life goes on pt. 1

July 26th, 1995

FRED WAS FRIGHTENINGLY quiet, the first two weeks of Summer vacation.

He couldn't sleep or eat well, and there were very little things that could lift his mood up.

Mrs. Weasley tried her best to console her children by making them as busy as they could be. She forced them to clean.

Perks of being left abandoned for years, Sirius' house was very... damp, dirty, musty, and borderline disgusting. The Blacks' incredibly unpleasant house elf, Kreacher, wasn't exactly helping either. He just showered them with incessant insults, especially since Hermione moved in mid July.

One night, though, the master of the house called him downstairs and offered him a cup of chamomile tea. Fred still needed some time to adjust himself, seeing Sirius Black swaggering and strutting around like a normal guy, unlike his Azkaban mugshot that the former was more familiar with.

Sirius got straight to the point and asked, "You like her, don't you?"

Fred raised his eyebrows, blinking in surprise.

Sirius grinned, "I may or may not have visited the so-called Allen Residence as Snuffles and overheard a private conversation between Daisy and Lucy."

Fred looked down. He went quiet for a few seconds before saying, "Then you must've known why none of us wanted to leave her alone in Devon."

"Yes. Your Father told us. He considered bringing her along," Sirius nodded, "Being a notorious prankster like you, though, I'd like to assume the best until proven otherwise."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, as students, I always thought that I could get away with anything, at least until my eyes saw a professor. The only thing Moony did by worrying about being caught and expelled, saying we should stop, bla bla bla, was killing the mood. Don't you agree?"

Fred chuckled, "Yeah. Totally."

"So let's do that. Let's keep on hoping that the flower girl is well." Sirius offered his fist and they did a fist-bump. "Hahah! Minerva's right! You are my successor."

"Please!" Fred beamed, "You. Are. Legendary. The Marauders' Map— It is way beyond brilliant! How did you come up with that, anyway?"

They spent the night talking and reminiscing about their best pranks and their narrowest escape from peril at Hogwarts. And the next day, Fred invited George to test their newly legal Apparition skill by starting a challenge: One day of NO WALKING. AT ALL.

A slight mishap happened, though. He apparated right into the toilet when someone else was occupying it.

Thankfully it was Sirius, so after screaming, he just laughed along.

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July 30th, 1995

WITH A SMILE, Daisy closed her Magic albums and sighed.

Oh, she missed them so much... But she knew she had to move on. She had to live her own life.

People came and go, like her mother and the Weasleys, but the world kept on turning. The clock kept ticking. Days rolled by, DeVeres dropped by, and she had to keep up. She just had to.

So she sealed the albums close, put them in the very back of her drawer, buried them under every knitted sweater Mrs. Weasley had made for her over the years, then under every book Hermione had sent, locked the drawer, put the key inside an unused jewelry box, locked the box, put it at the very hidden corner of her walk-in closet, and hid it behind three layers of dresses her Father had bought for her overseas.

"Young Miss?"

Lucy poked her head in. "Young Mr. DeVere is downstairs, wondering if you'd like a trip to Bristol?"

"Oh, is Father—"

"Master Allen is thrilled. Of course he's letting you go," Lucy grinned, leaning against the closet's door, "I have to say, this fake date thing, brilliant. Absolute genius."

"I know!" Daisy said, "Oh, how about I request the presence of a companion, and you can come with us?"

"Really?!" Lucy squealed, "Are you sure? I can come?"

"Assuming you want to."

"Of course I want to!"

Daisy locked her arms with Lucy's and the two of them made their way out of the room. The latter turned quiet as she observed her employer's bright smile, slightly hiding the paleness and haunting eyebags and the fact that the smile was probably forced.

She remembered how Young Miss Daisy disappeared one noon, only to return completely soaked by rain and unable to speak a single word without bursting into tears. Not even her Father's abuse could send her to that level of misery.

She told her the next day, that the Weasleys were moving away. Indefinitely.

Daisy locked herself in her bedroom for three days. After three days, she came downstairs to the kitchen, saying she was hungry with a huge smile that fooled everybody but Lucy, and went to Exeter with Mr. Roberts to pick her guests up.

Mr. and Mrs. DeVere stayed for a week then left their son to stay with their relative, the Louvres. Mr. Allen had his next flight scheduled after Summer vacation was over.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Lucy blinked, "Like what?"

"Like I'm... sick."

She laughed, "I'm not!"

Lucy wanted to ask if the Weasleys were coming back again, and if Daisy had heard any news from them, and about her unacknowledged infatuation with Fred, and if she was okay, but she was aware of how hard the poor girl tried to cope.

She promised herself to never say the word 'Weasley' again, unless Daisy started it. And so far, she hadn't.

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August 6th, 1995

THE ORDER HAD been busy keeping their eyes and ears open for any information on You-Know-Who's movement, and their busy days turned even busier with the news of Dementor attacking Harry.

Finally, after a lengthy argument between the adults, a task force was assembled to bring Harry into the headquarter along as well.

"The Advance Guard." Nymphadora Tonks whispered an idea for the task force's name pretentiously.

"No, don't," Mad-Eye Moody grunted, "We're not a band."

When the gauche Auror left the room, though, Tonks winked at the bystanders (the Weasley kids) and repeated, "Advance Guard."

"Great idea," George mouthed as Fred gave her a thumb-up.

The bunch of highly trained wizards and witches —Remus Lupin, Moody, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, and Hestia Jones— left in the evening, carrying broomsticks, and returned with Harry in tow a few hours later.

Hermione immediately threw herself onto him in a hug when he entered Ron's room. "HARRY! Ron, he's here, Harry's here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how are you? Are you alright? I know our letters were useless— but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got to tell us— the dementors! When we heard— and that Ministry hearing— it's just outrageous, I've looked it all up, they can't expel you, they just can't, there's provision in the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations—"

"Let him breathe, Hermione," said Ron, grinning, closing the door behind Harry. He seemed to have grown several more inches during their month apart.

It didn't take long for Harry to spit out all of the bitter and resentful thoughts he had kept suppressed for being left completely alone and in the dark this past month.

With two loud cracks, Fred and George materialized out of thin air in the middle of the room.

"Hello, Harry," George said, beaming, "We thought we heard your dulcet tones."

"You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, Harry, let it all out," said Fred, also beaming. "There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you."

"Anyway, you're interfering with reception," George added, lifting up a string with ears connected on its ends, "Extendable Ears. Our newest invention."

"We're trying to hear what's going on downstairs."

"Oh, hello, Harry!" Right about then, the door opened, and Ginny walked in. "I thought I heard your voice. It's no go with the Extendable Ears. Mum put an Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door."

"How did you know?" said George, looking crestfallen.

"Tonks told me how to find out," said Ginny, "I've been flicking Dungbombs at the door and they just soar away from it, which means it's been Imperturbed."

"Shame," Fred sighed deeply, "I really fancied finding out what they've been up to. Bill won't tell us anything."

"Is Bill here?" Harry asked. He was not sure if his anger had been abated yet, but his thirst for information overcame his urge to keep on shouting. "I thought he was working in Egypt."

"He applied for a desk job so he could come home and work for the Order," Fred said, smirking, "He says he misses the tombs, but, there are compensations..."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember old Fleur Delacour?" said George. "She's got a job at Gringotts to eemprove 'er Eeenglish—"

"—and Bill's been giving her a lot of private lessons," sniggered Fred.

"Charlie's in the Order too," said George, "but he's still in Romania, Dumbledore wants as many foreign wizards brought in as possible, so Charlie's trying to make contacts on his days off."

"Couldn't Percy do that?" Harry asked.

At these words all the Weasleys and Hermione exchanged darkly significant looks.

"Whatever you do, don't mention Percy in front of Mum and Dad," Ron told Harry in a tense voice.

"Why not?"

"Because every time Percy's name's mentioned, Dad breaks whatever he's holding and Mum starts crying," Fred said.

"It's been awful," said Ginny sadly.

"Percy and Dad had a row," Ron began. He quite liked being the storyteller. "Bill said he's never seen Dad row with anyone like that. It's normally Mum who shouts... It was the week before our term at school ended. Percy came home, saying he got promoted into Junior Assistant to the Minister. He expected Dad to be all impressed, we think."

The Weasleys continued to retell the story alternately.

"It was weird. We wondered how he got promoted, considering he got into loads of trouble about Crouch. They said Percy ought to have realized Crouch was off his rocker and informed a superior. But you know Percy, Crouch left him in charge, so he wasn't going to complain."

"Dad wasn't impressed, though. Apparently, Minister Fudge has been storming round the Ministry checking that nobody's having any contact with Dumbledore. They think he's just making trouble, saying You-Know-Who's back."

"Fudge suspects Dad. He knows he's friendly with Dumbledore, and he's always thought Dad's a bit of a weirdo because of his Muggle obsession—"

"But what's this got to do with Percy?" asked Harry, confused.

"I'm coming to that. Dad reckons Fudge only wants Percy in his office because he wants to use him to spy on the family —and Dumbledore."

Harry let out a low whistle. "Bet Percy loved that."

Ron laughed in a hollow sort of way.

"He went completely berserk. He said— well, he said loads of terrible stuff. He said he's been having to struggle against Dad's lousy reputation ever since he joined the Ministry and that Dad's got no ambition and that's why we've always been— you know— not had a lot of money, I mean—"

"What?" said Harry in disbelief.

"I know," said Ron in a low voice. "And it got worse. He said Dad was an idiot to run around with Dumbledore, that Dumbledore was heading for big trouble and Dad was going to go down with him, and that he —Percy— knew where his loyalty lay and it was with the Ministry. And if Mum and Dad were going to become traitors to the Ministry he was going to make sure everyone knew he didn't belong to our family anymore."

"He packed his bags the same night and left. He's living here in London now."

"Mum's been in a right state. You know, crying and stuff. She came up to London to try and talk to Percy but he slammed the door in her face. I don't know what he does if he meets Dad at work —ignores him, I suppose."

"Not to mention, we have to leave Daisy behind," Fred added bitterly.

"There. Someone's got it worse than you, Harry," George said jokingly, though his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "We're not allowed to contact her at all, out here."

Harry couldn't say anything. He just awkwardly fixed his glasses.

After further catching up, the kids decided to go downstairs for dinner.

"Don't forget to keep your voice down in the hall, Harry," Hermione whispered.

Slowly, they tip-toed down the hall and saw Lupin, Mrs. Weasley, and Tonks at the front door, magically sealing its many locks and bolts behind the leaving Order's members.

"We're eating down in the kitchen," Mrs. Weasley whispered, meeting them at the bottom of the stairs. "Harry, dear, if you'll just tiptoe across the hall, it's through this door here—"

CRASH.

"Tonks!" cried Mrs. Weasley exasperatedly, turning to look behind her.

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

But the rest of her words were drowned by a horrible, earsplitting, bloodcurdling screech.

A pair of moth-eaten velvet curtains flew apart to reveal a life-size portrait of an old woman in a black cap, screaming and screaming as though she was being tortured: "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—"

Lupin and Mrs. Weasley darted forward and tried to tug the curtains shut over the old woman, but they would not close and she screeched louder than ever, brandishing clawed hands as though trying to tear at their faces.

Then Sirius came charging out of a door.

"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!" he roared, seizing the curtain.

The old woman's face blanched.

"Yoooou!" she howled, her eyes popping at the sight of the man. "Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!"

"I said— shut— UP!"

With a stupendous effort, the two ex-Marauders managed to force the curtains closed again.

The old woman's screeches died and an echoing silence fell.

Panting slightly and sweeping his long dark hair out of his eyes, Sirius, turned to face his godson.

"Hello, Harry," he said grimly, "I see you've met my mother."