"Your — ?"
"My dear old mum, yeah," said Sirius. "We've been trying to get her down for a month but we think she put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of the canvas. Let's get downstairs, quick, before they all wake up again."
"But what's a portrait of your mother doing here?" Harry asked, bewildered, as we went through the door from the hall.
"Obviously they lived here Harry. How thick are you?" I asked him.
"Hasn't anyone told you? Well like (Y/n) pointed out this was my parents' house," said Sirius. "But I'm the last Black left, so it's mine now. I offered it to Dumbledore for headquarters — about the only useful thing I've been able to do."
We followed Sirius to the bottom of the stairs and through a door leading into the basement kitchen.
It was scarcely less gloomy than the hall above, a cavernous room with rough stone walls. Most of the light was coming from a large fire at the far end of the room. A haze of pipe smoke hung in the air like battle fumes, through which loomed the menacing shapes of heavy iron pots and pans hanging from the dark ceiling.
Many chairs had been crammed into the room for the meeting and a long wooden table stood in the middle of the room, littered with rolls of parchment, goblets, empty wine bottles, and a heap of what appeared to be rags.
Arthur and Bill, were talking quietly with their heads together at the end of the table. Molly cleared her throat. Her husband, a thin, balding, red-haired man, who wore horn-rimmed glasses, looked around and jumped to his feet.
"Harry!" Arthur said, hurrying forward to greet him and shaking his hand vigorously. "Good to see you! Ah and (Y/n) I'm glad you're back safely."
I just grunted bitterly in response, turning to Bill. "How're you holding up being stuck in England Bill?" I asked him.
Bill, who still wore his long hair in a ponytail, hastily rolling up the lengths of parchment left on the table. "Eh it could be worse (Y/n), there are perks of staying here. Journey all right, Harry?" Bill added, trying to gather up twelve scrolls at once. "Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, then?"
"He tried," said Tonks, striding over to help Bill and immediately sending a candle toppling onto the last piece of parchment. "Oh no — sorry —"
She's utterly useless isn't she.
"I happen to thing she quite fun in all honesty." I thought to Tom.
That can be your opinion, but you can't deny she's only slightly more useful than a braindead troll.
"I guess I can't fully deny that." I thought back.
"Here, dear," said Molly, sounding exasperated, and she repaired the parchment with a wave of her wand. She then snatched the plan off the table and stuffed it into Bill's heavily laden arms.
"This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings," she snapped before sweeping off toward an ancient dresser from which she started unloading dinner plates.
Bill took out his wand, muttered "Evanesco!" and the scrolls vanished.
"Sit down, Harry," said Sirius. "You've met Mundungus, haven't you?"
The thing I had taken to be a particular dirty pile of rags gave a prolonged, grunting snore and then jerked awake.
"Some'n say m' name?" Mundungus mumbled sleepily. "I 'gree with Sirius. . . ."
Never mind I think I found someone more useless that Tonks.
He raised a very grubby hand in the air as though voting, his droopy, bloodshot eyes unfocused. Ginny giggled.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
The Weasley of Slytherin: The Order of the Phoenix
Fanfic(Y/n) "Weasley" having learned about his biological father and more about the mysterious Edgar enters his fifth year of Hogwarts only to be greeted with more chaos
