• Serena Black •

"No matter how fast light travels,
it finds the darkness
has always got there first,
and is waiting for it."

The following week was slow, because nothing interesting seemed to happen. Serena didn't quite know whether she should find this reassuring or rather deadly boring. The only distraction she got was several rounds of exploding snap, tidying, cleaning and trying to bribe her father to join the Order. But he, like the other adults, remained stubborn.

Bill Weasley had now also arrived at the run-down house and turned his back on the big wide world for the time being. From conversations, the Gryffindor had heard that he was probably trying to get a desk job in the Ministry so that he could also be of use to the Order locally. But the Weasley was not the only member of the Order of the Phoenix who came and went.

"What are you doing here?", Fred and George had cried out loudly when Snape had suddenly pushed his way past them. Serena couldn't believe her eyes either and at first had thought Tonks was playing a bad joke with her abilities.

"Believe me, I find it just as unfortunate to be here as you do," the Potions teacher had replied in his lazy voice, and had then disappeared straight into the dining room to one of the many secret meetings, his cloak billowing.

She had scowled after him and Hermione could try to convince her that he was on her side no matter how many times. In Serena's eyes, he remained a spineless bastard.

"I never liked him either," Bill announced one morning during breakfast, after the twins had had another discussion about why Snape was allowed to be in the Order and not them.

"How are things going with your job?", Mrs. Weasley finally changed the subject and placed another plate of pancakes on the table. Her round face was still adorned with a few red marks from the previous conversation with Fred and George, but her loud thunder seemed to have subsided now.

"I'm currently helping Fleur improve her English, she has a job at Gringotts now," the eldest Weasley reported, casually tapping his breakfast egg. George, on the other hand, looked up with a raised eyebrow and hitched with a meaningful grin, "Fleur? You mean..."

"Yes, Fleur Delacour," Bill confirmed without looking up, but if Serena wasn't mistaken, his cheeks were also turning a little pink, like his mother's had earlier. The twins exchanged knowing glances with each other before Mrs. Weasley interrupted their silent conversation, "Fred, George can you please help me clear the table? The Order is about to have a meeting."

Serena, who had already finished eating, stealthily stole out of the room. In her opinion, she had worked hard enough in the last few days, so the two redheads, who looked alike, could do a job on their own. Because before, they had mostly delayed it with some kind of joke rather than actually helping. She was hardly out of the door when she heard Mrs. Weasley scream: "NO, YOU SHOULD CARRY THIS!

A cursory glance over her shoulder told Serena that a large heavy iron jug was floating straight towards the kitchen and a chopping board and knife were flying past Remus and Tonks' heads. Distracted by their mother's shouting, the twins seemed to lose control of the spell. The jug landed on the snow-white tablecloth with its jet-black coffee-like contents and the sharp knife slid off the cutting board. Point first, it finally got stuck in the dark wood of the table where Serena's father's hand had rested seconds before.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" the mother of seven shrieked as her roundish face once again took on a deeply unhealthy colour. "THAT'S ENOUGH! JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW, DOESN'T MEAN YOU SHOULD FOR EVERY LITTLE THING! OFF TO YOUR ROOMS WITH YOU!"

"We were just trying to save some time," Fred defended himself guiltily, trying to pull the bread knife out of the tabletop. "Sorry Sirius..." he muttered as the sharp blade had penetrated so deeply into the wood that it didn't move an inch. The twin already had his wand to hand again to solve this problem, too, when his mother threw another spanner in the works.

"Off to your rooms!" she hissed once more and began to wipe the breakfast table with a dripping rag. She applied so much pressure with her hand that several puddles were left on the wood, while she muttered hysterically to herself: "None of your brothers have ever caused such trouble..."

Eyes wide and indeed a little ashamed, the two twins fled from the kitchen and the rest of the youths immediately followed.

"I'd love to know what they're discussing today," Ginny grumbled, stomping listlessly up the stairs so that it creaked loudly with each step. Serena, who was walking right behind her, silently agreed with her and merely saw George grinning meaningfully in the corner of her eye. "We could remedy that."

"Do you really want to risk that?" echoed Ron with a doubtful expression. "Don't you have enough trouble with Mum already?"

"Oh...", Fred merely waved it off with a cursory wave of his hand. "So far we've never been caught." Before Hermione, Ron, Ginny or Serena could object, however, the twins had apparated to their room and reappeared a few seconds later with a plop.

Serena was startled every time, which Fred and George found incredibly funny, of course, and had thus made fun of randomly appearing next to her for the last few days.

"What do you hear?" asked Ginny eagerly as George was about to lower the Extendable Ears down the banister on the string. "Wait... Dumbledore just got here," he muttered and now began to hand out the other copies to the youngsters. Serena noticed that instead of putting the string in her ear, Hermione was chewing nervously on her lower lip. She couldn't blame her, because even though they hadn't been caught yet, she knew that Mrs. Weasley was quite touchy lately and would hardly approve of such a thing.

"What does he want?" whined Ginny, sharing a string with George and trying in vain to push him aside.

"Well dear little sister, do you really think it's good manners to push your older brother around like that?" he retorted merely smirking and pretending to be deeply offended. The redhead then poked him harder in the ribs and pulled the cord out of his ear so that she could hear herself.

"Our little girl is growing up," George gasped in pain, wiping a fake tear from his face.

"If only we had the same effect on this one," Fred interjected dreamily, pointing at Ron who was glaring at him. Serena, meanwhile, tried to tune out the bickering between Fred and Ron and concentrate on what was going on at the other end of the ear.

"....Mr Fletcher, you will be on guard duty in Little Winging today...," Dumbledore just announced.

Hermione and Serena exchanged glances as they seemed to be the only ones listening. "Little Winging?" Hermione breathed, "That's where Harry lives!"

"What about Harry?" now echoed Ron, whose attention turned back to what was happening on the ground floor at the mention of his best friend's name.

"Oh damn!" cried Ginny suddenly as the string was magically pulled from her ear and sailed down over the banister. Fred and George blanched at the same time, as if they were already suspecting the worst, before with a plop they moved out of the way of the situation.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY, COME DOWN HERE AT ONCE!"

"Come with me," Ginny hissed hurriedly to the others, who didn't even know what hit them. "She doesn't know we're involved too."

"I KNOW YOU OTHERS ARE UP THERE, too!" her mother yelled in response at the top of her lungs, as if she had heard her words clearly. The youngest Weasley cursed.

"HERMOINE, SERENA, RON COME DOWN!" she shouted again, finally causing Ginny to give them a pitying, yet at the same time triumphant look and sprint to her room.

Ron looked as if he would rather go anywhere at that moment than to his mother. The remaining three exchanged ominous glances before Hermione finally took the lead and had to drag the redhead down the stairs by his sleeve to get him to move at all. "Let's get this over with."

Contrary to their expectations, however, it was not Mrs. Weasley who was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. With open mouths, they stared at the man and were equally embarrassed. "Professor Dumbledore, we didn't know you were here," Ron tried a pathetic lie.

The Hogwarts Headmaster's blue eyes flashed with amusement, as if no one could fool him. "If you three will follow me, I'd like to have a few words with you about Harry."

Concerned glances were exchanged between the youngsters and as if from the same mouth they asked the obvious question in the room, "What about him?"

A mere smile spread on the old man's thin lips before he led them into a completely dusty room. This room had obviously not been on the cleaning schedule and had probably served as a kind of reception room in its best days. "I am correct in assuming that you have heard something from Mr Potter recently, am I wrong?" Dumbledore finally asked the group.

Uncertainly, the three exchanged a glance and probably didn't know whether they should actually come out with the truth. Ron cleared his throat cautiously and continued, "I-I got an owl from him yesterday."

"You didn't tell me that!" blurted Hermione, giving the redhead a reproachful look, which he was all too happy to return. "You don't tell me about every single letter you get."

Serena merely raised an eyebrow and had to stifle a grin, while the headmaster reminded the two quarrelling students with a loud clearing of the throat that this was probably not the setting in which such a thing should be discussed.

"Excuse me, sir," Hermione murmured hurriedly, lowering her head, which had turned dark red with embarrassment. She was visibly uncomfortable with the way she had gone off the deep end in front of the Headmaster. The latter, however, did not seem to resent her in the least. "I hope he's doing well in his current situation, even if he's probably not too enthusiastic about it..." he inquired, almost piercing the three with his piercing gaze.

"I think he's still pretty shaken up about what happened last month," Serena replied, thinking about Harry's last letter she had received last week. It didn't say anything special, just that his cousin had been a bit of an idiot again, that he read the Daily Prophet and didn't believe that anything at all had happened in the last few weeks.

Lost in thought, the old man nodded and stroked his long white beard. "I take it that the three of you have followed my instructions and said nothing regarding the activities going on in this house? I'm sure Molly has informed you all of this."

"Yes, sir," Hermione replied. "I know we have to be careful as owls are often intercepted. But is there perhaps another way to get information to Harry? He knows we're spending the summer together and he must feel awful not being able to be there."

"I understand your concern," the Headmaster replied, eyeing her urgently once more. "And yet I must ask you in no way to tell Harry about the Order or this house. At least for the time being."

Betrayed, the three teenagers agreed, wanting nothing more than to tell Harry what they were doing over the holidays. Serena could hardly imagine how excluded her bespectacled friend must feel and hoped that he would arrive soon so that they would not have to keep up this secrecy.

"Thank you." Dumbledore retrieved a pocket watch from his cloak and smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid it's time for me to go. Molly tells me that you are all doing a great job of making this house a suitable headquarters for the Order. Well, I hope you still enjoy your holidays to the fullest." He winked amusedly at them in farewell before leaving them alone in the dusty room.

"I wish there was something we could do for him," Ron muttered as soon as the door had fallen in the lock again, sullenly kicking a few woolly mice across the sparsely lit room.

"Me too," Hermione sighed and began to think aloud. "Maybe he'd feel better if we sent him something? Maybe a present or something?"

"How about chocolate?" mused Serena, thinking of Remus, who had shown them more than once that chocolate actually helped against quite a few problems. Or at least made them seem not so bad.

"Chocolate from Honey Dukes!" the Weasley corrected, eyes shining, and hurriedly ran out the door. Over his shoulder he called out to them, "I'll send Pig with the order in a minute!"

After lunch it was time to revive the cleaning of the house so that it would be a lot more habitable. Fred and George had actually managed to hide a few specimens of the Extendable Ears before their mother could destroy them all. As punishment, their task was to thoroughly scrub every bathroom in the house, including the toilets.

Serena, meanwhile, armed with a feather duster, went through the rooms in the basement. She had dressed herself in the oldest clothes she had brought with her. A good decision, as it turned out, because already after dusting the salon she could knock a thick layer of dust off her dark trousers, which made her cough.

The next room she had to worry about was the one next to the room where they had spoken to Dumbledore. It appeared to be some sort of former office, with long red curtains in front of the windows and a dark wood desk. Serena started at a huge bookshelf, which contained books she had never heard of in her life and was sure they would only be found in the forbidden section at Hogwarts. If at all.

Curious now, she walked towards the large desk, which still had numerous sheets of parchment on it. The writing on them was so small and cramped that Serena could barely decipher individual words. The dust alone and the fact that the parchment was already beginning to crumble suggested that it had not been used for a long time. The chair creaked as she tried to sit down, so she decided it was better to remain standing.

Completely gripped by curiosity, Serena put the duster aside for the moment and began to open the drawers with a pounding heart. The first one was closed, the second one was empty and as she was about to open the third one, footsteps suddenly approached. A croaking voice finally startled her, "It is forbidden to open Master Black's desk."

Her head wheeled around and she looked into a dull, sickly pair of eyes of what appeared to be an ancient house elf, who eyed her thoroughly. "Strange girl, a mudblood for sure. The whole house is full of mudbloods. Sniffing around here..." he muttered more to himself than to the Gryffindor he was talking about.

"I-I'm Serena," she stammered, caught off guard, for she had never noticed the miserable creature in the house before. "Serena Black and you are?" she finally tried a pitiful attempt at conversation. But even she wanted to know what the house elf was all about. After all, no one had told her that one lived in this house and the run-down mansion didn't look like it either.

"Black?" he repeated barking, before his huge eyes scrutinised her critically. "Pale skin, dark hair, fine features. Yes, a Black indeed. Can only be Master Regulus's daughter. Master Regulus always treated Kreacher too well too."

Serena's jaw dropped and at first she didn't know what to say. "So you're Kreacher," she repeated, surprised not to have bumped into him earlier in the house. "Pleased to meet you, but Regulus is not my father but my uncle."

Kreacher stared at her with wide disbelieving eyes. "Kind-hearted, just like Master Regulus."

"My father is..."

"That traitor would never have such a fine daughter," she was interrupted by the house elf, who now seemed to be completely lost in thought. "But Master Regulus had no wife, or he never introduced her to Kreacher... but why? Perhaps Kreacher has angered Master Regulus..."

Serena rolled her eyes and wrestled with herself to try and correct him one more time. Finally, she decided against it and instead tried to ignore the house elf's eerie mutterings as she turned to the third drawer once more.

At first glance, she saw only an empty roll of parchment and a dried inkpot. She was almost about to close the drawer again when suddenly a small casket caught her eye. It was beautifully decorated and had probably once been noble, but now the silver was tarnished and the colour had peeled off in some places.

Curious as Serena was, she wanted to open the box to see what its contents were and reached out for it. Before she could react, however, the tin had beaten her to it. It had grabbed her finger and sunk its teeth deep into her hand. In pain, the Gryffindor had to prevent a scream by clenching her teeth tightly as hot blood ran down her arm.

"Surely Miss should know that Master Black has enchanted his tobacco tin," Kreacher said merely reproachfully.

"Help me, please," she whimpered, and indeed the house-elf was about to take a step towards her when the door was suddenly pushed open and Serena abruptly wondered if a scream had escaped her.

"Kreacher! What have you done to her?" a deep troubled voice asked, and through a blur of tears Serena could make out her father about to chase the house-elf away. "Get away!"

"Nothing, he was just trying to help," she managed to say through clenched teeth, but Kreacher was already shuffling docilely out the door, continuing to mutter to himself.

"What happened?" he finally asked when the old elf was gone, staring at his daughter's bloody hand, still clutching the can.

"The can snatched at my hand," she reported in a trembling voice, hoping that despite the dark magic, the object could be easily removed from her skin.

"My father must have enchanted the tin," Sirius cursed, ruffling his dark hair before tapping his wand lightly on the lid of the tin after a moment's thought. Serena held her breath and exhaled in relief as it opened in response and fell crashing to the floor. "Thank you," she sighed, "I had no way of knowing that thing was about to bite my hand off."

"Just about everything in this house is enchanted, black magic items are everywhere," her father explained with a sombre expression. "I was glad when I got out of here and was actually convinced I would never have to return."

After Serena's hand had been treated with diptam essence, the wound, which fortunately wasn't too deep, almost didn't hurt at all and she was able to join the others who were already sitting at the set table for dinner.

"What happened?" asked Hermione immediately with wide eyes fixed on her injured hand. "That looks painful!"

"Looks like Rina put up a valiant fight with a doxy," George interjected mockingly, to which Serena merely rolled her eyes and heaved a large piece of lasagne onto her plate - which she felt she had more than earned - and muttered. "It's no big deal, really."

"I'm sure the doxy didn't stand a chance against you," the twin merely quipped further, before the others also began to eat the delicious smelling Italian dish and no one noticed how Serena's cheeks turned a rosy shade.

As the evening progressed, Mr. Weasley also rejoined them, but with an expression on his face that did not bode well. Instead of sitting down with his wife as usual, he merely stood at the doorway, completely exhausted, and looked around.

"What's up, Dad?" Fred asked cautiously, because he too seemed to have noticed that something was wrong.

"I'm afraid there's some disturbing news, Sirius," his father replied, at which point the whole room fell silent and a glum mood settled over the table like a respite. "The Ministry has taken out a warrant for arresting you. Fudge has convinced the jury that you helped the Death Eaters break out of Azkaban. He's having you arrested without a hearing."

"What? Without a hearing? He wants to make the same mistake again?", the person concerned visibly angered by this injustice.

Serena and the others present were not happy about this decision either. "But they can't do that!" she groaned.

Mr. Weasley shrugged helplessly and pulled a pained face. "I suppose you'll have to go into hiding for a while before things settle down." He placed the latest edition of the Daily Prophet on the table and pointed to the page, which showed another shout-out for Sirius Black.

Silently, the latter studied the article, shaking his head repeatedly in disbelief, something his daughter couldn't blame him for. He was stuck in his parents' house, in the place he least wanted to be. No telling what would happen if they caught him. They might send him back to Azkaban, again for something he hadn't done. Mr Weasley was right, the Ministry was going mad.

"There's also a death notice," he then suddenly muttered, causing more than a few at the table to look up. There had been more frequent obituaries lately, but the quavering voice in which he had spoken made them all fear that it was someone they knew. Remus finally spoke the question that had been in the room aloud. "Who is it?"

"Camille Hall."