"Your — ?"
"My dear old mum, yeah," said Sirius. "We've been trying to get her down for a month but we think she put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of the canvas. Let's get downstairs, quick, before they all wake up again."
"But what's a portrait of your mother doing here?" Harry asked, bewildered, as they went through the door from the hall and led the way down a flight of narrow stone steps, the others just behind them.
"Hasn't anyone told you? This was my parents' house," said Sirius. "But I'm the last Black left, as everyone thinks Elara's dead, so it's mine now. I offered it to Dumbledore for headquarters — about the only useful thing I've been able to do."
Aurora, who had expected a better welcome, noted how hard and bitter Sirius's voice sounded. From the reaction of the woman, Aurora wondered just how badly he got along with his family. Aurora followed her uncle to the bottom of the stairs and through a door leading into the basement kitchen.
It was scarcely less gloomy than the hall above, a cavernous room with rough stone walls. Most of the light was coming from a large fire at the far end of the room. A haze of pipe smoke hung in the air like battle fumes, through which loomed the menacing shapes of heavy iron pots and pans hanging from the dark ceiling. Many chairs had been crammed into the room for the meeting and a long wooden table stood in the middle of the room, littered with rolls of parchment, goblets, empty wine bottles, and a heap of what appeared to be rags. Mr. Weasley and his eldest son, Bill, were talking quietly with their heads together at the end of the table.
Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat. Her husband, a thin, balding, red-haired man, who wore horn-rimmed glasses, looked around and jumped to his feet.
"Harry! Aurora!" Mr. Weasley said, hurrying forward to greet them and shaking their hands vigorously. "Good to see you!"
Over her shoulder Aurora saw Bill, who still wore his long hair in a ponytail, hastily rolling up the lengths of parchment left on the table.
"Journey all right, Harry?" Bill called, trying to gather up twelve scrolls at once. "Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, then?"
"He tried," said Tonks, striding over to help Bill and immediately sending a candle toppling onto the last piece of parchment. "Oh no — sorry —"
"Here, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, sounding exasperated, and she repaired the parchment with a wave of her wand: In the flash of light caused by Mrs. Weasley's charm, Aurora caught a glimpse of what looked like the plan of a building.
Mrs. Weasley had seen him looking. She snatched the plan off the table and stuffed it into Bill's heavily laden arms.
"This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings," she snapped before sweeping off toward an ancient dresser from which she started unloading dinner plates. Bill took out his wand, muttered "Evanesco!" and the scrolls vanished.
"Sit down, you two," said Sirius. "You've met Mundungus, haven't you?"
The thing Aurora had taken to be a pile of rags gave a prolonged, grunting snore and then jerked awake.
"Some'n say m' name?" Mundungus mumbled sleepily. "I 'gree with Sirius. . . ."
He raised a very grubby hand in the air as though voting, his droopy, bloodshot eyes unfocused. Ginny giggled.
"The meeting's over, Dung," said Sirius, as they all sat down around him at the table. "Harry and Aura's arrived."
"Eh?" said Mundungus, peering balefully at Harry through his matted ginger hair. "Blimey, so 'e 'as. Yeah . . . you all right, 'arry?"
YOU ARE READING
The Other Black Book 5
FanfictionWith the Ministry of Magic actively denying Voldemort's return, and Voldemort doing nothing to open their eyes, Aurora found her summer very boring. With nothing to do for months on end, there were times when Aurora felt like she was going to go sti...