Harry grumbled mentally as his feet touched the ground at Grimmauld Place, London. He still had not been able to talk to Dumbledore about the next academic year. He had gotten his N.E.W.T. results and had scored an Outstanding in all seven subjects with extra credit. He had written to a few of his teachers to inquire about apprenticeship but all of them, except Professor Slughorn, said that he would also need to speak to Dumbledore first since they were primarily teachers at Hogwarts. To talk to the headmaster who was supposed to be very busy, Harry and Dylan were here at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.
"How in Merlin's name did you escape your bodyguards, Uncle Sirius?" asked Dylan curiously.
Sirius smirked. "I'm not a Marauder for nothing, Dylan. The Aurors are under the impression that I'm still at Black Manor. My bodyguards are loyal but we can't risk anyone knowing the location of headquarters. Here, read this and memorise it," he said, handing them a slip of paper in his handwriting.
The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.
Once the two brothers read it, Sirius burnt the piece of paper. No sooner did they think of the place, a house materialised between Numbers Eleven and Thirteen. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing the others out of its way. Sirius quickly led them to the front door as he tapped the handle. There were a series of clicks as the door opened, leading them inside.
A dim light illuminated the hallway which while not very inviting, was at least somewhat clean. "I can see why you did not want to live here," said Harry casually as they walked forward.
Sirius snorted. "This place wasn't this bad when I was growing up, you know. It used to be very elegant and tasteful but ever since my mother died, it has become terrible. All the enchantments around the house have mutated with the wild magic in the air to create strange curses and a home for magical pests. I asked the other house-elves to finally come here to do some basic cleaning. It had remained like this because I don't usually come here and even the other elves don't want to brave my mother's old house elf; nasty little thing. He hasn't cleaned anything in here for ages and you can see the results. Anyway, there's going to be a meeting soon, so do you want to come?"
"And be asked to join Dumbledore's little vigilante club?" said Harry, rolling his eyes. "No thanks. I don't work for the man and I never will. I'm actually shocked that you provided him with a house."
"Voldemort is our biggest priority right now," said Sirius grimly. "And as much as I hate to say it, things would be much smoother if I work with the Chief Warlock without any issues. This house was a waste anyway but well protected and Dumbledore wanted to add the Fidelius Charm too and since I'm the Secret Keeper I thought, why not? Go up the stairs, boys, and you'll find one of the rooms clean… I hope."
"It's fine, Uncle Sirius," Dylan shrugged. He observed some of the scowling portraits. "Hmm, these portraits aren't so bad at Black Manor. Most of them may not be chatty, but they don't act like this . I know for a fact that Orion Black's portrait actually likes me."
"Again, the wild magic and enchantments gone bad have affected the portraits too," said Sirius in exasperation. "What that elf has been doing, I'll never know. By the way, I forgot to inform you that the Weasleys are staying here until the end of the holidays. I don't know why but it seems their home is not warded yet and Dumbledore says they are a major target. Either way, as long as they can take care of themselves, I don't care. I'll call you in an hour or two."
With that, Sirius disappeared down the hallway while Harry and Dylan were examining some of the rooms. They climbed up the stairs to the first-floor landing when they heard a crack as a door opened to the side.
"Harry, Dylan!" Fred greeted them with a broad smile.
"We didn't think you would grace us with your presence," said George, grinning widely. "Come on in."
The two of them entered the room and looked around. "Well, at least this room is clean," muttered Dylan. From behind, he heard a voice saying, "What are they doing here?"
"I'm not here to see you, Weasley," said Harry indifferently. "I came here to talk to Dumbledore but I was told they were having their meeting, so I have to stay."
Ron's ears turned pink as he began sulking. Harry simply raised an eyebrow at the twins who shrugged. "He wanted to be part of the Order but Mum and everyone else refused," explained George.
"Also, Mum has been forcing us to clean this house," said Fred. "It's like waging a war, let me tell you."
"Are you crazy?" asked Harry incredulously. "No offence but with this level of magical decay, no one without experience in dealing with curses should be going anywhere near those rooms! I wouldn't allow Dylan to go in there and your brother certainly shouldn't."
Dylan frowned. "Is it really -"
"Ron, I still can't get into the library!" said a very familiar voice. Dylan observed that Harry's eyes darkened slightly but no one else seemed to have noticed it.
"Nice to see you, Granger," said Harry cordially. "What are you doing here?"
Hermione scowled when she saw Harry. "I'm Ron and Ginny's friend," she said in her usual bossy tone. "Mrs Weasley figured that it would not be safe for me to stay in the Muggle world. I might be an important target because of the Death Eaters going after Muggle-borns."
Harry and Dylan locked eyes with each other, both of them thinking the same thing. Voldemort had other things to do rather than go specifically after Hermione Granger, whose self-importance was not something others shared. However, she was right in that Muggle-borns were in danger, though Harry doubted Voldemort would target them in large numbers this soon. He had bigger fish to fry, namely the Ministry of Magic.
"So, who's in this Order anyway?" asked Dylan, breaking the silence.
"Lots of people," Fred shrugged. "We've tried to listen to the meetings but the door is well-warded. We've met several people already, so we have a pretty good idea. There are Dumbledore's old friends like Doge and Moody -"
"Great," muttered Harry.
"Then there are a few more Aurors, Hogwarts teachers like McGonagall, Snape -"
"Snape?" exclaimed Dylan, scowling.
" Professor Snape," Hermione corrected him.
"Like that arsehole deserves that title," he sneered. "What is he doing for the Order?"
"He's a spy," Harry answered quietly, leaning against the wall casually, his ankles crossed. "He's supposed to be spying on Voldemort because Dumbledore is convinced that Snape is on his side."
"And what do you believe?" asked George curiously.
"Snape is not on Dumbledore's side. Dumbledore is taking a very risky gamble to accommodate the greasy git."
"And how would you know that?" Hermione snapped at him. "Professor Dumbledore trusts Professor Snape, so that should be enough for everyone!"
"I don't trust Dumbledore either, Granger, so that would be a little difficult," Harry shot back, rolling his eyes.
"How could you say that?" shrieked Hermione indignantly. "That's Professor Dumbledore you're talking about! He's the greatest wizard ever! The only one You-Know-Who ever feared!"
Harry couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. "The only one Voldemort ever feared?" he repeated disbelievingly. "Oh, please! Voldemort does not fear Dumbledore. He loathes him, true, and would do absolutely anything possible to get rid of the man, but fear him? No. That's just propaganda spouted by Dumbledore's supporters."
"Why don't you continue?" said Dylan, shutting off Hermione's rant as she opened her mouth furiously to recite 'facts' she had read from books.
"Yeah," said Fred slowly. "Then we have our brothers Bill, Charlie and Percy, though Percy is only here to curry favour with Dumbledore and Minister Black."
"How is that?" asked Dylan curiously. "I thought Bill was in Egypt and Charlie in Romania?"
"Well, yeah, but Dumbledore wants international witches and wizards in case the war goes outside Britain," said George with a shrug. "Bill got a transfer here to the London branch of Gringotts. He wasn't too happy, but there are other compensations."
"Like what?"
....
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