Despite Harry's arrival, there was a really awkward feeling around the kitchen table. Molly was still preparing dinner, and everyone else was lost in conversation with one another. You felt something brush against his knees and started, but it was only Crookshanks, Hermione’s bandy-legged ginger cat, who wound himself once around your legs, purring, then jumped onto Sirius’s lap and curled up.
Sirius scratched him absentmindedly behind the ears as he turned, still grim-faced, to Harry. "Had a good summer so far?"
"No, it’s been lousy." said Harry.
For the first time, something like a grin flitted across Sirius’s face. "Don’t know what you’re complaining about, myself."
"What?" said Harry incredulously.
"Personally, I’d have welcomed a dementor attack. A deadly struggle for
my soul would have broken the monotony nicely. You think you’ve had it bad, at least you’ve been able to get out and about, stretch your legs, get into a few fights....I’ve been stuck inside for a month."
"How come?" asked Harry, frowning.
"Because the Ministry of Magic’s still after dad, and Voldemort will know
all about him being an Animagus by now, Wormtail will have told him, so his big disguise is useless. There’s not much I can do for the Order of the Phoenix... or so Dumbledore feels." You said to Harry.
There was something about your dad when he heard Dumbledore's name and Harry understood that Sirius was not very happy with the headmaster either. Harry felt a sudden upsurge of affection for his godfather.
"At least you’ve known what’s been going on." he said bracingly.
"Oh yeah." said Sirius sarcastically. "Listening to Snape’s reports, having to take all his snide hints that he’s out there risking his life while I’m sat on my backside here having a nice comfortable time...asking me how the
cleaning’s going —"
"What cleaning?" asked Harry.
"Trying to make this place fit for human habitation, he means." you said smiling and turned to see Sirius waving a hand around the dismal kitchen.
"No one’s lived here for ten years, not since my dear mother died, unless you count her old house-elf, and he’s gone round the twist, hasn’t cleaned anything in ages —"
"Sirius?" said Mundungus, who did not appear to have paid any attention to this conversation, but had been minutely examining an empty goblet. "This
solid silver, mate?"
"Yes," said Sirius, surveying it with distaste. "Finest fifteenth-century goblin-wrought silver, embossed with the Black family crest."
"That’d come off, though," muttered Mundungus, polishing it with his cuff. His gesture made you immediately snatch it off from his hand and placed it back on the table.
"Fred — George — NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked.
Harry, Sirius, you and Mundungus looked around and, a split second later,
dived away from the table. Fred and George had bewitched a large cauldron
of stew, an iron flagon of butterbeer, and a heavy wooden breadboard, complete with knife, to hurtle through the air toward them. The stew skidded the length of the table and came to a halt just before the end, leaving a long black burn on the wooden surface, the flagon of butterbeer fell with a crash, spilling its contents everywhere, and the bread knife slipped off the board and landed, point down and quivering ominously, exactly where Sirius’s right hand had been seconds before.
"FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE!" screamed Mrs. Weasley. "THERE WAS NO NEED — I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS — JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW DOES NOT MEAN YOU HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"
YOU ARE READING
One Of A Kind ||A Fred Weasley Fanfiction||
Fanfiction(Y/n) Black, the daughter of Sirius Black, was nurtured by the Weasley family, forming strong bonds with all of its members. However, her affection ran particularly deep for Fred Weasley, the older twin. As time went on and their lives became intert...
