Black Roses

"Hey!" Fred Weasley laughed, rubbing the bite mark on his left shoulder. "What did you do that for?"

Phaith McCoy rolled off him, grinning broadly and replied, "'Cause the sun's coming up and you were still asleep."

"As long as you had a reason." He rolled out of Phaith's large four-poster bed, and pulled on his too short trousers. "I'd best be off, Mum'll go batty if I'm not home soon."

Phaith sat up, pulling the near translucent sheet around her bare shoulders as she did so. "Use the floo powder. Twyla and Frank will have a duck if they see you."

"A duck?" Fred scanned the area surrounding the fireplace, still glowing from the night before. "I don't see any."

"Damn." Phaith had gotten out of bed, and was now fully dressed in her last year's school skirt, and a weird sisters concert tee shirt. "I must be out. I'll go get some. She ducked through the door, where she was met by her father who was padding down the hall, holding an empty coffee cup.

"Phaith," he nodded, continuing on. Phaith glared. She went into their enormous storage closet, and dug out a fresh tin of floo powder.

Stepping into her room, she found Fred peering into the fire intently. She began to ask what he was staring at, but with a gasp, fell silent. Staring back at her was the face of her uncle, Sirius Black.

"Well," Sirius laughed, "I see you're finally getting some." Fred spluttered indignantly, and Phaith blushed crimson.

"Why exactly is it that you're in my fireplace?"

"Well" he said slowly, "Fred, your mum's hysterical looking for you. And Phaith, your mum has agreed to let you come stay for the summer."

"How do you know?"

"Got an owl this morning." Phaith squealed girlishly, and a small jig while packing with wide sweeps of her wand. In minutes, she was fully packed, and not without much hurrying from Fred, they were off.

. . .

Phaith fell out of the hearth, and stared happily around the dimly lit sitting room of Grimmauld Place. A very angry Mrs. Weasley was fussing over Fred in the corner, and she was heaved into a hug by Harry, who had grown at least an inch in the two weeks since their sixth year at Hogwarts had ended.

"How are you?" He seemed genuinely concerned at her welfare, which mildly surprised her.

"I'm good. How are you?" Recently, he and Hermione Granger had had a terrible fight, which had ended their long time relationship.

"Fine." He reddened slightly, but was saved further discussion by the appearance of a very gangly Ron Weasley, who gently clipped her shoulder.

"Ron!" She hugged him, standing on her tiptoes in order to reach his shoulders. "Are you all staying here too?"

"Yeah, but just while they remodel our top floor. The ghoul has wrecked it." With Mr. Weasley's recent raise, the usually rather short on money family could finally afford to fix up the Burrow.

"Cool," she glanced around the room, breathing in its familiar scent. "Where is Sirius?" She was led in to the grand kitchen, where Sirius was quietly conversing with Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of hogwarts.

"Phaith McCoy." He was grinning.

"Professor Dumbledore!" After a formal handshake, her attention was directed to Sirius, who was laughing.

"How's Fred holding up?"

"He's fine." She hugged him, noticing how thin he was. "What have, or should I say haven't, they been feeding you?"

"Is all your school stuff here?" He was clearly changing the subject, but Phaith wasn't going to pursue that just then.

"Yes. I'm famished, any idea when dinner will be?"

"Around an hour."

"Okay." Mrs. Weasley stormed in. and started to say something to Sirius, but noticed Phaith.

"Hello Phaith dear, how are you?"

"Good." Harry walked in and loudly offered to help her move her things into her room, his face slightly drawn in and pale.

After the door was firmly shut behind her, Phaith anxiously asked what was wrong. "Hermione's here."