Kingsley's voice broke through the darkness. "Keep going, and be quiet, so we don't wake her I'll explain," he told Emma and she did as she was told.

Finally, they arrived at a spacious waiting area with many portraits lining the walls. It seemed to Emma that they had entered into a large mansion. She had never been at a home like that. So, this was the headquarters, she thought.

"Well," Kingsley said, as he took off her traveling cloak. "This is it. We are careful when we get it, there's actually a nasty portrait in the hallway that you don't want to wake up, believe me."

But Emma was not paying attention. She was focused on a closed door right ahead of them where there were clear sounds of chatter.

"Everyone should be at the library right now," Eulalia muttered, moving forward to open the door. Emma took a deep breath and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears. This was it then.

"Let's go," said Kingsley, softly, motioning Emma to follow Eulalia. With a swift motion, however, the door flung open before them and Emma's eyes widened as a short, plump red-headed woman stood at the centre of the waiting area.

"Ah, Eulalia, Kingsley, finally," said the red-headed woman hastily, as it seemed she was actually about to exit the room.

The woman regarded Emma with a curious smile that seemed warm, but her voice was rushed and slightly breathless, as she first addressed the Shacklebolt siblings. "We're terribly delayed. Alastor is stuck somewhere. We're doing our best to sort it out, but it might take a while," she said anxiously. Eulalia snorted.

"Molly, may I introduce Emma? She's the newest recruit," said Kingsley in a deep voice, as he stepped forward.

The woman named Molly turned to Emma with a warm smile amidst the hastiness. "It's a pleasure to meet you, are you the new Healer?" she asked, impressed. Emma extended a polite hand, shaking Molly's with a mixture of nervousness.

"Yes, pleasure to meet you as well," she said and the red-headed woman gave her a bigger smile.

"Well, we will be seeing each other more now. My family is in the Order." She suddenly stopped, remembering something. "I have to see to the supper, actually, I think I forgot to check on something boiling downstairs–GINNY, HERMIONE!" she yelled again, looking up the staircase exasperated and soon footsteps were audible.

"You go ahead, we are almost all there," she said apologetically, squeezing Eula's shoulder. "A pleasure to meet you, Emma," she smiled before heading downstairs. .

Kingsley opened the door and ushered them in.

As they stepped into the room, Emma was immediately struck by the grandeur of the surroundings. The room was expansive, its high ceilings adorned with chandeliers. The walls were lined with towering bookshelves, filled to the brim with ancient tomes, there were two large sofas with old velvet upholstery and large armchairs in the sitting area, as well as a dusty piano. In the centre of the room stood a long oval table. Its surface was scattered with parchments, quills, maps, and scattered notes.

"This is the library," said Kingsley. "The place was diligently cleaned last year," he added. Emma nodded, still mesmerised.

The room was also full of people, all Order members. Some of them greeted Eulalia and Kingsley with nods and respectful smiles, and extended a smile of understanding at Emma, who attempted to hide her nerves behind curt nods, her eyes darting around the room, taking in the diverse group of individuals. There was an equal number of men and women, older people and younger groups, almost too young to be in this organisation, she noticed. There were also multiple red-headed members, and she guessed that it was Molly's family.

"Hello, Kingsley," a brunette woman with blue eyes greeted. "And you must be Emily. I've heard a lot about you. I'm Hestia Jones, I am a clerk at the Ministry. Pleased to finally meet you," she added.

"Likewise," Emma replied, smiling.

Hestia's expression shifted slightly as she approached Kingsley and Eula, her voice dropping to a more discreet tone. "We're still waiting on Alastor," she bit her lip. "Oh, and Sirius is actually outside. There seems to be a bit of an issue with the Hippogriff, if you catch my meaning," she said with a small laugh.

"Ah, this blasted beast is still in the backyard," Eula complained. But Emma froze at Hestia's words.

Her blood rushed to her head at the mention of Black's name. She had forgotten his first name was Sirius. It was odd to hear people refer to him on a first name basis, familiarly, even in friendly terms. Without meaning to, her eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of Black's presence, although she knew he was outdoors as the woman said. And what on earth was a hippogriff doing here?

Emma was horrified, but tried to calm her nerves and followed Kingsley as he led them further into the room, following the conversation. Suddenly, one of the red-headed boys she had spotted before approached with a butterbeer in hand.

A mischievous boyish grin stretched across his face, as he stopped next to Emma. "Ah, hello there," the young man greeted. "I couldn't help but notice a new face in the room. Fred Weasley, at your service." Emma wanted to laugh at his unnecessary showing off. He seemed very young–to be in the Order and to flirt with her. She pursed her lips a bit, as the red-headed boy was assessing her.

"Emma. Nice to meet you, Fred," she replied curtly.

Fred leaned against the nearby table, taking a casual sip from his butterbeer. "So, I hear, you are the new healer," he said. "I bet this must keep you busy," he said suggestively.

Emma chuckled. "Well, yes, that depends on what speciality, you know–but yeah, I am the new healer, I suppose. Right from St. Mungo's," she said sarcastically.

"Interesting, you must tell me how that is treating you. I've got this little joke shop with my brother. We specialise in mischief and mayhem. Care to hear a few secrets about our latest pranks? Perhaps, St. Mungo's could use some of that, judging from the atmosphere there mate," he continued.

Emma raised her eyebrows, "Well, I must admit, I've always appreciated a good laugh–especially when patients come in with the side-effects of those–erm–pranks," she said.

"Well, then, I'll have to make sure you're well-acquainted with the finest tricks and pranks in our inventory. Consider it a personal tour, just for you," he continued.

This boy was not more than twenty, and Emma could not be but amused at the boyish banter, but before she could politely decline a tour of the Joke shop, Fred's identical twin, entered the room joined by two other red-headed men who must be his siblings and a very pretty blonde witch.

The other boy, Fred's twin, flashed a mischievous smile, addressing his brother, "Fred, mate, who's this lovely lady you've cornered?"

Fred nudged George with an elbow. "George, meet Emma, she's the healer. She's new to the Order, and I was just telling her about our joke shop."

George's eyes sparkled with interest. "Ah, so you're joining this noble cause? Well, it's a good thing we have skilled healers like you around. After all, our pranks can get a bit... creative. You never know when someone might need a quick fix," he said.

"Well, this is why I am here. For the easy…fixes," she said meaningfully.

The other two were their older brothers, Charlie and Bill and the beautiful woman was called Fleur and she introduced herself as Bill's fiancee in a heavy French accent. Emma glanced at Kingsley, who was engrossed in a conversation with Hestia and an older bearded man with a purple hat. Eulalia had moved across the table and discussed quietly with a tall and lanky wizard who was wearing a very worn cardigan, looked pale and tired, and had odd scars on his neckline and face. He looked familiar…

"Oi, you two! Pack it in! Ain't nobody got time for your cheeky banter," a young woman exclaimed suddenly, as the Weasley twins kept talking about their shop. Emma recognized her immediately, as the woman looked very unique with her vibrant violet hair. She was the Auror at St. Mungo's, Emma realised.

"Alright? I'm Tonks," she said. "Couldn't help but notice the commotion these two were making. You must be the new healer, yeah?"

Emma's eyebrows raised in amusement, intrigued by Tonks' straightforwardness and nodded. "Yeah, that's me. Emma, pleased to meet you" Emma replied.

Tonks still had a strange smirk as she took Emma in, assessing her appearance and biting her lip. This made Emma anxious. This woman was an Auror, after all.

"Have you been at the Order for…uhm…a long time?" asked Emma, wanting to avoid the younger woman's staring.

"Oh, yes–sorry. I have been so distracted. I joined over a year ago. I am an Auror at the Ministry, under Mad Eye," she said proudly.

"Mad Eye?" frowned Emma.

"Alastor Moody," chuckled the other witch. "He is the one who is late, you will get the ' mad eye' reference when you see him," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

As the meeting stretched on, a few more members of the Order began to approach Emma and Tonks, introducing themselves and joining the conversation. As the introductions continued, Emma couldn't help but glance towards the door.

Eventually, the door swung open and a middle aged grizzled man entered with an air of impatience. Emma was certain this was Alastor Moody. His weathered face and grizzled appearance was telling of his profession. Emma could sense the restlessness in his movements, as if he had been itching to get the meeting underway.

She noticed why he was called 'Mad Eye.' Moody's magical eye darted around the room, scanning each individual with a piercing gaze that made Emma briefly shiver. She looked away.

Moody motioned for everyone to take their seats. "Alright, gather round, all of you! We've got business to discuss," Moody barked.

Everyone did as they were told, and suddenly chairs were being lifted from all directions with magic to accommodate the number of people. Tonks swiftly grabbed a chair and placed it next to Eulalia, gesturing for Emma to take a seat.

At the head of the table, Kingsley Shacklebolt positioned himself next to Moody. Across from Emma, the man with peculiar scars was saving a seat next to him, whispering something to Hestia Jone who sat on his other side. Emma made a mental note to learn more about him as the meeting progressed.

It seemed that the meeting was about to start, and the woman named Molly came back in and sat on the other side of the table with her husband and family.

"Where's Sirius?" asked someone from the end of the table. Emma's heart beat very fast at the mention of his name. She should stop that, she berated herself.

The man with the scars across from her stood up. "I will go fetch him, he is just at the back," he began to get up, but before he was up, the door swung open once more.

Emma's gaze immediately fell upon him. Sirius Black appeared slightly dishevelled and entered the room impatiently.

Sirius greeted everyone in the room and kept making his way down the table. Emma couldn't help but notice the striking contrast between his current appearance and the image of him she had held in her mind, frozen in time from all those years ago on Peter's ill-fated birthday.

He was older now and had a ruggedness in his appearance, as he made his way hastily down the table. But even though his appearance differed compared to the carefree and arrogant teenager Emma remembered, he was not bad looking. He actually did not look like someone who had spent so much time in prison either, Emma noted surprised. He was not extremely tall, but tall enough. He had the same high cheekbones, dark hair, tied with an elastic while some strands were casually on his face, he had the same light eyes that contrasted his hair, his jaw was more square and he was unshaven, which added to his rugged looks. He was also wearing an olive green shirt and black trousers that had some traces of dirt on them from whatever he was doing outside.

Breaking free from her momentary reverie, Emma gazed on her lap uncomfortably as Sirius Black took his seat across from her, Eulalia and Tonks. She listened intently as he spoke. "Sorry for the delay, everyone," he quipped. "Had to calm down Buckbeak before joining the party. You know how he gets if I don't stop to say hello," he joked. Some members chuckled and some were not amused.

He had not noticed Emma, as he began chatting with the man next to him, and Emma turned toward Kingsley. She kept clenching and unclenching her hands nervously, trying to not make eye contact, but then the young woman next to her, Tonks, addressed Black directly, which forced him to turn his attention toward them.

"So, Sirius is officially dating Buckbeak, the Hippogriff," she said provocatively, and Black frowned at her interruption, he stilled to look at her and then laughed loudly and heartily. His laugh resembled a bark, it was short and loud, almost commanding. Emma's eyes unintentionally met his gaze and their eyes met for a split second.

It was a fleeting moment, but enough for an undercurrent of anxiety to surge through her veins. Her heart raced, as he regarded her for a moment, the signs of laughter from just before still imprinted on his face. He stopped at her face for a bit, but his expression remained reserved, distanced. Seconds after, he gave her a small nod of recognition, as he probably knew she was the new healer–it was not a greeting, as it was almost imperceptible. Emma's mouth faltered into a half-smile, and she did not linger her gaze either. She could not understand if there was a slight chance for him to remember who she was, but judging from the fact that he quickly turned around to talk to the man next to him, he did not know who she was. She averted her gaze and was thankful that Kingsley started the meeting.

"Welcome back, everyone," said Kingsley. "It's been a bit since our previous meeting. I want to start business by saying that Albus left me to update you on his behalf, as tomorrow is the great feast at Hogwarts and he is already in Scotland. Severus will also not be here for the same reasons" said Kingsley.

Some faint mutterings of understanding and agreement were heard.

"As you know, we are at a critical point. A lot of Death Eaters are actually still in Azkaban, including Malfoy and Nott, but as you also very well know, this will not change much, as Voldemort is still gathering followers in his ranks. We want to act fast and be methodical. So we want to start with our individual and group updates, and then see what is to happen next," he said, looking at a letter from Dumbledore.

Eulalia sighed and made a gesture for him to be quicker. "Ah, yes," replied Kingsley. "We also want to introduce a new member, Healer Emma Franchi who works with my sister and will be joining the Order," he said.

Tonks and Eulalia smiled brightly and Emma gave a smile at Kingsley. Many other members greeted her. The man with the scars across from her also looked at her directly for the first time and smiled politely, something that she returned. But then Black's gaze was also on her and it lingered a little more this time. He still had the same reserved expression when he looked at her but this time he studied her face a little more intently. His body language was also reserved, as he said nothing and simply stood there with his arms crossed. She looked back for a moment, but did not smile.

"Given recent events, such as the events in June at the Department of Mysteries and our various missions, it has become evident that the need for healers within our ranks is paramount," Kingsley continued. "Having full-time healers working alongside us will ensure that we can provide immediate medical assistance when our members are injured or in need of urgent care."

Emma's gaze swept across the room. She could sense the shared understanding and appreciation for the necessity of having healers within their ranks.

"In the coming weeks, we plan to transform a section of our headquarters into a makeshift hospital," Kingsley revealed, his words drawing a mix of interest and relief from the assembled members. "This will allow us to respond swiftly to emergencies, providing a safe haven where our injured comrades can receive the care they require."

As Kingsley's words settled in the room, Emma's mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and questions. What exactly did they expect from her as a healer within the Order? What specific tasks and responsibilities would be assigned to her? The gravity of her role weighed heavily on her, and she felt a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty.

Eulalia's gruff voice gave her an answer to her inner questioning. "We'll need you to take charge of the hospital within our headquarters. You'll be responsible for its operation."

"About time we had someone like you," Moody grumbled, his eye narrowing on Emma's face. "We were blindsided in the past, and we won't make the same mistake again."

His gruff voice continued, outlining an additional duty that made Emma's anxiety spike even higher. "You'll also need to keep an eye on St. Mungo's," he added, his tone brooking no argument. "Monitor any unusual attacks and keep a lookout for any suspicious individuals seeking treatment. We can't afford to overlook any potential threats."

"With the headquarters' makeshift hospital and your vigilance at St. Mungo's, Kingsley continued, "we'll be prepared for anything. We can't afford to have any surprises or vulnerabilities. Lives are at stake, and we won't let history repeat itself."

Emma nodded, absorbing Kingsley and Moody's words.

"Excuse me, Alastor, if I may?" said the older man with the big hat. "Would it be useful to also have healers in the field for such emergent situations?" he asked, looking at Emma with a kind smile.

The room then erupted into debating chatter, mutterings, and disagreement.

Another man with blond hair and an unhealthy pallor in his face , spoke up. "Healers on missions? What are we thinking? We need every wand we can get, not a bunch of medics fussing over a hex!"

Eula, her temper flaring, shot a fiery glare at the man, "Oh, really, Podmore? You're questioning the value of healers now? Let me remind you of the countless times I've saved your sorry arse from hexes that would have left you writhing in pain!"

More members chimed in questioning the use of healers on the field. What would their field experience even be, thought Emma. they were probably duelling and fighting Death Eaters, spying on them. Oh Merlin, what has she gotten herself into?

Eula's anger intensified, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I'm sorry if my wand was busy fixing the more life-threatening injuries while I tended to your oh-so-painful twisted ankle. Next time, I'll be sure to prioritise your minor inconveniences above everything else," she continued antagonising the man from before.

Dedalus, undeterred, replied with a peaceful tone. "But a well-placed Healing Charm can save a life and keep a fighter on their feet. We can't afford to let injuries slow us down, can we?"

Molly Weasley also spoke. "Dedalus has a point. Medical emergency was sudden, and quick medical attention saved him. We can't ignore the importance of healers on the field. Look what happened to Arthur last Christmas," she said looking at the tall red-headed man next to her with a faltering smile.

Moody grumbled under his breath, his eye narrowing suspiciously. "We can't have our fighters dropping like flies. But what about their duelling skills? Can healers hold their own when the curses start flying?" he said looking at Eulalia, who was ready to protest.

More noises of discontent and disagreement were coming from all directions and Emma felt overwhelmed.

"Moody's right," said a male voice from across from her. When Black spoke, a hush fell over the gathering.

He moved his chair back casually and his chin was upward, hands across his chest, as he spoke energetically. "We need wands on the front lines, but having an inept or out-of-practice wizard or witch wielding a wand can be more dangerous than having no wand at all," he said in a deliberate voice.

Emma's eyes narrowed slightly as Black's gaze shifted towards her. She was not sure but she sensed a certain condescension in his voice, as if he regarded healers as lesser in some way. It was a subtle tinge that didn't go unnoticed, as Eulalia started tapping her fingers on the table, irritated.

Black continued, now placing his hands on the table. "Perhaps healers can be stationed at headquarters, in constant communication with us via the Galleons and Patronus calls. They can provide immediate help without compromising their own safety. Or the safety of others," he said, waving his hand at Emma and Eula casually.

The room remained silent for a moment as Black's proposition sank in. Emma, though she felt a sting from his implied belittlement, understood the logic behind his suggestion. It was a pragmatic approach to balance the need for healers with the demands of active combat.

Eulalia, though, was not happy. "Black," she started. "While your idea may hold some merit, it's good that you grasp the concept that healers possess unique skills that can actually save lives in critical moments. You see, we may not be the esteemed duelling experts you so admire, but our ability to provide immediate medical care can make the difference between our comrades breathing or taking their final breaths. It would be wise for us to be allowed to contribute to the field. You folks have botched healing spells and potions many a times, mind you," she said.

Black opened his mouth to reply, but it was the man with the scars next to him that spoke.

"Very well, Eulalia. Your point is noted. We'll take into account the value of healers on the field and explore ways to incorporate their skills effectively. Judging from personal experience, I would think it idiotic to devalue healers, and I am sure that was not what my old friend Sirius meant to say over here," said the man in a calm tone.

"Always, the diplomat, Lupin," said one Order member from the end of the table.

Remus Lupin. Emma turned abruptly and stared at the man, not having made the connection that this exhausted and pale Order member was once her brother's friend. She looked surprised, almost taken aback by his appearance. It was Black who spent years in Azkaban, but Lupin also looked tormented, weathered, even ill.

Tonks had noticed Emma's staring and whispered to her in a longing voice: "That's Remus." Emma was distracted and her cheeks turned pink from the slight embarrassment. She was trying to keep up.

The meeting concluded with a tentative agreement to consider the role of healers further, leaving Emma feeling a mix of relief and mounting overwhelm. As the attendees made their way downstairs for dinner, she joined them, attempting to shake off the weight of the day's events.

But as she entered the bustling dining area, a wave of dizziness and unease washed over Emma, threatening to engulf her senses. The sight of Lupin and Black engaged in a private conversation only intensified her feelings of overwhelm. It was as if a floodgate had opened, and the weight of everything crashed down upon her.

There was Pia.

There was her desire to find out what happened to Peter.

There was also the weight of being a member of the Order with responsibilities.

Feeling her heart race and her breath quicken, Emma knew she needed a moment to collect herself and she excused herself from the supper with a hurried excuse to look for the loo. She quickly ascended the stairs and was relieved that now one was in the waiting corridor outside the library.

Leaning against a cool stone wall, Emma closed her eyes, focusing on regulating her breathing. In the solitude of that corner, she allowed herself to acknowledge the weight she was carrying. The weight of her role as a healer, the weight of the Order's mission, and the weight of her own fears and doubts. How could she manage all that?

She remained there for at least ten minutes, in silence, gathering herself.

She then realised that there was no time for fear and regrets. This was it, she was in now, she would have to dance in the Order's tune. Hastily, she made her way back downstairs, hearing the echoes of chatter and conversations, but she had to stop abruptly because Sirius Black was at the foot of the staircase. The surprise was so sudden that her breath caught in her throat, escaping as a gasp before she could stifle it.

Immediately, she offered an apologetic stammer. "Oh, I-I'm sorry, I was just going back–" she muttered.

Black paused, unstartled. His eyes met Emma's, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something in his gaze. It was a mixture of curiosity and perhaps understanding? "First meetings can be overwhelming, right?" he asked, running a hand through his hair, which was loose now, a little above his shoulders.

"Yah, I suppose. I left because I just needed some air and–" but before she could finish her sentence, Black features contorted with disdain.

"Well, you won't find any fresh air in this house," he said gruffly, gesturing at the place around him. His words carried a tinge of bitterness, even resentment. "But Dumbledore thinks it serves its purpose as headquarters, so" he said.

She was taken aback by his tone and confusion clouded her expression. Sensing her bewilderment, Black raised an eyebrow. "No one told you, did they?" he asked curiously. "This... it's my house."

Shock washed over Emma, freezing her in place. The realisation of standing in the home of Sirius Black–as if talking to him was not difficult enough.

"Oh," she said, surprised. "No, I didn't know."

Black said nothing, just nodded and placed his hands deep in his pockets.

"Well, I should probably go back downstairs," Emma replied, not bearing any more of this idle chat, the proximity between them, it was overwhelming. She would have to get used to his presence though.

Black instinctively moved from the stairs, making space for her to leave. "Of course, carry on," he said and then he paused for a moment, looking at her as if he wanted to say something.

Emma just nodded awkwardly. She hated this–she was never awkward, especially not around any bloke. She berated herself mentally although she knew that it was not many times that one got to meet someone so resented by one's family. It was a sad thought. She imagined what Pia would be like if she could see this conversation.

As she was about to head downstairs, Black's frown was lifted from his features, and his expression softened. "It's good to have more healers at the Order, actually. We can use all the expertise we can get," he said, emphasising the last part. His hands were deep in his pockets, but he was gesticulating with his facial features.

Was he–was he apologetic? He sincerely seemed to want to emphasise the need for healers in the Order.

Emma was speechless for a moment, and then nodded hastily. "Y-yes. I want to contribute as much as I can," she managed to say.

"That's good," said Black and then nodded a wordless goodbye. "See you around then," he added. She swore she could hear him sigh as he ascended the stairs in this house he seemed to hate so much.

Emma almost ran down the stairs into the kitchen and disappeared in the commotion of chattering voices.