The past few days had seemed like everyone in the Order was on edge. The adults barely had time at all to joke around like the first few weeks of being cooped up in the house. More unfamiliar looking people were now walking in and out of headquarters and meetings were now being held more frequently in the dining room, which meant that they had to keep up with trying to get their hands on information themselves. Unfortunately, Mrs. Weasley had caught the twins and Ron, eavesdropping from the banister that one evening, and had exploded angrily at them.

Imperturbable Charms were now casted around the dining room, making the Extendable Ears practically useless when they did. But sometimes, out of great immediacy, they would forget. And those were the times they could ever get anything useful.

What they knew so far was that Julien was indeed going to be inducted in to operations, and that Charlie was to return to Romania in a couple of days to check up on correspondents. They also learned a tad bit about Fudge's paranoia regarding Dumbledore, and that the headmaster is now slowly getting all his prestige titles stripped away.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to have made it a more frequent habit to fly off the handle because of the twins. Florence couldn't really blame her, as they seemed to be using their Apparation skills almost everywhere. Up and down the house, from one room to another. One night in particular, the boys had received a proper scolding due to the fact that they had accidentally set off a stash of what appeared to be Sirius' confiscated dungbombs in one of the kitchen cupboards, because they thought it would be more convenient to move it with their wands than to actually carry them. The kitchen reeked of shit for days on end, and Molly had to go use Tonks' kitchen to make meals, and brought them over after she was finished.

Florence's seventeenth birthday also came up, however that same day they were flooded with news about Harry Potter being suspended due to using magic infront of a muggle, who was his cousin, Dudley, the two of them allegedly attacked by a Dementor. Jane had promised Florence that she would make up for it, once she finished off with trying to persuade the Ministry to reconsider the punishments of the said improper use of magic. Sirius was livid, to say the least, going off about how his use of magic was necessary because his life was under threat. Everyone who couldn't quite do anything just paced about the house, worried sick about Harry, and completely forgetting about Florence's birthday.

Except maybe Fred and George, who had given her a little firework show in her room, after getting the product right this time.

Not that she blamed anyone for being busy, she completely understood. But at the same time, she couldn't help but feel down about it.

"Aw, cheer up, love." Fred consoled, noticing the rather down look on her features, "I'm sure they didn't mean to get so caught up in stuff."

"Yeah," George agreed, "They're just concerned for Harry, is all."

"I know. And I'm fine with it, seriously. I understand. Besides, I've had sixteen tremendously amazing birthday parties, I'm sure it wouldn't hurt if I had one year without a celebration at all."

"That's my girl." Fred offered her a small smile, before his eyes lit up in realization, "Oh, but your mum brought these over when she arrived from your house this morning." he took out two carefully wrapped parcels from under her bed, "We found them on the counter right before everyone started panicking. It had your name on it, so, we brought them up."

"I know who these are from," she smiled, recognizing the handwriting on the cards attached to it. "Xander's," she pointed at the one wrapped in blue, "And Nicolai's," she pointed to the one wrapped in dark purple.

"Atleast they remembered," Fred pointed out.

"They should remember. Otherwise, I'd have to disown them when we get back to Hogwarts," Florence joked, peeling the wrapping paper from Xander's box and taking a look inside, before shutting the box back up again, putting it aside, "I'll, er, open these later, I guess."

"What's in it?" they asked, genuinely curious.

"Nothing of great importance, I—"

There was a soft knock on the door, the last person she ever thought that would pay a visit to her room was standing by the threshold. Sloan offered her a small smile, "Boys, do you mind if I have a word with Florence for awhile?"

The twins shared a brief look, before bidding Florence goodbye and walking out of the room. In his hand was a small box and an envelope, Sloan lingering hesitantly, "May I, take a seat?" he asked, gesturing to the chair by the study desk. She nodded, eyes focused intently on him as he moved to settle in to the chair.

"So, you're mum mentioned it was your birthday. Happy Birthday, Florence."

"Thanks." she replied, looking everywhere but at Sloan, who looked just as lost as she was.

"You're of age now...It's a pretty special age. Which is why I got you something."

"Oh, no, you didn't have to," Florence said quickly, "I mean, you barely know me. Just because you're my uncle, you're not obligated to any presents."

"Well," said Sloan, shrugging, "It isn't really from me, per say. Let's just say that it's from your father." he said, setting the envelope down on the desk and carefully unwrapping the tiny box. Florence watched him carefully, a velvet cladded box under all the wrapping paper. He popped it open, revealing an octagonal shiny silver pendant, with an intricate silhouette of a bird sitting right in the middle, surrounded by eleven golden stars. He held it out for Florence to take.

"This was my father's?" she whispered, "What is it?"

"For one," Sloan explained, "It really isn't your father's. It's been in the family for so long. Usually, it was only the firstborn son that got to inherit family heirlooms. But an ancient Price ancestor must have found the injustice in that, and decided that second borns should inherit heirlooms too."

"This," he pointed at the shiny pendant, "is the Price family coat of arms."

"Wow," Florence chuckled, brows raised in surprise, "We had a coat of arms? I thought that was only for cool pureblood families."

"What? We're definitely a pureblood family. We definitely are cool. So yes, we have a coat of arms. My father told us that everything you see on it has a meaning. The octagon represents the eight wizards whose blood was forged to make the silver for this pendant—"

"Are you serious?" Florence said horrifically, "That's a terrible coat of arms."

"I'm kidding. I don't even know if you can turn blood in to silver." he half laughed, "Funny thing is that's exactly what my father told us about the coat of arms symbols...Gabriel reacted the same way."

The mention of his brother made his eyes twinkle in familiarity and sadness, shaking it away before he got consumed with the emotions, "Actually, it doesn't really symbolize anything. I guess they just liked the shape."

"What about the bird? And the stars?"

"Well now, those have meanings. The bird is a dove, which symbolizes peace, calmness, and inner initiation. That what our family believes in, la calma è la virtù dei forti. It's Italian, translated in english it means, the calm is the virtue of the strong. While the stars, well, there's eleven of them because there are also eleven stars that make up the Columba constellation, which is latin for Dove."

"So... it's basically just two doves?"

"Yeah. Pretty cool, huh?"

"You bet."

They shared a laugh, Florence carefully putting on the necklace. The pendant felt cool against her skin, peering down at it admiringly, "It's beautiful."

"I gave my heirloom to Julien when he turned of age. It was a compass, which didn't really serve useful for me in any way back in the day. Well your father, I guess, he'd want you to have that as well. I mean you're technically his firstborn, but you are the second born of the third generation of Prices, so it's fitting."

"Thank you, Sloan." Florence said, "Really. This is the best birthday gift I could ever receive, I...I've never owned anything of his that I could carry around."

"He would have been so proud of the lady you've become," he whispered, "Your mum mentioned that you punched someone in the face? He'd be proud of that too. Although that was more of your McKinnon trait."

She chuckled, before staring at Sloan intently, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Go right ahead."

"What was my mum blaming you for, you know, when you first arrived? Why did she say it was your fault that my dad died?"

"Well your dad and I were there when we locked Sirius up in Azkaban. Jane told me to stay with Gabriel. She knew how dangerous it was, and she made me swear that he'd be alright."

"After the mission, I asked Gabriel if we could stop by my house for a bit before I took him home to his. Julien's mum, Kora—she uh, she took all of Julien's possessions that he had left with me on occasions that I'd have him over. She was going to take off with him, I-I didn't know where she was going to take him. He was four, and Kora and I had been long separated, she already had a family with another man. That French bastard who lived in London. We tried to co-parent, it wasn't working. She always thought I was neglectful and couldn't take care of Julien when he was with me. When she and I broke up, our relationship was already strained, but I didn't expect her to try and take my son away from me."

"So you followed after Kora," Florence guessed, "My dad told you he would be fine alone, so you went after them."

Sloan nodded, "I found them at the International Floo channel. I wasn't able to stop Kora, but atleast she told me where she was planning to go before she took off. But, if I had stayed with him that night, your dad could've lived, you know?"

"And you would have lost your son forever," Florence replied, "I don't think my dad would've wanted that."

"He wouldn't have liked it."

"Exactly. You found Julien... I don't think you did him wrong."

Sloan sighed, "He and I. We grew up with just one parent too, you know. My mother—your grandmother—she died, giving birth to Gabriel. I barely remembered my mother, I was atleast a year old then. I resented Gabriel for a short amount of time, thinking that maybe my mum could have lived if he wasn't born. But then growing up I'd realized that Gabriel never got parties on his birthday, since my father would be to busy mourning our mother's death. And he started blaming himself for it too, that was when I made it my life's mission to protect my little brother from the harsh world. But I couldn't protect him when he needed me the most."

Florence got up from her bed, striding over to where Sloan sat, and gave him a tight hug, his hands circling around his niece moments later, as if he had felt Gabriel's presence in her.

"I owe your father one, Florence. I owe him your safety and your happiness."

-------

Harry had arrived at the Black family house before supper, breaking off the Order meeting that was happening in the dining room by a loud crash that caused Mrs. Black's portrait to start screaming again. Eventually she was hushed by a ranging Sirius, then they were all called down to help set up supper. As usual, Florence was at the kitchen, helping Molly whip up a cauldron of delicious stew. But Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to be in a good mood, it was if there was going to be smoke coming out from her ears any minute. She moved as swiftly and as silently, not wanting to tick her off any more than she appeared to be.

"Florence," Molly smiled the sweetest smile she could muster, even if she was obviously on edge, "Would you be a dear and help carry the food to the kitchen?"

She eyed the heavy looking Cauldron nervously, "Uh, yeah, I guess I can—"

"No need, love," Fred had walked in to the kitchen, sparing his mother a single glance as she was watching the twins intently, "George and I can take this."

"No, I can do it, it's fine."

"Nonsense, dear, let them carry it for you," Molly insisted, eyeing her sons approvingly, "It's rare that they'd want to help out with anything.

"Okay... I guess so." she replied, Molly giving her one last reassuring smile before checking up on the others at the dinner table. Florence, however, slightly panicked as the twins whipped out their wands, knowing full well how they were going to bring the food over.

"Fred, George," she began, as the cauldron of stew and the flagon of butterbeer started to levitate in the air, "You know, I could really just carry it..." she offered, beginning to pick up the breadboard, where a load of fresh bread complete with a knife sat atop. But Fred, too, had made it levitate out of her hands,
"Don't worry, love, we have it. Just watch."

Wrong. Terribly wrong.

"Fred—George—NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, just as Florence started to lunge forward in a feeble attempt to help stop the disaster from happening.

Their whole meal was sent hurtling through the air towards the dinner table, where Harry, Sirius, and Mundungus Fletcher sat. The stew skidded the length of the table and came to a halt just before the end, leaving a long black burn on the wooden surface, the flagon of butterbeer fell with a crash, spilling its contents everywhere, and the bread knife slipped off the board and landed right where Sirius' had was, had he not moved it seconds before the impact.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" screamed Mrs. Weasley. "THERE WAS NO NEED — I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS — JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW YOU DON'T HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"

Molly was beet red, Florence rushed over to push the cauldron away from the edge of the table in fear of it toppling over, while Harry and Sirius laughed at the twins' frantic behavior.

"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" said Fred, hurrying for- ward and wrenching the bread knife out of the table. "Sorry Sirius, mate — didn't mean to —"

"Boys," Mr. Weasley chimed in, just entering the dining room, "your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now you've come of age—"

"— none of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!" Mrs. Weasley raged at the twins, slamming a fresh flagon of butterbeer onto the table and spilling almost as much again. "Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't Charm everything he met! Percy —"

She stopped dead, catching her breath with a frightened look at her husband, whose expression was suddenly wooden.

"Let's eat," said Bill quickly.

"It looks wonderful, Molly," said Lupin, ladling stew onto a plate for her and handing it across the table.

Florence breathed out raggedly, eyeing the others who were now sliding into their seats. She could tell, that this was going to be a long night.

"Happy Birthday, Florence." she muttered to herself.

////
a.n: Happy 24k ❤ I'll have you know that I've already finished writing the whole book, however, I will still be publishing the chapters one by one, as I need that time to write out my George fic. Love you all ❤

-Denise