Again, I think this will be more Rowling than my own, but I'm gonna try and Ron it up as best I can, without destroying exactly what happens.

I'll for sure make up for it when Harry has to go to trial.

Chapter 120: Fighting The House

Mum followed us upstairs looking grim.

"I want you all to go straight to bed, no talking," she said as we reached the first landing, "we've got a busy day tomorrow. I expect Ginny's asleep," she added to Hermione, 'so try not to wake her up."

"Asleep, yeah, right," said Fred in an undertone, after Hermione said goodnight and we were climbing to the next floor. "If Ginny's not lying awake waiting for Hermione to tell her everything they said downstairs then I'm a Flobberworm..."

"All right, Ron, Harry," said Mum on the second landing, pointing us into our bedroom like we were fucking five. "Off to bed with you."

"Night," Harry and I said to the twins.

"Sleep tight," said Fred, winking.

Mum closed the door behind Harry with a sharp snap. The blank picture on the wall was now breathing very slowly and deeply, as though it's invisible occupant was asleep. Harry put on his pyjamas, took off his glasses, and climbed into his chilly bed while I threw Owl Treats up on top of the wardrobe to pacify Hedwig and Pig, who were clattering around and rustling their wings restlessly.

"We can't let them out to hunt every night,"I explained as I pulled on my hideous maroon pyjamas. 'Dumbledore doesn't want too many owls swooping around the square, thinks it'll look suspicious. Oh yeah ... I forgot..."

I went and bolted the door, thinking there was no need for it to be unlocked. Hermione wouldn't dare sneak in while Harry was here.

"What're you doing that for?"

"Kreacher. First night I was here he came wandering in at three in the morning. Trust me, you don't want to wake up and find him prowling around your room. Anyway, what d'you reckon?"

Harry didn't need to ask what I meant.

"Well, they didn't tell us much we couldn't have guessed, did they?" he said. "I mean, all they've really said is that the Order's trying to stop people joining Voldemort. When are you going to start using his name? Sirius and Lupin do."

I ignored him. "Yeah, you're right. We already knew nearly everything they told us, from using the Extendable Ears. The only new bit was-"

Crack.

"OUCH! BLOODY FUCK!" I yelled.

'Keep your voice down, Ron, or Mum'll be back up here."

"You two just Apparated on my knees, you fucking wankers!"

"Yeah, well, it's harder in the dark."

Fred and George had popped into the room (right on top of my fucking legs, mind you). They went and say down on Harry's bed.

"So, got there yet?" said George eagerly.

"The weapon Sirius mentioned?" said Harry.

"Let slip, more like," said Fred with relish, as he moved back to my bed, sitting next to me. 'We didn't hear about that on the old Extendables, did we?"

"What d'you reckon it is?" said Harry.

"Could be anything," said Fred.

"But there can't be anything worse than the Avada Kedavra curse, can there?" I asked. 'What's worse than death?"

"Maybe it's something that can kill loads of people at once," suggested George.

"Maybe it's some particularly painful way of killing people," I guessed.

"He's got the Cruciatus Curse for causing pain," said Harry, "he doesn't need anything more efficient than that."

There was a moment of silence where I was thinking. What the bloody hell could be worse than just taking a life?

"So who d'you think's got it now?" asked George.

"I hope it's our side," I said, nervously.

"If it is, Dumbledore's probably keeping it," said Fred.

"Where?" I wondered. "Hogwarts?"

"Bet it is!' said George. "That's where he hid the Sorcerer's Stone.'

'A weapon's going to be a lot bigger than the Stone, though!"

"Not necessarily," said Fred.

"Yeah, size is no guarantee of power," said George. "Look at Ginny."

"What d'you mean?" said Harry.

"You've never been on the receiving end of one of her Bat-Bogey Hexes, have you?"

"Shhh!" said Fred, half-rising from the bed. "Listen!"

We fell silent. Footsteps were coming up the stairs.

"Mum," said George and without further ado there was a loud crack and the twins were gone. A few seconds later, we heard the floorboard creak outside our door; Mum was listening to check whether or not we were talking. Ridiculous.

Hedwig and Pigwidgeon hooted dolefully. The floorboard creaked again and they heard her heading upstairs to check on Fred and George.

"She doesn't trust us at all, you know," I said with a sigh.

Harry shrugged and laid back down. I turned over and faced the wall.

Despite the room being comfortably warm, I couldn't help but feel a tad bit cold. Perhaps it was because I was craving body heat, but with Mum lurking about, there was no way Hermione would even make an attempt.

After what seemed like mere minutes I was awakened by George's annoying voice. Everything annoyed me when I didn't wake up on my own terms.

"Mum says get up, your breakfast is in the kitchen and then she needs you in the drawing room, there are loads more doxys than she thought and she's found a nest of dead puffskeins under the sofa."

Half an hour later, Harry and I rushed through breakfast and quickly, entered the drawing room, a long, high-ceilinged room on the first floor with olive-green walls covered in dirty tapestries. The curtains were buzzing as though swarming with invisible bees. Mum (who didn't look too much chipper) Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George were standing near it with cloths over their nose and mouth. Each of them was also holding a large bottle of black liquid with a nozzle at the end.

'Cover your faces and take a spray,' Mum said to us the moment she saw us, pointing to two more bottles of black liquid standing on a spindle-legged table. "It's Doxycide. I've never seen an infestation this bad-what that house-elf's been doing for the last ten years-"

"Not a damn thing." I whispered to Harry, who grinned.

Hermione's face was half concealed by a tea towel, but I could tell by the way she darted her eyes a Mum, that she didn't like the comment.

"Kreacher's really old, he probably couldn't manage-"

"You'd be surprised what Kreacher can manage when he wants to, Hermione," said Sirius, who had just entered the room carrying a bloodstained bag of what appeared to be dead rats.

"I've just been feeding Buckbeak. I keep him upstairs in my mother's bedroom. Anyway ... this writing desk..."

He dropped the bag of rats into an armchair, then bent over to examine the locked cabinet which was shaking slightly.

"Well, Molly, I'm pretty sure this is a boggart," said Sirius, peering through the keyhole, "but perhaps we ought to let Mad-Eye have a shifty at it before we let it out-knowing my mother, it could be something much worse."

"Right you are, Sirius," said Mum.

They were both speaking in oddly cordial and somewhat forced polite tones, indicating that neither party was over what happened last night.

A loud, clanging bell sounded from downstairs, followed at once by the cacophony of screams and wails that had been triggered the previous night by Tonks knocking over the umbrella stand.

"I keep telling them not to ring the doorbell!" said Sirius, hurrying out of the room. We heard him rushing down the stairs as Mrs. Black's screeches echoed up through the house once more: "Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth..."

"Close the door, please, Harry," said Mum.

Harry went to the for and began to closer it as slowly as a small. It was clear that he was trying to catch some of the words coming from downstairs. However, Mum gave him a very cold stare, and he regretfully closed the drawing-room door the rest of the way and rejoined the doxy party.

Mum was actually taking advice from one of those god awful Lockhart books to do this: Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests.

"Right, you lot, you need to be careful, because doxys bite and their teeth are poisonous. I've got a bottle of antidote here, but I'd rather nobody needed it."

Oh yeah, great words Mum. Because that would really make us want to do this job.

She straightened up, positioned herself squarely in front of the curtains and beckoned us all forward.

"When I say the word, start spraying immediately," she said. "They'll come flying out at us, I expect, but it says on the sprays one good squirt will paralyse them. When they're immobilized, just throw them in this bucket."

She stepped carefully out of our line of fire, and raised her own spray.

"All right-squirt!"

At first it was kind of intimidating, having the buggers jump out at you, but after a minute or so, spraying them actually became quite fun. Ginny and I started to make a game over how many we were capturing of the fairy-like, thick black haired creatures with silver wings. Hermione looked as if she didn't want to enjoy it, but I could tell she was.

"Fred, what are you doing?" said Mum sharply. "Spray that at once and throw it away!"

Fred was holding a struggling doxy between his forefinger and thumb. "Right-o,"he said brightly, spraying the doxy quickly in the face so that it fainted, but the moment Mum's back was turned he pocketed it with a wink, and he and George started whispering to Harry about something.

"What do you reckon?" I whispered to Ginny and Hermione, gesturing for them to look at their interaction.

Both Ginny and Hermione shrugged. "Who knows with the two of them." said Ginny.

"And with Harry." finished Hermione. "Hopefully they don't rope him into anything foolish. He already has a lot on his plate, what with the trial and all."

"You're right. Last thing he needs is something else for the ministry to say he's barmy about." I mumbled.

The de-doxying of the curtains took most of the morning. It was past midday when Mum finally removed her protective scarf, sank into a sagging armchair, and sprang up again with a cry of disgust, having sat on the bag of dead rats. The curtains were no longer buzzing; they hung limp and damp from the intensive spraying; unconscious doxys lay crammed in the bucket at the foot of them beside a bowl of their black eggs, at which Crookshanks was now sniffing and Fred and George were shooting greedy looks.

"I think we'll tackle those after lunch." said Mum, pointing at the dusty glass-fronted cabinets standing on either side of the mantelpiece, crammed with an odd assortment of objects: a selection of rusty daggers, claws, a coiled snakeskin, a number of tarnished silver boxes inscribed with languages I had never seen before, and a crystal bottle with a large opal set into the stopper, full of what looked like blood.

I groaned. Couldn't we have an afternoon of rest for once?

The clanging doorbell rang again. Everyone looked at Mum.

"Stay here," she said firmly, snatching up the bag of rats as Mrs. Black's screeches started up again from down below. "I'll bring up some sandwiches."

She left the room, closing the door carefully behind her. At once, we all dashed over to the window to look down on the doorstep. We could see the top of an unkempt gingery head and a stack of balanced cauldrons.

'Mundungus!" said Hermione. "What's he brought all those cauldrons for?"

"Probably looking for a safe place to keep them," suggested Harry. "Isn't that what he was doing the night he was supposed to be tailing me? Picking up dodgy cauldrons?"

'Yeah, you're right!' said Fred, as the front door opened; Mundungus heaved his cauldrons through it and disappeared from view. "Blimey, Mum won't like that..."

He and George crossed to the door and stood beside it, listening closely. Mrs. Black's screaming had stopped.

"Mundungus is talking to Sirius and Kingsley," Fred muttered, frowning with concentration. 'Can't hear properly ... d'you reckon we can risk the Extendable Ears?"

"Might be worth it," said George. "I could sneak upstairs and get a pair-"

But at that moment, we heard the thunderous yells of Mum, thus making the Ears unnecessary.

'WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!"

"I love hearing Mum shouting at someone else," said Fred, with a satisfied smile on his face as he opened the door an inch or so to allow Mum's voice in, "it makes such a nice change."

"-COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN'T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS INTO THE HOUSE-"

"The idiots are letting her get into her stride," said George, shaking his head. "You've got to head her off early otherwise she builds up a head of steam and goes on for hours. And she's been dying to have a go at Mundungus ever since he sneaked off when he was supposed to be following you, Harry-and there goes Sirius's mum again."

Mum's voice was now being drowned out my Mrs. Black's banshee like screams, taunts, and insults. George made to shut the door to drown the noise, but before he could do so, Kreacher crept his creepy ass in the room.

"Oh, bloody hell, here we go." I moaned.

The elf took absolutely no notice of us at first. Acting as though je could not see us, he shuffled hunchbacked, slowly and doggedly, towards the far end of the room, all the while muttering under its breath in a hoarse, deep voice like a bullfrog's, "..smells like a drain and a criminal to boot, but she's no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my mistress's house, oh, my poor mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let into her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh, the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do..."

"Hello, Kreacher," said Fred very loudly, closing the door with a snap.

Kreacher stopped dead in his tracks, stopped muttering, and gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise.

"Kreacher did not see Young Master," he said, turning around and bowing to Fred. Still lacing the carpet, he added, perfectly audibly, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."

'Sorry?' said George. 'Didn't catch that last bit.'

"Kreacher said nothing," said the elf, with a second bow to George, adding in a clear undertone, "and there's its twin, unnatural little beasts they are."

Harry looked as if he wanted to laugh, but thought better of it. Kreacher straightened up, eyeing us all as if we were the plague, and apparently convinced that we could not hear him as he continued to mutter.

"...and there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my mistress knew (I threw a doxy at him for that, but Hermione pushed my arm slightly and I missed), oh, how she'd cry, and there's a new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name. What is he doing here? Kreacher doesn't know..."

"This is Harry, Kreacher,' said Hermione, speaking to him as if he didn't just call her a Mudblood. "Harry Potter."

Kreacher's pale eyes widened and he muttered faster and more furiously than ever.

"The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is my friend, if Kreacher's mistress saw him in such company, oh, what would she say-"

"Don't call her a Mudblood!" said Ginny and I together, very angrily.

"It doesn't matter,"Hermione whispered, "he's not in his right mind, he doesn't know what he's-"

"Don't kid yourself, Hermione, he knows exactly what he's saying," said Fred, eyeing Kreacher with great dislike.

"Exactly. Stop making excuses for him because of spew."

"IT'S S.P.E.W!"

Kreacher was still muttering, his eyes on Harry.

"Is it true? Is it Harry Potter? Kreacher can see the scar, it must be true, that's the boy who stopped the Dark Lord, Kreacher wonders how he did it-"

"Don't we all, Kreacher," said Fred.

"What do you want, anyway?" George asked.

Kreacher's huge eyes darted towards George.

"Kreacher is cleaning," he said evasively.

"A likely story," said a voice behind Harry.

Sirius had come back; he was glowering at the elf from the doorway. No longer was Mum's voice booming.

At the sight of Sirius, Kreacher flung himself into a ridiculously low bow that flattened his snout like nose on the floor.

"Stand up straight," said Sirius impatiently. "Now, what are you up to?"

"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf repeated. "Kreacher lives to serve the Noble House of Black-"

"-and it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy," said Sirius.

"Master always liked his little joke," said Kreacher, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, "Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart-"

"My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher," snapped Sirius. "She kept herself alive out of pure spite."

Kreacher bowed again as he spoke.

"Whatever Master says," he muttered furiously. "Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother's boots, oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was-"

"I asked you what you were up to," said Sirius coldly. *Every time you show up pretending to be cleaning, you sneak something off to your room so we can't throw it out."

"Kreacher would never move anything from its proper place in Master's house," said the elf, then muttered very fast, "Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown out, seven centuries it's been in the family, Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and the blood traitors and the brats destroy it-"

"I thought it might be that." said Sirius, casting a disdainful look at the opposite wall. "She'll have put another Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, I don't doubt, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will. Now go away, Kreacher."

Kreacher did not dare disobey a direct order; nevertheless, the look he gave Sirius as he shuffled out past him was full of deepest loathing and he muttered all the way out of the room.

"-comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's a murderer too-"

"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!" said Sirius irritably as he slammed the door shut on the elf.

"Sirius, he's not right in the head," Hermione pleaded, "I don't think he realises we can hear him."

"He's been alone too long," said Sirius, "taking mad orders from my mother's portrait and talking to himself, but he was always a foul little-"

"If you could just set him free," said Hermione hopefully, "maybe-"

"We can't set him free, he knows too much about the Order," said Sirius. "And anyway, the shock would kill him. You suggest to him that he leaves this house, see how he takes it."

Sirius walked across the room to where the tapestry Kreacher had been trying to protect hung the length of the wall. We followed him, interested to see what the fuss was all about.

The tapestry looked immensely old; it was faded and looked as though doxys had gnawed it in places. Nevertheless, the golden thread with which it was embroidered still glinted brightly enough to show them a sprawling family tree dating back to the Middle Ages. Large words at the very top of the tapestry read:

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black Toujours pur'

"You're not on here!" said Harry, after scanning the bottom of the tree closely.

"I used to be there," said Sirius, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home- Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath."

"You ran away from home?"

"When I was about sixteen," said Sirius. "I'd had enough."

"Where did you go?" asked Harry, staring at him.

'Your dad's place," said Sirius. "Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's in the school holidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place of my own, my Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold-he's been wiped off here too, that's probably why-anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr. and Mrs. Potters for Sunday lunch, though."

"But why did you...?"

"Leave?" Sirius smiled bitterly and ran his fingers through his long hair. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal ... my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them ... that's him."

Sirius jabbed a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at the name 'Regulus Black'. A date of death (some fifteen years previously) followed the date of birth.

"He was younger than me," said Sirius, "and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."

"But he died," said Harry.

'Yeah," said Sirius. "Stupid idiot ... he joined the Death Eaters."

"You're kidding!"

"Come on, Harry, haven't you seen enough of this house to tell what kind of wizards my family were?" said Sirius testily.

"Were-were your parents Death Eaters as well?"

"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. They weren't alone, either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colours, who thought he had the right idea about things... They got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."

"Was he killed by an Auror?" Harry asked.

"Oh, no," said Sirius. "No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely; I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."

"Lunch," said Mum as she came into the room holding her wand high in front of her, balancing a huge tray loaded with sandwiches and cake on its tip. She looked pissed. We walked over and each grabbed a sandwich and a slice of cake. Harry stayed back with Sirius, so Hermione set some aside for the two.

"Thanks Mum, these are great!" I said probably a little more enthusiastically than I usually would. I just wanted to see her mellow down.

"Thank you dear," she said quietly, pouring us glasses of juice. "Enjoy. I'm going to go back down and clean up a bit."

We watched her as she exited the room. George let out a long whistle.

"She must be awful miffed if she didn't fall for your charm, Ronniekins."

"Hey, I tried." I said, munching on my sandwich.

"Well I for one feel like she has a right to be angry," said Hermione. "Mundungus is doing the Order a horrible disservice by continuing any more illegal activity, not to mention, taking a huge risk by bringing illegal things here. What if something had some sort of trace on it?"

"She's got a point." said Ginny.

"Awh, Dung is alright." said Fred, waving the girls off. "He's good for business at least."

"What business do you have with him?" I asked suspiciously. I really didn't want my brothers doing anything that would get them in Azkaban trouble.

"Why don't you mind your nose? Although, might be hard to do with the size of that snoz" said Fred, maliciously.

"Fuck off." I growled. "And before you say it, I already know, Hermione. Language."

Hermione looked like she was disappointed that she didn't get to scold me.

"Well, I still think he shouldn't bring his illegal activity in here.",she mumbled.

"Maybe you should leave the thinking to Hogwarts." said George.

"Maybe you should back off and leave her alone!" I snapped.

Fred and George smirked. Fred raised his hands in a fake surrender. "Pardon us. Didn't know Ickle Ronniekins would get his wand bent out of shape over someone having a joke at his little bookworm."

I looked hard at them, trying to let them know I wanted them to shut the fuck up.

"Can we just drop it?" said Ginny, giving Fred and George the look Mum usually gives when she is about to go mental on them.

Fred and George chuckled, but didn't say anything else.

"Thanks." I mouthed to Ginny.

She stuck her tongue out at me and smiled.

Sirius and Harry finally came and joined us, and we finished the meal in silence.

Mum kept us all working very hard over the next few days. The drawing room took three days to decontaminate. Finally, the only undesirable things left in it were the tapestry of the Black family tree, which wouldn't come down for shit, and the rattling writing desk. Moody had not dropped by headquarters yet, so we didn't take any chances to see what was inside it.

We moved from the drawing room to a dining room on the ground floor where I did not stay long.

"WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK WAS THAT?! I said, pointing to a fucking spider as large as a saucer lurking in the dresser.

"Ron, it will be oka-"

I ran out the room and didn't come back for almost two hours.

I was growing more tired of fighting the fucking house and not being able to go outside. Kreacher wasn't helping. He kept appearing wherever we were, his muttering becoming more and more offensive as he attempted to remove anything he could from the rubbish sacks. Sirius went as far as to threaten him with clothes, but Kreacher fixed him with a watery stare and said, "Master must do as Master wishes," before turning away and muttering very loudly, "but Master will not turn Kreacher away, no, because Kreacher knows what they are up to, oh yes, he is plotting against the Dark Lord, yes, with these Mudblood and traitors and scum..."

At which Sirius, ignoring Hermione's protests, seized Kreacher by the back of his loincloth and threw him from the room.

The doorbell rang several times a day, which was the cue for Sirius's mother to start shrieking again, and for us to attempt to eavesdrop on the visitor before Mum made us do more work. Mundungus redeemed himself slightly in Mu's eyes by rescuing me from an ancient set of purple robes that had tried to strangle me when I had removed them from their wardrobe.

Another thing that bothered me that I knew I shouldn't have thought about was that Hermione didn't sneak into our room at night. I knew that it would be risky, especially with Harry sleeping there, but now I was starting to get annoyed, even though I knew it was wrong for me to feel that way. I couldn't help myself, however. I just felt like I wanted to be near her all the time. Before Harry had came, I had gotten used to her being the last thing I saw before sleeping and the first thing I saw when I woke up.

Mum turned to Harry during dinner on Wednesday evening and said quietly, "I've ironed your best clothes for tomorrow morning, Harry, and I want you to wash your hair tonight, too. A good first impression can work wonders."

Harry nodded. "How am I getting there?"

"Arthur's taking you to work with him," said Mum gently.

"You can wait in my office until it's time for the hearing," said,Dad, trying to look cheerful.

Harry looked over at Sirius.

"Professor Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea for Sirius to go with you, and I must say I-"

"-think he's quite right," said Sirius through clenched teeth.

Mum pursed her lips.

"When did Dumbledore tell you that?' Harry said, staring at Sirius.

'He came last night, when you were in bed."

The rest of dinner was eaten in an awkward silence. Afterwards, everyone went straight to bed.