Dark Pasts { A Harry Potter Story }

Chapter 32 - Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place

Heavy rain pelted against the high Georgian windows of the house, drumming out the sound of the fire crackling. My eyes followed a water droplet's trajectory down the glass until it hit the bottom, then I started with another, and another, until, hopefully, some time had passed.

"Woah, leave some of the melodramatic stares into the rain for the rest of us," a voice sounded behind me.

Rolling my eyes, I turned around to see Sirius walking through the doorway of the sitting room before he sat on the sofa.

After only a few moments back home with my dad, it had become evident to me that he was aware of Voldemort's return. He had begun talking about how dangerous it had been to walk outside the last time Voldemort had been powerful. Especially given who he was.

Rosier.

A name forever tainted since the war.

I didn't know much about my family, or precisely what had happened thirteen years ago. All I knew was that the Rosiers had all taken Voldemort's side. Except for my dad. And for that, they had disowned him.

Now, somehow, this past was catching up to us again and, for reasons he did not make all too clear for me, he wished me to stay hidden for the summer at Grimmauld Place.

"Grimmauld Place?" I had repeated. "What's that?"

"The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," he said.

"Right," I said. "And what's that?"

"It's the secret society Dumbledore formed during the war thirteen years ago."

"You were part of that?" I asked curiously.

"Yes, so was Remus, and Sirius . . ."

"And Dumbledore's reformed it?"

"Yes, precisely — "

"And you'll be joining again, won't you?"

My dad's hesitation had immediately confused me. Even now, almost a month later, I didn't understand.

"Listen, things are different this time around," he said. "I have a job at the Ministry that keeps me very busy, and I'm sure Dumbledore and everyone else understands — "

"They understand that your position as an Auror would be a huge advantage!"

"Elizabeth," he said, his tone now tense. "There are things you do not understand."

"Then explain them to me?" I said, but my sarcastic tone did nothing to ease the situation.

Dad took a few steps toward me and grabbed one of my hands. "I will, when you're ready — when I'm ready. But for now, I need you to trust me."

"I do trust you, dad," I said. "But why on earth would you not want to help?"

"Elizabeth — "

"Even at school, people started avoiding Harry because of the lies that Skeeter woman was writing and because of the Ministry's doubt — we need more people to stand against them — and Harry needs to know that there are people who believe him — "

"It's not a question of whether or not I believe what that boy said — "

"But you do, don't you?" I asked angrily.

"Listen to me, Elizabeth," he said softly. "There are two possibilities. Either that boy is lying — Merlin knows why — or he's saying the truth, and You-Know-Who is back — and most likely he is telling the truth, I won't deny that. But either way, that places us in a tricky position. On the one hand, that places us in danger with the Minsitry. On the other hand, that places us in danger with — "