My family had been constantly strained and stressed since I got home for the summer, especially my father. I knew it was partly because he was worried Potter could tell the whole world he was at the graveyard the night of the third Triwizard Tournament task, and our life could fall apart around us.
I also knew that Potter would never say that for my sake, knowing it would affect me as much as the rest of my family, and so he kept quiet. Ever since Dumbledore had told the whole school that the Dark Lord was back and was the reason Cedric Diggory was dead, much talk had began to go around.
The Prophet was posting daily news articles on Dumbledore and Potter, and they weren't positive. It was obvious the Ministry was trying to deny the fact. Or, more specifically, Fudge was trying to deny the fact, which was impossible. The Dark Lord had to come out into the light eventually, and then the Ministry would look like a bunch of old fools.
But until then, the Prophet was turning Potter into an attention-seeking joke, and Dumbledore into and old man stupid enough to believe him. Some parents were even presenting the idea of not letting their kids go back to Hogwarts this year, which was preposterous. Hogwarts was one of the safest places in the wizarding world right now.
The other thing that had been bothering me was that the only correspondences I had gotten from any of my friends since the beginning of June were from Potter. Hermione and Weasley were completely ignoring me, and when I asked Potter in one of my letters if they were doing the same to him, he confirmed it.
I had also just gotten my letter from Dumbledore a week ago, telling me that I should expect a few people to come take me to a home certainly safer than this one. I hadn't the faintest idea how these "few people" were going to get into Malfoy Manor in the first place, and then if they managed to, how they were going to get me out.
I was sure my father had all sorts of security spells and alarms put in place that would ruin this mysterious plan completely. Still, I was over-excited and over-anxious all day. The other thing that Dumbledore had been vague on was whether or not Draco was coming with me when I left.
I wasn't even sure if I wanted him too. I think I did, but I also wasn't blind to the fact that Draco was beginning to regretfully lean towards my father's opinions on the Dark Lord more than mine. I realized that this unfortunately meant the chances of whoever was saving me from this silent torture of a house taking Draco with us were extremely slim.
That night at dinner I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I didn't realize the little things I was doing, like wringing my hands together mindlessly and tapping my foot on the floor. Finally, father looked up at me with angry eyes.
"Alexandra, stop fidgeting. And stop tapping your foot. It's driving me insane," he broke the silence of the meal.
"Sorry father," I said tonelessly, stabbing at my meat but never bringing it to my lips.
He hummed in disapproval and continued eating. I was so tightly strung that I jumped when Draco's hand appeared suddenly, reaching past me to grab the salt.
"Alexandra, whatever is wrong with you tonight?" Mother asked sharply.
"Nothing, mother," I smiled politely, and forced a piece of broccoli into my mouth to prove my point. My throat was so dry that I winced as I swallowed.
After an hour of sitting in the drawing room with my parents, Draco and I reading quietly, mother sent us up to bed. I was about to change into my nightgown when a chill went through the house. I was suddenly so tired that I collapsed onto my bed without changing, my eyes drooping instantly.
It seemed only seconds that I was in a deep, dreamless sleep before I was being shaken awake forcefully. I blinked open my eyes slowly, and then scrambled up into a sitting position when I saw an unfamiliar woman with bright pink hair leaning over me.
I reached for my wand on my bedside table, but stopped when I scanned the room. I recognized a couple of the faces in here, even if I had no idea who the woman who woke me was. I saw Professor Moody, the real one this time I assumed, Remus, who was smiling at me, and... Potter.
Potter was in my bedroom.
I put a hand to my heart and slowed my breathing. "Someone could have knocked," was the first thing I said.
"No time to be polite when we're trying to get you out of here without getting killed," Moody growled.
"Right, sorry," I said, like this was completely normal, getting out of my bed and stuffing my wand in my pant pocket.
"Now, this is Kingsley Shacklebolt, Elphias Doge, Emmeline Vance, and Nymphadora Tonks," Moody introduced everyone, and they all waved in turn.
"Don't call me Nymphadora," Nymphadora replied irritatedly, her hair turning red as she did so. I stared at her with wide eyes. Then she looked at me and said, much nicer, "Just call me Tonks." I nodded hesitantly.
"You already know Remus and Potter, so let's finish with the pleasentries and get a move on," Moody declared, hitting his walking stick on the ground.
As we followed him out, I looked to Remus for answers to the many questions I had. "How did you get past the enchantments my father put around the house?" I asked first, because it was the one I was the most concerned with.
"Alastor was an Auror for a long time," Remus answered. "He has his ways."
"And what happened to my parents? They're still in the house, aren't they?"
"Yes, they're still in the house," he assured me. "The reason you fell asleep so suddenly was because Alastor put a very powerful Sleeping Spell over the entire house. It will lift by the morning."
"And..." I began, hesitant to ask the question, because I figured I already knew the answer. "Is Draco coming with us?"
Remus's eyes softened. "No," he answered softly, and my heart dropped. "Dumbledore didn't see it fit, so we weren't instructed to take him with us. I'm sorry."
I waved my hand and said, "It's fine," but really my head hurt and I just wanted to go back to bed. I didn't even care who's bed it was or what house I was in.
When we finally got outside, Potter had only just taken his eyes off of me. Remus noticed and grinned, looking straight forward determinedly. Moody stamped his walking stick on the ground for a second time, and a broom for every person appeared in their hands. I noticed that mine was one of Draco's old ones.
"Where are we going?" I asked Potter, but Tonks overheard me.
"Don't worry," she said. "We'll explain everything at headquarters." Headquarters? Headquarters of what?
"Stay in formation, everyone," Moody commanded. "Don't break ranks if one of us is killed." Someone was in a cheery mood tonight.
We all shot into the air, and I was glad that I had secretly forced Draco to teach me a bit of flying. Obviously when Potter tried to help me in third year I didn't learn much. We quickly made our way into London, flying steadily over the River Thames.
There was a huge boat with gorgeous lights sailing by as we continued under the bridge. Potter sent a grin to me before we parted around the front, gliding through the air on opposite sides of the ship until we accelerated into the sky again.
When we landed right in front of an apartment building that wrapped around the street, I was slapped in the face with the sudden feeling of recognition. "I've been here before..." I muttered.
"I'm sure you have," Remus agreed. "This used to be your great aunt's house. On your mother's side. The Blacks."
"Sirius lived here?" Potter exclaimed.
Remus nodded, but said no more on the matter. He only stepped forward and waved his wand in an extremely complicated motion. The building began to shift. Slowly, another door appeared, along with more windows and another small balcony. A whole new part of the building had just formed.
"Well, in you two go," Moody said sternly. Potter and I looked at each other in disbelief before stepping forward, pushing open the front door cautiously.
We were met with a long, dark hallway. Only dimly-lit oil lamps were attached to the walls, and the drab paint was peeling in most areas. Picture frames hung on the walls as well, but they were either empty or the images were too dark to make out. Indistinct voices could be heard from the end of the seemingly endless hall.
Moody pushed past us, and we were flattened against the wall as as everyone walked by. Tonks winked at Potter as she passed, and then tripped over a coat rack on her way into the room. Inside, I could see many people gathered around one large kitchen table. Sirius noticed us first, ceasing the conversation hurriedly, and smiled when he saw Potter.
"Harry! Alexandra!" Mrs. Weasley blocked our view, stepping into the hallway and closing the door.
"Mrs. Weasley," we both said at the same time, and then colored. I didn't think we would ever stop doing that.
Mrs. Weasley beamed. "Thank Heavens you're both alright!" She exclaimed, hugging both of us before leading us to the stairs. "I'm afraid dinner will have to wait until the meeting's finished. No time to explain. Go upstairs, first door on the left." And then she entered the kitchen again, leaving us alone.
"Well, that was informational," I commented, beginning up the stairs. Potter laughed a little and followed me. As we reached the first landing, I heard a creaky voice mumbling.
"Mudbloods and werewolves, traitors and thieves. If my poor mistress knew the scum they've let into her house. What would she say to old Kreacher? Oh, the shame." Once we got close enough to the voice, I realized it was an extremely aged house elf talking to himself. He glared at us as we continued up, and then went back to shining a rusty golden plate on the wall.
I opened the door Mrs. Weasley had instructed us to, and I was greeted with a hug that nearly knocked me off my feet. "Oh, Alexandra!" Hermione exclaimed. She pulled us both inside and hugged Potter as well.
"Are you both alright?" She asked, pushing us down onto a bed. "We heard them talking about the dementor attack, Harry, you must tell us everything."
"Dementor attack?" I asked in bewilderment.
"Let them breathe, Hermione," Weasley said, but I could tell he was happy she was doing all the interrogating.
"And the hearing at the Ministry," she continued hastily.
"Hearing at the Ministry?" I asked again. "When was I going to learn about this?"
"It's just outrageous," Hermione was saying. "I've looked it up, they simply can't expel you. It's completely unfair."
"Yeah," Potter said, and I could hear how annoyed he was in his voice. "There's been a lot of that going around at the moment. So, what is this place?"
"It's headquarters," Weasley answered.
"Of Order of the Phoenix," Hermione finished for him. "It's a secret society. Dumbledore formed it back when they first fought Voldemort."
"You couldn't have put this in a letter, I suppose?" Potter asked. I knew what was coming. "I've gone all summer without a scrap of news, and so has Alexandra." He gestured to me on the bed, and I looked down, beginning to play with a corner of a pillow.
"We wanted to write, mate. Really, we did," Weasley said. "Only..."
"Only what?" Potter invited him to continue sharply.
"Only Dumbledore made us swear not to tell you anything," Hermione cut in desperately.
"Dumbledore said that?" Potter asked, face falling. "But why would he want to keep me in the dark? I mean, maybe I could help." His voice steadily began to rise. "After all, I'm the one who saw Voldemort return. I'm the one who fought him, I'm the one who saw Cedric Diggory get killed."
I snapped my head up. The room went quiet. Then there was a crack, followed by Fred and George appearing, both with a hand on one of Potter's shoulders. He stumbled back in shock.
"Harry!" Fred greeted.
"Thought we heard your dulcet tones," George said.
"Don't bottle it up, mate, let it out," Fred advised optimistically. Potter rubbed the back of his neck.
"Now, if you're done shouting..." George began.
"Do you want to hear something a little more interesting?" Fred finished.
They both led us out to the upstairs hallway, where we leaned over the railing. Fred took an extremely realistic looking ear out of his pocket and unrolled the string attached to it, slowly letting it down until it was at the level of the closed door. On the other end of the string, the end that Fred was still holding, there was a tiny yellow cone where the sound came out of.
"If anyone has the right to know, it's Harry," Sirius was saying. "If it wasn't for Harry, we wouldn't even know Voldemort was back. He's not a child, Molly."
"He's not an adult, either!" Mrs. Weasley replied. "He's not James, Sirius."
"He's not your son," Sirius said quietly.
"He's as good as," she argued. "Who else has he got?" Ginny joined us, listening in.
"He's got me," Sirius responded fiercely.
Snape's voice was next. "How touchingly paternal, Black. Perhaps Potter will grow up to be a felon, just like his godfather."
"You stay out of this, Snivelus," Sirius shot back.
"Snape's part of the Order?" Potter asked, surprised. "Git," Weasley confirmed, nodding.
Suddenly Crookshanks jumped off a stair and clawed at the hanging ear. He meowed as he bit at it, eventually ripping it off the string and padding away happily.
"Bad Crookshanks," Hermione hissed as the cat slunk back to the pantry.
"Your bloody cat," George grumbled.
"Hermione, I hate your cat," Weasley announced the already well-known fact.
"We'll be eating down in the kitchen," Mrs. Weasley said as we came down the stairs. Just as she spoke, the twin Apparated on either side of her. She yelled out in fright. "Oh! Just because you two are allowed to use magic now doesn't mean you need to whip your wands out for everything!"
Mr. Weasley came up and put an arm around his wife's shoulders. "You alright Harry?" He asked. "You gave us quite a turn."
"Harry Potter," Sirius's voice came from behind Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They broke away to allow him to be seen at the doorframe.
"Sirius," Potter smiled, embracing him.
When we all settled in the kitchen and Mrs. Weasley had brought the food out, the conversation started out lively. I laughed with Potter and Weasley and caught up on everything happening in the Order with Hermione and Ginny. Tonks was turning her nose into a pigs snout, and Moody stood in the corner, watching.
Then the talk turned to Potter's hearing.
"It's very, very peculiar," Mr. Weasley began. "It seems your hearing at the Ministry is to be held before the entire Wizengamont."
"I don't understand, what has the Ministry of Magic got against me?" Potter asked defensively.
Mr. Weasley looked down at his plate. "Show him," he said.
"He'll find out soon enough," Moody replied. The whole room sort of went silent. Tonk's nose returned from being a duck's beak. Kingsley Shacklebolt handed Potter a newspaper, which he read quickly. I leaned over. The headline read "The Boy Who Lies" in big block letters.
"They've been attacking Dumbledore as well," Sirius said slowly. "Fudge is using all his power, including his influence in the Daily Prophet, to smear anyone who claims the Dark Lord has returned."
"Why?" Potter questioned angrily.
"The Minister thinks Dumbledore's after his job," Remus answered.
"But that's insane, no one in their right mind-" Potter started.
"Exactly the point, Fudge isn't in his right mind," Remus stopped him. "He's been twisted and warped by fear. Now, fear makes people do terrible things, Harry. The last time Voldemort gained power he almost destroyed everything we hold most dear. Now he has returned, and I'm afraid the Minister will do almost anything to avoid facing that terrifying truth."
"We think Voldemort wants to build up his army again," Sirius added. "Fourteen years ago he had huge numbers at his hands, and not just witches and wizards, but all manner of dark creatures."
Even Mrs. Weasley stopped cutting the dessert pie.
"He's been recruiting heavily, and we've been attempting to do the same," Sirius continued. "But gathering followers isn't the only thing he's interested in."
Moody cleared his throat from the corner.
"We believe..." Sirius seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. "Voldemort may be after something."
"Sirius," Moody spoke up now.
A pause. "Something he didn't have last time," he concluded.
"You mean, like, a weapon?" Potter asked. Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but Mrs. Weasley cut him off.
"No," she declared. "That's enough. He's just a boy!" She came over and took back the newspaper. "You say much more and you might as well induct him into the Order straight away."
"Good," Potter said. "I want to join. If Voldemort's raising an army then I want to fight." Sirius sat back in his chair, looking proud.