Cassia's POV

Living at 4 Privet Drive during the summer holiday was awful, to say the least. The Dursleys kept Harry and I shut upstairs almost 24/7. Every morning, we would be woken up at 5 AM so we could pay the owl that delivered the Daily Prophet, but was there any point in continuing to take it? Harry merely glanced at the front page before throwing it aside these days. Usually, I would just rip the paper up, letting the shreds drop into the wastebasket I had placed right near my bed for that very purpose. When the idiots who ran the paper finally realized that Voldemort was back, it would be headline news, and that was the only kind Harry and I ever cared about now.

If we were lucky, there would also be owls carrying letters from our best friends Ron and Hermione, or even Cedric, though any expectations we'd had that their letters would bring us news had long since been dashed.

We can't say much about you-know-what, obviously...We've been told not to say anything important in case our letters go astray...We're quite busy but I can't give you details here...There's a fair amount going on, we'll tell you everything when we see you guys...

But the question was, when were they going to see us? Nobody seemed too bothered with a precise date. Hermione had scribbled "I expect we'll see you soon" inside our birthday card, but how soon was soon? As far as we could tell from the vague hints in their letters, Hermione, Ron, and Cedric were in the same place, presumably at the Burrow. The thought of them having fun while we were basically prisoners in our aunt and uncle's house...I fought to keep my elemental powers under control so I didn't accidentally burn Harry in a fit of rage.

Worst of all, Cedric blew me off. And not just once. He and I made plans to get together on alternate Fridays, and of course, on July 31st, but I would receive an owl from Cedric the day before our get-together, saying something suddenly came up and he had to cancel. I didn't think much of it the first time, but when it happened again and again, I started to get angry. What the hell is going on with him?

Both of us were quite angry at them, so we'd thrown away the Every Flavor Beans and the four boxes of Honeydukes chocolate they had sent us for our birthday...though we regretted that later, after the wilted salad Aunt Petunia had provided for dinner that night.

And what were they busy with? Why weren't we, Harry and Cassia, busy? Hadn't we proved ourselves capable of handling much more than them? Had they forgotten what we had done? Hadn't it been us who entered that graveyard and nearly been killed, and saved Cedric's life?

Sirius, at least, seemed to understand how we were feeling. Admittedly, his letters were just as devoid of proper news as Ron, Hermione, and Ceddy's, but at least they contained words of caution and consolation instead of tantalizing hints; I know this must be frustrating for you...Believe me, Cassia, I'm going to have a talk with Cedric...He should never have stood you up like that without a better reason than 'Something came up'...Keep your noses clean and everything will be ok...Be careful and don't do anything rash...

As a last resort, we tried to listen to the Muggle news in secret, knowing that our aunt and uncle would blow a fuse if we asked to just sit with them and watch it. Sadly, we wound up getting caught every time we tried. Even last night, when we'd been hiding in Aunt Petunia's flower bed outside. Uncle Vernon had thought we were performing underage magic, because he'd heard the cracking sound that only occurred when someone was Apparating or Disapparating, and -- of course -- he refused to believe we were innocent. Besides, there was never anything worth hearing.

Harry and I took many walks together, going from the middle of the afternoon all the way into the early evening. Sometimes we would scavenge through rubbish bins to look for newspapers. Our aunt and uncle didn't really care, as long as we were out of the house and they didn't hear the neighbors gossiping about any "funny business". And Dudley...well, he was gone long before we went out.

The Dursleys were astonishingly stupid with Dudley. They had swallowed all of his dim-witted lies about having tea with a different member of his gang every night of the summer holidays. My brother and I knew perfectly well that Dudley had not been to tea anywhere; he and his gang spent every evening vandalizing the play park, smoking on street corners and throwing stones at passing cars and children. I'd seen them at it during my walks with Harry around Little Whinging.

I regretted going for a walk today, only because it was the hottest day of the year--a record 110 degrees Fahrenheit, according to the weatherman when he'd announced the five-day forecast for this week. Hopefully I don't come back to Privet Drive looking like a lobster.

We arrived at a park that was almost as empty as the surrounding streets. The only other people there was a little boy and his mother. Harry and I headed for the swings, and sat on the only two that Dudley and his friends had not yet managed to break. I coiled one arm around the chain and stared moodily at the ground, grasping Harry's fingers with my free hand. Tomorrow we would have to think of some fresh way of listening to the news. In the meantime, we had nothing to look forward to except another restless, disturbed night, because in addition to the nightmares about seeing Voldemort return to power, we had unsettling dreams bout long dark corridors, all finishing in dead ends and locked doors, which I guessed had something to do with the trapped feeling we had when we were awake. Often the old scar on my forehead prickled uncomfortably, as did Harry's, but I doubted that Ron or Hermione or Sirius would find that very interesting anymore. In the past, our scars hurting had been a warning that Voldemort was getting stronger again, but now that he was back, they would probably remind me that its regular irritation was only to be expected...nothing to worry about...old news...

The injustice of it all welled up inside me so that I wanted to yell with fury. If it hadn't been for us, nobody would even have known Voldemort was back! And this is the thanks we get? Stuck in Little Whinging, completely cut off from the magical world, reduced to hiding in our aunt's dying flower bed just so we could listen to the telly in hopes of hearing about anything mysterious that could be traced back to Snakeface and his Death Eaters?! Why had Ron and Hermione gotten together without inviting us along, too? And why on Earth was Cedric blowing me off? Is he cheating on me?

"All this waiting is getting on my last nerve," I said.

"I know," Harry concurred, giving my hand a squeeze. "I don't get why our friends are keeping secrets from us, or why Cedric keeps cancelling dates with you."

I sighed. "I don't want to think about the possibility that he might be cheating on me."

Harry squeezed my hand again. "I'll hex him into next year if he is." His reassurance made me crack a smile.

"Thanks, Harry," I said, giving his hand a squeeze back.

The sound of voices interrupted us before we could talk further, and we looked up to see our cousin, Dudley Dursley, and his goons, standing at least three feet in front of us.

Dudley had always been a chubby kid, but a year's hard dieting and the discovery of a new talent had wrought quite a change in his physique. As Uncle Vernon delightedly told anyone who would listen, Dudley had recently become the Junior Heavyweight Inter-school Boxing Champion of the Southeast. "The noble sport,", as Uncle Vernon called it, had made Dudley even more formidable than he had seemed for Harry in their primary school days, when Harry told me he had served as Dudley's first punchball. Neither of us were remotely afraid of our cousin, but I doubted that Dudley learning to punch harder and more accurately was cause for celebration. Neighborhood children all around were terrified of him, even more so than they were of the Potter twins.

"Hey, Big D," Harry greeted, making no attempt to hide the sarcasm in his voice. "Beat up another 10-year-old?"

"This one deserved it," Dudley retorted.

"Oh, yeah?" Harry questioned.

"He cheeked me."

I rolled my eyes. "That's debatable. Every kid on the block is terrified of you."

"Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught how to walk on its hind legs? 'Cause that's not cheek, Dud, that's true," Harry remarked, making me look at him in mock confusion.

"I thought you said he looked like a pig in a wig."

A muscle was twitching in Dudley's jaw. It gave me enormous satisfaction to know how much Harry and I were pissing him off; it was as though we were siphoning off our own frustration into our cousin, the only available outlet we had.

Ignoring the angered look on Dudley's face, I continued, "Picking on kids younger and smaller than you? That's low, even for you, Dinky Duddydums." A few of his goons snickered at the nickname Aunt Petunia had given him.

Harry chuckled, high-fiving me. "Nice one," he whispered.

"Well, you're one to talk, mumbling in your sleep every night. At least I'm not afraid of my pillow," Dudley retaliated.

"What do you mean?" I asked, but there was a cold, plunging sensation in my stomach. Harry and I had revisited the graveyard at night, in our dreams.

Dudley gave a harsh bark of laughter, then adopted a high-pitched whispering voice. "Don't kill Cedric! Leave him alone!" His mockery sparked up a round of laughter from the rest of his gang. "Who's Cedric, your boyfriend?" he asked, smirking at me.

"None of your business," I said automatically, though I knew Dudley wasn't lying. How else would he know about Ceddy?

Harry glared at our cousin. "Shut up."

Dudley just kept going. "He's going to kill me, mum!" he wailed, pretending to be scared. "Where is your mum? Where is your mum, Potters? She dead?" At this, his goons laughed even more.

"Is she dead?" Dudley repeated. I could feel my palms start to heat up as I felt myself get angrier and angrier. He had crossed the line. No one, and I mean no one makes fun of the fact that Harry and I don't have parents, and gets away with it. The gang laughed even harder. "Is she dead?"

Harry and I marched straight up to Dudley, our wands pointed at his heart, though we didn't do anything. Pulling out our wands wasn't intended as anything more than a threatening gesture.

The wind picked up, but it was much more intense than the cool breeze that passed through Little Whinging from time to time. I knew this couldn't have been our doing. Something had happened to the afternoon. The once-clear, blue sky was now obstructed by dark storm clouds. We heard Dudley's crew telling him that they had to get out of here, but Dudley didn't move a muscle, so they gave up and booked it out of the park.

"What are you doing? Dudley asked, looking at us in shock and fear.

"We're not doing anything!" Harry exclaimed at the same time I said "This isn't us!"

Even though the park was now almost completely deserted, I got the feeling we were being watched. "Guys, we have to get out of here. It's not safe."

Dudley followed Harry and I without any hesitation as we bolted away from the park. The wind gradually died down, but the rain started pouring, forcing us to take shelter in a nearby tunnel. Barely ten seconds had passed before I felt a slight pain in my head, right where my scar was. Whoever -- or whatever -- had been following us was not a friend. I couldn't tell whether it was a Death Eater, a dark creature, or worst of all, Voldemort himself. That was the one downside of my psychic abilities; it was impossible for me to identify the type of threat present, if I sensed one.

The lights lining the tunnel flickered a few times before suddenly turning off, and the air around us became freezing. I was shivering all over; goosebumps had erupted up my arms and the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up.

Even with both of us keeping a watchful eye, nothing could have prepared me or Harry for what happened next. A Dementor popped up out of nowhere and grabbed Harry by the throat, holding him a few inches off the ground.

"Dudley...Cassia...run!" Harry managed in between gasps of breath.

Our cousin ran toward the other end of the tunnel, only to slip on a wet patch of ground and fall on his back. Two more Dementors came into sight, one of them looming over Dudley while the other flew right at me. Using my Elemental powers, I quickly conjured a ball of fire and held it in my palm. The Dementor facing me was intimidated by the fire, though it was slowly advancing on me. I glanced at Harry and Dudley to see the other two Dementors were slurping up as many happy memories as they could. I fought to keep the fire in my open hand from dying out, but it was no use. One Dementor was bad enough, but three? We wouldn't survive. Not a chance.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry's voice rang out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an enormous silver stag erupting from the tip of Harry's wand. It took the first Dementor by surprise; throwing it backwards, weightless as darkness, and as the stag bolted forward, the Dementor swooped away, bat-like and defeated.

I felt the fire in my hand grow bigger again, and I threw it at the Dementor in front of me, making it hiss. Harry took advantage of the momentary distraction and sent the stag galloping towards it. The latter was instantly overpowered, and it fled the tunnel.

"There's one more over there!" I called out to Harry, pointing to Dudley at the far end of the tunnel. Harry nodded and sent the stag in that direction. The Dementor's eyeless face was barely an inch from Dudley's when the silver antlers caught it; the thing was thrown up into the air and, like its fellows, it soared away and was absorbed into the darkness; the stag cantered to the end of the tunnel and dissolved into silver mist.

The lights above us burst back into life. A warm breeze swept through. I heard trees rustle in the distance and the mundane rumble of cars filled the air.

I couldn't believe what had just happened. Dementors here, in Little Whinging?!

Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry and I rushed over to him and bent down to check and see if he was in a fit state to stand up, but then we heard someone else coming. This time, however, I didn't feel the headache that had occurred several minutes earlier.

Mrs. Figg, the Dursleys' batty old neighbor, came into view. Her grizzled grey hair was escaping from its hairnet, the handle of a red wagon was grasped firmly with one of her hands, and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers.

Harry looked up at her. "M-Mrs. Figg," he stammered, making a move to stow his wand hurriedly out of sight.

"Don't put away your wand, Harry. They might come back," Mrs. Figg warned him.

<><><><><>

Mrs. Figg was gracious enough to walk us back to Privet Drive. An ashen-faced Dudley held Harry in an armlock to support himself, while I had both hands on his upper arm so I could keep him from tipping over and squashing my brother. It seemed Dudley had lost all desire for independent movement after the Dementor ambush.

"I don't understand. H-How did you-" Harry started to ask, before Mrs. Figg cut him off.

"Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye on you," she informed us.

"Dumbledore asked you?" Harry echoed.

I stared at her in disbelief. "You know Dumbledore?"

She nodded. "And after You-Know-Who nearly killed you and Amos Diggory's boy last year, he told me to keep a closer watch," Mrs. Figg replied, stopping us as we came to the driveway of 4 Privet Drive. "Now, get inside and stay there. I expect someone will be in touch with you soon enough. Until then, whatever happens, don't leave the house," she warned us, before setting off at a trot, carpet slippers flopping, wagon wheels creaking, across the street to her own house.

"I don't get it...how on Earth does she know Dumbledore?" I asked Harry, looping one of Dudley's arms over my shoulder to support his weight. Harry couldn't answer, though I expected that. Even I didn't know.

I heard the whir of a battery-powered miniature fan, and the weatherman predicting the forecast for the week as we entered the house and helped Dudley into the parlor.

"Diddykins..is that you?" Aunt Petunia asked dreamily once she heard us approaching. Her skin became pallid once she caught a glimpse of how sick Dudley looked. "Duddy...Vernon, come quick."

Uncle Vernon looked over at her from his place at the refrigerator, where he had previously been eating a tub of ice cream by the spoonful. Seeing Dudley's condition, he immediately helped him into an armchair and gave him the tub of ice cream. Dudley held it in his arms like a lifeline.

Aunt Petunia pressed a hand to his clammy forehead. "We're going to have to take him to the hospital," she whispered.

"Who did this to you, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked. His answer was Dudley pointing at the two of us, across the room. "Happy, are we, now?" he asked us, growing furious. "You finally done it! You've finally driven him loopy!"

"Vernon! Don't say that!" Aunt Petunia hissed.

"J-J-Just look at him, Petunia! Our boy has gone yampy!" Uncle Vernon spluttered, before turning on us again. "I've reached my limit, you hear? This is the last I'm gonna take of you and you nonsense!" And at that precise moment, a screeching owl swooped in through the kitchen window, dropping a letter it had carried in its beak. I cringed when the bird dropped to the floor with a thud, but mentally sighed in relief once I saw it was unharmed. It clambered up onto one of the sofa cushions and then flew away.

The letter rose upward, floating in midair. A pair of eye slits appeared on the envelope, and the wax seal on the back formed into a pair of lips. "Dear Mr. Potter: The Ministry has received intelligence that, at 6:23 this evening, you performed the Patronus Charm in the presence of a Muggle. As a clear violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hoping you are well, Mafalda Hopkirk," the envelope said, before it fell to the ground. 

No...no, it couldn't be true! Harry used magic in self-defense, to protect us! He didn't mean to break the rules, but he had no choice!

Uncle Vernon had a huge grin on his face. "Justice..."

<><><><><>

Aunt Petunia locked us in Harry's room while she and Uncle Vernon took Dudley to the hospital. Well, it was technically Dudley's "second" bedroom; his room couldn't hold the countless amount of presents he'd received for Christmas and birthdays, so they had to move most of it into one of the two guest rooms. During my stay here, Harry and I had to share the room, not that I minded. At least we were together.

Harry pounded on the door, making Hedwig squeak in surprise, and a framed photo on Harry's nightstand toppled to the ground. Luckily, I managed to catch it before it could shatter. 

"Sorry, Hedwig," Harry apologized, taking a seat next to me at the end of the bed.

My eyes brimmed with tears as I looked at the photograph, which depicted Mum and Dad dancing and smiling together. Closing my eyes to prevent the tears from falling, I gingerly placed the photo back on the nightstand. I wanted more than anything for us to be a family, but at the same time I didn't. I knew it was just wishful thinking.

Ivy jumped up onto the bed and nestled herself against my leg as I looked through my photo album. Hagrid had given one to Harry and I, at the end of our first year at Hogwarts. Photos would magically appear in the album every year. The majority of them were of all four of us; Harry, Ron, Hermione, and myself. Of course, there were also several of me and Cedric. I have two favorites. One is of Cedric and I leading the first dance at the Yule Ball, with the other champions. The second is of Harry and I, after our first ever Quidditch match. We're still in our uniforms, we each have an arm around each other, and Harry's holding the Golden Snitch in his free hand while I'm holding my broom. 

I stopped flipping through the album when I heard Harry's rapid breathing. He'd dozed off about twenty minutes ago. I looked over at him to see he was now tossing and turning. Sweat dripped from his forehead. He was having another nightmare. 

"Harry...Harry, wake up," I whispered, shaking his shoulder. It took me several tries, but his eyes opened and he bolted upright in bed. "Shh...it's okay, Harry. It was just a dream," I said as I hugged him, rubbing his back in the process.

"That was the worst one..." Harry murmured, "I dreamed we were back in the graveyard again, but -- but Voldemort, he -- he killed Cedric, and -- and --"

"And what?" I asked, continuing to rub his back.

Harry took a shaky breath. "Then...he tortured and killed you, right in front of me. I wanted to save you, but I couldn't. I was still trapped against that tombstone."

"Don't worry, Harry. It was just a nightmare -- it's not real," I reassured him. "Besides, you know me. I never go down without a fight." 

He chuckled. "You are a tough girl." With a slight giggle, I nodded in agreement. 

Our nice moment was interrupted when we heard someone unlocking the door. I glanced across the room and saw that the key, which was still sitting inside the lock, had begun to turn clockwise. On instinct, Harry and I made a grab for our wands and pointed them at the door. I wasn't sure who was trying to get in, but if they were an enemy, we had to be ready to strike them first.

The key turned one last time, before being pulled out of the lock, falling onto the carpeted floor. Then the door swung open.

"How clean, these Muggles," I heard Dora whisper.

"Tonks, for God's sake..." a deeper, more masculine voice grumbled. Using a nonverbal "Lumos", Dora lit her wand and pointed it into the room. She was accompanied by several other witches and wizards. And one of them was-

"Mad-Eye Moody..." I breathed, once I caught sight of him.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"Rescuing you two, of course," Moody replied. 

"I can see how close you two have grown," Dora commented as she helped us pack our trunks. "Cass tells me so many wonderful things about you. I'm Nymphadora, but call me Dora or Tonks."

"Oh, nice to meet you," Harry said, shaking hands with her.

I crossed over and opened the window, and then I unlocked Ethel's cage. "If it's okay with you guys, I think I'm gonna let Ethel fly ahead of us. Hopefully she knows where we're going...because I know we don't." Ethel nuzzled my neck, as if thanking me for not keeping her in her cage while we were traveling.

"Neither do I," Harry said, "but if you're letting Ethel fly ahead, I think she'd appreciate some company." He unlocked Hedwig's cage, and Hedwig nibbled his finger in an affectionate manner before flying out the window. Ethel took off right after her.

I smiled at the sight. "Well, Ethel and Hedwig are best friends."

"Just like you and me, sis." Harry came over and placed an arm around me.

"I hate to be rude and interrupt you, but we'd better get going. Mad-Eye gets grumpy when he's impatient," Dora spoke up. She levitated our trunks -- and Ivy's pet-carrier -- and led us down the stairs.

"Where are we going? The letter said I've been expelled from Hogwarts," Harry objected as we left the house.

"Well, you haven't been. Not yet," Moody replied.

"Not yet?" I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by not yet?" 

Moody nodded toward a bald, black wizard. "Kingsley, fill them in."

"Dumbledore has persuaded the Ministry to suspend your brother's expulsion, pending a formal hearing," Kingsley explained as he took my trunk and my cat-carrier. He had a single gold earring in one ear, and he was dressed in blue robes, with a matching fez atop his head.

"Hearing?" Harry echoed.

"Don't worry, guys. We'll explain everything when we get back to Headquarters," Dora assured us as she.

"Shh!" Moody shushed her, "Not here, Nymphadora!"

That got her mad. "Don't -- call me -- Nymphadora!" Her hair turned bright red, earning a confused look from Harry.

"She's a Metamorphagus. She can change her appearance at will," I whispered to him. He nodded in understanding.

Moody tapped his walking stick on the ground, and our brooms sped into our waiting hands. Using a harness, Dora and Kingsley attached mine and Harry's things to their brooms.

"Stay in formation, everyone," Moody ordered, "And don't break ranks if one of us is killed." We all mounted our brooms and sped away, into the night.

<><><><><>

We landed on a street called Grimmauld Place, and were led to a pair of black apartment flats. I could see the numbers eleven and thirteen on them. Moody banged his cane on the ground three times, and the houses moved apart to reveal number twelve. A gate sprung up in front of us.

"In you go," Moody urged us.

With some hesitation, we entered the flat. Moody led our group of rescuers past us, heading into the room straight ahead of us. Dora winked as she passed me, but then she almost tripped over an umbrella stand. She recovered quickly and followed Kingsley into the room. It looked like the adults were having a meeting. I tried to see if I could find Cedric among them, but I couldn't. Our view was then blocked by Mrs. Weasley stepping in front of the door. 

"Harry, Cassia," she greeted, closing the door behind her.

"Mrs. Weasley..." Harry breathed.

"Thank heavens you're both alright!" She pulled us each into a rib-cracking hug before holding us at arm's length and examining us critically. "Bit peaky, but I'm afraid dinner will have to wait until after the meeting's finished."

I started to protest, but Mrs. Weasley stopped us. "No. No time to explain. Straight upstairs, first door on the left," she directed.

We crept up the stairs, passing a pair of long, moth-eaten curtains along the way. A very old and grouchy-looking house elf glared daggers at us as we climbed the stairs and, one at a time, crossed the dingy landing. I turned the bedroom doorknob, which was shaped like a serpent's head. 

I caught a brief glimpse of a gloomy, high-ceilinged, twin-bedded room; then there was a loud twittering noise, followed by an even louder shriek, and our vision was completely obscured by a large quantity of very sleek hair. Hermione had thrown herself onto Harry and I in a hug that nearly knocked us flat, while Ron's tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, zoomed excitedly round and round our heads.

"Harry, Cassia! Are you alright? We've heard them talking about the Dementor attack. You must tell us everything!" she said.

"Let 'em breathe, Hermione," Ron cut in, grinning as he closed the door behind us. He seemed to have grown several more inches during our month apart, making him taller and more gangly-looking than ever, though the long nose, bright red hair and freckles were the same.

"And this hearing at the Ministry...it's just outrageous! I've looked it up. They can't expel you! It's completely unfair!" Hermione went on.

"There's a lot of that going around, Hermione," Harry remarked. Note the sarcasm. 

"What is this place?" I asked, looking about the room.

"It's Headquarters," Ron said.

"For the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore formed it back when they first fought You-Know-Who," Hermione added.

"You couldn't have put this in a letter, I suppose," Harry snapped.

"We've gone all summer without a scrap of news," I added.

"We wanted to tell you and Cass, mate. Really, we did. Only..." Ron paused.

"Only what?" I asked, urging them to go on.

He was about to continue, but Hermione beat him to it. "Only Dumbledore made us swear not to tell you anything," she said.

The warm glow that had flared inside me at the sight of my two best friends all together was extinguished as something icy flooded the pit of my stomach. All of a sudden -- after yearning to see them for a solid month, I felt I would rather Ron and Hermione leave us alone. I didn't need to look at Harry to tell he felt the same way.

"Why the hell would he want to keep us in the dark about this?" I asked. "He knows Harry and I can help the Order. We saw Snakeface return, for crying out loud!" 

"We're the ones who fought him," Harry chimed in. "We're the ones who saved Cedric's life in that graveyard."

My hands clenched into fists. "Who, by the way, owes me an apology and an explanation for blowing me off several times!" I felt my body temperature climbing as I got angrier and angrier.

With two loud cracks, Fred and George, Ron's elder twin brothers, had materialized out of thin air in the middle of the room.

"Hey, guys," Fred greeted.

"Thought we heard your dulcet tones," George added, beaming at us.

"You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, guys, let it all out," Fred said, also beaming. 

"Or would you like to hear something a little more interesting?" George suggested.

I grinned, crossing my arms. "Enlighten us."

<><><><><>

Fred and George cautiously lowered an Extendable Ear towards the ground, in front of the kitchen door. On the other end of the string, George held what looked like a small speaker, so we could hear what the Order was discussing.

"If anyone's got a right to know, it's them. If it wasn't for them, we wouldn't even know Voldemort was back!" That was Sirius.

"They're not members of the Order of the Phoenix!" Mrs. Weasley said. "They're only fifteen and-"

"-and they've dealt with as much as most in the Order," Sirius cut in, "and more than some."

"No one's denying what they've done!" Mrs. Weasley said, her voice raising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. "But they're still-"

"They're not children!" Sirius said impatiently.

"They're not adults either!" Mrs. Weasley pointed out. "They're not Lily and James, Sirius!"

"Harry's not your son, and Cassia isn't your daughter," Sirius said quietly.

"They're as good as," Mrs. Weasley said fiercely. "Who else have they got?"

"Hey, Ginny," I whispered as she approached, coming to stand next to me. She gave a silent wave in return.

"They've got me!" It was true. Sirius was our only family. Well, that's not entirely true. We have our aunt and uncle, but I speak for both Harry and myself when I say I don't give a damn about them.

"How touchingly...paternal, Black. Perhaps they will grow up to be felons, just like their father," I heard Snape comment.

"Snape's part of the Order?" Harry whispered, to which Ron only nodded in reply.

Looking down, I saw Crookshanks licking his lips as he eyed the ear. Oh, boy... 

Fred tried to pull the ear up, but Crookshanks  grabbed it and shook it in his mouth, trying to yank it free of its string. 

"Crookshanks, stop it! Crookshanks, leave it alone!" Hermione whisper-shouted. It was no use. Crookshanks yanked the ear free from its string, and stalked off with it.

"Hermione, I hate your cat," Ron mumbled.

"Bad Crookshanks!" Hermione scolded. 

Mrs. Weasley appeared in the hallway, a smile on her face. "Well, the meeting down in the kitchen -- OH! Just because you're allowed to use magic now does NOT mean you have to whip your wands out for everything!" Looks like Fred and George decided to Apparate behind her. She then looked at Harry and I as we came down the stairs. "You hungry?"

"Harry and Cassia Potter," a masculine voice murmured. Mrs. Weasley moved out of the way, revealing our godfather. He hadn't changed a bit since the last time we saw him.

"Sirius!" Harry and I both exclaimed. We ran over and threw our arms around him.

<><><><><>

After dinner was finished and our plates had been cleared away, I heard two of the adults sitting in front of us start to talk about an urgent matter -- the Ministry, for some reason, wasn't on our side.

"What does the Ministry of Magic have against us?" Harry asked.

"Show them. They'll find out soon enough," Moody remarked from where he stood by the head of the table.

Sirius handed Harry a copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry's eyes widened when he saw it. I snatched the paper away from Harry once I saw his reaction, and read the paper for myself. The Prophet was lying about the Dark Lord's resurrection. As if that wasn't bad enough, there was an article about me, saying I should be committed. What the hell?!

"Fudge is using all his power, including his influence at The Daily Prophet, to smear anyone who claims the Dark Lord has returned," Sirius informed us.

"Doesn't explain why they're saying I've lost my marbles..." I muttered.

"The Minister thinks Dumbledore is after his job," Remus explained.

"That's insane! Nobody in their right mind would believe that Dumbledore-" Harry started to object.

Remus cut him off. "Exactly the point. Fudge isn't in his right mind. It's been twisted and warped by fear. Now, fear makes people do terrible things. The last time Voldemort gained power he almost destroyed everything we hold most dear. Now he's returned and I'm afraid the Minister will do almost anything to avoid facing that terrible truth."

"We think Voldemort wants to build up his army again," Sirius jumped in. "Fourteen years ago, he had huge numbers at his command: witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, and all manner of dark creatures. He has been recruiting heavily and we have been attempting to do the same. But gathering followers isn't all he's interested in.." Everyone's eyes were on him now. "We believe Voldemort may be after something," he said.

"Sirius..." Moody said in a warning tone, only to be ignored again.

"Something he didn't have last time," Sirius said.

"When he was powerful before?" I questioned.

He nodded. "Yes."

"You mean...like a weapon?" Harry asked.

"No. That's enough," Mrs. Weasley interrupted, snatching the paper from us. "They are just children! You say much more and we might as well induct them straightaway."

"Good. I want to join," Harry said.

"Me, too," I added. "I'm sick of the secrecy."

"If Voldemort's raising an army, then we want to fight!" Harry exclaimed.

Sirius sighed, giving a look of defeat. 

Mrs. Weasley was not happy about this. She asked -- no, ordered -- everyone to go to bed, and no staying up to talk. 

I was sure I wouldn't be able to fall asleep; the evening had been so packed with things to think about that I fully expected to lie awake for hours, mulling it all over. I expected Harry, in the room across the hall from mine, would be doing the same.