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"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. Este rolled her eyes, if this was who was going to be saving them from doom, there wasn't much hope.
"Hasn't anyone told you? This was my parents' house," said Sirius. "Este inherited the house from my mother and they were so kind to let us use it as the Headquarters for the Order."
"I'm a philanthropist," Este grumbled going to the kitchen. Many chairs had been crammed into the room for the meeting and a long wooden table stood in the middle of them, littered with rolls of parchment, goblets, empty wine bottles, and a heap of what appeared to be ragged. Mr. Weasley and his eldest son Bill were talking quietly with their heads together at the end of the table.
Este enjoyed most of the food, one helping of rhubarb crumble and custard later. As she laid down her spoon there was a lull in the general conversation. Mr. Weasley was leaning back in his chair, looking replete and relaxed, Tonks was yawning widely, her nose now back to normal, and Ginny, who had lured Crookshanks out from under the dresser, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolling Butterbeer corks for him to chase. "Nearly time for bed, I think," said Mrs. Weasley with a yawn.
"Not just yet, Molly," said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."
The atmosphere in the room changed with the rapidity Este associated with the arrival of dementors. Where seconds before it had been sleepily relaxed, it was now alert, even tense. A frisson had gone around the table at the mention of Voldemort's name. Lupin, who had been about to take a sip of wine, lowered his goblet slowly, looking wary.
"I did!" said Harry indignantly. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so──"
"And they're quite right," said Mrs. Weasley. "You're too young," She was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched and its arms, every trace of drowsiness gone.
"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" asked Sirius. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happening──"
