Disclaimer: Absolutely not.
Author's Note: Thank you so, so much for the reviews! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story, and that you liked the talk between Sirius and Remus. I thoroughly enjoyed writing that chapter as well.
Thank you to one of my reviewers who gave their condolences for the loss of my dear brother. On March 2, 2023, it will be eleven years. I've picked myself up and gone on, but I will always miss him. He was a major reason I got into Harry Potter fanfiction in the first place, and he's been so much of my inspiration for writing. Severus Snape was his favorite character - he and I had so many discussions over him, especially after Half-Blood Prince came out. Whenever I write these stories, I think about him.
I'm also glad you don't think Sirius's nicknames for Harry are creepy. Merlin, I love writing the relationship between those two. The whole Crash and Burn thing came from memories I had of listening to music with my brother. He and I used to make cassette tapes for each other with our favorite music on them. I will always hold those moments close to my heart.
As for whether there will be a romantic relationship between Harry and Susan... you'll just have to wait and see. I look forward to writing Harry falling in love. I hope you will come to find that it will be a very sweet, loving romance.
Anyway, this chapter introduces a very integral character into the plot. She was in the second Order in canon, but we know absolutely nothing about her. She's rather a clean slate, and I feel like I've been given a chance to really flesh her out and make her very important. She's going to play a huge role in the story. I'm honestly not sure what her blood status is in canon, because we really don't know a lot about her. But for this story, I'm making her Muggle-born. Jones is such a common surname that we don't know for certain whether she's related to Gwenog Jones, the Quidditch player, or not. I hope you don't mind that I am making it so that she isn't.
I really hope you enjoy this chapter. And make sure you pay attention to when she talks about Sturgis. You're certainly going to see her opinion change on him. It's amazing how opinions can completely do a 180 about people. I've definitely come to learn that in my life. Sometimes, it's the person you least suspect that saves you from the darkness.
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It was a place she would always cherish, a place where she had realized her potential. When she'd first seen the magnificent castle at the age of eleven as she'd sat in the boat with several others, she knew that the next seven years were going to be the most profound times of her life.
And she was right. Throughout her seven years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she had learned so much. Being Muggle-born, she had realized something was different about her; she'd made strange things happen when she was filled with joy, sadness, or rage. She had understood early on that when her emotions were particularly raw, interesting things would happen around her. Her parents had been bewildered by the whole thing, and so had her brother. Her dear, sweet older brother, who had always been a ball of energy. Her brother, who was a Muggle, but was magical without owning a wand. He had been so happy for her when she began her magical education, and he was forever asking questions about the world of wizardry.
As she'd gone through her first four years of Hogwarts, the First War with Lord Voldemort was constantly in the Daily Prophet, and it had made its way into the school, infesting every room it touched. She'd been a Gryffindor, and she'd watched in horror as many of her friends lost loved ones in horrendous battles, or cowardly attacks that happened in the middle of the night. The Dark Mark was a symbol of fear that no one wanted to see.
She'd spent so many nights in the Gryffindor common room, terror gripping her as she worried about her incredible family. The term "Mudblood" had been muttered at her often, and she understood what it meant all too well. She watched as Muggle-born students were sent to Dumbledore's office, receiving the news that their families had been murdered in cold blood. It happened to many half-bloods and purebloods too, so she knew everyone who disagreed with Voldemort's horrific ideals was a target. It was all she could do not to completely fall apart as those terrifying days went on and on.
She understood the superstition of saying Voldemort's name, but she also understood those who said that a name was just a name, and you shouldn't fear it. Therefore, she was one of the few who called him by his name, causing her friends to shudder and ask her to stop saying it. She explained to them that she was terrified of what he could do, but not of his name.
And then, one day, the worst had happened. She had been sitting in the Great Hall, enjoying a breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, sausage, and crispy potatoes, topped off with a glass of world-famous pumpkin juice. She distinctly remembered the taste of it - even years later, this memory was so vivid in her mind.
"Hestia, dear." Professor McGonagall, normally a very stern, no-nonsense woman that no one wanted to get on the bad side of, had gazed at Hestia Jones with eyes full of sadness and compassion. "Come with me to the Headmaster's office."
"Oh Merlin. I am so sorry," her friend Victoria whispered as Hestia heard her ears ringing, and all the blood drained from her face. The world was spinning around her - McGonagall didn't need to tell her what had happened. She could guess - she'd seen it happen too many times to others. Now it was her turn to go through the horror of it. It was too much for the fifteen-year-old to bear.
Numbly, she had followed McGonagall to Dumbledore's office, neither professor or student saying anything at all. What could possibly be said, anyway? What words could truly capture the way this felt?
And as soon as she'd arrived there, what she'd dreaded hearing became all too real. Dumbledore offered her a cup of tea, but she refused. She hated how he sat there, sorrow in his blue eyes which showed no sign of a single twinkle. He was calm, though, and it proved to Hestia just how many times he'd had to do this.
"I am so sorry, Hestia," the old man had said as he looked at the young girl. "The Death Eaters showed up at your home last night. Your mother and brother ... Hestia, there's no easy way to say this. Neither of them survived."
The days after that had been a blur of grief and rage and hate and fear and confusion. She'd been sent home to be with her father - thank Merlin he hadn't been home, or doubtless he would have been lost too. He was in the United States on a business trip, but had rushed home upon hearing the news; Hestia had known where he was going, as she regularly corresponded with her family. He had been contacted and told the devastating truth, that his wife and son were gone.
When Hestia returned to school a week after the double funeral, she felt like a different person. She was much angrier than she had been, and she was sick of people telling her everything was going to be okay. Nighttime became her refuge - no one tried to reassure her of anything when the world was asleep. She could just sit in the common room by the fire and feel as angry, desperate, and heartsick as she bloody wanted without the world judging her for it.
And then, two months into her fifth year of her magical education, the war was suddenly over. A little boy named Harry Potter had survived the impossible, bringing Voldemort's reign of terror to an abrupt, but joyous, conclusion. For the first time, she actually felt like there was something worth living for. All classes were cancelled for a week, as no one was focused on anything but celebrating. If a student wanted to go home and be with their family, they had the opportunity to do so. Hestia grasped that chance in both hands, and went to be with her dad. They laughed and cried together, sharing sweet memories of her mother and brother. Both of them knew they weren't alone.
But now, as she sat inside the staff room of Hogwarts all these years later, that same dread that had consumed her fourteen years ago was back. She'd heard the rumblings and the rumors, the warnings. She'd read the writing on the wall right after the Death Eaters attacked the Quidditch World Cup with no subtlety or discretion, with no regard for the consequences. She'd seen the world grow considerably darker around her. When she was a young girl, she liked to think she had Seer blood pumping through her veins. But now, as an adult, she knew the truth - there was not a drop of that in her body. She was only paying attention to the signs that were making themselves known. There was darkness on the horizon, and it sickened her. She had always been a person that was riddled with anxiety, but now, she felt like she was having panic attacks every other day.
She sat and observed as many other Order members trickled into the room. Her boyfriend, Dedalus Diggle, smiled at her. Dedalus was three years older than her, and they had been in Gryffindor together. He had tutored her in Arithmancy - she hadn't realized how difficult the subject would be. She had developed a crush on him during their sessions, appreciating his patience, humor, wit, and kind nature, but had lacked the courage to confess at the time. What would he want with her, anyway? He was three years older and had way more interesting things to do than date a silly little thing like her. It was only later, after they'd lost touch for several years and then came back together, that sparks flew. Hestia worked as an Auror, and he worked in the Department of Magical Transportation. He'd begun work there four years ago, and she had ran into him in the Ministry cafeteria. They'd struck up a conversation, and the rest, they say, is history. They were now living together in a nice, cozy little house in Kent.
Dedalus told her that upon graduating Hogwarts in the summer of 1981, he had joined the Order of the Phoenix. He confessed with an embarrassed flush on his face that when he'd heard the war was over, he had been the one to send up shooting stars that Muggles had noticed. He'd avoided getting in trouble for it by the skin of his teeth, as no one had bothered to prove that it was actually him who performed that magic - everyone was far too excited at the defeat of Voldemort to really pursue it. But he'd admitted it to Hestia, and she wasn't about to tell anyone.
She had only been fifteen when the war ended, and therefore, she had been too young to join the Order. She would have given anything to be fighting; she desperately wanted to avenge her mother and brother. It made sense, then, that when she graduated from Hogwarts, she subjected herself to a battery of tests that would hopefully see her getting into the Auror program. Passing them had been more difficult than she was prepared for - being someone who was full of anxiety even through peacetime, it was hard for her to not let that get in the way. She would have loved to say she passed them with flying colors, but she didn't. She barely scraped by, and she was more disappointed in herself than she had ever been.
But the fact of the matter was, she'd made it. She was an Auror. She hadn't failed her mother and brother. She had pursued her dreams, and achieved them.
But it wasn't easy. There were days when she woke up, unsure of how she was able to function. The anxiety would hit her so hard at times, and her boss, Rufus Scrimgeour, noticed. She had been told countless times that if she didn't shape up, she'd be kicked out of the Auror core. If, Merlin forbid, she was ever in a real life-or-death situation, it would not help herself or others to freeze in panic. Once, Rufus had told her outright, "Perhaps this is not the best fit for you, Miss Jones."
That had happened two years ago, and that night, she'd come home and cried herself to sleep in Dedalus's arms. He'd hushed her quietly, whispering gentle reassurances in her ear. Then, he'd spoken very honestly about it to her.
"I think Scrimgeour is wrong," he'd said, taking her hand in his. He was more serious than she'd ever seen him, and she knew she had to pay attention. "There's things you need to work on, Hestia, but that's true for all of us. I have my flaws and insecurities too, Merlin knows I do." He reached out and stroked her hair with his other hand. "But tell me ... are you an Auror because you want to be one, or because you feel like you have to be one?"
Hestia could understand why he asked. After all, he knew the story of what had happened to her mother and brother. "I've thought about that, too," she said quietly. "Honestly? It's because I want to be one. Neither my mum or Aaron would care what I decided to do with my life. But I need action, Dedalus. This career feels right to me."
And that night, she vowed to put a lot more effort into working on her anxiety issues, and Dedalus wanted nothing more than to help her. She was desperate to prove herself as an Auror, and not lose herself along the way.
And now, things had gotten an awful lot harder, just in the span of a month. When they'd read the news in the Prophet about Cedric Diggory's dead body coming out of the maze at the Third Task, Harry Potter being accused of murder, and Albus Dumbledore being taken into custody for questioning, both Hestia and Dedalus knew things were spiraling out of control. There was so much speculation about what was going on, but Hestia had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. When the Prophet made snide comments about Harry claiming that Voldemort had returned, Hestia knew the boy was not lying. She didn't know Harry Potter personally, and couldn't fully explain why she wholeheartedly believed what he was saying, but she did. That was another night that she cried herself to sleep, knowing that the world had become much, much darker.
Several days later, the couple had been eating dinner when the doorbell rang. Both were prepared and alert, and Hestia felt her heart race and her hands go clammy. One hand had reached into her pocket, her fingers wrapping around the security of her wand. She was not afraid of her own death, but she was terrified at the prospect of losing the man she loved more than life itself. It had been two years now that they'd been living together, and they'd been dating for two before that. Their time together had been completely amazing. She would fight, with every cell in her body, for a chance for many more years.
But when Dedalus opened the door, it was someone rather ... unique standing on the doorstep. It was someone Hestia knew, and wasn't altogether surprised to see, when she thought about it.
It was Sturgis Podmore. Sturgis worked as an Auror, and had also been an original Order member. He was about ten years older than her, so they had never crossed paths at Hogwarts. Hestia definitely found Sturgis interesting, but he wasn't someone she was all that enthused about spending time with. He came off as rather arrogant, and was quite boastful about how much he knew. He could literally talk for hours upon hours about certain subjects, and it was interesting hearing what he had to say. However, after a long day at the Ministry, she wanted him to shut up once in a while. Didn't his throat get sore from talking so damned much? How did one single human being have so much bloody energy? Did the man ever sleep? She felt as though he prevented the other Aurors from leaving by continuing to talk at them. He obviously didn't force them to stay, but Hestia felt like she was being rude if she left. So she'd sit in her cubicle and listen as Sturgis prattled on and on and on about some apparently fascinating research concerning some spell or charm, and after a while, it started to sound like blah, blah, blah. Damn it, when was he going to bloody shut up?
But when he showed up on Hestia and Dedalus's doorstep, asking them if they wished to join the Order, it wasn't even something they had to consider. So what if it meant spending more time with Sturgis? They could deal with him if it meant doing the right thing. Some things were way more important than petty opinions about people she truly knew nothing about.
A few days later, she and Dedalus were at Hogwarts, attending the first Order meeting of the Second War against Voldemort. Dedalus had told her what it had been like attending Order meetings the first time around, although he had only been a member for several months before the war had ended. "It was a rough time, Hestia," he'd said quietly, sounding very somber as he recalled those days. "There was a traitor among us, and You-Know-Who was picking us off one by one."
"Say Voldemort, Dedalus." Hestia had squeezed his hand. "There's too much else about him to fear to be afraid of saying his name." She truly didn't understand how he, as a Muggle-born, could have succumbed to that stupid superstition.
"Fine," Dedalus had said, not sounding at all happy about it. "Voldemort."
And at that very first Order meeting, Hestia had become privy to information she was still stunned to have learned. Fury at the wizarding justice system warred with compassion and sympathy for a man who had suffered for twelve years for a crime he didn't commit. It had been Peter Pettigrew, not Sirius, who had been the traitor fourteen years ago, the traitor who had taken so many precious lives from the Order.
That first meeting was an eye-opener. McGonagall had been leading it, as Dumbledore was still being held at the Ministry for questioning. No one knew what was happening to him - not even Kingsley was aware of anything. "Our illustrious Minister has been keeping me ignorant, as he knows I am sympathetic to Dumbledore," he'd said apologetically. "He's only letting the Aurors he trusts have anything to do with the questioning."
There had been much speculation on where Harry Potter was, too. McGonagall cut that speculation short, however, by telling them what she knew. Sirius had been at Hogwarts in his dog form on the night of the Third Task, and it was he who had taken Harry away from the threat the Aurors posed. Kingsley had admitted to being the one that was misinforming the Ministry of Sirius's whereabouts; this caused Hestia's respect for him to rise. He was putting his career in a lot of danger by doing such a thing.
"Shouldn't we try to find them, so we can help them?" one of the other new recruits, Nymphadora Tonks, had asked. "That poor kid has been through so much."
"He has," Minerva agreed, having filled everyone in on the order of events, including a petition by a Hufflepuff to kick the boy out of the school. Unfortunately, Hestia could understand the boy's mindset, although she knew how cruel and unfair it was. Harry was an innocent victim, and the fact that the darkest wizard in a century and his evil henchmen were gunning for his blood was in no way his fault. But if this whole situation with the murder accusations ever smoothed over ... Hestia still saw the petition being a problem, especially if parents were terrified of having their children in the same school as Harry, one of Voldemort's prime targets. The whole thing was so grossly unfair that it sent a stab of pain through Hestia's heart. That day, she came to terms with something that made her feel like the world's worst person - if she'd been going to school at this time, she'd have signed the petition, no matter her sympathy for a young boy who didn't deserve any of this. She remembered the many nights she'd stayed awake in the common room, terrified for the fate of her friends and family. If she thought her schoolmates would be safer if Harry wasn't around ... Merlin, the thought was awful.
And she was sure that there would come a day when she would, inevitably, meet Harry. How would she be able to look him in the eye? She'd always been told that her feelings were easy to read. He'd know instantly that she felt guilty over something, and she couldn't bear to tell him the truth.
But now, as she sat in the staff room at another Order meeting McGonagall was conducting, she knew she had to focus on the tasks at hand. She smiled back at Dedalus as McGonagall stood, ready to call the meeting to order.
After she had done so, she asked if anyone had any important information to give out since the last meeting, which had been a week ago. Remus Lupin instantly raised his hand, looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Hestia remembered how, at the first Order meeting, Remus had admitted his condition to the entire membership. The look on his face ... Hestia realized it had taken every ounce of courage he possessed for him to do so. To the Order's credit, though, all of them had been very accepting. All, except one.
If there was one person in the Order Hestia had a supremely hard time trusting, it was Severus Snape. She'd heard about the Death Eater trials at the end of the First War, when Dumbledore had vouched for him and informed the wizarding community that he had been the Order's spy. And apparently, he had been given the job again. But as he'd looked at Remus with a nasty sneer on his face, Hestia truly doubted the Hogwarts Headmaster and Order leader. Hestia knew that there had been a nasty history between the group that called themselves the Marauders and Snape - after all, she had attended school with them for her first year. Being so many years younger, she didn't associate with James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter, but there was no one who attended school with them that didn't know who the Marauders were. Lily and James were Head Boy and Girl, and she'd seen their relationship grow. She wondered what she would say if Harry ever asked her whether she went to school with his parents.
And then, Hestia had the distinct ... misfortune of having Snape teach her Potions during her last few years at Hogwarts. She'd hated him from the moment she stepped into his classroom - there wasn't a day that went by that a snide barb didn't leave his mouth. It sure as hell didn't make her want to learn Potions. She only went through with the subject because she wanted to be an Auror.
And even now, as Remus was speaking, Snape was sneering at him. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to.
"You heard from Sirius?" McGonagall said sharply, at full attention.
"I did." Remus gave McGonagall a small smile.
"Merlin bless the man," Sturgis murmured, and Hestia couldn't help but wonder whether there was some kind of history between the two of them as well. Whenever he heard Sirius's name, there was a guilt-stricken look on his face that Hestia wasn't sure she wanted to know the origins of.
"Did he tell you where they are?" asked Kingsley Shacklebolt. "How is Harry doing? How's Sirius?"
"From what I saw, Harry is being taken very good care of," Remus reported, his voice warm. "I know where they are, but he is very wary of telling many people."
"Good for him," Mad-Eye Moody growled. Hestia was glad he had fully recovered from the vicious ordeal he'd been put through in the past year. "With the way both of them have been treated, I'm glad he's keeping people away."
"Has he seen any of his friends?" asked Dedalus. "Or has it just been him and Sirius this whole time?"
Molly Weasley spoke up, her voice full of emotion. "We got to see him several days ago," she relayed quietly. "It's obvious how much he's been through. He doesn't deserve any of it."
"Are you sure he's safe with Sirius?" Emmeline Vance asked warily. "I mean, forgive me for saying this, but that man can't be sane after spending so long in Azkaban. How do we know that he isn't a danger to Harry?"
Hestia observed as a strange look crossed Molly's face at this. Honestly, she couldn't help but wonder this herself. For years, she'd heard about the effects the Dementors had on people. Even after Remus explained how Sirius had apparently withstood their effects, Hestia couldn't say she trusted it completely.
"Exactly," Snape sneered. "For once, you are speaking common sense, Vance, something that many in this organization seem to lack."
"Severus." McGonagall's voice was sharp, bringing back memories of when she'd been Hestia's Head of House and Transfiguration teacher. "That is quite enough. You will not speak to us so rudely. I am not Albus, and will not tolerate such disrespect from you."
Snape said nothing, but his facial expression said all too clearly that he did not appreciate being chastised like a schoolboy who had spoken out of turn.
"Honestly? Sirius is doing a much better job taking care of Harry than I can say for many of the adults in his life," Remus said, and Hestia could detect self-loathing in his voice. "He is making sure he's keeping up with his schoolwork, and that his emotional needs are being met. After what happened ..." He sighed sadly. "He needs a lot of looking after."
Snape snorted, seemingly unable to help himself. "That boy does not need to be coddled," he said contemptuously. "He needs to understand what this war will involve."
"And he will, Severus." Remus's voice was calm on the surface, but there was an edge to it. "But he has never had the chance to heal from any of the ordeals that have been thrust upon him. He is only a boy."
"A boy who has a prophecy to fulfil," Snape growled. "Or are you so eager to see the events of fourteen years ago happen again?"
"You are unbelievable, Snape. Expecting a child to do the work that we grown adults should be doing," Hestia burst out, unable to keep her thoughts inside. Her guilt over her ponderings on the petition, coupled with the knowledge that she'd discovered at the first Order meeting - that there was a prophecy that involved Harry and Voldemort, made her lash out. What did Snape truly have against Harry anyway?
"Hestia is right, Severus," Remus said, struggling to keep his voice level. "It doesn't matter what some prophecy says. It is our job to protect Harry from danger, not throw him directly into it." He sighed, the sadness in his eyes unmistakable. "Since I talked with Sirius the other day, I've been doing a lot of thinking," he said softly. "He's given me a lot to ponder. Though I heard rumors while I was teaching at Hogwarts, I never exactly understood what Harry's been through since arriving at eleven. I think a part of me didn't want to know, either. I've been a complete coward." He sighed dejectedly again. "So I asked Harry directly about it. And it was an absolutely horrible wake-up call."
There was a devastated look on his face as he told the entire Order about what Harry had been subjected to, the trials and tribulations that had befallen him. To say that Hestia was shocked was an understatement. Disgust didn't even begin to cover it. She couldn't help but stare at Minerva McGonagall with an utterly betrayed expression - she knew how loyal her Head of House was to Dumbledore, but she never imagined the strict, stern professor would let this go on for so long.
There was a stunned silence after Remus had finished speaking. "Has anyone heard from Albus?" Sturgis said finally. "Has there been hide or hair of him since he somehow escaped the Ministry's clutches?"
"No," McGonagall said shortly. "There has not. Has anyone else heard from him?"
Everyone in the room shook their heads. "We have no idea where he is," Kingsley murmured. "But I have no doubt he will show himself before long."
"Well, if I know one thing for sure, we need to make a commitment to protect Potter," Moody snarled, his magical eye rolling around in its socket. "We must not only protect him from his enemies."
Everyone knew what Moody was implying, and Hestia felt something cold settle over her heart. She locked eyes with Dedalus, who looked both horrified and full of resolve at the same time. Dumbledore hadn't just fallen off the pedestal so many of the Order had placed him on - no, he had crashed to the ground and broken into a million pieces.
And Hestia vowed that no matter what happened, she would make sure this mission was successful. She would not allow panic or anxiety to rule her - this was too important. She had joined the Order for a very good reason. Mum, Aaron, give me the strength to do what must be done, she thought as she straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. I still need you.