"Hello, Harry," Lindon says as Harry runs down the stairs to meet him, and he shakes Harry's hand. Cecilia isn't nearly so formal - she pulls Harry into a hug of greeting, and she shoots him a little grin as she pats his shoulder. Cecilia is wearing red jeans and a low-cut blouse Harry can't quite tear his gaze from, though Lindon is in a usual set of deep blue robes, and behind them stands a long-haired, tall man that must be Bill Weasley.

Bill Weasley has a broad, square jaw and the same bright, blue eyes as the rest of the Weasley clan. There's a light, gingery stubble over his chin and his cheeks, and the rest of his hair is drawn into a ponytail behind his head, and he wears a loop through one ear with what looks like a wolf fang hanging from it: his shoulders are broad but he's thin and his waist is small, and his tight shirt and trousers accentuate the fact. Harry looks him from his handsome face to his dragonhide boots, and then he goes silent for a few seconds, staring up at him.

Bill's easy smile falters slightly, and then he puts out his hand for Harry to shake it.

Harry feels the callouses of Bill's hand under his own, and he swallows hard before saying awkwardly, "You're, uh, you're tall." He coughs, letting Bill's hand go. "Tall."

"Come in, Celia," Sirius says, poking his head in from the dining room, and Celia and Bill follow him into the next room. Lindon lingers for a second as Hermione follows them out of sight, and then he gently pats Harry's upper back, leaning in closer.

"If he were available to the likes of us, Harry, I'd have already had him." Lindon pats Harry's head, and Harry lets out a sigh as he follows the historian into the next room, doing his best not to look too disappointed. Maybe Harry's a bit too young for Bill, anyway - for now, at least. Cecilia immediately begins talking urgently with Bill, spreading out a set of complex looking diagrams on the table: Lindon stands beside her, pointing out certain parts and explaining them in complex, numerical terms Harry mostly doesn't understand.

Within the next few minutes more people begin to arrive - Dora Tonks manages to trip over the threshold into the dining hall, falling into the arms of Celia, who easily pulls her up again; Kingsley Shacklebolt steps in with a horribly disfigured man limping by his side; Remus walks in followed soon after by Snape; Dedalus Diggle all but propels himself into the room with a beam on his face; Percy Weasley, to his obvious distaste, is accompanied inside by a filthy man who introduces himself as Mundungus Fletcher. As more people enter the room, Ron, Ginny and the Weasley twins are ushered out of the room, followed soon after by Draco - Harry refuses to leave, and when Mrs Weasley tries to push the issue, Sirius stands between him and Hermione and insists they'll stay if they want to.

Harry's grateful for it, though he feels more than out of place as they all begin to sit down at the long dining table. Harry sits beside Lucius with Hermione on his other side: across from them, the disfigured man is staring at Harry with a focus heavily assisted by his artificial eye. "Can I help you?" Harry asks after a few minutes, and the man lets out a hoarse, ugly little laugh.

"Got your dad's cheek, haven't you, Potter?" The man laughs a little more, and then suddenly turns serious. "I'm Alastor Moody."

"Mad-Eye Moody," Lucius supplies from Harry's left, and the ex-Auror slams his broad, scarred hand on the table, glaring at Lucius with a scowl on his face. "Oh, do forgive me, Alastor. Am I not permitted to speak?" Mad-Eye goes for his wand, but behind him Remus grabs his wrist, stopping him short. Lucius' lip is twitching into a smirk, and Harry glances at Hermione for help.

He recognizes the name of Mad-Eye Moody, of course - he'd been utterly notorious during the First War, and there'd been a whole chapter on his defensive methods in Celia's book about the Dark Arts, but he hadn't really been prepared for the man's odd demeanour. He constantly glares between the Malfoys and Snape, and Harry receives a not dissimilar stare every now and then. He doesn't seem capable of holding a smile for more than about four seconds at a time, and constantly has a scowl on his ugly face.

Remus points out the other strangers to Harry - Mundungus Fletcher is something of a career criminal, Hestia Jones and Sturgis Podmore are both accountants, and Emmeline Vance is apparently an Auror. The room becomes more and more crowded, and the sound of their chatter becomes louder as Harry and Hermione keep silent, looking around the room with interest.

Lindon is in deep conversation with Sturgis Podmore, leaning a little closer to the man than is really proper, and Harry's a little distracted by it until the door to the dining hall closes with a strangely loud click of sound. Harry looks to Dumbledore as he enters the room, flanked by Arthur Weasley. Arthur quickly runs to sit down next to Molly at the other side of the room, and Dumbledore stands silently at the end of the table, his blue eyes scanning the room.

They settle on Harry before they narrow slightly, and Harry offers him the most winning smile he can manage. Hermione does the same beside him, obvious hopeful, but he doesn't ask them to leave. In fact, their presence seems to amuse the old man somehow, because he gives a tiny nod of his head before he finishes looking around the table.

"You have each been gathered here," Dumbledore says quietly as he sets his hands absently on the end of the long table, "to become members - or, indeed, to renew your membership - of an old order. The Order of the Phoenix is a society that was originally founded during the First War, in order to fight Lord Voldemort and his followers. With Azkaban destroyed, we can expect him to soon return: we require the Order once more."

"Is that why we're including enemies in our little gatherings, now?" Moody demands with a flick of his thumb at Lucius. Despite everyone staring at him, the man is unflinching, and Narcissa's expression remains equally blank. Harry glances to Snape, who looks to be bored with the evening's proceedings, and then back to Narcissa as she starts to talk.

"By all means, Mr Moody," Narcissa says archly, "Refuse the assistance we're forced to give you if you please - we hardly wish to be involved." Moody and Lucius both open their mouths to join the conversation at the same time, but Dumbledore lightly taps on the table with his knuckles to interrupt them. The quiet sound seems to ring in the full dining room.

"Mr and Mrs Malfoy," Dumbledore breaks in, "are currently being housed here at Grimmauld Place. It was Narcissa's handwriting you read on the slip of paper that told you of this address: please treat them with respect." Moody looks like "respect" should be redefined as a weapon with a lot of sharp edges, but he does go quiet again, crossing his arms over his chest. "You have each been invited to join the Order of the Phoenix - those of you, of course, who have reached the age of seventeen."

Tonks lets out a quiet chuckle as Harry frowns. Dumbledore smiles, and says, "If you would leave us, Mr Potter, Ms Granger..."

"No offence," Harry says, "But I've already faced Voldemort twice, and Hermione's helped in the latter endeavour. How many of the rest of you can say the same? I know Percy and Tonks have never looked him in the face before." Moody starts to laugh, and there's whispering around the room - Mrs Weasley looks horrified, and Harry can see the new people bickering quietly with others around the table. "I've faced Voldemort, and I've faced a Basilisk, too. I'm not just a random kid - I'm part of this fight whether I like it or not."

"The boy's right," Moody says. "Let him stay."

"He's a child," Mrs Weasley protests. "Who next, Albus? Our children?" Harry tries not to be annoyed with her - he can see that she's upset and anxious for him, but he doesn't want to leave.

"I'm not your child though, Mrs Weasley," Harry says. "I'm an orphan because of Lord Voldemort, and that should be reason enough for me to be allowed to stay."

"I give him my full support," Sirius says, crossing his arms over his chest, and Remus gives a reluctant nod of his own head.

"Put it to a vote, sir," Remus suggests, and Dumbledore gives a nod of his head.

"Those in favour of allowing Mr Potter-"

"And Hermione," Harry says. Hermione gives him a small smile,

"Those in favour of allowing Mr Potter and Ms Granger to stay, please raise your hands." Harry and Hermione both look around the room, watching the hands raise. "And those opposed?" Mrs Weasley, Percy, Lucius and Narcissa each raise their hands, but they're the only ones to, and Harry allows himself a tight smile as Dumbledore seems to accept this. "Let us begin, then," Dumbledore says, and he begins to talk.

---

The Order of the Phoenix's meeting is not nearly as interesting as Harry had expected it to be. It's dull, tiresome, and involves a lot of discussion of things that don't seem to directly be related to any expected return of Lord Voldemort - Cecilia presents an analysis of historic headquarters for the Death Eaters and the Order discusses where the Death Eaters might gather on a map of he UK, which Harry doesn't get, because they all know the Death Eaters are at Malfoy Manor. And then there's a big discussion about potential ward structures for protected places, where Lucius, Lindon, Dumbledore and an elderly gentleman called Elphias Doge speak for everyone else, as barely anyone else seems to have the same comprehension of the subject. And, finally, Dumbledore takes a list of duties - none of which Harry or Hermione can contribute to, anyway.

"Other members will be joining us in the next few days," Dumbledore says quietly, "We will engage another meeting in a week's time."

"Who else is joining?" asks Tonks, leaning forwards in her seat. "I know Mum and Dad are joining up, but who else?"

"Oh, a few people here and there," Dumbledore answers with a slight shrug of his shoulders and a small wave of his hand. Everyone splits into quiet conversation - Snape and Lucius begin to talk together, and Narcissa gets into a complex discussion with Hestia Jones that sounds to Harry like it's about different sort of silk. Hermione abandons him to talk to Bill and Celia about cursebreaking, talking animatedly on the subject and asking dozens of questions, and Moody seems to have backed Lindon into a wall, threatening the historian with a severe expression on his features.

"I'm gonna head to bed," Harry says to Sirius. His godfather had been settled alone at the table, still, looking faraway, and now he looks at Harry with raised eyebrows, having been drawn suddenly out of his reverie. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just fine," Sirius says, giving a shake of his head, and then he says quietly, "The last time me and Remus sat down for an Order meeting, James and Lily were just across from us. That's all."

"Sorry," Harry murmurs, and Sirius shoots him a tired smile, patting the side of his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. Good job on joining the ranks, eh?" Sirius winks at him, and Harry gives a little smile in return."Have a good sleep, Harry."

"Cheers, Sirius, you too." Harry heads out of the room, closing the door behind him, but as soon as he's halfway up the stairs George grabs him around the middle, hauling him up and into the room directly above the dining room, where Draco had pulled out a floorboard to try and get a good listen to the room below. Judging by the frenzied, curious expressions of the twins, Ron, Ginny and Draco, they hadn't been all that successful. "Look, I'm not saying anything," Harry says firmly, shaking his head. "If your parents won't let you join up, it's not my fault."

"Oh, Harry, come on," Ginny complains, but Harry repeats his firm head shake, and he leaves the room. George follows after him, closing the door behind them.

"You gonna tell us tomorrow?" he asks, arching one of his eyebrows, and Harry nods his head.

"Yeah," Harry promises. "Me and Hermione will fill you in - if we volunteer to get rid of the Puffskeins in the yellow room, everyone else will probably leave us be, so we can tell you then."

"Sounds good," George says, grinning at him, and slips back into the room behind him. Harry walks down the corridor and into a room: with a quiet thunk, he drops onto his bed, pressing his face into the pillow. All of a sudden, he's exhausted - he doesn't even bother to change his clothes, just kicking his shoes to the floor, before he falls asleep.

---

"I don't see why we can't join!" Fred says irritably, coaxing a Puffskein into his hands. They're not very difficult animals to deal with - there's a positive infestation of them in the yellow room, named for its hideously ugly wallpaper, and they're usually happy to wander into the hands of whoever reaches for them. It's just that once they get into your arms, they're a bit over-affectionate.

"Because you're not seventeen," Harry replies, catching a Puffskein's long, dexterous tongue with his finger before it can get into Harry's nostril. "Your mum won't have it."

"You reckon we could breed these to be smaller, Fred?" George says distractedly. He's currently balancing eight Puffskeins across his arms, all of whom are emitting a warbling purr as they look lovingly up at his face. "You know, maybe half the size?"

"I suppose," Fred says, glancing at his brother. "You reckon they'd sell?"

"Oh, yeah," George nods his head, and Harry turns away as they begin to get into business conversation. Hermione is absently stroking a Puffskein with her knuckles, peering up at the empty wall as if it's somehow interesting.

"You alright?"

"It's the strangest thing, this wallpaper," Hermione mutters, her gaze scanning across its surface. "It makes me think of other yellow stuff - not buttercups or nice things, but... You know. Horrible, foul things." She scrunches up her nose, shaking her head. "And it smells, too, but I don't know how to describe it - all I could say is that it smells yellow." Harry glances at her perplexedly, but then she shakes her head, turning to look at him. "What did you think of last night?"

Harry sighs. "I dunno. It was- boring."

"You expected it to be more exciting?" Hermione asks, seeming a little amused.

"Yeah," Harry says, and she chuckles, setting the Puffskein neatly inside the basket they'd set aside for them. George sets the last of them into the large, wicker basket, and Fred lifts it up, bringing it down the stairs and down into the kitchen. "Alright, Ron?" Ron is sat in the kitchen with Bill, talking seriously with him, and Bill stands up immediately to help Fred with the Puffskeins.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm alright," Ron says. "Just telling Bill about try-outs this year."

"Lose a Weasley, gain a Weasley," George says fondly, ruffling Ron's hair. "It's getting to be a tradition, Ron, my lad."

"Actually," Ginny says from behind them as she enters the kitchen, "I figured with Percy gone I'd try out for Seeker. Ron's only looking to be a stand-in Keeper if anything happens to Oliver." Fred beams at her, seeming pleased. "So there may well be four of us."

"Well, three and a half," George says as Ron slaps his hand away. "Ronnie won't count as a stand-in."

"Shut up!" Ron says, and Harry glances back as she hears screaming from the hallway. He runs back, getting out his wand to cast Langlock on Mrs Black.

The woman stood on the doorstep has long, chestnut hair tied messily around her head, and her deep lidded eyes narrow as she looks across the room. Mrs Black's curtains have been thrown aside, and she is screeching at the top of her lungs, but when the woman yells, "Oh, shut up, you miserable old hag. There's a reason we're all alive and you're dead," she's shocked into silence, staring at her. The woman spells the curtains closed, and the man behind her gives a little grin.

"Well done, dear," he says genially, and the woman pats his chest affectionately as she steps inside, pulling the door closed behind her. "Is Sirius about?"

"Drom!" says Sirius from the landing, beaming down at her as he makes his way down the stairs, and Harry turns to look at the woman properly.

"Drom?" he repeats. "Andromeda Tonks?"

"Yes," she says lightly. "Yes, that's me." Harry gives a little laugh. He's never seen the woman's face before - he's only ever seen her frantic, curly handwriting spidering over parchment, but he feels like he knows her nonetheless.

"Oh, well, uh, I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

"Oh! Oh, of course you are! Just look at you!" Dromeda laughs, throwing back her head, and Harry acts without even thinking about it - he puts out his arms and hugs the woman tightly. Andromeda seems surprised, but she hugs him back, patting his shoulders as she smiles at him. She's one of the few people who's written him back since he was eleven, and seeing her in person is- it's odd. It's nice, warm, pleasant.

He still has the blanket she sent him in his first year.

"I'm Andromeda, love, and this is Ted. Ted, say hello."

"Hello," Ted says brightly, pushing his glasses up his nose. He and Andromeda are about Narcissa's age, Harry guesses, and Andromeda has pale skin and laughter lines obvious on her face; Ted's hair is parted to the left, and he has warm, friendly features. The both of them are dressed in Muggle clothes, with Andromeda in a surprisingly low-cut blouse and a rather tight skirt.

"Drom!" Sirius says again as he comes towards them, and he hugs her tightly before he looks to Ted. "And you must be the husband who saved her from that family of hers!"

"My knight in argyle socks," Drom agrees fondly, and Sirius shakes Ted's hand, patting his shoulder. "Where are we going, Sirius?"

"To the dining room," he answers, and Harry follows them inside. Harry fixes the Tonks with cups of tea, and he listens as Sirius begins to talk with them - he'd only really dimly realized that Andromeda and Sirius were cousins, and now seeing them chat back and forth it's nice to hear them go.

"Molly!" thunders a loud voice, and Harry turns his head as Lucius stamps into the dining room, dressed in a pair of Sirius' pyjama bottoms and nothing else. His bare feet are obscenely pale, and Harry can't help but stare a little at his chest: Lucius Malfoy has a lot of muscle on him. Harry's never really seen muscled wizards - Fred and George have buff arms, but Lucius Malfoy has thick, corded shoulder muscle and abs. He has visible abs.

"Oh, Lucius, darling," Drom says smoothly. "You needn't have dressed up on my account." Lucius glances at her, then flinches wildly, grabbing for his wand, but she tuts at him. "Andromeda, Lucius. Not Bellatrix." Lucius closes his eyes for a second, pinching his nose and seeming visibly annoyed, but he drops his wand into the pocket of the pyjama trousers as Molly, Bill, Ron and Ginny come into the room.

Harry watches Lucius as he crosses his arms over his chest: the bandage is still over the Dark Mark on his left arm, but above it on the upper arm is a thick, shiny square of skin, burned scar covering the straight edges.

"Merlin's balls, Mr Malfoy," Bill exclaims, giving the older man an unabashed grin. "You look like our Charlie!" Lucius curls his lip, staring at him.

"Pardon, William?" If looks could kill, Harry expects Bill would be in several dozen neat slices right about now.

"He means your muscles," Molly says, who's staring at Lucius' chest like it belongs to an alien. "How on Earth did you ge tlike that?"

"It's a process known as exercise," Lucius mutters with irritation obvious on his face, shaking his head as Dromeda stifles her giggles in Ted's shoulder, "Where are your hellspawn?"

"Arthur's just taken them out with Hermione to buy some groceries," Molly says sweetly. "Why, what have my hellspawn done?"

"They've stolen the contents of mine and Narcissa's wardrobes," he answers icily. "Leaving us without dress."

"Is, uh, is Narcissa undressed too?" Bill asks innocently, and Lucius reaches for his wand again: Harry grabs him by the wrist, stopping whatever horrible hex he's ready to cast on the chuckling cursebreaker. "They'll be back soon. Calm down." Lucius all but snarls in Bill's direction, and he stalks from the room and up the stairs again. Harry watches after him.

"Does he really exercise, d'you think?"

"Oh, does all sorts of little exercises at the crack of dawn, Narcissa used to say," Andromeda says, her lips twitching with amusement. "Good to see they've made a nice difference. You could look like that, Ted."

"I could," Ted says, seeming to weigh up the idea. "But I'd rather have another biscuit." Dromeda slides the plate towards him, and the two of them share a little laugh together.

"What was that he said?" Harry asks, turning back to them. "About Bellatrix?"

"Oh, we look rather similar, that's all," Andromeda says with a sigh. "Shame, really. She rather takes away from my brand." Harry laughs a little despite himself, and he listens carefully as they all set into conversation again. Harry can't help but enjoy the people who're beginning to come in and out of Grimmauld Place - it's exciting.

He just hopes the excitement will continue for the rest of the summer, especially in Order meetings.