a/n: hey guys! so i've been sick since wednesday and HARRY POTTER WEEKEND HAS STARTED AND UGH I JUST COULDNT RESIST POSTING OKAY??? also, another long ass chapter!
published 2/04/17.
"Don't you go feeling guilty!" said Hermione sternly, which kind of shocked Darcy.
They were cleaning off mold from a cupboard on the third floor—where Darcy's room was on. Harry had just confided about leaving Sirius. Darcy full-on agreed, feeling neglected when her father would not speak to her sometimes.
"That's a bit harsh, Hermione," said Ron, frowning as he attempted to prize off a bit of mold that had attached itself firmly to his finger, "you wouldn't want to be stuck inside this house without company."
"He'll have company!" said Hermione. "It's headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix, isn't it? He just got his hopes up that Harry would be coming to live here with him."
"C'mon, Hermione," said Darcy blankly. "That's not the same. What friends has he got in the order that haven't...gone..."
"I don't think that's true," said Harry to Hermione, wringing out his cloth. "He wouldn't give me a straight answer when I asked him if I could."
"He just didn't want to get his own hopes up even more," said Hermione wisely. "And he probably felt a bit guilty himself, because I think a part of him was really hoping you'd be expelled. Then you'd both be outcasts together."
"Come of it!" Harry and Ron said together, leaving Darcy, yet again, thinking about her father.
He had asked Harry, instead of her, to stay. It was a bitter thought, something that made Darcy's stomach twist with anger. But, she didn't get nearly get expelled from Hogwarts...and being this angry about a situation she wasn't in felt rather gross.
. . .
Living inside a murky house that Sirius and Ophelia Black seemed really appealing at first. Though, that changed when it also became the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Darcy would catch a glance at few Order members, and some would stay for meals. Three that really struck out to Darcy was Jani Scamander, Phille Fleamont, and Amelia Dean. The youngest, Jani and Phille, would stay for dinner—but it was only the middle-aged woman, Amelia, who only stayed for barely a minute before shuffling her way out.
"Odd woman," whispered Ron. "Fred and George have been trying to catch a glance at her, but she always disapparates. Her fastest time was forty-eight seconds until she left."
"You guys are weird," said Darcy, nudging Ron to move on forward with his pile of laundry. "Just let the woman be."
On the last day of the summer break, it was a calm day for Darcy. She sent out her letters previous days before, feeling almost relieved to do anything she pleased. She stopped by Harry and Ron's bedroom. (Darcy wanted to thank Harry for letter her borrow Hedwig to send out her letters as well).
The two were cleaning off Hedwig's droppings when Ron entered the room—not before staring a while—and held out a couple of envelopes.
"Booklists have arrived," he said, throwing one of the envelopes up to Harry, who was standing on a chair and handing the other to Darcy. "About time, I thought they'd forgotten, they usually come much earlier than this. . ."
Letting Harry read his letter first, Darcy when on to throw the droppings into a trash bag and threw them over Ron's head and into a trashcan. Ron threw her a "really" face and Darcy shrugged nonchalantly as she sat on the dress drawer.
"Only two new ones," he said, reading the list. "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk and Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard."
Crack.
Fred and George Apparated right beside Harry. He was so used to them doing this by now that he didn't even fall off his chair.
"We were just wondering who assigned the Slinkhard book," said Fred conversationally.
"Because it means Dumbledore's found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," said George.
"And about time too," said Fred.
"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, jumping down beside them.
"Well, we overheard Mum and Dad talking on the Extendable Ears a few weeks back," Fred told Harry, "and from what they were saying, Dumbledore was having real trouble finding anyone to do the job this year."
"Not surprising, is it, when you look at what's happened to the last four?" said George.
"One sacked, one dead, one's memory removed, and one locked in a trunk for nine months," said Harry, counting them off on his fingers. "Yeah, I see what you mean."
Darcy frowned. "Why's there only one Defense teacher every year? I would've thought that Moody could've stayed..."
She said this quietly and absent in mind while opening up her school book lists as well. The first thing she noticed was a green and white badge fall into her hands. About to say something, she looked up to see Ron being surrounded by the twins.
"Prefect?" Fred said, staring incredulously at the letter. "Prefect?"
George leapt forward, seized the envelope in Ron's other hand, and turned it upside down. Darcy saw the same badge except with scarlet and gold fall into George's palm.
"No way," said George in a hushed voice.
"There's been a mistake," said Fred, snatching the letter out of Ron's grasp and holding it up to the light as though checking for a watermark. "No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect. . ."
The twins' heads turned in unison and both of them stared at Harry.
"We thought you were a cert!" said Fred in a tone that suggested Harry had tricked them in some way.
"We thought Dumbledore was bound to pick you!" said George indignantly.
"Winning the Triwizard and everything!" said Fred.
"I suppose all the mad stuff must've counted against him," said George to Fred.
Darcy jumped off the drawer she sat at and stared sternly at the twins.
"You guys are very negative," she commented to the twins. "Maybe Dumbledore thought Harry just needed a break from all the crazy bat shit that's been happening—plus, Ron isn't that bad."
Fred and George both looked at Darcy with odd glances.
"What's up with you?" Fred said, his eyes peeking towards the letter she had hidden under her armpit. "And that you're hiding?"
Before Darcy could shift away, there was the crack that came from behind her and she already felt the letter and badge get nicked away.
"It's another Prefect!" shouted George, although mostly in sheer giddy. "Darce is a Prefect!"
"Shut up, George," said Darcy, making attempts to snatch her letter back. "Can I please have it back?"
"Well, since you asked nicely," he chirped, handing the letter back. "Wow...Slytherin prefect—can you believe that?"
The door banged open. Hermione came tearing into the room, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. There was an envelope in her hand.
"Did you — did you get — ?"
She spotted the badge in Harry's hand and let out a shriek. "I knew it!" she said excitedly, brandishing her letter. "Me too, Harry, me too!"
"No," said Harry quickly, pushing the badge back into Ron's hand. "It's Ron, not me."
"It — what?"
"Ron's prefect, not Harry," Darcy said.
"Ron?" said Hermione, her jaw dropping. "But . . . are you sure? I mean —"
She turned red as Ron looked around at her with a defiant expression on his face.
"It's my name on the letter," he said.
"I . . ." said Hermione, looking thoroughly bewildered. "I . . . well . . . wow! Well done, Ron! That's really —"
"Unexpected," said George, nodding.
"No," said Hermione, blushing harder than ever, "no, it's not . . . Ron's done loads of . . . he's really . . ."
"Funny!" Darcy added, grimacing.
Fred snickered. "And then we've got our lonely Slytherin here, who's now a prefect as well."
Hermione, thankful that the topic chaged, turned her excited eyes to Darcy.
"Oh, magnificent!" she squealed and ran over to hug Darcy. "You truly deserve it—you're smart, very—"
The door behind her opened a little wider and Mrs. Weasley backed into the room carrying a pile of freshly laundered robes.
"Ginny said the booklists had come at last," she said, glancing around at all the envelopes as she made her way over to the bed and started sorting the robes into two piles. "If you give them to me I'll take them over to Diagon Alley this afternoon and get your books while you're packing. Ron, I'll have to get you more pajamas, these are at least six inches too short, I can't believe how fast you're growing . . . what color would you like?"
"Get him red and gold to match his badge," said George, smirking.
"Match his what?" said Mrs. Weasley absently, rolling up a pair of maroon socks and placing them on Ron's pile.
"His badge," said Fred, with the air of getting the worst over quickly. "His lovely shiny new prefect's badge."
Fred's words took a moment to penetrate Mrs. Weasley's preoccupation about pajamas.
"His . . . but . . . Ron, you're not. . . ?"
Ron held up his badge.
Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek just like Hermione's. "I don't believe it! I don't believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That's everyone in the family!"
"What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?" said George indignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung her arms around her youngest son.
"Wait until your father hears! Ron, I'm so proud of you, what wonderful news, you could end up Head Boy just like Bill and Percy, it's the first step! Oh, what a thing to happen in the middle of all this worry, I'm just thrilled, oh Ronnie —"
Fred and George were both making loud retching noises behind her back but Mrs. Weasley did not notice; arms tight around Ron's neck, she was kissing him all over his face, which had turned a brighter scarlet than his badge.
"Mum . . . don't . . . Mum, get a grip. . . ." he muttered, trying to push her away. She let go of him and said breathlessly,
"Well, what will it be? We gave Percy an owl, but you've already got one, of course."
"W-what do you mean?" said Ron, looking as though he did not dare believe his ears.
"You've got to have a reward for this!" said Mrs. Weasley fondly. "How about a nice new set of dress robes?"
"We've already bought him some," said Fred sourly, who looked as though he sincerely regretted this generosity.
"Or a new cauldron, Charlie's old one's rusting through, or a new rat, you always liked Scabbers —"
"Mum," said Ron hopefully, "can I have a new broom?"
Mrs. Weasley's face fell slightly; broomsticks were expensive.
"Not a really good one!" Ron hastened to add. "Just — just a new one for a change . . ."
Mrs. Weasley hesitated, then smiled.
"Of course, you can. . . Well, I'd better get going if I've got a broom to buy too. I'll see you all later. . . . Little Ronnie, a prefect! And don't forget to pack your trunks. . . . A prefect . . . Oh, I'm all of a dither!"
She gave Ron yet another kiss on the cheek, sniffed loudly, and bustled from the room.
Fred and George exchanged looks.
"You don't mind if we don't kiss you, do you, Ron?" said Fred in a falsely anxious voice.
"We could curtsy, if you like," said George.
"Oh, shut up," said Ron, scowling at them.
"Or what?" said Fred, an evil grin spreading across his face. "Going to put us in detention?"
"Well," said Darcy almost crossly, "he could."
"I'd love to see him try," sniggered George.
"He could if you don't watch out!" said Hermione angrily, at which Fred and George burst out laughing and Ron muttered, "Drop it, Hermione."
"We're going to have to watch our step, George," said Fred, pretending to tremble, "with these two—to make it worse, three on our case. . ."
"Yeah, it looks like our law-breaking days are finally over," said George, shaking his head. And with another loud crack, the twins Disapparated.
"Those two!" said Hermione furiously, staring up at the ceiling, through which they could now hear Fred and George roaring with laughter in the room upstairs. "Don't pay any attention to them, Ron, they're only jealous!"
"I don't think they are," said Ron doubtfully, also looking up at the ceiling. "They've always said only prats become prefects. . . Still," he added on a happier note, "they've never had new brooms! I wish I could go with Mum and choose. . . She'll never be able to afford a Nimbus, but there's the new Cleansweep out, that'd be great. . . Yeah, I think I'll go and tell her I like the Cleansweep, just so she knows. . ."
He dashed from the room, leaving Darcy, Harry, and Hermione alone.
"Yeah, Ron," cheered Darcy, "take pride in the badge—you get stuff!" though, her attempt to lighten the mood on Harry didn't work. He turned to his bed and picked up his clean, Gryffindor robes.
"Harry?" said Hermione tentatively.
"Well done," said Harry, so heartily it did not sound like his voice at all, and still not looking at the two girls. "Brilliant. Prefect. Great."
Darcy didn't bother answering, but nervously crossed her arms over her chest.
"Thanks," said Hermione. "Erm — Harry — could I borrow Hedwig so I can tell Mum and Dad? They'll be really pleased — I mean, prefect is something they can understand —"
"Yeah, no problem," said Harry, still in the horrible hearty voice that did not belong to him. "Take her!"
After which, Hermione and Darcy both took it as their ticket to leave.
. . .
Just half an hour before dinner, Darcy had lifted her green and white badge to her sight in her nearly empty room she occupied. Her books were all in her room and now packed inside her even bigger school case. Though, she had no idea what to do with her Prefect's badge. In the end, Darcy decided that she would stuff into her Slytherin robe pocket.
At six in the evening, Mrs. Weasley came back with several books and a long package wrapped in thick brown paper.
From behind Darcy, there was a heavy hand that was on her shoulder. Sirius loomed over her with a proud smile.
"Mrs. Weasley organized a little party down in the basement," he said. "Ophelia's coming in a little while, though."
Down in the basement Mrs. Weasley had hung a banner over the heavily laden dinner table, which read CONGRATULATIONS DARCY, RON, AND HERMIONE — NEW PREFECTS. Darcy's name was outlined with white and Ron and Hermione's was outlined with red.
Darcy grimaced at the poster, staring up at Sirius.
"I feel like I'm gate-crashing a Gryffindor party," she said.
Sirius let out a barking laugh, which made Darcy laugh a little to.
"You've got that right," he said. "Molly originally had it all scarlet, but then it was Ron who told her that you were a prefect as well."
Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were already there and Mad-Eye Moody stumped in shortly after Harry entered and got himself a butterbeer.
"Oh, Alastor, I am glad you're here," said Mrs. Weasley brightly, as Mad-Eye shrugged off his traveling cloak. "We've been wanting to ask you for ages — could you have a look in the writing desk in the drawing room and tell us what's inside it? We haven't wanted to open it just in case it's something really nasty."
"No problem, Molly . . ." Moody's electric-blue eye swiveled upward and stared fixedly through the ceiling of the kitchen. "Drawing room . . ." he growled, as the pupil contracted. "Desk in the corner? Yeah, I see it. . . . Yeah, it's a boggart. . . . Want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly?"
"No, no, I'll do it myself later," beamed Mrs. Weasley. "You have your drink. We're having a little bit of a celebration, actually. . . ." She gestured at the banner. "Fourth prefect in the family!" she said fondly, ruffling Ron's hair.
"Prefect, eh?" growled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and his magical eye swiveling around to gaze into the side of his head.
"Well, congratulations," said Moody, still glaring at Ron with his normal eye, "authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn't have appointed you. . . ."
Then, he turned over to Darcy, who was seated next to Ron and Harry.
"And I bet with your legilimency that Dumbledore trusted you to peek into some heads, right?"
A little startled, Darcy said, "Oh—um, I don't really know? I think that's against the rules..."
No longer after, there was the arrival of Ron's father and oldest brother—no Charlie, to Darcy's dismay—and Ophelia, who kissed Darcy on the cheek as she made her way towards the seat next to Lupin.
"Well, I think a toast is in order," said Mr. Weasley, when everyone had a drink. "To Darcy—the new Slytherin prefect. Ron and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!" Ron and Hermione beamed as everyone drank to them and then applauded compared to Darcy's fake smile.
"I was never a prefect myself," said Tonks brightly from behind Harry as everybody moved toward the table to help themselves to food. Her hair was tomato-red and waist length today; she looked like Ginny's older sister. Darcy tuned her ears to listen as well. "My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities."
"Like what?" said Ginny, who was choosing a baked potato.
"Like the ability to behave myself," said Tonks.
Ginny and Darcy laughed; Hermione looked as though she did not know whether to smile or not and compromised by taking an extra-large gulp of butterbeer and choking on it.
"What about you, Dad?" Darcy asked, her voice light with a laugh when she saw Ginny patting Hermione's back.
Sirius, who was right beside Harry, let out his usual bark-like laugh. "No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Remus and Philly were the good kids, they got the badge."
"I think Dumbledore might have hoped that I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends," said Lupin. "I need scarcely say that I failed dismally."
"I couldn't really help," said Ophelia with a shrug. "Too busy with my 'teenage' life." She snorted and took another sip of fire-whisky.
Everyone had their little conversations on the dinner table. Darcy overheard a little bit of Fred and George's business with Mundungus and quickly got out if. There was Ron talking about his Cleansweep, Hermione and her elf restriction, and Mrs. Weasley and Bill's controversial topic about the latter's hair.
When Mrs. Weasley was done fawning over Bill's hair, she had excused herself to attend to the boggart. From Darcy's near sight, she caught Harry setting his plate down and turned her body around to speak to him.
Instead, Darcy had met eyes with both Harry and Moody. Her heart gave a little lurched, not expecting his appearance now. Just when she was going to turn back to the conversation between Ron and Tonks, Moody had said:
"You lot, I've got something that might interest you..."
Harry glanced at Darcy expectantly. She gave a apprehensive shrug.
Moody had pulled out a very old Wizarding photograph.
"Original Order of the Phoenix," growled Moody. "Found it last night when I was looking for my spare Invisibility Cloak, seeing as Podmore hasn't had the manners to return my best one. . . Thought people might like to see it."
Harry took the photo. Darcy scooted closer to him and peered over his shoulder. There was a small crowd of people, some of them were waving at the two, and others were lifting drinks to Harry.
"There's me," said Moody, pointing at himself. The Moody in the picture was unmistakable, though his hair was slightly less gray and his nose was intact. "And there's Dumbledore beside me, Dedalus Diggle on the other side . . . That's Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family. That's Frank and Alice Longbottom —"
There was a sinking feeling in Darcy's stomach as she took in the image of the Longbottoms. It was Alice Longbottom, the very similar face of Neville, that made her heart speed faster in fear.
"Poor devils," growled Moody. "Better dead than what happened to them . . . and that's Emmeline Vance, you've met her, and that there's Lupin, obviously . . . next to him is Zenaida Dean, she helped Hagrid, died the day before your parents—saw her twin, Amelia, earlier today I bet, with that odd house elf..."
Darcy stared at the happy smile of Zenaida Dean, her skin the color of chocolate and eyes as light as hazelnut. She was very young, and happy as she kept close distance with Lupin, his hair not stricken with white. But, the sister they saw earlier that day was much too old, and looked like she'd seen too much.
"...Benjy Fenwick, he copped it too, we only ever found bits of him . . . shift aside there," he added, poking the picture, and the little photographic people edged sideways, so that those who were partially obscured could move to the front.
"That's Edgar Bones . . . brother of Amelia Bones, they got him and his family too, he was a great wizard . . . Sturgis Podmore, blimey, he looks young . . . Caradoc Dearborn, vanished six months after this, we never found his body . . . Hagrid, of course, looks exactly the same as ever . . . Elphias Doge, you've met him, I'd forgotten he used to wear that stupid hat . . . Gideon Prewett, it took five Death Eaters to kill him and his brother Fabian, they fought like heroes . . . budge along, budge along . . ."
The little people in the photograph jostled among themselves, and those hidden right at the back appeared at the forefront of the picture.
"That's Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, only time I ever met him, strange bloke . . . That's Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally . . . Sirius, when he still had short hair . . . and . . . there you go, thought that would interest you!"
The blank expression of Harry was nothing but a façade. Darcy felt the tipping of his heart somehow, feeling the heavy weight as he saw Wormtail beside his parents.
"Eh?" said Moody. Harry looked up to Moody's heavily scarred and pitted face. Evidently Moody was under the impression he had just given Harry a bit of a treat.
"Yeah," said Harry, attempting to grin again, which made Darcy grimace. "Er . . . listen, I've just remembered, I haven't packed my . . ."
He left before he could finish and Sirius walked up to Moody and Darcy.
"What's that you've got there, Mad-Eye?" he'd said.
Moody turned towards him, eyeing both Darcy and Sirius.
"And old photo of the Original Order," he grunted, shoving out the picture to Sirius.
Sirius glazed his eyes over the picture, then to Darcy. "Well," he said, "too bad Philly wasn't in this photo. You know, she had an assortment of different colored hair."
"What's this about hair?" called out Ophelia, her body closely snugged by Lupin.
Realizing that his gift was given, Moody made his way back to the kitchen and left Sirius, Darcy, Ophelia, and Lupin.
"Oh," said Darcy, as she sat down across the two. "Sirius said you had an assortment of colored hair."
Ophelia loosely smiled. "Yeah, I had a lot—mostly by emotions. Like, if I was embarrassed, my hair would tint to the reds—or happy, my hair would range from yellow to a pinkish orange."
Tonks whistled from down the table. "Should've stayed with pink, auntie!" she said with a wink and twirling a long strand of red hair that turned pink. "It suits you."
Laughing, Ophelia's hair shifted to a faded peach, catching the attention of Lupin, as he too twirled her hair.
"Tonks is right," he commented. "It does suit you."
Sirius, although being uncharacteristically quiet, smiled at Lupin and Ophelia while still holding the old Order's photo in his hands.
"Did you ever have any pictures of mom?" said Darcy unexpectedly, her hands nervously clamped together.
"What's that?" he said absently, looking away from his sister and best friend.
"Are there any pictures of mom that you have? Like those Wizarding ones?"
Sirius stared at his daughter, like he was seeing her as a different person.
"Anything that I had of Anna would be somewhere in Gringotts, I bet," he said. "That's what the ministry would've done when they outed me to Azkaban..."
Darcy stared at him, from the way his eyes would divert and to the stiff hand. She should be grateful with what she knew about Anna-Marie. She shouldn't push too much if it caused this distress to her father, but who could help the curiosity that burned in a teenager who never met her mother? The bitterness, knowing that Sirius would prefer to be around Harry than with his own daughter?
Before Darcy could reply, there was a deathly scream from above that sounded much like Mrs. Weasley.