The morning they left for the Order of the Phoenix, the Grangers came over to see them off.
Mrs. Granger kissed Hermione's cheek and then, without hesitation, Kevin's as well. Mr. Granger shook Kevin's hand with the slightly-too-firm grip of a man who had accepted the situation but reserved the right to make it marginally uncomfortable.
"Take care of her," Mrs. Granger said.
"I will," Kevin said.
"Come on, both of you." Hermione had her bag over one shoulder and her dignity barely intact. "I'm older than Kevin, for your information. I can look after myself."
"Yes, yes. Our little Hermione, all grown up." Mrs. Granger patted her head with the ease of someone completely unintimidated by this argument.
Kevin had told the Grangers they were headed to a school club project — an after-hours group that worked with magical artifacts. Which was, technically, not a lie. The Order of the Phoenix worked with all kinds of artifacts.
He'd sent the protection amulet ahead by owl a week earlier. It had taken him far longer than he'd wanted — alchemy at his current level was humbling — but the spell it held would give him warning from Hogwarts if anything crossed the Grangers' threshold, and that was enough for now.
They caught a taxi to what appeared to be Number 11 Grimmauld Place. Climbed out. Stood on the pavement looking at the unbroken terrace and waited for reality to rearrange itself.
Number 12 sighed into existence between 11 and 13, pushing them apart like it had always been there. Grimy windows. Black peeling paint. A door knocker shaped like a silver serpent.
Harry's letter had been clear: do not ring the doorbell. Use Alohomora on the lock.
Kevin considered this instruction for a moment.
Then he pressed the bell.
It felt somewhat underwhelming, so he pressed it seven more times.
The door flew open. Harry stood on the threshold looking like a man who had been personally wronged. His hand was still pressed flat against his ear.
"Kevin! I said no doorbell!"
"Harry, a guest knocking is basic courtesy. I'm honestly disappointed."
"You did that on purpose — oh, never mind, get inside, both of you—"
He clamped both hands over his ears and waved them in.
Kevin and Hermione exchanged a glance. Before either of them could work out why Harry was clamping his ears, the question answered itself.
From every wall, every landing, every corner of the house — screaming. The portraits had all woken at once, and they were united in their displeasure. One voice above the rest: Mrs. Black's portrait, somewhere down the hall, releasing what appeared to be a continuous stream of curses at maximum possible volume, which had apparently triggered every other painting in the building.
Hermione clapped her hands over her ears.
Kevin pointed his wand down the hall and swept it in a slow arc. Pinpoint Silencing Charms, one after another, wrapping each portrait as his wand found it. The screaming cut out in sequence — first the nearest, then the mid-hall, then the landing above, then a distant room upstairs — until the house was quiet.
Complete, ringing silence.
"...Huh," said Harry.
He lowered his hands cautiously, as if the silence might be a trick.
"Is that it?" Hermione lowered hers too, half-laughing with relief. "Just — Silencing Charms on each one?"
"They come back when the bell goes," Kevin said. "So don't ring the bell."
"That's what I said," Harry muttered.
He led them down the cramped hall to the kitchen-dining room at the far end. Long wooden table, mismatched chairs, and around it: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Mad-Eye Moody, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Ginny, Ron — and two faces Kevin didn't know yet, both of them rubbing their ears.
Sirius looked up. "Kevin, I specifically told Harry to tell you—"
"He did. Hello, everyone."
Kevin pulled out a chair. "Professor Lupin, good to see you. Professor Moody, likewise." He looked at the two unfamiliar faces. "And you two must be the ones Harry mentioned — the Order's sharp end. Tonks, metamorphmagus, specialist in disguise and infiltration. Shacklebolt, senior Auror." He nodded at each of them. "I'm Kevin Croft. This is Hermione Granger. Let's take down Voldemort."
Kingsley Shacklebolt leaned toward Lupin and said, in a voice that carried perfectly, "Exactly like you described. Kid knows how to make an entrance."
Kevin looked at Lupin. "What exactly did you tell them?"
Lupin raised both hands in innocence and said nothing, which was answer enough.
Tonks was already grinning. She introduced herself and Shacklebolt properly — both Ministry Aurors, both in the Order because they trusted Dumbledore's judgment considerably more than Fudge's political instincts. Ministry employment gave them access, and access gave the Order information it couldn't get any other way.
Before the introductions finished, feet hammered on the stairs. Ron and Ginny appeared, flushed and slightly apologetic about being late.
Mrs. Weasley dispatched the children upstairs to drop their things. Ron led the way, and the kitchen relaxed into something warmer behind them.
---
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