the order - f.weasley

- c h a p t e r - o n e -

Voldemort was back, and no one in the Wizarding World believed it.

Almost fifteen-year-old Gemma Adeline Lupin (Hilton in public for safety reasons) sighed, hanging upside down from the spiral staircase, her legs locked in place so she wouldn't slip.

It had been four weeks since the end of the Hogwarts term, and she was miserable.

Her dad didn't let her out of the house much. Therapy sessions were rough, involving a lot of crying, yelling, and then sometimes just working through panic attacks when she and her therapist talked about something hard.

And she missed her best friend, well brother, Harry Potter.

She couldn't imagine how he was feeling back at Privet Drive, but she could imagine how enraged he would feel when he was moved there and found out that she, Ron, and Hermione had been scheming for the last month trying to get information for themselves and for Harry.

Gemma had even tried to sneak out one night to visit him one night when she was still at her actual house and had promptly been grounded, and then not even two days later, she and her dad moved into the home of Sirius Black, Harry's godfather.

12 Grimmauld Place was almost as depressing as the potions classroom at Hogwarts.

That, and the portraits were rude, and so was the house-elf, Kreacher.

She tried her best to be kind to him, but every once in a while, her inner lioness would erupt, and her dad or Ginny or Hermione, or someone would have to drag her away and calm her down. She wasn't one to lose her patience so quickly like that, but something about him rubbed her wrong, which made it exceptionally easier to be upset with him.

So, in other words, when Kreacher was around, she steered clear of him and went and hid in Sirius's vast library for a few hours. In her about two weeks in 12 Grimmauld Place, she had spent the majority of her time there, reading and researching and studying and writing and hanging out with her best friends, who had also moved in a few days after her, making the dark house easier to bear. But Gemma still had had too much time on her hands one day (Mrs. Weasley had taken the kids out, plus Hermione, and Gemma's dad wanted her to stay home, ugh) and had traced Sirius's lineage way back when learning some interesting things about his honestly mad family.

Some of it made her skin crawl, and she couldn't help but wonder how such an exceptional man had come from such an awful family.

Sirius had become another father figure to her in a way.

Especially with her own father out doing business for Dumbledore.

The two had been stuck in the house a good bit together alone, so they would use the muggle tv she had convinced him to buy to watch shows and movies. They would bake, paint nails, and sometimes would even gossip like teenage girls.

Which sometimes, Sirius acted as such much to the teenage girls who lived in the houses' amusement.

"It's your mum's fault. She was the only girl in our group and brought her feminine flair to our gross boy band," He said one day as he professionally painted her fingernails on her right hand (right-handed problems) while everyone was out, and she was once more stuck at home. "She influenced us in a way. James could braid hair. Peter could match any colour palette, and it would look exceptional. I could do make-up. And Remus...well, your dad could do all of that and more." He snickered. "But, he wanted to impress your mum, so he did everything he could to do that...and the product was you."

He would randomly tell her stories like that, and it made her heart clench with sorrow and joy. She wanted to know more.

Her dad still was weird with her when she asked about her mum, but he was slowly opening up in some ways. But, after the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, completely blew off the fact that Voldemort was back and ready to seek his revenge (she was told all of this afterward because she had been drugged during it), he had become overly protective.