The Summer of the Phoenix

Chapter 25

As it turned out, to Sirius's slight relief, Fred and George had not Disapparated from the house after all. But they had Disapparated to their room on the third floor, where they shut themselves in for the rest of the afternoon, "discussing business" as they told a very annoyed Ron who, looking for company, found himself outside a locked door.

Hermione had asked Sirius if he'd have a look at the books in the study with her, to make sure they were safe to read. They ended up spending half the afternoon there in quiet but amicable company, flicking through ancient books, sorting the useful from the boring and the safe from the possibly dangerous.

"This looks interesting, but it won't open," Hermione said, handing Sirius a book with a mouldy black leather cover.

"Curiosity killed the cat," said Sirius, and threw it into a corner.

"Oh, Sirius," Hermione sighed. "How can you throw away books like that? It hurts my heart. It's almost like killing a living being. Books have a soul, you know."

"Black souls, some of them," Sirius shrugged. "Some of these might hurt you more if you read them, Hermione."

His mind was on other things. What had gone wrong with the spell that was supposed to protect the house? Leave the slightest gap in your line, and the whole house will remain open for Apparation, Dumbledore had said. Had anyone actually tried Apparating into it since? Dumbledore had wanted to try, but he had been interrupted. Sirius found himself scanning the contents pages of several spellbooks, looking for anything that had to do with Apparation. He didn't want to unnerve Hermione by sharing his worries, but maybe one of the books in his father's library held the answer to his question.

"Sirius?"

He looked up from Past and Present Magical Transportation and found Hermione sitting on the sofa and looking at him over the edge of a heavy volume of a magical encyclopaedia.

"Yes?"

"You have tried to take her down, haven't you?"

There was no need to ask what she was talking about. "Yes."

"Is it a Permanent Sticking charm?"

"Yes."

Hermione lowered her eyes again with a thoughtful "hmm" and resumed her reading, frowning slightly. Then she put the volume on the table in front of her, and came to join Sirius again to look through some more shelves.

A little while later, Sirius was no wiser about Apparation-proofing than before, there was a knock on the door, and Ginny appeared, carrying Crookshanks in her arms.

"He's getting really restless in the bedroom, Hermione," she reported. "Can't we just give him the run of the house, Sirius? He's a very clean cat, and he won't break anything, we promise."

"Except maybe one or two more of my ribs," Sirius grinned. "No, go ahead. No problem. He can catch a rat or two for Buckbeak if he wants to make himself useful."

Crookshanks looked at Sirius with his big, gleaming eyes, and blinked as if he'd understood.

"Do you really think it's safe?" Hermione asked in a concerned tone. She came over to scratch Crookshanks behind the ears.

"Sure. There's nothing in the house bigger than him except us and Buckbeak, and anything smaller he can deal with."

Hermione gave Sirius the slightest of frowns, but he pretended not to notice. Ginny and the cat left, and they returned to their books. By the time Mrs Weasley called them for tea, the pile of books and parchments to be disposed of had grown considerably, even though Hermione had insisted that Sirius only throw out books that had completely fallen apart, or that he deemed dangerous, rather than just uninteresting or bad.

"I don't find history boring at all," she said reproachfully as she rescued La France Magique au 17ième Siècle from the heap of doomed books.

"But you don't read French, do you?" Sirius asked.

"Not really." Hermione blushed. "But maybe I'll learn it properly one day. Let's keep this one, please." She put it back in its place on the shelf and went to pick up the little stack she had assembled on the table. "Can I take these to my room for a while?" she asked. "Just for a bit of - study?"

Sirius thought he could guess what she'd be looking for. He briefly considered telling her that it wouldn't work anyway, but then remembered that he himself had occasionally managed to prove a recognised authority wrong in his Transfiguration homework. He smiled at Hermione, laden with her spellbooks, and wished her luck.

"All right then," he said, looking around. "We'll leave the rest here and tell Kreacher to throw it out. I'm not sure if some of these are even safe to burn. So where's that dratted elf?"

Kreacher, it turned out, was not far.

"Sirius," Ron complained when they emerged from the study, "the elf is in my room!" He was standing on the landing outside the open door to his bedroom. There was an angry hiss from inside, and a frightened wail. "And Crookshanks won't let him out!"

They came to look, and found that Ron was right. Kreacher was at the far end of the room by the wall under the window, cowering low, his spindly arms raised protectively over his head. Crookshanks had cornered him, ready to jump, hissing and baring small pointed teeth at the terrified elf.

"Crookshanks, no!" Hermione exclaimed, and rushed inside. She picked up her cat by the scruff of its neck and carried it resolutely from room. Crookshanks was fighting madly to get back to the ground. "You don't attack innocent house-elves," she chided him. "He hasn't done anything to you! It was very wrong of you, very wrong."

"If you restrict that to innocent house-elves, Hermione, Crookshanks is quite right," Sirius said coolly. "He's got a nose for who's to be trusted and who isn't. Remember Scabbers?"

"The filthy Mudblood," muttered Kreacher's small voice behind them. "She pretends to be nice to Kreacher, to help Kreacher, but she's just as bad as the rest, the dirty little - "

Ron banged the door shut on him.

They were all getting more and more nervous as the hour of the Order's meeting drew near. Mrs Weasley was in a supremely bad mood. There was no discussion about the washing up after tea - she was far too keen to get her children out of the kitchen before anyone from the Order arrived.

"I want you to go upstairs straight away, and stay there," she instructed them when they had finished their tea. "Don't get in anyone's way while the meeting goes on. Don't talk to anyone, and make no noise." She glared at her twins. "I want you all in bed by ten, and no arguing. Your father will come and look in on you when he's got the time. Now off you go."

Sirius was slightly surprised that the young Weasleys accepted this without protest. The twins in particular looked like they were about to burst with curiosity, but they just exchanged a look, and obediently led the way out of the kitchen, Ron, Hermione and Ginny following in their wake.

* * *

It was hardly half an hour later when the doorbell announced the first visitor. Mrs Weasley was still clearing the kitchen for the meeting, and Sirius had only just come back from the first floor, where he had locked Kreacher into a bathroom as he had threatened he would.

"Don't bother, I'll go," he said when Mrs Weasley winced at the sound of Mrs Black's portrait awaking noisily in the hall. He was getting used to it - one hard wrench at the curtains would do the trick if his mother wasn't in a particularly nasty mood. The person outside did not have to wait long before Sirius opened the door.

"Am I too early?" Hestia Jones asked and blushed furiously even before Sirius could greet her. She was standing on the doorstep, her frizzy black hair framing a rosy-cheeked face with rather wide eyes, looking positively terrified at the prospect of finding herself alone in the house with him. Sirius decided that smiling at her would only make it worse.

"You're the first to call, if that's what you meant," he said politely. "But Molly Weasley's here, too. Come in. You know the way."

He had hardly closed the door behind her when the bell started ringing again. Hestia was just passing the curtains when they flew open and Mrs Black resumed her screaming with full force. Hestia jumped and let out a frightened little shriek.

"Go on," Sirius shouted, and gestured towards the far end of the hall, "I'll take care of her!" He wasn't sure if she'd understood the words, but she took their meaning. She nodded with relief and hastened down the hall to the kitchen stairs, leaving him to deal with the racket. But Sirius didn't bother to silence the portrait before he opened the door again. Whoever it was this time that hadn't remembered not to ring the bell was going to help him with that, and never forget about it again.

Standing on the doorstep outside was someone who, Sirius was immediately sure, had not forgotten about it at all.

"I'm extremely sorry," said Severus Snape over the infernal noise, not looking sorry in the least.

Sirius felt a lot like closing the door again right in his face. "Are you?" he said curtly. "Come in and help me shut her up then." He turned his back on his visitor and marched down the hall. Snape followed, but made no move to come to his aid. He just looked at the screaming Mrs Black with mild interest while Sirius struggled with the curtains. Sirius gave him a dirty look, and at the third attempt managed to cover the portrait, drowning her abusive shrieks in dusty velvet.

"Well, well," Snape said softly into the sudden silence. "What a disappointment you must have been."

Sirius briefly considered giving Snape a black eye, there and then. "I notice she hasn't got anything to say about you," he replied icily. "But I wouldn't consider that a compliment, Snape."

"You've got an interesting concept of what makes a compliment, Black," Snape said smoothly. "I shouldn't think that abomination of my flesh was - "

"Good evening," Mrs Weasley's voice suddenly came from the back of the hall, and for a moment, Sirius was almost sure he had heard something like the smallest sound of several pairs of feet hastily scuttling away over their heads. "If you will come downstairs, Professor Snape, we're quite ready for the meeting," Mrs Weasley said briskly, coming forward to meet them. "Sirius, if you could just give me a hand with a few more chairs - " She walked over to the unused living room with the boarded up windows, which had come to serve as something like a storage room, and held the door open, looking at him expectantly.

Sirius swept past Snape without another word, and Snape shrugged and disappeared through the door to the basement.