The term had just ended and Cynthia was hurrying through the dorm, collecting the last of her things while Eleanor sat sleepily on the end of her bed, not needing to hurry since she was catching the Hogwarts Express home later in the morning.

"I promise when I get there I'll write to you," she says finally satisfied she has everything packed.

"Can't you just tell me what's going on? You're catching the knight bus with Hermione, going somewhere I'm not allowed to even know about."

"I can't tell you. I know it sucks and I know we tell each other everything but this is just one thing I actually can not say."

With a quick goodbye Cynthia rushes out of the dorm, her bags clattering along behind her. Hermione and Reggie are waiting for her in the Entrance Hall with Professor McGonagall who is escorting them down to the bus.

"I feel so bad for just ditching her," Cynthia says, staring back at the way down to where her friend was probably beginning to get her own things together.

"We've got no choice," Reg says, keeping his voice down so McGonagall doesn't overhear them.

"Still doesn't make me feel any better."

They spend much of the trip in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts as the knight bus hurdles along the different roads and sometimes paths, picking up and dropping off a variety of witches and wizards.

When they finally arrive the bus screeches to a sudden stop and drops them off several streets away from their actual destination, stepping down they're greeted by a stern looking witch in a brilliant blue suit with her dark black hair pulled up in a severe bun, not a stray whisp in sight.

Automatically Cyn begins to tug on her own hair, a nervous habit she had developed years ago when she knew she was about to get in trouble.

"Hi mum."

"Cynthia. Reginald. And I'm guessing you must be the Hermione who we're also expecting?" replies the woman, surveying the bushy haired girl in front of her who nods silently.

"Well come on we haven't got all day."

Turning on her heel the three of them jump to action, grabbing hold of their luggage and doing their best to keep up with the brisk pace being set.

They enter Grimmauld Place where Cynthia and Reggie are handed a slip of paper identifying a building as number 12 Grimmauld Place, the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

"This place?" Cynthia asks, certain that the headquarters for the group that her mother was constantly working for would be somewhere more spectacular than some random muggle street in London.

"Yes this place now get inside," she snaps.

Upon walking in they are bombarded by a screaming woman, shrieking about blood traitors and mudbloods and all sorts of horrible things.

Someone runs into the hallway and pulls curtains over the portrait from which the sound is coming from and Cynthia gets a good look at her surroundings.

She could tell from the crest that this was the house of the Black family and everything around them looked ancient with a layer of dust and grime.

Beside her Hermione has already headed upstairs, clearly already familiar with the place and Cynthia and Reggie are being ushered down into the kitchen.

"Sit."

Knowing better than to waste their mother's time the two of them take the first seats in front of them, neither one daring to make a noise.

"In light of some growing concerns the members of the order and myself have agreed that you should be more involved in the Order. Well, Reginald for now, Cynthia you will simply do as you're told and stay out of everyone's way. Don't interrupt me. Cynthia you will be on your best behaviour, you're here as a privilege and because I need to know you're safe."

She turns now to look only at Reggie, "Reginald, you're of age. You're graduating after this year and I need you to be prepared, while you're here over the holidays you will sit in on meetings and listen and learn. When you go back to school you will keep your head down and focus on your N.E.W.T.s and when you graduate you can have a more active role if you want, understood?"

"Yes Ma'am," he says with a smile.

Damn him. Thinks Cynthia. He's wanted this all year since he heard there was such a thing as the Order and now I'll never hear the end of it.

"I know I don't need to tell you both that this doesn't get back to that friend of yours Eleanor, I don't care how good of a person you say she is. She is not to find out about the Order from either of you."

This last bit she emphasises by glaring at Cynthia, knowing which of her children she would have the most trouble with.

"Oh Katherine there you are, Moody's looking for you," calls out a friendly looking woman with flaming red hair.

"I'll talk more with you later," their mother says, hurrying out the door.

"You two must be hungry but dinner will be ready soon, why don't you go upstairs and I'll give you a call when it's ready."

They do as the woman says, going out to the hallway again where they pass a man who looks strikingly familiar humming Christmas carols under his breath as he hangs more decorations.

Shaking off the feeling, Cynthia leaves Reggie to his own devices and, following the sound of laughter, finds Fred and George upstairs in a lounge room.

"Are you guys okay?" She asks, leaning up against the doorway.

"Oh wow you're here," George says, snapping to attention and crossing the room in a few strides to sweep her up in a giant hug.

"They said dad'll be fine. If it hadn't been for Harry though he probably would've died."

"He didn't though which is great, I don't think mum could handle that with Percy being the ass that we always knew he was," Fred chimes in from his spot on one of the lounges.

"How are you even here?" George asks, releasing Cyn from his hug and pulling her over to sit down.

"Mum's part of the Order, she said she wanted to keep me and Reggie safe. And she wants him sitting in on meetings -"

"What?" George interrupts.

"No way, he gets to sit in and not us? We're older than him!" Fred finishes.

"You don't sit in on them?"

"Mum won't let us," Fred says grouchily.

"Oh. By the way, who's the guy downstairs decorating the house? I thought he looked familiar."

"Don't freak out but it's Sirius Black. It's a long story but all you need to know is he's completely innocent and really not that bad of a guy once you know him."

"Right. And I take it the woman downstairs is your mother?"

"Yeah, don't worry I'll introduce you to her properly at dinner. She's going to love you."

The holidays were passing by magnificently, they finished decorating the house and, as George had predicted his mother was incredibly happy to meet Cynthia, saying how dating her might be one of the most sensible things he's done.

By the time they go to bed on Christmas Eve the house was no longer the solemn mess it had been when she arrived, every surface gleaming and hung with decorations. On Christmas morning Cynthia woke up to a pile of presents at the foot of her bed.

From her mother and father she got tickets to go see her favourite Quidditch team in the Summer holidays and Reggie had given her a broom care kit knowing her old one was running low, there was also a present from Mr and Mrs Weasley and when she opened it a fluffy yellow jumper dropped out with a big black C embroidered on the front. Pulling it on over her clothes she turned to the last present from George which was a gorgeous golden locket with her name engraved on the front.

"How on earth did you afford it?" She asks him later on their way to St Mungo's hand in hand.

"Don't worry, nothing bad I promise, you know better than anyone that Fred and I have a purely legitimate way of earning money."

"Mm yes but you're saving that money not spending it all on me."

Blushing, she follows the rest of the group into the hidden entrance of St Mungo's and they spend the day visiting Mr Weasley in his ward who is also very happy to meet her. Halfway through their visit Cynthia followed Harry, Hermione and Ron around St Mungo's, leaving the rest of the Weasley's to have some private time together, currently arguing over the fact that Mr Weasley had allowed a young healer to experiment with muggle stitches on his wounds.

While they were looking around they ran into none other than Gilderoy Lockhart, who had apparently lost his memory and been spending his time here with the mind of a child. Shortly after they run into Neville and his grandmother there to visit his parents, Cynthia wanting to give him privacy and turning back to go find Fred and George.

"I think you made mum's day wearing that when we went out," George said later that evening when they were curled up together by the fireplace.

"I love it, my mum's not really into anything crafty so this is the first handmade gift I've ever had. Plus it is so comfy."

George leans in a little closer, "You are so cute you know that?" His eyes dart down to look at her lips for a second before she closes the gap, kissing him slowly and lightly. Pulling her closer to him, he deepens the kiss, laying her back on the lounge and losing themselves in one another. At some point they shed their jumpers and Cyn becomes highly aware of George's hand sitting under her shirt, the side of her waist burning and tingling under his touch.

"Just what on earth do you think you are doing George Weasley." A shrill voice cries. The two of them snap apart instantly, falling off the couch in the process and struggling to make themselves presentable as Molly Weasley scurries over shooing them both off to their own separate rooms, rambling all the way about teenagers and their hormones.

Inside her room Cynthia climbs into bed, a smile plastered on her face and her cheeks still flushed and her lips beginning to sting from the ferocity of the kiss. Despite all the uncertainty of the adults around them, this was by far the best Christmas yet.