Helena could not sleep.
She felt as if she wasn't supposed to be there, and laying on somebody else's bed in a house that wasn't hers made the feeling worse. The girl wondered why Dumbledore had bothered to send her a letter every Friday inviting her to these Order meetings when she was not allowed in them, and tonight, they had made it clear other members had the same question.
Helena had trouble figuring out the reason for being here if apparently, Dumbledore was still doubting her abilities as a Seer. She believed she had proven that her visions were real when she entered the maze in the Triwizard Tournament last school year to save Cedric from dying.
Or had that action proven otherwise since it did not happen?
She couldn't imagine another timeline where Cedric had passed away. It was too painful to think about it.
And then there was the other vision she had about Alastor Moody being trapped inside a dark room, although her vision was not clear enough to decipher who the man in her vision was. At least not in time.
The girl turned to her side to try to sleep and ended up being hit on her face by her now short hair. It had not been long since Hermione and Ginny joined her and headed to their own beds in the room they were sharing. They didn't check to see if Helena was asleep or not since she had walked straight to the room after using the Extendable Ears, leaving everyone else behind to listen to the rest of the meeting. Hermione and Ginny decided to give the seventeen-year-old some space.
Why are the others here?
Were her friends there just to clean up the place while Order members discussed important matters?
Helena decided to get up from her bed. Trying to sleep would be useless if her mind did not let her rest. The girl walked down the two flights of stairs, walking on her tiptoes to make sure not to wake up anyone, and headed for the main living room on the first floor next to the kitchen, turning on one of the small lamps next to the couch.
She picked up the latest issue of The Daily Prophet and sat down close to the source of light.
Reading through some articles, Helena understood what Hermione had said about how they ridiculed Harry whenever they could, bringing up his name in unnecessary topics. The only reason they were doing this to him was because he had said You-Know-Who had come back.
Helena had told Dumbledore that Lord Voldemort's return was true and that he had regained strength that night at the graveyard. She still remembered the darkness and emptiness she felt when locking eyes with the wizard, giving her occasional nightmares. She had seen him too and was being ignored completely. Not that she wanted the attention Harry was getting, but she thought her opinion as a second witness would have helped the boy.
It was obvious that the Ministry was discrediting what Harry had said, but why?
They're scared.
The girl put the newspaper away.
The reason why the Daily Prophet was making fun of Harry, the reason why the Order of the Phoenix was reunited once more, the reason her father kept her inside the house during the summer... Fear. And they were all handling it in their own way.
It didn't make sense to Helena how the adults were pushing them away from the subject as if they were trying to keep it a secret that Lord Voldemort had returned. And if she received an invitation for these Order meetings, then she had to be in one of those meetings... one way or another.
Before heading to bed early, Helena heard Mr. Weasley outside her room in the hallway saying he would be helping Harry out with his hearing at the Ministry of Magic. They would be trying to clear Harry's name out of any punishment for simply defending himself against a Dementor. The hearing was in two days and that only made the boy become nervous, adding up to his anxiety.
Helena quietly pushed her bedroom door open and took a step inside after, making sure Harry and Mr. Weasley were gone when a hand grasped her arm.
"What were you doing up?"
Helena shared a blunt stare at the redhead before her, feeling offended by the question.
"Am I not allowed to be up?" she snapped, closing the door to the bedroom to not wake up Hermione or Ginny. "Or am I supposed to be locked up in my room waiting for the Order the let me out?"
"Hell, calm down," Fred said with a raspy voice for he had just woken up. "I heard my dad talking and went out to check and I see you sneaking inside your room. Couldn't sleep?"
"It's nothing," said Helena dismissively, looking away from the boy.
"Are you still upset about what they said during the meeting?" the boy asked her, which surprised Helena for being right. "If you weren't supposed to be here, they would've kicked you the moment they knew you were here."
"That doesn't help," the girl said crossing her arms over her chest.
"I'm still drowsy and didn't choose the right words," the boy defended. "C'mon, let's go to the kitchen and I'll pour you a glass of milk."
"I don't like milk," Helena confessed sheepishly.
"Water then."
"I'm not thirsty."
"Cauldron cake?"
"Let's go."
The two of them entered the quiet kitchen in the Black household. Fred turned on the small fireplace that was there to help them go around the room without knocking into something, meanwhile, Helena sat at the table with a throbbing pain on the side of her head, knowing it was because she was sleep deprived and her body was letting her know.
Fred took the seat across from the girl, a glass of milk in one hand and a plate with a Cauldron Cake in the other, offering the second one to her.
"Now that we have our late-night snacks," Fred started after taking a sip of his drink, "would you tell me how you celebrated your birthday?"
"Huh?" was all that Helena could muster, having a big chunk of the dessert in her mouth. "Birmfday?"
"Yes, I am asking you about your birthday," Fred smiled at her with endearment. "I know exactly why you're upset and can't sleep, so it's no use to keep bringing up the subject and leave you restless. We'll talk about that in another time. Instead, let's talk about something else. We couldn't actually write to you that often because people would suspect if they saw an owl with a letter going back and forth, coming out of this super secret house. Owls were only for emergencies. I do apologize for that."
Helena felt her face flushed and Fred's cool and gathered attitude was the reason for it. She swallowed her snack slowly.
"It's o-okay," she muttered.
WHY AM I SO NERVOUS?
"George and I really wanted to write to you on your birthday, so I'd like to know what did the brilliant Helena Rosemund do on the day she was of age?" Fred crossed his arms over his chest and rested his elbows on the table, leaning slightly closer to the girl with curiosity.
"N-Nothing special, really," said Helena, looking up at the ceiling, trying to remember that day. "Spent all day watching muggle movies at home. Dad bought me an ice cream cake and-"
"What's an ice cream cake?" the redhead was intrigued. "Is it as delicious as it sounds?"
"Even better!" Helena chuckled. "Layers of ice cream, layers of cake. Muack!" she said giving out a kiss with her hands to describe how much she liked it. "I think I had a sugar rush after two slices."
"It's expected when you eat two slices of pure sugar, Hell," said Fred mockingly. "What else did you do?"
The two of them spent yet another night talking about everything until Helena began to doze off for seconds. She wanted to keep talking with Fred, but the boy insisted that she needed to sleep, and headed to their respective bedrooms.
Helena felt more at ease after that and easily drifted off.
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"First one of them and now there are two," a low voice muttered with disgust. "Two in the noble house of Black."
"Two of what, Kreacher?" Mrs. Weasley asked out of courtesy but concentrated on getting everything organized for dinner later that evening.
"Two of them," said the growling house elf that lived here. He turned to look at Helena and Hermione who were helping the Weasley matriarch with the final touches on the appetizers they had both prepared. "What would my dear old master say if she saw a pair of mud-"
"OI!" both Fred and George interrupted the house elf before he could finish the sentence.
"Don't even finish that sentence, Kreature," said George with a glare as he held up his wand up, carrying a pile of plates to the table with magic.
"Go make your old master company by her portrait, why won't you?" Fred said with despise.
"Kreacher does not listen to people like you. Bloodtraitors!" the house elf sneered at them.
Sirius walked into the room just in time to dismiss Kreacher from the place before he could say anything more offensive. When the house elf was out of sight, everyone began to talk amongst themselves as they sat down at the table to eat. Sirius was chatting with Harry and Mundungus Fletcher, a member of the Order in charge of getting information from wizards and witches who were on the crooked side of the law; Ron and Ginny were asking Bill questions about his new job at Gringotts, wanting to know its secrets; Lupin had stopped by as well and was complimenting Mrs. Weasley delicious dinner; Meanwhile, Mr. Weasley took the opportunity to talk with Helena and Hermione and ask about their muggle parent's jobs...
"They do have to be careful with children," Hermione explained about her parents being dentists. "They tend to bite."
"Sounds like a dangerous job. Handling people's mouths, that is, " Mr. Weasley said amused. "And all those artifacts they use. All work with electricly, right?"
"Electricity. Yes, sir," Hermione smiled, shrugging her shoulders.
"Excellent!" Mr. Weasley was very much into this conversation for he had had a long day at work at the Ministry and this was boosting up his mood again. "And Helena, I never quite caught what your father does for a living in the muggle world."
"Oh, right." The girl adjusted herself on her seat, clearing her throat. "My father is a teacher. Teaches chemistry at a university. It's sort of the muggle version of Potions."
"You don't say?" said Mr. Weasley impressed. "You don't think he'll like to prepare a muggle brew of some sort for me, do you? Something I can store in my office. Nothing explosive, of course."
"Um, sure. I'll see what he can make," Helena smiled assuringly.
Although Fred and George were talking with each other, whenever they needed something from the table that was out of reach, they would whip out their wands and summon it. Something their mother was watching very closely. It was not until they magically dragged a large cauldron of stew across the table that made their mother explode.
"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!' screamed Mrs. Weasley. "THERE WAS NO NEED... I'VE HADENOUGH OF THIS! JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW, YOU DON THAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"
"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" said Fred as he grabbed a slice of bread.
"Like five seconds?" Helena mocked at them, shaking her head.
"Hey, five seconds is a lot when you're hungry," George defended.
"And someone won't pass you the mashed potato," Fred said looking straight at her, toying with her.
"You didn't say anything to me and I can't read your mind, Frederick," Helena enunciated his name with precision, joining his game.
Mrs. Weasley pointed out how none of the older Weasley siblings had caused her trouble like the twins and was about to mention Percy's name. The room went silent. They all knew the feud involving Percy.
"Delicious dinner, mother!" Bill Weasley said out loud to change the subject in the most obvious way.
Helena was thankful he had done so, though.
After dinner, they were in a lighter mood and one or two hours passed as they exchanged conversations with each other. While Helena was talking with Hermione and Ginny, the seventeen-year-old noticed how Fred would discreetly glance at her from across the table and wink at her when she did. Helena would quietly chuckle to herself.
She had never met such a flirtatious person as Fred. It was amusing to her in a playful way.
Has he always been like this?
Helena took a sip of the butterbeer she had in hand.
"Nearly time for bed, I think," said Mrs. Weasley with a yawn. It was nighttime and they had lost track of time.
"Not just yet, Molly," said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. "Youknow, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start askingquestions about Voldemort."
If the room had gone silent when Percy's name was mentioned, this was beyond that, adding tension to the atmosphere. Helena was drawn into Mrs. Weasley's change in behavior, seeing how the woman was clearly upset that Sirius had brought up the subject. But Helena was hoping someone would mention Lord Voldemort's name in her presence to clear some issues out.
"I do have questions," Harry replied to his godfather. "Hermione and Ron told me we're not part of the Order, so..."
"And they're quite right. You're too young," said Mrs. Weasley.
"I'm not."
Helena spoke quietly.
Oh, no.
She wasn't thinking. The words just came out of her mouth, but it was something she wanted to bring up having been shunned from the meetings. But it was the wrong time to say something because now it looked like she was defying Mrs. Weasley.
"Nina, you've been seventeen for barely two weeks. And Harry is still too young to be mixed up with things like this," the woman explained.
Both Helena and Harry were in complete disagreement with that statement.
"Since when did someone have to be part of the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" asked Sirius. "They're here just like us!"
"We've talked about this, Sirius," Mrs. Weasley shot a glaring stare at the man.
"Wait a minute," began George in disbelief. "How come Harry can ask questions when you've ignored ours?"
"We're of age and we don't get to ask anything," Fred added. "If it's an age thing, Helena and us should be able to have our questions answered!"
"I want to know something," Helena said loud enough for everyone to hear, having found the courage to speak up like she wanted to regarding the subject. "I received a letter every week during the summer saying that I should attend these Order meetings. So, am I or am I not part of the Order?"
Mrs. Weasley squinted her eyes with anger and turned to look at Lupin who seemed like a deer in front of headlights.
"So, you did send her those letters, did you?"
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Whaaaaaaaat? Lupin?? yes haha
The letters had Dumbledore's handwriting, so how come the headmaster did not send them himself?? Why was Molly surprised over this?? Huh??
Answers until next time :)
Hope you liked the chapter!