The next day was spent much the same as the previous one; the kids hung around mainly upstairs while the adults meandered in various other rooms in the house, wherever they were Phoebe didn't see much of them. The house had a sleepy feel to it for the majority of the day, everyone lazily hanging around and not doing much, though no doubt the mood would instantly perk up at lunch - as it always seemed to when food was around.

"I'm bored," Ron stated, sighing as he chucked the dusty book he was flipping through back onto the shelf.

"I'm bored of you saying that you're bored," Hermione snapped.

"Hermione, keep your head still!" Phoebe ordered, tugging Hermione's head back into position so she could continue braiding her hair.

"Sorry," Hermione muttered. Phoebe could almost feel the girl roll her eyes, despite not being able to see her face.

"Done!" Fred exclaimed from behind her.

Moving her hands to the back of her own head, Phoebe felt a messy plait beneath her fingers. She cringed slightly at the tangles her fingers brushed against.

"Thanks," She said, laughing at Fred's failed attempt at doing her hair.

"No problem," Fred sniggered, his voice sounding farther away as he crossed the room to join his twin.

The two of them bent their heads together, whispering and chuckling quietly - most likely discussing their joke shop.

"Done!" Phoebe grinned, repeating Fred's actions and beaming at her work.

"Thanks Pheebs," Hermione thanked, but the smile on her face seemed pained, "My hair is going to be so frizzy when these come out," she murmured, experimentally tugging the end of one of the French braids.

Phoebe shook her head and plonked down onto the floor by Fred and George, the latter of which took one look at her and burst out laughing.

"Is it that bad?" Phoebe frowned, once again feeling the braid Fred had given her.

"No no," George said between laughs, "It's just a new look on you is all."

Beside him, Fred was smirking smugly, clearly pleased with his work.

"Anyway," Phoebe drew out, trying to change the subject, "What are you planning?"

"Us?" George said incredulously.

"Planning?" Fred asked in the same tone.

"We would never do something so sensible," they finished innocently.

"Of course not, my bad," Phoebe apologised, "What are you scheming?" She rephrased.

"That's more like it!" George exclaimed.

"We're going over all the products we'll sell in our shop," Fred answered, "Do you think we have enough?"

He handed her a small scrap of paper, on it was a huge list of items, all of which were scrawled out in tiny writing. Phoebe's mouth dropped a little as she scanned through the extensive list.

"Are you sure you can make all these?" She asked, looking over the various objects described - most of them sounded too complicated for Phoebe to even attempt to make.

"Of course!" George assured confidentally.

"We've made them all before," Fred nodded.

"We just have to make hundred times more of them," George explained,

"And make sure nothing explodes in the process," Fred finished.

"Considering at least three of these literally contain dynamite, I think that might be an issue " Phoebe replied, scanning the list once more and picking out the, concerning, amount of products that had explosives in them.

"It'll be fine," Fred brushed off.

"Sure," Phoebe nodded slowly, her tone showing that she really didn't believe a word they said.

"Kids! Come down for lunch!" Molly's voice boomed throughout the house.

For such a small woman, she sure could shout, Phoebe thought.

Once they arrived downstairs, Phoebe noticed that there were a few more people around the table than the previous day - which was saying something, considering the amount of people there were already.

"Oh!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed when she saw Phoebe, causing the girl to freeze in her tracks, "Phoebe, dear, what have you done to your hair?"

"Fred did it," Phoebe replied, self consciously feeling the messy braid, she didn't think it was that bad.

"Fred!" Mrs Weasley scolded and, much to her apprehension, waved her wand at Phoebe.

"What was wrong with it?" Phoebe asked, very confused by now.

"It was just a bit... pink," Mrs Weasley explained, tucking her wand back into her apron.

"Fred!" Phoebe complained, shooting the boy a quick glare, to which he responded with a cheeky smirk and a peck on the lips.

After that short ordeal, lunch was almost an exact copy of the day before; loud conversations that didn't quite make sense were shouted across the table, an army's worth of food was shared around and more magic than Phoebe could account for took place. And, just the same as yesterday, a strange amount of people arrived just as the meal was finishing, the kids shooed away for some reason.

Phoebe narrowed her eyes as she walked up the stairs with the other kids, she knew what was happening in that room - the Order were gathering for a meeting - but she needed to know the details of what was being discussed.

"Why do all those people arrive every night?" She questioned, observing how several of the people tensed up at her words.

"Uh," George stuttered, Phoebe could practically see his brain working hard to come up with an excuse.

"Boring adult poker night," Fred cut in, brushing it off and trying to act casual. He gave her hand a squeeze, as a sign of reassurance, but Phoebe pulled away from him: she couldn't hold his hand with what she was about to do.

He turned back to look at her in confusion, asking silently why she had let go. When the others gradually noticed that the two had stopped in their tracks, they hesitantly made their way back to listen.

"It's the Order of the Phoenix isn't it," Phoebe asked, though she knew that she was right.

"H-how do you know about that?" Ron asked, his face flushing red, as if it were his secret alone that was being revealed.

Looking around at the group, Phoebe noticed that, while most of them simply looked confused and flustered, Harry had suddenly become on full guard, his face set and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Phoebe cringed a little under his gaze.

"No one outside of this house is supposed to know about that," Harry stated, almost accusingly.

"Technically, I'm not outside the house," Phoebe defended, though she realised that was a bad idea when Harry's glare increased in distaste.

"How do you know, Phoebe?" He asked, his voice harder and more demanding.

"I uh- I haven't been completely honest with you guys," Phoebe admitted, running a hand nervously through her hair. She risked a glance at Fred, who's face was painfully blank.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked softly, trying desperately to put together a puzzle in her head with the few pieces she had.

"I'm-"

"Is this something the adults should hear as well?" Ginny suddenly spoke up, she seemed to be the only person who didn't look completely on edge.

"Um, yeah that's a good idea," Phoebe nodded, turning back down the stairs.

A strange silence had settled over the group, something uncommon while there were Weasleys around. As they stopped outside the dining room door, Phoebe felt like she was being led to court. The jury were inside, waiting to sentence her for lying to them.

Her heart was thumping wildly around inside her chest and her fingers were trembling as she knocked on the door, which had been locked with a spell. Calm down, she told herself, you haven't done anything wrong.

Except lie to them for months, a more negative part of her responded.

"You know you're not allowed in here," Mrs Weasley scolded as she opened the door, but, after taking in their expressions, widened the door for them.

"What's wrong?" She asked worriedly.

"Phoebe has something she needs to say," Harry explained, a brutally sharp edge to his tone.

"What is it dear?" Mrs Weasley asked, focussing her warm eyes on Phoebe.

"Can we come in?" She asked, gesturing to the room behind the woman.

"Is it important?" Mrs Weasley checked, looking hesitantly at the room of people.

Phoebe nodded.

As they walked in, a wave of irritated muttering washed over Phoebe's ears.

"They're too young for this Molly, they shouldn't be here," one man exclaimed in annoyance.

"Phoebe needs to tell us something," Mrs Weasley explained briefly.

Phoebe looked around as murmurs of 'Phoebe?' and 'I've never heard of her.' rang throughout the room.

She hesitantly stepped forward, trying to ignore the pointed looks of everyone in the room. She had no clue who most of them were, but she was shocked to see that Dumbledore was there, along with McGonagall and Snape.

"Hi, I'm Phoebe," she waved slightly. It was a pathetic wave, she knew, but the number of eye rolls and scoffs she got in return was surprising.

Ignoring the annoyed looks being shot her way, Phoebe carried on with what she was trying to say.

"Um, this won't mean anything to a lot of you, because I have no idea who you are," she started nervously, "But I'm not actually a witch-" here she gained several confused/affronted looks from the friends and teachers that knew her "-as you will have noticed if you spent any time at all with me in the last four months: I'm terrible at magic and I always need help with everything, I don't know how you don't get annoyed at me 'Mione," Phoebe explained, trying to keep things lighthearted.

Harry still looked suspicious, as if he was waiting for her to slip up and admit to being part of Voldemort's exclusive gang.

"So you're a muggle?" He asked, "Why did you sneak into Hogwarts?"

"I think, if Miss Haywood was indeed a muggle, that how she snuck in would be a more important question," Professor Mcgonagall corrected Harry.

"I'm not a muggle," Phoebe shook her head, once again being faced with confused looks.

Throughout the time she spoke, she kept glancing at Fred to see how he would react, but his features still remained scarily blank. Phoebe hated that she could tell he was preparing himself for the worst, toughening himself up so that he could break up with her if necessary. She couldn't let that happen.

"I'm not a muggle," she repeated, "I'm something that you probably haven't heard of before. I'm a demigod: half-mortal - sorry, muggle - half-god."

No one, other than maybe Dumbledore, looked like they believed a word she was saying.

"Half Greek god, to be precise. I was sent here on a mission by my camp-"

"The camp you know Draco and Neville from?" Hermione interrupted, quickly gathering the details that Phoebe had hoped she would miss.

Phoebe slowly nodded.

"So that means that they're like you too?" Ron asked, his brow crinkling as he digested that information.

Phoebe nodded once again, "Neville is the son of Demeter, Greek goddess of harvest, agriculture and all that. And Draco is the son of Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom and strategic warfare," she explained, sounding confident for the first time since she had started talking.

"Are you implying that Lucius Malfoy was unfaithful to his wife, with a goddess?" Snape asked incredulously, sneering at her from his seat at the table.

"Unfortunately, yes," Phoebe replied, not bothering to gloss over the facts. She was more worried about how Draco and Neville would react when they found out she had revealed who they were.

"Wait, you were sent on a mission, for what?" Harry questioned, his glare never easing for a moment.

"Demigods are hunted down by monsters, you know the ones from the old Greek myths? Like the Minotaur and Hellhounds," Phoebe explained, searching for any signs of recognition among the faces, "Anyway, the camp director heard rumours that some of these monsters were being recruited by an evil wizard, Voldemort, and so he sent me to check it out."

A shiver seemed to run simultaneously along the occupants of the room at the sound of Voldemort's name. Phoebe had forgotten that his name was taboo here, like all names, she supposed, it held power.

"So," Harry started, looking to be in deep thought, "You're here to help?"

Phoebe nodded in response, feeling slightly better as she saw Harry ease once again into the boy she had befriended and not a young man hardened by the beginnings of war.

"You said that you were half-muggle, half-god," Dumbledore spoke up, "And I am rather curious to know who you claim as your godly parent?"

Phoebe realised that while she was explaining the idea of gods to them, she had completely skipped out herself. "My mother is Aphrodite," she said, "Goddess of love and beauty."

"So you're not a veela?" Ron asked, looking more perplexed than he had for any of the information so far.

"Nah, she just has good genes," George replied.

Phoebe was beginning to relax, everyone was taking it fairly well and no one had shouted yet, which was always a good sign. But then she remembered that Fred was still eerily silent.

"And you mentioned a camp that you attend?" Dumbledore said, hinting for more information.

"Oh, yeah, there's a special camp in America for demigods that they can either stay at all year, or just during the school holidays. It's one of the only safe places for us. We're trained how to fight and protect ourselves in the outside world."

"And how many people live there?"

"Year round? Maybe like sixty of us, but during the holidays at least a hundred more people arrive." Phoebe explained, thinking back to the multiple faces of camp.

Some people looked startled by this information, whether because they were expecting smaller numbers or larger, Phoebe didn't know.

"Why have we never heard of these so-called demi-gods?" One man asked, "To be the offspring of someone so powerful would surely be hard to keep hidden, the Ministry would have found out."

"Your Ministry aren't as powerful and all-knowing as they like to think," Phoebe replied, without thinking about how scorning the magical government in front of a group of scornful wizards would end.

"I would watch your mouth girl, the Ministry has done more for the UK than your supposed gods ever have," the man shot back, fury lacing his words.

"Those are bold words for someone who didn't even know they existed five minutes ago," Phoebe said, eyebrows raised defiantly. "Are you sure you want talk about some of the oldest beings in the world like that?"

The man didn't reply, instead he sunk back into his seat and settled for glaring at Phoebe.

"How do we know you're telling the truth Miss Haywood?" McGonagall asked, looking unsure about the whole thing.

"I can assure you, Minerva, this girl speaks no lie," Dumbledore cut in, sending Phoebe a warm look, the first one she had received since entering the room.

"How do you know, Albus?"

"I've known since her mentor first requested the transfer of a fifth year student," The man replied. This was news to Phoebe, she hadn't thought anyone had known about her.

"It was a strange request, so of course I found out what I could of your origin and of your people," He explained, "I must say, it is rather impressive what the children of the gods have achieved over the last few years."

Phoebe winced slightly at the obvious reference to the Titan and Giant wars.

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked. Phoebe was impressed that she had managed to keep her curiosity at bay for so long.

"Nothing," Phoebe tried to shake off, but Dumbledore had other plans.

"You shouldn't be so quick to brush aside your accomplishments child," he advised lightly.

"In the last few years there have been a couple of wars that the demigods have fought in, that's all," She explained quickly, in a rush to move on from the sensitive topic.

"You've fought in a war?" Several people exclaimed at once, much to Phoebe's annoyance - she was hoping to avoid this conversation.

"Two," she confirmed bluntly.

"But you're only a child!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed, sounding horrified.

"There was no one else to fight it, most demi-gods don't live past the age of twenty." She shrugged, as if that wasn't a piece of information that plagued her mind.

Fred let out a small sound of horror from a few feet away, but still made no move to speak to Phoebe.

A woman spoke up this time, looking highly affronted, "If these gods are so powerful, why are they sending children to fight for them?" She asked in distaste.

"Demi-gods are always fighting other people's battles," Phoebe said with a bitter smile, "It's why I'm here, so I can collect information and send it back to camp, then our camp director can decide how much help you'll need in the war against Voldemort."

"Well, in that case, send our gratitude to your camp director, we will need all the help we can get," Dumbledore sent Phoebe a thankful nod, which she returned with a nod of her own.

"So is it true about the monsters joining Voldemort's side?" She asked, taking the halt of questions as an opportunity to finally get the information she needed.

"Severus would be the best person to ask that," Dumbledore replied, nodding to the grumpy professor.

Phoebe turned her attention to the man, who looked reluctant to share his information with a sixteen year old girl.

"It's true, the Dark Lord has recruited several Greek monsters to work for him, though I wasn't aware of their origin before you informed us," the professor replied stiffly.

"Okay," Phoebe nodded slowly, chewing her lip as she thought about what to do, "I'll contact camp immediately and ask for back up, we can discuss what we plan to do when they arrive."

"What makes you think you will be allowed to join in the meetings?" A woman that Phoebe was unfamiliar with asked.

"The fact that I just offered you an army of back up and the fact that you need our help to defeat the monsters - they can only be killed by certain metals that demi-gods possess." Phoebe retorted, frustrated that some of these people still refused to accept they needed her.

"I hate to say it, dear, but you are still a child, you have provided more than enough help just be telling us this," Mrs Weasley said hesitantly.

"Molly, we need help and we're being offered it for free right now," Sirius spoke up, "We would be crazy to deny that."

"But she's just a child!" Mrs Weasley repeated her earlier words.

"A child who has just as much experience as us, if not more, in this area," Sirius replied and Phoebe sent him a grateful look.

"You need our help, you can't win this war without us," Phoebe repeated.

"Thank you Miss Haywood, if you go and contact your camp, we will finish discussing things here," Dumbledore said, dismissing her and the other kids once again.

ϟ

Later that night, Phoebe walked quietly across the corridor into the twins' room. It had been a busy evening, after the initial excitement and flurry of questions from her friends - who, luckily, weren't angry with her - Phoebe had Iris messaged Chiron and informed him what had taken place. Her mentor was surprised that she had already told the Order about herself, after she was so reluctant when he suggested it the other day, but he was happy to hear they had the beginnings of a plan forming.

"You'll have back up at Hogwarts by the end of the month," he had promised before ending the call.

If one good thing were to come out of this, it was seeing her friends again, and having them at Hogwarts would definitely be interesting.

Now, she was trying to make things up with Fred, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since she revealed who she really was.

"Hey," she said quietly upon entering.

George looked up from his book and waved, but Fred remained lying on his side. Phoebe bit back a sigh.

Perching on the edge of his bed, Phoebe gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Are you mad at me?" She whispered.

"No," Fred replied shortly.

"Really? Because it seems like it."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I've only know you for four months, I don't think it's that unreasonable to keep it a secret for that long," Phoebe replied softly.

"You can trust me with anything, I wouldn't have cared," Fred said, looking at her for the first time since she had entered the room.

"I know." Phoebe nodded, "That's why I told you today."

"I want us to be honest with each other from now on, please?" Fred asked, looking vulnerable and unlike himself.

"Of course," Phoebe whispered, pressing her lips gently to his, "I'll never lie to you again."

"I'm sorry for reacting badly," Fred muttered, scooting to the edge of the bed and gesturing for her to get under the covers.

"I'm sorry too," Phoebe replied, getting in and pulling the cover over herself.

"Is it true? What you said about demi-gods not living past 20?" Fred asked, his voice stained with worry.

Phoebe tensed, there was no way to answer that question without upsetting him. "Yeah, it's true."

"I won't let that happen to you, I'll protect you, I promise."

Instead of replying, Phoebe pressed another short kiss to his lips, there was no point in making him miserable about something that hadn't happened yet.

"If you two try anything tonight I'm throwing myself out of the window," George spoke up, breaking the moment.

They both let out groans of annoyance, before cuddling into each other and trying to sleep. Phoebe knew she would most likely have to deal with an angry Mrs Weasley in the morning, but right now she couldn't bring herself to care.

word count: 3683

a lot happened in this chapter and it's pretty important for the movement of the story. tell me what you thought of it in the comments! (republished because wattpad fucked up)

also, i'm going to try and get out another update of bittersweet in the next couple of days. if you love lily evans and you love a badass oc, you should check it out! and that's the end of my self-promotion