Chapter 19: Trouble Afoot

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Disclaimer: Did anyone ever shut Walburga Black up? If not, I don't own the Harry Potter franchise; it belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros., and whoever else she sold the rights to.
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The time Harry chose to come down the stairs was just right to overhear the tail end of Hermione's and Molly's argument. "Now you look here, young lady, I will not let you go around dressed like some hussy! Go and change into something respectable, or you won't be welcome in this house!"

"You look here, Molly Weasley," Hermione said, her voice loud enough to be heard even over Walburga's vitriol. "I already have a mother, and I am certainly not searching for a replacement. Never presume to act like I am your child; you have enough trouble with your own brood without begging for more! I will wear what I want with or without your approval, so do all of us a favor and keep your unsolicited opinions to yourself. And don't think you can threaten to throw me out. This is Sirius's house, not yours. If this is how you've been acting the entire time you've been his guest, I'm not certain how he's kept from tossing you right out the door!"

"My personal theory is that Azkaban somehow gave him the patience of a saint," he said as he stepped into the hall. "Not sure it makes up for twelve years of illegal incarceration, but it's a start."

He took a look at what had set Molly off only to sigh in disappointment. The short blouse and tight jeans were nothing that would get a second glance in the Muggle world, but for the old-fashioned magicals, the thin strip of bronzed belly on display was the height of indecency. "Bloody Victorians."

Hermione smirked at his comment. Turning to the stairwell, she called, "Will someone shut that racket off?!"

"Very polite. First time she comes into my house, and she's already making demands. I'm telling you, Moony, kids these days have no respect!" A moment later the screeching stopped, and Sirius became visible. "Hey there, Hermione. Now I see how he fell for your wicked charms." A lecherous grin accompanied his wolf-whistle.

"Oi, hairball, enough of that. She's way too young for you." Shaking his head at his godfather's antics — he had seen Sirius 'flirting' with Tonks enough to figure out that the dog only acted like a dirty old man for personal amusement — he motioned towards the unruly painting. "Why don't you just silence her?"

"We've already tried that, trust me. She made sure her portrait was protected from any spells we might want to put on her. If she hadn't, I'd have gotten rid of her long ago."

Hermione nibbled on her lip as she thought. "Assuming you don't want to risk triggering any defenses she may have placed before she died by removing it, have you tried silencing the area around her? That wouldn't be casting magic on it directly, after all."

Sirius stared at her in awe. Not saying a word, he walked back to his mother's painting and followed Hermione's suggestion, then tested it by kicking a portion of the frame that was peeking from behind the drapes. The raggedy curtains flared open once more, but while they could all see Walburga's mouth moving and spittle flying around, there was no sound. "Not bad."

"Sirius!" Molly screamed. From the volume, she either hadn't noticed that the portrait was quiet or didn't care. Harry personally suspected it was the latter. "Since everyone insists you take charge of what goes on in this house, tell her to put on some proper clothes."

The Animagus looked Hermione over once again, then shrugged. "I know nothing about modern Muggle fashion. Is this considered decent?"

"It wouldn't be out of place, I don't think," Harry said.

"In some places, it would even be overly modest," added the brunette. "I normally wear clothes like this during the summers."

The Weasley matriarch purpled in rage, eerily reminiscent of the late Vernon Dursley. "You have never worn anything so... so... unseemly any time I saw you!"

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