"So I'm spying on my classmates Yeah," I say to Remus and Sirius, "thats one thing but my boyfriend?"

    "His father," Sirius corrects as I feed Buckbeak.

   "Lucius was a death eater, and per Harry's words still is a death eater. You can not get personal with this," Remus says.

   "Yes sir," I nod. I wipe my hands off and look to the two men. "I'll look at the Malfoys. But I want you to know that I'm asking Draco about stuff first."

  "Not flat out right?" Sirius asks.

  "I'm not stupid," I groan, "I'm going to help the other kids." They nod and wave me out. I hurry down to the bottom floor and to the drawing room. Inside were hundreds of Doxies. "Oh jeez." Molly looks at me and hands me a shirt to tie over my mouth and nose. I do so and she hands me the doxycide. 

"It's Doxycide," Molly says, "I've never seen an infestation this bad—what that house-elf's been doing for the last ten years—"

"Kreacher's really old, he probably couldn't manage—" Hermione starts.

"You'd be surprised what Kreacher can manage when he wants to, Hermione," Sirius says, "Y/n and I have just been feeding Buckbeak, I keep him upstairs in my mother's bedroom. Anyway... this writing desk..." He drops the back and moves to the locked shaking cabinet. "Well, Molly, I'm pretty sure this is a boggart, but perhaps we ought to let Mad-Eye have a shifty at it before we let it out—knowing my mother it could be something much worse."

"Right you are, Sirius," Molly says. A loud bell rings and the screeching starts again.

"I keep telling them not to ring the doorbell!" Sirius says exasperatedly, hurrying out of the room. We hear him and his mothers yelling as he leaves. I lift up my leg and kick the door shut. Much to Harry's dismay.

"Right, you lot, you need to be careful, because doxies bite and their teeth are poisonous. I've got a bottle of antidote here, but I'd rather nobody needed it. When I say the word, start spraying immediately," Molly says,  "They'll come flying out at us, I expect, but it says on the sprays one good squirt will paralyze them. When they're immobilized, just throw them in this bucket. All right—squirt!" I spray the flying creatures and start to toss them into the buckets.

  "Fred, what are you doing?" Molly asks sharply "Spray that at once and throw it away!" I look to my left to see Fred holding a struggling doxy between his fingers.

"Right-o," Fred say brightly, spraying the doxy quickly in the face so that it fainted, but the moment Molly turned around he shoves it in his pocket with a wink.

"Merlin's sake," I sigh.

"We want to experiment with doxy venom for our Skiving Snack-boxes," George whispers to Harry and I.

"What are Skiving Snackboxes?" Harry asks.

"Range of sweets to make you ill," George whispers, "Not seriously ill, mind, just ill enough to get you out of a class when you feel like it. Fred and I have been developing them this summer. They're double-ended, color-coded chews. If you eat the orange half of the Puking Pastilles, you throw up. Moment you've been rushed out of the lesson for the hospital wing, you swallow the purple half—"

"'—which restores you to full fitness, enabling you to pursue the leisure activity of your own choice during an hour that would otherwise have been devoted to unprofitable boredom.' That's what we're putting in the adverts, anyway," whispers Fred as I hand him a few of the stray doxys. "But they still need a bit of work. At the moment our testers are having a bit of trouble stopping puking long enough to swallow the purple end."

"Testers?"

"Us," Fred says, "We take it in turns. George did the Fainting Fancies—we both tried the Nosebleed Nougat—"

"Mum thought we'd been dueling," George says, "Y/n tries the less grueling ones."

"I support this," I tell them, "your products are genius."

"Joke shop still on, then?" Harry mutters pretending to be adjusting the nozzle on his spray.

"Well, we haven't had a chance to get premises yet," Fred says as I spray a couple more of the pests, "so we're running it as a mail-order service at the moment. We put advertisements in the Daily Prophet last week."

"All thanks to you, mate," George says, "But don't worry... Mum hasn't got a clue. She won't read the Daily Prophet anymore, 'cause of it telling lies about you and Dumbledore." I smirk to the boys and as I motion over to Hermione and Ron whispering.

"Love birds," I groan. Most of the morning was spent spraying the flying pest. So at midday when finally we all slumped on the ground Molly finally said something I wanted to hear.

""I think we'll tackle those after lunch," She says pointing to the cabniets as I lay on Fred's lap as he and his twin eye the Doxy eggs. "Stay here, I'll bring up some sandwiches." Fred and I who were underneath the window move slightly so he can look out it while I can still lay down, while the others rush over. I didn't care. I assumed it was one of the many order members doing something they didn't double check with someone else. Meaning more fighting.

"Mundungus!" Hermione says, "What's he brought all those cauldrons for?"

"Probably looking for a safe place to keep them," Harry says, "Isn't that what he was doing the night he was supposed to be tailing me? Picking up dodgy cauldrons?"

"Yeah, you're right!" Fred says, " Blimey, Mum won't like that..." Fred motions for me to move then he and George move to the door.

"Mundungus is talking to Sirius and Kingsley," Fred mutters, "Can't hear properly... d'you reckon we can risk the Extendable Ears?"

"Might be worth it," George says, "I could sneak upstairs and get a pair—"

"WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!" Molly yells

"I love hearing Mum shouting at someone else," Fred says as the noises mix again. Molly and the portrait. "It makes such a nice change."

"—COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN'T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS INTO THE HOUSE—"

"The idiots are letting her get into her stride," George says, shaking his head. "You've got to head her off early, otherwise she builds up a head of steam and goes on for hours. And she's been dying to have a go at Mundungus ever since he sneaked off when he was supposed to be following you, Harry—and there goes Sirius's mum again—" All of the voices merge into this unholy bickering that made me want to shove my head in the oven. Before Fred can push the door closed Kreacher slides through the door.

"Smells like a drain and a criminal to boot, but she's no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my Mistress's house, oh my poor Mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do..." Kreacher mumbles.

"Hello, Kreacher," Fred says very loudly, closing the door with a snap. Kreacher stops muttering and look up.

"Kreacher did not see Young Master," he says turning around and bowing to Fred. Still facing the carpet, he adds, perfectly audibly, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."

"Sorry?" George asks, "Didn't catch that last bit."

"Kreacher said nothing," Kreacher says, with a second bow to George, "and there's its twin, unnatural little beasts they are."

"...and there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry, and there's the bossy girl blood traitor, and a new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name, what is he doing here, Kreacher doesn't know..."

"This is Harry, Kreacher," Hermione says tentatively. "Harry Potter."

"The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is my friend, if Kreacher's Mistress saw him in such company, oh what would she say—" Kreacher says angrily.

"Don't call her a Mudblood!" Ron and Ginny say together, very angrily.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione whispers, "he's not in his right mind, he doesn't know what he's—"

"Don't kid yourself, Hermione, he knows exactly what he's saying," Fred says eyeing Kreacher.

"Is it true? Is it Harry Potter? Kreacher can see the scar, it must be true, that's that boy who stopped the Dark Lord, Kreacher wonders how he did it—"

"Don't we all, Kreacher?" Fred asks.

"What do you want anyway?" George asks.

"Kreacher is cleaning," he says evasively.

"A likely story," says a voice behind Harry. We look to see Sirius in the door way. "Stand up straight, Now, what are you up to?"

"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf repeats, "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black—"

"—and it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy," said Sirius.

"Master always liked his little joke,"  Kreacher says, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, "Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart—"

"My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher," Sirius snaps, "She kept herself alive out of pure spite."

, "Whatever Master says," Kreacher says then muttersfuriously, "Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother's boots, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was—"

"I asked you what you were up to,"  Sirius says coldly. "Every time you show up pretending to be cleaning, you sneak something off to your room so we can't throw it out."

"Kreacher would never move anything from its proper place in Master's house," he says elf, then muttered very fast, "Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown out, seven centuries it's been in the family, Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and the blood traitors and the brats destroy it—"

"I thought it might be that," Sirius says,"She'll have put another Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, I don't doubt, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will. Now go away, Kreacher."

"—comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's a murderer too—"

"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!" Sirius says irritably, and he slams the door shut on the elf.

"The saddest form of house elf," I say harshly, "useless and rude."

"Sirius, he's not right in the head," Hermione says pleadingly, "I don't think he realizes we can hear him."

"He's been alone too long," Sirius says, "taking mad orders from my mother's portrait and talking to himself, but he was always a foul little—"

"If you just set him free," Hermione says hopefully, "maybe—"

"We can't set him free, he knows too much about the Order," Sirius says curtly. "And anyway, the shock would kill him. You suggest to him that he leaves this house, see how he takes it." We look over at the old taperstry. It was a family tree, many of the pureblood families had one.

"You're not on here!" Harry says

"I used to be there," said Sirius, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home—Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath."

"You ran away from home?"

"When I was about sixteen," said Sirius. "I'd had enough."'

"Where did you go?" asked Harry, staring at him.

"Your dad's place," Sirius says,"Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's during the school holidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place of my own, my Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold—he's been wiped off here too, that's probably why—anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr. and Mrs. Potter's for Sunday lunch, though."

"But... why did you...?"

"Leave?" Sirius smiles bitterly and ran a hand through his long, unkempt hair. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal... my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them... that's him." Sirius points to the name Regulus black. "He was younger than me, and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."

"But he died," Harry says.

"Yeah," Sirius says, "Stupid idiot... he joined the Death Eaters."

"You're kidding!"

"Come on, Harry, haven't you seen enough of this house to tell what kind of wizards my family were?" Sirius says testily.

"Were—were your parents Death Eaters as well?"

"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having purebloods in charge. They weren't alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things... They got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."

"Was he killed by an Auror?" Harry asks.

"Oh no," Sirius says, "No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely, I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."

"Lunch," Mrs. Weasley's voice says.

She was holding her wand high in front of her, balancing a huge tray loaded with sandwiches and cake on its tip. She was very red in the face and still looked angry. The others moved over to her, eager for some food, but Harry remained with Sirius, who had bent closer to the tapestry.

"I haven't looked at this for years. There's Phineas Nigellus... my great-great-grandfather, see? Least popular headmaster Hogwarts ever had... and Araminta Meliflua... cousin of my mother's... tried to force through a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal... and dear Aunt Elladora... she started the family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays... of course, anytime the family produced someone halfway decent they were disowned. I see Tonks isn't on here. Maybe that's why Kreacher won't take orders from her—he's supposed to do whatever anyone in the family asks him..."

"You and Tonks are related?" Harry asks.

"Oh yeah, her mother, Andromeda, was my favorite cousin," said Sirius, examining the tapestry carefully. "No, Andromeda's not on here either, look— Andromeda's sisters are still here because they made lovely, respectable pure-blood marriages, but Andromeda married a Muggle-born, Ted Tonks, so—"

"You're related to the Malfoys!"

"The pure-blood families are all interrelated," Sirius says, "If you're only going to let your sons and daughters marry purebloods your choice is very limited, there are hardly any of us left. Molly and I are cousins by marriage and Arthur's something like my second cousin once removed. But there's no point looking for them on here—if ever a family was a bunch of blood traitors it's the Weasleys."

"Seriously Harry" I tell him, "all though some families were started on inbreeding so ya know they are good for a couple generations. And they've been ignoring the cousins by marriage."

"Gross," Ron mumbles. I shrug and look at them. 

"Fun fact I'm not related to any of you!" I exclaim.

"Good news for me," Fred mumbles.

"You wish Freddie," I tell him.

"Lestrange..." Harry says.

"They're in Azkaban," Sirius says shortly. "Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus came in with Barty Crouch, Junior, Rodolphus's brother, Rabastan, was with them too."

"You never said she was your—"

"Does it matter if she's my cousin?" snaps Sirius. "As far as I'm concerned, they're not my family. She's certainly not my family. I haven't seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming in to Azkaban. D'you think I'm proud of having relatives like her?"

"Sorry," says Harry quickly, "I didn't mean—I was just surprised, that's all—"

"It doesn't matter, don't apologize," Sirius mumbles at once, "I don't like being back here. I never thought I'd be stuck in this house again. It's ideal for headquarters, of course. My father put every security measure known to Wizard-kind on it when he lived here. It's Unplottable, so Muggles could never come and call—as if they'd have wanted to—and now Dumbledore's added his protection, you'd be hard put to find a safer house anywhere. Dumbledore's Secret-Keeper for the Order, you know—nobody can find headquarters unless he tells them personally where it is—that note Moody showed you last night, that was from Dumbledore...If my parents could see the use it was being put to now... well, my mother's portrait should give you some idea..." I tune them out as I start to eat my food. Soon enough we were being pulled to another task. Emptying those shelves. 

"Ow son of a bitch!" I yell as something snaps at me. Sirius and Molly glare at me as I shake my hand in pain. "Oh um sorry." I pull my wand up and use it to edge the box into the trash bag.

As the days went on more and more of the house had been cleaned out. The Drawing room just need that desk and the tapestry. Sirius had thrown most of the belonging out. Anything related to his parents and his childhood went. While Kreacher was constantly attempting to smuggle items to safety.  

 Half way through the cleaning Remus had given me a Order task, pull the kids up that had Death Eater parents and might be worth looking up. So I sat and read up on the old Death eaters, then files of students Dumbledore had dropped off. The Sirius had asked me if I could get a decent defense set up for Harry to see what they had grounds to do. Everything was surrounding me as the others cleaned the rooms upstairs. I felt pairs of eyes settling on me. I sigh and shut my book.

"Boys aren't you supposed to be cleaning?" I ask as they slip from the shadows and walk towards me. Harry and Ron. 

"What are you working on?" Harry asks.

"My assignment," I tell them, "well one of them...." 

"Which is?" Ron asks. I sigh and look over the boys. "Tell us?"

"No," I tell them, "Actually Harry... You said dementors attacked you. 2 of them right?"

"Yeah," He says. I look down the book and nod. 

"Okay so magic in defense is actually-" I mumble as I reopen my book as I move to the back of it. Then I scribble some stuff on the enchanted parchment. I had Remus enchant it so only the other order members could read it. As I seal it I hand it to Harry. "Give that to Sirius. And don't bother trying to read it. Its enchanted so you can't read it." They groan and walk off as I switch to the death eater thing. So far I'm thinking Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and a couple others. But who knew.

 *****

   "In a situation of life or death they will pardon the use of magic of underage wizards and of magic in front of muggles," I tell Harry as we prepare him for his hearing, "besides even in the most extreme cases underage magic isn't grounds for expulsion. A good reason must be given-"

"Breath," Remus mumbles. I roll my eyes and look back to Harry taking his hand and Molly attempts to tame his hair.

"Everything will be okay," I tell him, "we all are routing for you." He smiles slightly and I pull him into a hug. "Knock em dead Potter."