Untitled Part 6
Mrs. Weasley followed them upstairs looking grim.
"I want you all to go straight to bed, no talking," she saidas they reached the first landing. "We've got a busy daytomorrow. I expect Ginny's asleep," she added to Hermione,"so try not to wake her up."
"Asleep, yeah, right," said Fred in an undertone, afterHermione bade them good night and they were climbing tothe next floor. "If Ginny's not lying awake waiting forHermione to tell her everything they said downstairs, thenI'm a flobberworm. ..."
"All right, Ron, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley on the secondlanding, pointing them into their bedroom. "Off to bed withyou."
" 'Night," Harry and Ron said to the twins.
"Sleep tight," said Fred, winking.
Mrs. Weasley closed the door behind Harry with a sharpsnap. The bedroom looked, if anything, even danker andgloomier than it had on first sight. The blank picture on thewall was now breathing very slowly and deeply, as thoughits invisible occupant was asleep. Harry put on his pajamas,took off his glasses, and climbed into his chilly bed whileRon threw Owl Treats up on top of the wardrobe to pacifyHedwig and Pigwidgeon, who were clattering around andrustling their wings restlessly.
"We can't let them out to hunt every night," Ronexplained as he pulled on his maroon pajamas."Dumbledore doesn't want too many owls swooping aroundthe square, thinks it'll look suspicious. Oh yeah ... I forgot...."
He crossed to the door and bolted it.
"What're you doing that for?"
"Kreacher," said Ron as he turned off the light. "Firstnight I was here he came wandering in at three in themorning. Trust me, you don't want to wake up and find himprowling around your room. Anyway ..." He got into his bed,settled down under the covers, then turned to look at Harryin the darkness. Harry could see his outline by themoonlight filtering in through the grimy window. "Whatd'you reckon?"
Harry didn't need to ask what Ron meant.
"Well, they didn't tell us much we couldn't have guessed,did they?" he said, thinking of all that had been saiddownstairs. "I mean, all they've really said is that theOrder's trying to stop people joining Vol —"
There was a sharp intake of breath from Ron.
"— demort," said Harry firmly. "When are you going tostart using his name? Sirius and Lupin do."
Ron ignored this last comment. "Yeah, you're right," hesaid. "We already knew nearly everything they told us, fromusing the Extendable Ears. The only new bit was —"
Crack.
"OUCH!"
"Keep your voice down, Ron, or Mum'll be back up here."
"You two just Apparated on my knees!"
"Yeah, well, it's harder in the dark —"
Harry saw the blurred outlines of Fred and Georgeleaping down from Ron's bed. There was a groan ofbedsprings and Harry's mattress descended a few inches asGeorge sat down near his feet.
"So, got there yet?" said George eagerly.
"The weapon Sirius mentioned?" said Harry.
"Let slip, more like," said Fred with relish, now sittingnext to Ron. "We didn't hear about that on the oldExtendables, did we?"
"What d'you reckon it is?" said Harry.
"Could be anything," said Fred.
"But there can't be anything worse than the AvadaKedavra curse, can there?" said Ron. "What's worse thandeath?"
"Maybe it's something that can kill loads of people atonce," suggested George.
"Maybe it's some particularly painful way of killingpeople," said Ron fearfully.
"He's got the Cruciatus Curse for causing pain," saidHarry. "He doesn't need anything more efficient than that."
There was a pause and Harry knew that the others, likehim, were wondering what horrors this weapon couldperpetrate.
"So who d'you thinks got it now?" asked George.
"I hope it's our side," said Ron, sounding slightly nervous.
"If it is, Dumbledore's probably keeping it," said Fred.
"Where?" said Ron quickly. "Hogwarts?"
"Bet it is!" said George. "That's where he hid theSorcerer's Stone!"
"A weapon's going to be a lot bigger than the Stone,though!" said Ron.
"Not necessarily," said Fred.
"Yeah, size is no guarantee of power," said George. "Lookat Ginny."
"What d'you mean?" said Harry.
"You've never been on the receiving end of one of herBat-Bogey Hexes, have you?"
"Shhh!" said Fred, half-rising from the bed. "Listen!"
They fell silent. Footsteps were coming up the stairsagain.
"Mum," said George, and without further ado there was aloud crack and Harry felt the weight vanish from the end ofhis bed. A few seconds later and they heard the floorboardcreak outside their door; Mrs. Weasley was plainly listeningto see whether they were talking or not.
Hedwig and Pigwidgeon hooted dolefully. The floorboardcreaked again and they heard her heading upstairs tocheck on Fred and George.
"She doesn't trust us at all, you know," said Ronregretfully.
Harry was sure he would not be able to fall asleep; theevening had been so packed with things to think about thathe fully expected to lie awake for hours mulling it all over.He wanted to continue talking to Ron, but Mrs. Weasley wasnow creaking back downstairs again, and once she hadgone he distinctly heard others making their way upstairs.... In fact, many-legged creatures were cantering softly upand down outside the bedroom door, and Hagrid, the Careof Magical Creatures teacher, was saying, "Beauties, aren'they, eh, Harry? We'll be studyin' weapons this term. ..."And Harry saw that the creatures had cannons for headsand were wheeling to face him. ... He ducked. ...
The next thing he knew, he was curled in a warm ballunder his bedclothes, and George's loud voice was fillingthe room.
"Mum says get up, your breakfast is in the kitchen andthen she needs you in the drawing room, there are loadsmore doxies than she thought and she's found a nest ofdead puffskeins under the sofa."
Half an hour later, Harry and Ron, who had dressed andbreakfasted quickly, entered the drawing room, a long,high-ceilinged room on the first floor with olive-green wallscovered in dirty tapestries. The carpet exhaled little cloudsof dust every time someone put their foot on it and the long,moss-green velvet curtains were buzzing as thoughswarming with invisible bees. It was around these that Mrs.Weasley, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George were grouped,all looking rather peculiar, as they had tied cloths over theirnoses and mouths. Each of them was also holding a largebottle of black liquid with a nozzle at the end.
"Cover your faces and take a spray," Mrs. Weasley said toHarry and Ron the moment she saw them, pointing to twomore bottles of black liquid standing on a spindle-leggedtable. "It's Doxycide. I've never seen an infestation this bad— what that house-elf's been doing for the last ten years —"Hermione's face was half concealed by a tea towel butHarry distinctly saw her throw a reproachful look at Mrs.Weasley at these words.
"Kreacher's really old, he probably couldn't manage —"
"You'd be surprised what Kreacher can manage when hewants to, Hermione," said Sirius, who had just entered theroom carrying a bloodstained bag of what appeared to bedead rats. "I've just been feeding Buckbeak," he added, inreply to Harry's inquiring look. "I keep him upstairs in mymother's bedroom. Anyway ... this writing desk ..."
He dropped the bag of rats onto an armchair, then bentover to examine the locked cabinet which, Harry nownoticed for the first time, was shaking slightly.
"Well, Molly, I'm pretty sure this is a boggart," said Sirius,peering through the keyhole, "but perhaps we ought to letMad-Eye have a shifty at it before we let it out — knowingmy mother it could be something much worse."
"Right you are, Sirius," said Mrs. Weasley.
They were both speaking in carefully light, polite voicesthat told Harry quite plainly that neither had forgotten theirdisagreement of the night before.
A loud, clanging bell sounded from downstairs, followedat once by the cacophony of screams and wails that hadbeen triggered the previous night by Tonks knocking overthe umbrella stand.
"I keep telling them not to ring the doorbell!" said Siriusexasperatedly, hurrying back out of the room. They heardhim thundering down the stairs as Mrs. Black's screechesechoed up through the house once more: "Stains ofdishonor, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth..."
"Close the door, please, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley.
Harry took as much time as he dared to close the drawingroom door; he wanted to listen to what was going ondownstairs. Sirius had obviously managed to shut thecurtains over his mother's portrait because she hadstopped screaming. He heard Sirius walking down the hall,then the clattering of the chain on the front door, and thena deep voice he recognized as Kingsley Shacklebolt'ssaying, "Hestia's just relieved me, so she's got Moody'scloak now, thought I'd leave a report for Dumbledore. ..."
Feeling Mrs. Weasley's eyes on the back of his head,Harry regretfully closed the drawing room door andrejoined the doxy party.
Mrs. Weasley was bending over to check the page ondoxies in Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests,which was lying open on the sofa.
"Right, you lot, you need to be careful, because doxiesbite and their teeth are poisonous. I've got a bottle ofantidote here, but I'd rather nobody needed it."
She straightened up, positioned herself squarely in frontof the curtains, and beckoned them all forward.
"When I say the word, start spraying immediately," shesaid. "They'll come flying out at us, I expect, but it says onthe sprays one good squirt will paralyze them. Whenthey're immobilized, just throw them in this bucket."
She stepped carefully out of their line of fire and raisedher own spray. "All right — squirt!"
Harry had been spraying only a few seconds when a fullygrown doxy came soaring out of a fold in the material, shinybeetlelike wings whirring, tiny needle-sharp teeth bared, itsfairylike body covered with thick black hair and its four tinyfists clenched with fury. Harry caught it full in the face witha blast of Doxycide; it froze in midair and fell, with asurprisingly loud thunk, onto the worn carpet below. Harrypicked it up and threw it in the bucket.
"Fred, what are you doing?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply."Spray that at once and throw it away!"
Harry looked around. Fred was holding a struggling doxybetween his forefinger and thumb.
"Right-o," Fred said brightly, spraying the doxy quickly inthe face so that it fainted, but the moment Mrs. Weasley'sback was turned he pocketed it with a wink.
"We want to experiment with doxy venom for our SkivingSnack-boxes," George told Harry under his breath.
Deftly spraying two doxies at once as they soared straightfor his nose, Harry moved closer to George and mutteredout of the corner of his mouth, "What are SkivingSnackboxes?"
"Range of sweets to make you ill," George whispered,keeping a wary eye on Mrs. Weasley's back. "Not seriouslyill, mind, just ill enough to get you out of a class when youfeel like it. Fred and I have been developing them thissummer. They're double-ended, color-coded chews. If youeat the orange half of the Puking Pastilles, you throw up.Moment you've been rushed out of the lesson for thehospital wing, you swallow the purple half —"
" '— which restores you to full fitness, enabling you topursue the leisure activity of your own choice during anhour that would otherwise have been devoted tounprofitable boredom.' That's what we're putting in theadverts, anyway," whispered Fred, who had edged over outof Mrs. Weasley's line of vision and was now sweeping a fewstray doxies from the floor and adding them to his pocket."But they still need a bit of work. At the moment our testersare having a bit of trouble stopping puking long enough toswallow the purple end."
"Testers?"
"Us," said Fred. "We take it in turns. George did theFainting Fancies — we both tried the Nosebleed Nougat —"
"Mum thought we'd been dueling," said George.
"Joke shop still on, then?" Harry muttered, pretending tobe adjusting the nozzle on his spray.
"Well, we haven't had a chance to get premises yet," saidFred, dropping his voice even lower as Mrs. Weasleymopped her brow with her scarf before returning to theattack, "so we're running it as a mail-order service at themoment. We put advertisements in the Daily Prophet lastweek."
"All thanks to you, mate," said George. "But don't worry ...Mum hasn't got a clue. She won't read the Daily Prophetanymore, 'cause of it telling lies about you andDumbledore."
Harry grinned. He had forced the Weasley twins to takethe thousand-Galleon prize money he had won in theTriwizard Tournament to help them realize their ambitionto open a joke shop, but he was still glad to know that hispart in furthering their plans was unknown to Mrs. Weasley,who did not think that running a joke shop was a suitablecareer for two of her sons.
The de-doxying of the curtains took most of the morning.It was past midday when Mrs. Weasley finally removed herprotective scarf, sank into a sagging armchair, and sprangup again with a cry of disgust, having sat on the bag of deadrats. The curtains were no longer buzzing; they hung limpand damp from the intensive spraying; unconscious doxieslay crammed in the bucket at the foot of them beside a bowlof their black eggs, at which Crookshanks was now sniffingand Fred and George were shooting covetous looks.
"I think we'll tackle those after lunch."
Mrs. Weasley pointed at the dusty glass-fronted cabinetsstanding on either side of the mantelpiece. They werecrammed with an odd assortment of objects: a selection ofrusty daggers, claws, a coiled snakeskin, a number oftarnished silver boxes inscribed with languages Harry couldnot understand and, least pleasant of all, an ornate crystalbottle with a large opal set into the stopper, full of whatHarry was quite sure was blood.
The clanging doorbell rang again. Everyone looked atMrs. Weasley.
"Stay here," she said firmly, snatching up the bag of ratsas Mrs. Blacks 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, everyone dashed over to the window to look downonto the doorstep. They could see the top of an unkemptgingery head and a stack of precariously balancedcauldrons.
"Mundungus!" said Hermione. "What's he brought allthose cauldrons for?"
"Probably looking for a safe place to keep them," saidHarry. "Isn't that what he was doing the night he wassupposed 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 anddisappeared from view. "Blimey, Mum won't like that. ..."
He and George crossed to the door and stood beside it,listening intently. Mrs. Black's screaming had stoppedagain.
"Mundungus is talking to Sirius and Kingsley," Fredmuttered, frowning with concentration. "Can't hearproperly ... d'you reckon we can risk the Extendable Ears?"
"Might be worth it," said George. "I could sneak upstairsand get a pair —"But at that precise moment there was an explosion ofsound from downstairs that rendered Extendable Earsquite unnecessary. All of them could hear exactly what Mrs.Weasley was shouting at the top of her voice.
"WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLENGOODS!"
"I love hearing Mum shouting at someone else," saidFred, with a satisfied smile on his face as he opened thedoor an inch or so to allow Mrs. Weasley's voice topermeate the room better. "It makes such a nice change."
"— COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN'TGOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOUDRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS INTO THE HOUSE —"
"The idiots are letting her get into her stride," saidGeorge, shaking his head. "You've got to head her off early,otherwise she builds up a head of steam and goes on forhours. And she's been dying to have a go at Mundungusever since he sneaked off when he was supposed to befollowing you, Harry — and there goes Sirius's mum again—"
Mrs. Weasley's voice was lost amid fresh shrieks andscreams from the portraits in the hall. George made to shutthe door to drown the noise, but before he could do so, ahouse-elf edged into the room.
Except for the filthy rag tied like a loincloth around itsmiddle, it was completely naked. It looked very old. Its skinseemed to be several times too big for it and though it wasbald like all house-elves, there was a quantity of white hairgrowing out of its large, batlike ears. Its eyes were abloodshot and watery gray, and its fleshy nose was largeand rather snoutlike.
The elf took absolutely no notice of Harry and the rest.Acting as though it could not see them, it shuffledhunchbacked, slowly and doggedly, toward the far end ofthe room, muttering under its breath all the while in ahoarse, deep voice like a bullfrog's, "... Smells like a drainand a criminal to boot, but she's no better, nasty old bloodtraitor with her brats messing up my Mistress's house, ohmy poor Mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they'velet in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh theshame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors andthieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do. ..."
"Hello, Kreacher," said Fred very loudly, closing the doorwith a snap.
The house-elf froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, andthen gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start ofsurprise.
"Kreacher did not see Young Master," he said, turningaround and bowing to Fred. Still facing the carpet, headded, perfectly audibly, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitorit is."
"Sorry?" said George. "Didn't catch that last bit."
"Kreacher said nothing," said the elf, with a second bowto George, adding in a clear undertone, "and there's itstwin, unnatural little beasts they are."
Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. The elfstraightened up, eyeing them all very malevolently, andapparently convinced that they could not hear him as hecontinued to mutter.
"... and there's the Mudblood, standing there bold asbrass, oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry, and there'sa new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name, what is hedoing here, Kreacher doesn't know ..."
"This is Harry, Kreacher," said Hermione tentatively."Harry Potter."Kreacher's pale eyes widened and he muttered faster andmore furiously than ever.
"The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is myfriend, if Kreacher's Mistress saw him in such company, ohwhat would she say —"
"Don't call her a Mudblood!" said Ron and Ginny together,very angrily.
"It doesn't matter," Hermione whispered, "he's not in hisright mind, he doesn't know what he's —"
"Don't kid yourself, Hermione, he knows exactly what he'ssaying," said Fred, eyeing Kreacher with great dislike.
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 that 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 onto 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 fromthe doorway. The noise in the hall had abated; perhaps Mrs.Weasley and Mundungus had moved their argument downinto the kitchen. At the sight of Sirius, Kreacher flunghimself into a ridiculously low bow that flattened hissnoutlike nose on the floor.
"Stand up straight," said Sirius impatiently. "Now, whatare you up to?"
"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf repeated. "Kreacher livesto serve the noble house of Black —"
"— and it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy," saidSirius.
"Master always liked his little joke," said Kreacher,bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, "Master wasa nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart —"
"My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher," Siriussnapped. "She kept herself alive out of pure spite."
Kreacher bowed again and said, "Whatever Master says,"then muttered furiously, "Master is not fit to wipe slimefrom his mother's boots, oh my poor Mistress, what wouldshe say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hatedhim, 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, yousneak something off to your room so we can't throw it out."
"Kreacher would never move anything from its properplace in Master's house," said the elf, then muttered veryfast, "Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestrywas thrown out, seven centuries it's been in the family,Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and theblood traitors and the brats destroy it —"
"I thought it might be that," said Sirius, casting adisdainful look at the opposite wall. "She'll have put anotherPermanent 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."
It seemed that Kreacher did not dare disobey a directorder; nevertheless, the look he gave Sirius as he shuffledout past him was redolent of deepest loathing and hemuttered 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 thehouse now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, sheswore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's amurderer too —"
"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!" said Siriusirritably, and he slammed the door shut on the elf.
"Sirius, he's not right in the head," said Hermionepleadingly, "I don't think he realizes we can hear him."
"He's been alone too long," said Sirius, "taking madorders from my mother's portrait and talking to himself, buthe was always a foul little —"
"If you just set him free," said Hermione hopefully,"maybe —"
"We can't set him free, he knows too much about theOrder," said Sirius curtly. "And anyway, the shock would killhim. You suggest to him that he leaves this house, see howhe takes it."
Sirius walked across the room, where the tapestryKreacher had been trying to protect hung the length of thewall. Harry and the others followed.
The tapestry looked immensely old; it was faded andlooked as though doxies had gnawed it in places;nevertheless, the golden thread with which it wasembroidered still glinted brightly enough to show them asprawling family tree dating back (as far as Harry couldtell) to the Middle Ages. Large words at the very top of thetapestry read:
THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK"TOUJOURS PUR"
"You're not on here!" said Harry, after scanning thebottom of the tree.
"I used to be there," said Sirius, pointing at a small,round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigaretteburn. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran awayfrom home — Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the storyunder 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 werereally good about it; they sort of adopted me as a secondson. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's during the schoolholidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place of myown, 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. Potter's for Sunday lunch, though."
"But ... why did you ... ?"
"Leave?" Sirius smiled bitterly and ran a hand through hislong, unkempt hair. "Because I hated the whole lot of them:my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that tobe 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, atthe name REGULUS BLACK. A date of death (some fifteenyears previously) followed the date of birth.
"He was younger than me," said Sirius, "and a muchbetter son, as I was constantly reminded."
"But he died," said Harry.
"Yeah," said Sirius. "Stupid idiot ... he joined the DeathEaters."
"You're kidding!"
"Come on, Harry, haven't you seen enough of this houseto tell what kind of wizards my family were?" said Siriustestily.
"Were — were your parents Death Eaters as well?"
"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had theright idea, they were all for the purification of theWizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and havingpurebloods in charge. They weren't alone either, therewere quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his truecolors, who thought he had the right idea about things. ...They got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared todo to get power, though. But I bet my parents thoughtRegulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."
"Was he killed by an Auror?" Harry asked tentatively.
"Oh no," said Sirius. "No, he was murdered by Voldemort.Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely, I doubt Regulus wasever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person.From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, thenpanicked about what he was being asked to do and tried toback out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation toVoldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."
"Lunch," said Mrs. Weasley's voice.
She was holding her wand high in front of her, balancinga huge tray loaded with sandwiches and cake on its tip. Shewas very red in the face and still looked angry. The othersmoved over to her, eager for some food, but Harryremained with Sirius, who had bent closer to the tapestry.
"I haven't looked at this for years. There's PhineasNigellus ... my great-great-grandfather, see? Least popularheadmaster Hogwarts ever had ... and Araminta Meliflua ...cousin of my mother's ... tried to force through a MinistryBill to make Muggle-hunting legal ... and dear AuntElladora ... she started the family tradition of beheadinghouse-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays ... ofcourse, anytime the family produced someone halfwaydecent they were disowned. I see Tonks isn't on here.Maybe that's why Kreacher won't take orders from her —he's supposed to do whatever anyone in the family askshim. ..."
"You and Tonks are related?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Oh yeah, her mother, Andromeda, was my favoritecousin," said Sirius, examining the tapestry carefully. "No,Andromeda's not on here either, look —"
He pointed to another small round burn mark betweentwo names, Bellatrix and Narcissa.
"Andromeda's sisters are still here because they madelovely, respectable pure-blood marriages, but Andromedamarried a Muggle-born, Ted Tonks, so —"
Sirius mimed blasting the tapestry with a wand andlaughed sourly. Harry, however, did not laugh; he was toobusy staring at the names to the right of Andromeda's burnmark. A double line of gold embroidery linked NarcissaBlack with Lucius Malfoy, and a single vertical gold linefrom their names led to the name Draco.
"You're related to the Malfoys!"
"The pure-blood families are all interrelated," said Sirius."If you're only going to let your sons and daughters marrypurebloods your choice is very limited, there are hardly anyof us left. Molly and I are cousins by marriage and Arthur'ssomething like my second cousin once removed. But there'sno point looking for them on here — if ever a family was abunch of blood traitors it's the Weasleys."
But Harry was now looking at the name to the left ofAndromeda's burn: Bellatrix Black, which was connected bya double line to Rodolphus Lestrange.
"Lestrange ..." Harry said aloud. The name had stirredsomething in his memory; he knew it from somewhere, butfor a moment he couldn't think where, though it gave himan odd, creeping sensation in the pit of his stomach.
"They're in Azkaban," said Sirius shortly.
Harry looked at him curiously.
"Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus came in with BartyCrouch, Junior," said Sirius in the same brusque voice."Rodolphus's brother, Rabastan, was with them too."
And Harry remembered: He had seen Bellatrix Lestrangeinside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the strange device in whichthoughts and memories could be stored: a tall dark womanwith heavy-lidded eyes, who had stood at her trial andproclaimed her continuing allegiance to Lord Voldemort,her pride that she had tried to find him after his downfalland her conviction that she would one day be rewarded forher loyalty.
"You never said she was your —"
"Does it matter if she's my cousin?" snapped Sirius. "Asfar as I'm concerned, they're not my family. She's certainlynot my family. I haven't seen her since I was your age,unless you count a glimpse of her coming in to Azkaban.D'you think I'm proud of having relatives like her?"
"Sorry," said Harry quickly, "I didn't mean — I was justsurprised, that's all —"
"It doesn't matter, don't apologize," Sirius mumbled atonce. He turned away from the tapestry, his hands deep inhis pockets. "I don't like being back here," he said, staringacross the drawing room. "I never thought I'd be stuck inthis house again."
Harry understood completely. He knew how he would feelif forced, when he was grown up and thought he was free ofthe place forever, to return and live at number four, PrivetDrive.
"It's ideal for headquarters, of course," Sirius said. "Myfather put every security measure known to Wizard-kind onit when he lived here. It's Unplottable, so Muggles couldnever come and call — as if they'd have wanted to — andnow Dumbledore's added his protection, you'd be hard putto find a safer house anywhere. Dumbledore's SecretKeeper for the Order, you know — nobody can findheadquarters unless he tells them personally where it is —that note Moody showed you last night, that was fromDumbledore. ..." Sirius gave a short, barklike laugh. "If myparents could see the use it was being put to now ... well,my mother's portrait should give you some idea. ..."
He scowled for a moment, then sighed.
"I wouldn't mind if I could just get out occasionally and dosomething useful. I've asked Dumbledore whether I canescort you to your hearing — as Snuffles, obviously — so Ican give you a bit of moral support, what d'you think?"
Harry felt as though his stomach had sunk through thedusty carpet. He had not thought about the hearing oncesince dinner the previous evening; in the excitement ofbeing back with the people he liked best, of hearingeverything that was going on, it had completely flown hismind. At Sirius's words, however, the crushing sense ofdread returned to him. He stared at Hermione and theWeasleys, all tucking into their sandwiches, and thoughthow he would feel if they went back to Hogwarts withouthim.
"Don't worry," Sirius said. Harry looked up and realizedthat Sirius had been watching him. "I'm sure they're goingto clear you, there's definitely something in theInternational Statute of Secrecy about being allowed to usemagic to save your own life."
"But if they do expel me," said Harry, quietly, "can I comeback here and live with you?"
Sirius smiled sadly.
"We'll see."
"I'd feel a lot better about the hearing if I knew I didn'thave to go back to the Dursleys," Harry pressed him.
"They must be bad if you prefer this place," said Siriusgloomily.
"Hurry up, you two, or there won't be any food left," Mrs.Weasley called.
Sirius heaved another great sigh, cast a dark look at thetapestry, and he and Harry went to join the others.
Harry tried his best not to think about the hearing whilethey emptied the glass cabinets that afternoon. Fortunatelyfor him, it was a job that required a lot of concentration, asmany of the objects in there seemed very reluctant to leavetheir dusty shelves. Sirius sustained a bad bite from a silversnuffbox; within seconds, his bitten hand had developed anunpleasant crusty covering like a tough brown glove.
"It's okay," he said, examining the hand with interestbefore tapping it lightly with his wand and restoring its skinto normal, "must be Wartcap powder in there."
He threw the box aside into the sack where they weredepositing the debris from the cabinets; Harry saw Georgewrap his own hand carefully in a cloth moments later andsneak the box into his already doxy-filled pocket.
They found an unpleasant-looking silver instrument,something like a many-legged pair of tweezers, whichscuttled up Harry's arm like a spider when he picked it up,and attempted to puncture his skin; Sirius seized it andsmashed it with a heavy book entitled Nature's Nobility: AWizarding Genealogy. There was a musical box that emitteda faintly sinister, tinkling tune when wound, and they allfound themselves becoming curiously weak and sleepy untilGinny had the sense to slam the lid shut; also a heavy locketthat none of them could open, a number of ancient sealsand, in a dusty box, an Order of Merlin, First Class, that hadbeen awarded to Sirius's grandfather for "Services to theMinistry."
"It means he gave them a load of gold," said Siriuscontemptuously, throwing the medal into the rubbish sack.
Several times, Kreacher sidled into the room andattempted to smuggle things away under his loincloth,muttering horrible curses every time they caught him at it.When Sirius wrested a large golden ring bearing the Blackcrest from his grip Kreacher actually burst into furioustears and left the room sobbing under his breath andcalling Sirius names Harry had never heard before.
"It was my father's," said Sirius, throwing the ring intothe sack. "Kreacher wasn't quite as devoted to him as to mymother, but I still caught him snogging a pair of my father'sold trousers last week."
Mrs. Weasley kept them all working very hard over thenext few days. The drawing room took three days todecontaminate; finally the only undesirable things left in itwere the tapestry of the Black family tree, which resisted alltheir attempts to remove it from the wall, and the rattlingwriting desk; Moody had not dropped by headquarters yet,so they could not be sure what was inside it.
They moved from the drawing room to a dining room onthe ground floor where they found spiders large as saucerslurking in the dresser (Ron left the room hurriedly to makea cup of tea and did not return for an hour and a half). Thechina, which bore the Black crest and motto, was all thrownunceremoniously into a sack by Sirius, and the same fatemet a set of old photographs in tarnished silver frames, allof whose occupants squealed shrilly as the glass coveringthem smashed.
Snape might refer to their work as "cleaning," but inHarry's opinion they were really waging war on the house,which was putting up a very good fight, aided and abettedby Kreacher. The house-elf kept appearing wherever theywere congregated, his muttering becoming more and moreoffensive as he attempted to remove anything he could fromthe rubbish sacks. Sirius went as far as to threaten him withclothes, but Kreacher fixed him with a watery stare andsaid, "Master must do as Master wishes," before turningaway and muttering very loudly, "but Master will not turnKreacher away, no, because Kreacher knows what they areup to, oh yes, he is plotting against the Dark Lord, yes, withthese Mudbloods and traitors and scum. ..."
At which Sirius, ignoring Hermione's protests, seizedKreacher by the back of his loincloth and threw him bodilyfrom the room.
The doorbell rang several times a day, which was the cuefor Sirius's mother to start shrieking again, and for Harryand the others to attempt to eavesdrop on the visitor,though they gleaned very little from the brief glimpses andsnatches of conversation they were able to sneak beforeMrs. Weasley recalled them to their tasks. Snape flitted inand out of the house several times more, though to Harry'srelief they never came face-to-face; he also caught sight ofhis Transfiguration teacher, Professor McGonagall, lookingvery odd in a Muggle dress and coat, though she alsoseemed too busy to linger.
Sometimes, however, the visitors stayed to help; Tonksjoined them for a memorable afternoon in which they founda murderous old ghoul lurking in an upstairs toilet, andLupin, who was staying in the house with Sirius but who leftit for long periods to do mysterious work for the Order,helped them repair a grandfather clock that had developedthe unpleasant habit of shooting heavy bolts at passersby.Mundungus redeemed himself slightly in Mrs. Weasley'seyes by rescuing Ron from an ancient set of purple robesthat had tried to strangle him when he removed them fromtheir wardrobe.
Despite the fact that he was still sleeping badly, stillhaving dreams about corridors and locked doors that madehis scar prickle, Harry was managing to have fun for thefirst time all summer. As long as he was busy he was happy;when the action abated, however, whenever he dropped hisguard, or lay exhausted in bed watching blurred shadowsmove across the ceiling, the thought of the looming Ministryhearing returned to him. Fear jabbed at his insides likeneedles as he wondered what was going to happen to him ifhe was expelled. The idea was so terrible that he did notdare voice it aloud, not even to Ron and Hermione, who,though he often saw them whispering together and castinganxious looks in his direction, followed his lead in notmentioning it. Sometimes he could not prevent hisimagination showing him a faceless Ministry official whowas snapping his wand in two and ordering him back to theDursleys' ... but he would not go. He was determined onthat. He would come back here to Grimmauld Place and livewith Sirius.He felt as
He felt as though a brick had dropped into his stomachwhen Mrs. Weasley turned to him during dinner onWednesday evening and said quietly, "I've ironed your bestclothes for tomorrow morning, Harry, and I want you towash your hair tonight too. A good first impression canwork wonders."
Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny all stoppedtalking and looked over at him. Harry nodded and tried tokeep eating his chops, but his mouth had become so dry hecould not chew.
"How am I getting there?" he asked Mrs. Weasley, tryingto sound unconcerned.
"Arthur's taking you to work with him," said Mrs. Weasleygently.
Mr. Weasley smiled encouragingly at Harry across thetable.
"You can wait in my office until it's time for the hearing,"he said.
Harry looked over at Sirius, but before he could ask thequestion, Mrs. Weasley had answered it.
"Professor Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea forSirius to go with you, and I must say I —"
"— think he's quite right," said Sirius through clenchedteeth.
Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips.
"When did Dumbledore tell you that?" Harry said, staringat Sirius.
"He came last night, when you were in bed," said Mr.Weasley.
Sirius stabbed moodily at a potato with his fork. Harrydropped his own eyes to his plate. The thought thatDumbledore had been in the house on the eve of hishearing and not asked to see him made him feel, if thatwere possible, even worse.
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