( 𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔦𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗 ) — number twelve grimmauld place

They had followed the same identical steps as Dumbledore had when he brought Evangeline over to the London townhouse for the first time.

Barely a second after they had entered the eerie hallway, there were hurried footsteps, and Molly emerged from a door at the far end of the narrow area. She was beaming in welcome as she hurried forwards, almost knocking over a candelabra on a rickety table in the shape of a serpent.

''Oh, Harry, its lovely to see you!'' She whispered, pulling him into a bone-cracking hug. ''You're looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid . . . ''

Most of the wizards made noises of interests and excitement, filing towards the kitchen; Harry made to follow Evangeline and Remus, but Molly held him back.

''No, Harry, the meetings only for members of the Order. Ron and Hermione are upstairs, you can wait with them until the meetings over and then we'll have dinner. And keep your voice down in the hall.''

''Why?''

''I don't want to wake anything up.''

''What d'you—''

''I'll explain later, I've got to hurry, I'm supposed to be at the meeting—''

Evangeline popped her head around the kitchen door and into the hallway. The room was absolutely over-flowing with people, and it made her head hurt.

''I can show him to where he's sleeping, Molly,'' she offered kindly. ''You can all begin without me, I will be down in a couple minutes.''

''Oh, thank you, dear,'' she hummed, rushing back into the kitchen to tackle a seeping pot of potatoes.

She led him up the stairs quickly and quietly, just as Charlie had done for her a while back. This time, all she was hoping for was to avoid another run-in with the dreaded man in the mirror.

''Evangeline, why—''

''Ron and Hermione will explain everything, Harry, I have got to get back. ''There,'' — they had reached the second landing; it had the dirtiest carpet out of all of the levels, so packed with dust it puffed up debris with every step taken. ''You will be in the door on the right, between Remus and Sirius. Molly will call you when the meeting is over.''

Truth be told, once she actually joined the meeting, the pure-blood witch didn't take in a word anybody was saying. Her head was still pounding from the air-borne journey, and all she wanted to do was have her meal and lie down for the night.

Thankfully, the meeting was concluded rather swiftly within ten minutes. Snape had been the last to leave — he never stayed for dinner — and so she shot out of her seat to go and close the front door behind him.

''We are eating down in the kitchen,'' she whispered, meeting Harry, Ron, and Hermione at the bottom of the stairs. The brunette pointed her wand in the direction of the designated room, guiding the Potter boy. ''It is just through here, make sure you tiptoe—''

CRASH.

''Tonks!'' Molly cried, jumping out of the kitchen at the commotion.

''I'm sorry!'' Dora wailed, lying flat on the floor. ''It's that stupid umbrella stand, that's the second time I've tripped over—''

The rest of her words were drowned out by a horrible, ear-splitting, blood-curdling screech.

The moth-eaten curtains flew apart, revealing a woman who was screaming and screaming as though she was being tortured. Walburga Black — who now considered herself to be quite good friends with Evangeline — shrieked, straining against the confines of her life-size portrait. The top-knot on her head was woven with dark hair that both Black brothers had inherited, and her facial structure looked as if it had been carved out by a skilled craftsman. For all her faults, the matriarch was extremely good-looking.

Remus and Molly darted forward and tried to tug the curtains shut over the woman, but they would not close, for she brandished her clawed hands as though trying to tear into their faces.

''Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers—''

Dora apologised over and over again, at the same time dragging the huge, heavy troll's leg back off the floor. Molly hurried up and down the hall, Stunning all the other yelling portraits with her wand.

''Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut up!'' Sirius roared, charging out of a door and seizing the curtains, causing his mother's face to blanch.

''Yoooou!'' She howled. ''Blood-traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!''

''I said shut up!''

And with a stupendous amount of force, he and Remus managed to force the curtains closed again.

Panting slightly and sweeping his long dark hair out of his eyes, Sirius glanced at Evangeline. ''Control your BFF, please, Evangeline,'' he smirked, before turning to his godson. ''Hello, Harry. I see you've met my mother.''

''My what—''

''Your—''

''Dear old mum, yeah. We've been trying to get her down for a month but we think she put a permanent sticking charm on the back of the canvas.''

''Correction, we do not think she did — she did. Sirius has been begging me to find a way to counteract the charm, but as the name implies, it is permanent.''

''Let's get downstairs, quick, before she wakes up again.''

''But what's a portrait of your mother doing here?'' Harry asked, bewildered.

''Hasn't anyone told you? This was my parent's house, but I'm the last Black left, so it's mine now. I offered it do Dumbledore for headquarters — about the only useful thing I've been able to do.''

Evangeline trailed into the kitchen behind them, before re-taking her seat at the table next to Arthur.

''Harry!'' He exclaimed, hurrying forward to shake his hand vigorously. ''Good to see you.''

Bill, who was wearing his hair in a long ponytail, hastily rolled up a length of parchment left on the dining table — blueprints of a potential Death Eater location. ''Journey all right, Harry? Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, then?''

''He tried,'' Dora laughed, sending a candle toppling onto the floor. ''Oh no — sorry—''

''You must be more careful, Dora,'' the Rosier girl tutted, reversing the damage.

Molly snapped at the other members, having seen Harry eyeing the scrolls. ''This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings.''

''Evanesco!''

''Sit down, Harry,'' Sirius urged, pulling out a chair.

''If you want dinner before midnight, I'll need a hand,'' Molly called to the room at large. ''No, you stay where you are, Harry dear, you've had a long journey—''

''What can I do, Molly?'' Dora said enthusiastically, bounding forward. ''Evangeline and I—''

''Er — no, it's all right, Tonks, you two have a rest too, you've done enough today—''

''No, no, we can help,'' the pure-blood insisted, before speaking in a proud tone of voice. ''Ginny has taught me how to use a potato peeler, so I can do that!''

Soon a series of heavy knives were chopping meat and vegetables of their own accord, supervised by Arthur, while the three women stirred cauldrons, and the others took out plates, goblets, and food from the pantry.

''Fred— George— NO, JUST CARRY THEM!''

The twins had bewitched a large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of butterbeer, and a heavy wooden breadboard, complete with a knife, to hurtle through the air and towards where Harry and Sirius sat. The stew skidded the length of the dining table and came to a halt just before the end, leaving a long black burn on the wooden surface, the butterbeer fell with a crash, spilling everywhere, and the bread knife slipped off the board and landed, point down and quivering ominously, exactly where Sirius' right hand had been seconds before.

''FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE! 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!''

''We were just trying to save a bit of time,'' Fred defended, hurrying forward and wrenching the knife out of the table. ''Sorry Sirius, mate — didn't mean to—''

Harry and Sirius were both laughing. Mundungus (who, truth be told, Evangeline did her best to ignore every time he was around) had toppled backwards off his chair and was swearing as he got to his feet. Crookshanks gave an angry hiss and shot off under the dresser.

''Boys,'' Arthur started, salvaging the stew. ''Your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now that you've come of age—''

''None of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!'' She raged. ''Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't charm everything he met! Percy—''

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

''Let's eat,'' Bill suggested quickly.

''That is a fine idea.''

''Everything looks wonderful, Molly.''

For a few minutes there was silence but for the chink of plates and cutlery and the scraping of chairs as everyone settled down.

''The curtains in the living room are full of doxies,'' she spoke, turning to the Black man all of a sudden. ''I thought we might try and tackle them tomorrow.''

''It is a drawing room, not a living room,'' the witch informed, soon after realising how this probably wasn't the best moment to correct the raging matriarch. ''Actually, forget I said anything — living room is fine.''

Sirius struggled to keep his snort of laughter in. ''I look forward to spending another day cleaning.''

Dora was entertaining Hermione and Ginny by transforming her nose between mouthfuls. Her nose swelled to a beak-like protuberance like Snape's, shrank to something resembling a button mushroom, and then sprouted a great deal of hair from each nostril — this was a regular meal-time entertainment.

On the other side, Bill, Arthur, and Remus were having an intense discussion about goblins, and whether or not they thought Voldemort had returned. Fred, George, Ron,  and Mundungus — and odd but not surprising quartet — were rolling around in their seats, tears of laughter streaming down their faces. Evangeline didn't join any of the conversations, preferring to pick apart the honey-glazed carrots in front of her. Remus had placed them closest to her plate, out of old habit; he knew they were her favourite.

''I don't think we need to hear any more about your business dealings, Mundungus,'' Molly interrupted sharply.

''Beg pardon, Molly,'' he chuckled, wiping his eyes and winking at the witch. ''But, you know, Will nicked 'em off Warty Harris in the first place so I wasn't really doing nothing wrong—''

''I don't know where you learned about right or wrong, Mundungus, but you seem to have missed a few crucial lessons.''

She threw a very nasty look at Sirius before getting to her feet and going to fetch a large rhubarb crumble and treacle tart (Evangeline's other favourite food) for dessert.

''Molly does not like him very much,'' she told the Potter boy, having had enough of the muteness on her part. ''I cannot say I blame her. He has a staring problem, and is extremely light fingered — I still wonder if it was him who took my hair pin, or Kreacher.''

''How come he's in the Order?''

''He's useful,'' Sirius muttered. ''Knows all the crooks — well, he would, seeing as he's one himself. But he's also very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out of a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around, he hears things we don't.''

After that, there was a lull in the general chatter. Arthur was leaning back in his chair, looking replete and relaxed, Dora was yawning widely, Ginny was rolling butterbeer corks for Crookshanks to chase, and Evangeline was forcefully keeping her head upright by resting it on the palm of her hand, wincing every time her hair snagged on a bracelet or ring.

''Nearly time for bed, I think,'' Molly announced.

''Not just yet, Molly,'' Sirius decided, pushing his empty plate away and turning to Harry. ''You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort.''

The statement was like a glass of cold water thrown over the Rosier girl. She was now alert — tense, even — much like the rest of the members in the room. Remus, for example, lowered his goblet and looked extremely wary.

''I did!'' Harry huffed indignantly. ''I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so—''

''And they're quite right,'' Molly agreed. ''You're too young.''

''Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions? Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happening—''

''Hang on!'' George cut in.

''How come Harry gets his questions answered?'' Fred added angrily.

''We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!''

''You're too young, you're not in the order,'' Fred mocked in a high-pitched voice uncannily like his mother's. ''Harry's not even of age!''

''It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing,'' Sirius stated calmly. ''That's your parent's decision. Harry, on the other hand—''

''It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry! You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?''

''Which bit?'' Sirius asked politely, but with an air as though readying himself for a fight.

''The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know, I assume,'' Evangeline answered rather helpfully.

Everyone's heads turned from Molly to Sirius as though watching a tennis rally. Even Ginny was kneeling amid a pile of abandoned butterbeer corks, watching the scene with her mouth slightly open. Evangeline's eyes trailed to Remus, and his eyes were fixated on his best friend.

''I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know. But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back, he has more right than most to—''

''He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix! He's only fifteen and—''

''And he's dealt with as much as most in the Order, and more than some! If you really want to bring up age, look around! Evangeline's only nineteen, for God's sake, but the oncoming war affects her too! Does that mean she shouldn't fight?''

All eyes turned to the pure-blood witch. She heaved a sigh, choosing her next words carefully. ''We all know what Harry has done, Sirius, and for that we are all proud of him. However, four years is a big difference—''

''He's not a child!''

''He's not an adult either!'' The colour in Molly's cheeks rose. ''He's not James, Sirius!''

''I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly,'' he said coldly.

''I'm not sure you are! Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!''

''Now, Molly, that is not fair—'' she tried.

''What's wrong with that?'' Harry tested.

''What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him! You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!''

''Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?''

''Meaning you've been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay home and—''

''We'll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!''

''Arthur!'' She rounded onto her husband. ''Arthur, back me up!''

He did not speak at once. He took off his glasses and cleaned them slowly on his robes, not looking at his wife. ''Dumbledore knows the position has changed, Molly. He accepts that Harry will have to be filled in to a certain extent now that he is staying at headquarters—''

''Yes, but there's a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!''

''Personally,'' Remus began quietly, ''I think it is better that Harry gets the facts — not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture — from us, rather than a garbled version from . . . others.''

''Personally,'' Evangeline repeated, ''I think we all want what is best for Harry. I know that I, for one, want to do nothing but protect him. Yet, refusing to give him any information at all will very likely do more harm than good. He is in a difficult position, unlike the other children, and as such should be informed accordingly.''

''Well,'' Molly sighed, looking around the table for support that didn't come. ''Well . . . I can see I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has got Harry's best interests at heart—''

''He's not your son,'' Sirius pointed out quietly.

''He's as good as! Who else has he got?''

''He's got me!''

''Yes,'' she said, her lip curling. ''The thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?''

Sirius started to rise from his chair.

''Molly, you're not the only one at this table who cares about Harry,'' Remus pointed out sharply. ''Sirius, sit down.''

Molly's lower lip was trembling as Sirius slouched back into his seat, his face a washed-out white at the low blow.

''Sirius did not choose to get arrested, Molly,'' Evangeline pointed out. ''You cannot use that against him. He was not given a trial, either, however that is a matter for the another day.''

''I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this,'' Remus declared. ''He's old enough to decide for himself.''

''Very well,'' her voice cracked. ''Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, I want you all out of this kitchen — now.''

There was an instant uproar.

''We're of age!''

''If Harry's allowed, why can't I?''

''Mum, I want to.''

''NO! I absolutely forbid—''

''Molly, you can't stop Fred and George,'' Arthur pointed out wearily. ''They are of age—''

''They're still at school—''

''But they're legally adults now.''

''I— oh, all right then, Fred and George can stay, but Ron—''

''Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!'' Ron tried hotly, before adding uncertainly in his best friend's direction. ''Won't— won't you?''

''Course I will.''

''Fine! Fine! Ginny, BED!''

Ginny didn't go quietly. They could hear her raging and storming all the way up the stairs at her mother, and Walburga's ear-splitting shrieks were only added to the din. Evangeline hurried off to the portrait to go and restore calm. After she returned, Remus closed the kitchen door behind her, and took the now-empty space beside the brunette.

''I need a drink,'' she sighed, glancing forlornly at the closed cupboards. ''Please tell me you have something.''

''My father always did keep a flask of Firewhisky somewhere in there,'' he gestured vaguely to the populated pantry. ''Feel free to take a look.''

''Great idea,'' Tonks mused as her friend went off in search of the amber liquid ( Evangeline associated it as the same exact shade Remus' eyes were, but that detail was currently unnecessary). ''Us adults should go clubbing soon, let off some steam.''

''I cannot say I have ever been to a Muggle establishment,'' she began, placing her door on the handle to the walk-in closet. ''But I am not opposed to spending a night away from this house of horrors.''

It was as if on cue that he appeared before her. A ghostly mist floating above a half-opened egg box, blinding her not with its opacity, but the sinister shiver it sent up her spine and into her startled core. 

Evangeline jumped back at the phantom, crushing her spleen against the serpent-shaped door handle; its fang dug into the small of her back, leaving a tell-tale mark.

Remus jumped out of his seat, springing to action unlike the others, who stayed seated with startled stares. He rushed forward, grimacing at the cruel cut on her sun-kissed flesh. He wanted nothing more to reach out, touch it, and soothe her pain; it wasn't his place anymore.

He settled on a simple question. ''What's wrong?''

''I— I thought I saw something,'' she started, although now, she was unsure as to what exactly she had seen. Evangeline dismissed the aching in her gut as dysphoria from her stutter — she never stuttered; it wasn't lady-like and promoted impropriety. ''Never mind . . . ''

''Okay, Harry . . . what do you want to know?''