the boy, only that he wasn't up to the standard he knew James and Lily would set for their little girl. He didn't doubt for a second they would've encouraged a friendship with the Weasley children, but a romance with the youngest son? That was out of the picture.
"Perhaps something will flourish this year," Dumbledore said, rather suggestively. He glanced at Sirius, noting the man's tension, and sighed. "I should be off, then. I should speak with Miss Potter as soon as I ca—"
A loud sound came from the kitchen. Sirius and several others sprung to their feet and burst in. The fire roared with green flames. An elderly woman stuck her head through and began shouting. "Headmaster! Headmaster! We have a problem!"
As Dumbledore hurried over to the kitchen fireplace, Sirius felt something brush his mind. It wasn't an Occulmency attack, though it felt too akin to the ones his mother had subjected him to before he fled to the Potter's for his liking. A moment later, the house shook and a bell, deep and grim, tolled.
"That was the wards," he whispered, glancing at whoever was closest. Tonks, his cousin Andromeda's brat, glanced back, her hair bright red. "That was the wards," he said louder, "and the house is under the Fidelius."
He rushed to the front door, Tonks and a couple others on his heels. He ignored the grime of the front entry as he passed the stairs, which creaked and groaned as the children upstairs scurried back up. Sirius brushed past the curtains over his mother's portrait. He ignored her shrieking as he threw open the door and found his goddaughter standing on the sidewalk before Grimmauld Place, scowling at the houses before her. She was searching for something, as if she knew something magical was being hidden from her.
Before he could speak or even descend the few stairs down to the sidewalk, her emerald eyes—too much like Lily's, as they always had been—flashed and met his gaze. Edelweiss Potter smiled before she bounded up the stairs to stand before him, her trunk in hand.
"Hullo, Sirius," she said before crashing into him with a hug. He stumbled back a step, drawing her close to him. After a minute, Edelweiss drew back and looked around, frowning. "What is this place? I know it's there, yet my mind isn't fully convinced. It's the oddest thing in the world…"
She trailed off as a wand was pushed into her face. Fury bloomed in her emerald eyes as she looked past Sirius and into Remus's grim face. His friend looked somewhat apologetic, even as he said, "Tell me something only the real Edelweiss Potter knows."
She didn't even flinch at his request. "I used my memory of flying on a broom the first time I attempted to cast the Patronus."
Remus sighed, relieved. He lowered his wand, though didn't grin as Sirius had when he spotted his goddaughter. "You should read this," he said, handing over a slip of parchment.
Edelweiss took it without comment. Sirius knew what was written upon it, for that piece of parchment was the Secret which made all who read it aware of what was beneath the Fidelius around his family's house. She blinked after reading the final word, smirking as her gaze rose to take in the house before her.
"Neat trick, linking a ward to a bit of parchment. Can't say it's the safest thing in the world, but I don't know much of wards anyways." She glanced back at the small park across the road and at the other buildings around them. "We should head inside."
"There's nothing to be worried about, Edelweiss," said Remus.
She gave him a doubtful, sideways look. Sirius sighed before turning to his friend. "She isn't being paranoid, Remus. It's a bit chilly out here and she hasn't seen her friends in weeks."
He glanced back to his goddaughter, expecting her to look overjoyed at the prospect of seeing her friends again. Instead, her face was cold and stiff. Something furious lingered under the surface, akin to when she had confronted him in the Shrieking Shack. Her fury that night had been terrifying, greater than anything he had encountered from a single witch. Edelweiss met his gaze and sniffed just like his cousin Narcissa might.
Once they closed the door behind them, he was reminded of his mother's portrait and her obnoxious screaming and screeching, uttering all manner of wretched words. Remus flinched away, his senses strengthened thanks to his werewolf nature. Sirius grimaced at the reminder of the reason he fled home.
Edelweiss suddenly began laughing, loud enough to interrupt the portrait. Walburga Black stared at the laughing witch, her jowls fallen and mouth opened wide. His goddaughter's laugh slowly transformed into a cackle, the kind he associated with his cousin Bellatrix. Her laugh died away slowly, leaving her with a wide grin.
"Who is that wretched witch?" she asked Sirius, something dark beneath her amusement. "Please tell me that's some distant ancestor of yours."
"I'm afraid that was my mother." Sirius grabbed the curtains around his mother's portrait and slammed them closed, blocking her from view. That silenced his mother, at least until the curtains were opened up once again. "Nobody has been able to permanently silence her since we started using this house as Headquarters, and her portrait is kept up by a permanent sticking charm."
"You use this place for Dumbledore's vigilante club then?" asked Edelweiss, more knowledgeable than she should be. "Quite brazen, using a house that must've belonged to his supporters during the previous war. Your relatives must be quite peaked they can't remember a family townhouse."
Sirius grimaced. "Most of them are dead or in Azkaban. Only ones free are Andromeda, whose daughter is part of the Order, and Narcissa, who married Malfoy."
Edelweiss made a face at the name Malfoy, but seemed content to say nothing else. The rest who had been gathered for the meeting had emerged from the dining room. They stared at his goddaughter, shocked and stumped by her sudden arrival. Dumbledore pushed forward, his face set grimly, old and weathered.
"My dear girl, you had us all worried."
"I'm guessing Figg noticed I left? I'm surprised the barmy old woman could actually use her eyes to see what's before her." Edelweiss frowned as she took in Number Twelve. She turned back to Sirius. "When was this place last cleaned? It's a dump."
"Welcome to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, Edelweiss," Sirius said, stretching his arms wide. A moment passed where she just stared at him, gobsmacked, and then she burst out laughing. He grinned, chuckling in turn. It was relieving, hearing her laugh. She had been a thin, angry thing when they reunited in the Shrieking Shack. He regretted that he had left her in Hagrid's care that dreadful night. He regretted that he had chased after Peter.
Most of all, he regretted not trusting Dumbledore with the change in Secret Keeper.
"My dear girl—"
"I am not your dear girl," Edelweiss snarled, turning to face Dumbledore. "That ship, as far as I am concerned, has sailed." The air around her crackled with unbridled fury, charged by some unknown power. Perhaps, Sirius feared, the very power she had used upon a dementor. The Headmaster frowned, whereas everyone around him gasped and stepped away from the poorly restrained power. "Either you call me Miss Edelweiss or Miss Potter, and only those two. The choice is yours, Headmaster."
"Miss Potter," corrected Dumbledore. "I understand you are angry with me, but everything I have done has been for your own good. You must be protected."
"Why?" she asked with a sneer. "So I can be offered up as a sacrificial lamb? To be the totem of your war, the rallying beacon for your cause? I will see Voldemort"—cue several flinches and yelps, including from Sirius—"dead for what he has done to my family, and you have done as much harm as him. We are allies in this conflict, Headmaster, and nothing more. After he is dead… Well, I cannot say."
Her proclamation was met by gasps and outrage. Sirius wished he had the strength to agree with the others, but Edelweiss was his goddaughter, and he was bound to protect her. She must be justified somehow in her fury at Dumbledore, though he feared she might take it too far. She was young and angry, more like his cousin Bellatrix than himself or her parents.
The moment after the thought came to him, Sirius swallowed thickly. It was a terrifying idea, his precious goddaughter becoming like his mad cousin. He needed to head off whatever troubled her best he could, though it might be too late for Edelweiss. His failures continued to mount, building and building every day.
"Unless you have something else… patronizing to say, we are finished speaking for tonight, Headmaster." She turned to Sirius, a foot tapping impatiently. "I would appreciate something to eat. I'm quite famished. Certainly, the House of Black has maintained some semblance of propriety."
A pop stole attention from Edelweiss. Sirius gaped, for Kreacher was now at his goddaughter's side. The mad elf had appeared without anyone having to call for him, just as he did during Sirius's childhood. He bowed, muttering, "Kreacher serves the House of Black still. What does—"
"Serves? How?" she asked, peering around. Edelweiss stepped into the kitchen and Sirius followed. Her gaze lingered on every cobweb and stain. "I'm shocked you were never given clothes, or did your master die before they could expel you?"
Kreacher grabbed his ears and twisted them. "Kreacher be a good elf. He serves his mistress; yes, he does; yes, he does."
Edelweiss glanced at Sirius, ignoring the worried look he shot her, and mouthed, "Your mother?" He nodded grimly. She sighed, turning her attention back to the house elf before her. "Kreacher. I am hungry and wish to eat a proper supper."
The elf sneered, acting normal for once. "Another filthy—"
"You would deny the Heir of Slytherin what she requires? Do you dare reject those invited by the Lord and Master of House Black?"
Kreacher squeaked, then snapped away. Edelweiss held stiff for a moment, then sighed. She slumped, shaking her head. "Don't worry about how I acted, Sirius. Just the…influence I feel." Her emerald eyes flickered to him before she asked softly, "What happened in this house? I… I feel its darkness, how cold it has been."
"The House of Black has a dark history," Sirius said, glancing at the other members of the Order. Most of them were watching her with a distinct look of worry and concern. A few, Mad-Eye among them, were eyeing her with expressions drifting toward distrust. "I'm surprised you noticed. Most witches and wizards wouldn't pick up on a house's aura so easily."
She shrugged, just as Kreacher suddenly popped before her with a plate of steaming food. There were roast meats and vegetables, along with a bit of treacle tart to the side. The elf waited for her to take a seat at the table before setting the plate down before her. He snapped his fingers and a goblet appeared to her left.
"Wine, for Heiress Slytherin," the elf croaked.
"Return to your duties," Edelweiss commanded, the strange persona she had shown reestablishing itself. "I will call you should I want for anything else."
Kreacher nodded dutifully, then vanished with another soft pop.
"You'll need to teach me how to command Kreacher like that," Sirius said, with only a hint of jealousy. "He's never taken orders from me willingly."
Edelweiss frowned, holding a fork of meat. "Even when you were a boy?"
Sirius grimaced and decided not to answer his goddaughter. He glanced at Dumbledore, who was watching her with guarded blue eyes. The twinkling he usually saw in the Headmaster's gaze was absent. It was so strange that he had to peer into the old man's gaze in order to make sure he wasn't seeing something that wasn't there.
"Is there anything else you want, Headmaster?"
He mentally thanked his goddaughter for noticing, even as he flinched at the suddenness of her voice. Sirius stared at her as she filled a plate with small portions from the venerable feast laid out before her. She ate quietly, her back towards them. Each bite was the precise size his mother would've expected, as if she were raised in a pureblood family and not by muggles. Once more, Sirius wondered what damage Lily's wretched muggle sister had done to Edelweiss Potter to make her the way she was.
"I'm afraid not, Miss Potter." Dumbledore glanced at Sirius before turning back to Edelweiss. "Though I should warn you about this house. There are many dangers one can stumble upon, if they are not careful."
She peered at him, unimpressed as she held a bite of rabbit before her lips. "I would assume a house belonging to one of the most notorious dark families in Britain has dangers hidden about." Edelweiss looked over her other shoulder, to Sirius. "What areas are sealed away?"
"The library, for one."
"Disappointing, but unsurprising. Where else?"
"Potions lab."
Her mouth was open, the bite of rabbit nearly past her teeth. She paused, withdrew her bite, and frowned at him. "Truly?"
"And the Lord's suite."
Edelweiss shrugged as she picked the neglected bit of rabbit off her fork. She made a small moaning sound as she chewed. Sirius wondered if her meal was that good, or if she knew Kreacher would be somewhere, minding how she enjoyed the meal.
"I'm surprised you didn't claim it for yourself," Edelweiss eventually said. "Unless you like sleeping in your childhood bedroom."
"It just brings back old memories."
She nodded, even as her emerald eyes surveyed the kitchen while quickly working through her meal. Her emotions were hidden well, but he had grown up in a family of Slytherins. He had been forced to quickly learn how to peer behind masks. When his goddaughter had the time and necessity to develop a mask all her own was unknown to him.
Another failure, another mistake to rectify.
"I can take over with Edie, Sirius," said Mrs. Weasley as Edelweiss finished her meal. "She'll want to see her friends once she's done, and she'll be sharing a room with Hermione and Ginny anywa—"
"Is there another room I could have?" Edelweiss asked Sirius. "One to myself?"
"Well, there's my brother's room," he began. Sirius glanced at Molly, who was glaring at him, fists upon her hips. "But I think you should be with your friends as well. You haven't seen them in months, and I imagine the letters you got from them weren't the best."
"I wonder why," his goddaughter replied monotonously. She acted emotionless as she rose to her feet, yet Sirius knew a storm of wrath and fury brewed within her. "Show me the way, Mrs. Weasley."
Molly shot Sirius a smug, victorious look before bustling over to Edelweiss. She poked and prodded the girl about her weight. His goddaughter was able to slip around questions as she was escorted toward the staircase. As she went, she glanced back at him, the other members of the Order dispersed for the night.
Shockingly, she smirked.
Edelweiss was dearly tempted to yank her arm away from Mrs. Weasley, but it was more dangerous to end up on the woman's bad side this early into the summer than to regain even a moment of extra freedom. Chances were she was the one actually in charge of the house, and if Edelweiss wanted to find time for her Sith studies, she'd need to twist Mrs. Weasley firmly around her finger. What she had seen of the Black's house was in dreadful shape, and thus the likelihood the Weasley matriarch had put her children to work cleaning the house was a dead certainty. Anything that reminded Edelweiss of the Dursleys was trouble indeed.
"How have you been, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "The children have been worried about you, since you haven't written them back."
"If there was anything to say, I would've written it down."
"Dearie," Mrs. Weasley began with a frustratingly disappointed tone. Edelweiss's jaw clenched. "You must understand why their letters weren't as filled with details as they've been in the past. Letters can be intercepted."
"Can they now," Edelweiss bit out. Her anger welled, searing in her veins. "If that can happen, what's to stop Voldemort from sending me a letter disguised as a portkey? Wouldn't be the first time he used a portkey to abduct me."
Mrs. Weasley's lips pursed at the harsh response. They reached the house's narrow staircase before she could speak, and Edelweiss took the chance to head up before the matriarch. She glanced to the wall, where several house elf heads were hung, mounted upon wood plaques and stuffed like cheap taxidermy. She would question Kreacher about their presence another time. It was simple to assume it was done because they had served the House of Black well, though given Kreacher's failures, it was unlikely he would join those heads in death.
When she reached the landing of the first floor, Edelweiss was rushed by a mass of bushy hair, wailing inconsolably. She barely had time to raise her arms before several faces poked out of doors, all bearing reddish-orange hair.
"Hullo," Edelweiss said, feeling her suppressed anger start to bubble. It took little effort on her part to hold it down as only a simmer under the surface; she doubted it would take much to set her off. "How have your summers been? Mine's been splendid, with poor letters and a dementor attack."
There was a long moment of silence, as her friends realized what she had said. Ginny was the first to react, the color in her face draining away. The Twins were next, popping over to her and throwing arms around Edelweiss, and Hermione by proximity.
"Those are—"
"—no danger to you—"
"—Miss Patronus in third year."
She bit her lip; they would panic if they learned that spell no longer worked for her. It was embarrassing how her anger at the Weasleys and Hermione had prevented her from casting the Patronus Charm when that very anger was the foundation of her new powers.
"I handled them," she said plainly, glaring at who she thought was Fred. Edelweiss was certain that the Force would tell her who was which without doubt, but she was wary of using the Force so close to a handful of fellow witches and wizards. She would wait until she was behind a locked door before returning to her lessons.
"Though not as you should have," said Mrs. Weasley, looming only a few feet away. "Albus told us what you did. Lightning? In the middle of a muggle neighborhood? What were you thinking?"
Edelweiss clenched her jaw, knowing she had been caught in a proverbial corner. She sighed, slow and long, before muttering, "I was too angry to cast my patronus earlier today. Perhaps if my friends had not kept me at arm's length this summer, I would've been in the proper mind to cast that charm." She glanced from face to face, all paled or green with nausea. "Instead, I did what had to be done."
Mrs. Weasley scowled, lips pursed as if she were sucking on lemons. Her hands were balled into fists and had already found their way to her hips. Disappointment rolled from her in waves, and the Weasley children all withdrew on instinct. "You should have returned home instead, dearie. The wards around that house, along with the guard watching over you, were set up to keep you safe."
Edelweiss scowled, and bit down on her tongue before something foolish could slip from her. Yes, her anger was a wellspring of power; but it was a power she had so far kept secret and planned to keep secret until she could be reborn as Darth Gladiolus. That was a fate Mrs. Weasley would certainly try to prevent. The dark side was a power the matriarch would never accept, and she would do everything she could to stop Edelweiss was wielding it.
"So be it," she muttered, turning away from Mrs. Weasley. "I am tired, and there won't be a separate room set aside for me. Hermione, Ginny. Which room are you using?"
"Over here," Ginny said from a doorway. "Hermione's been in a right fit, waiting for you."
Edelweiss hummed as she slipped from the Twins. She all but dragged Hermione to the room she shared with Ginny, for the girl was still half-attached. It was difficult to not smile fondly at the bushy-haired girl's response, even if Edelweiss felt annoyance over the clinginess being displayed.
Once they were within the room, Edelweiss slammed the door shut. She leaned against it as Mrs. Weasley banged against it and demanded she come back out to discuss her attitude. Ginny and Hermione stared at her, eyes wide with horror. The former seemed particularly frightened, her face so pale each and every freckle was blatant and apparent across her cheeks.
"Don't," Edelweiss said, her gaze fixed upon Hermione. "I know what you're thinking."
Eventually, Mrs. Weasley understood her efforts were fruitless. The sound of grumbling and bustling drifted from the door and headed to and up the staircase.
"I just want to sleep," Edelweiss added. She yawned, covering it with a mouth, and then rubbed her face. "I can answer the plethora of questions you have on the morrow."
After a few seconds, Hermione said, "As long as you answer them."
"I'll do my best," Edelweiss mumbled as she slumped onto the only bed untouched by a sleeping form. She shucked off the light clothes she had worn, ignoring the hisses and gasps at the sight of her ribs. She had grown so accustomed to being able to see them through her skin that it barely bothered her.
"Don't ask," she grumbled, turning over to show her back. Only as sleep dragged her down towards unconsciousness did Edelweiss realize that she had left her trunk down in the kitchen.
That, she knew, could wait until morning as well.