Number Twelve Grimmauld
The grimy fronts of the surrounding houses were not welcoming; some of them had broken windows, glimmering dully in the light from the streetlamps, paint was peeling from many of the doors, and heaps of rubbish lay outside several sets of front steps.
"Where are we?" Harry asked, but Lupin said quietly, "In a minute."
Moody was rummaging in his cloak, his gnarled hands clumsy withcold.
"Got it," he muttered, raising what looked like a silver cigarette lighter into the air and clicking it. The nearest streetlamp went out with a pop. He clicked the unlighter again; the next lamp went out. He kept clicking until every lamp in the square was extinguished and the only light in the square came from curtained windows and the sickle moon overhead.
"Borrowed it from Dumbledore," growled Moody, pocketing the Put-Outer.
"That'll take care of any Muggles looking out of the window, see? Now, come on, quick." He took Harry by the arm and led him from the patch of grass, across the road, and onto the pavement. Lupin and Tonks followed, carrying Harry's trunk between them, therest of the guard, all with their wands out, flanking them. The muffled pounding of a stereo was coming from an upper window in the nearest house. A pungent smell of rotting rubbish came from the pile of bulging bin-bags just inside the broken gate.
"Here," Moody muttered, thrusting a piece of parchment toward Harry's Disillusioned hand and holding his lit wand close to it, so as to illuminate the writing.
"Read quickly and memorize." Harry looked down at the piece of paper. The narrow handwriting was vaguely familiar. It said: The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.
What's the Order of the — ?" Harry began.
"Not here, boy!" snarled Moody.
"Wait till we're inside!" He pulled the piece of parchment out of Harry's hand and set fire to it with his wand-tip. As the message curled into flames and floated to the ground, Harry looked around at thehouses again. They were standing outside number eleven; he looked to the left and saw number ten; to the right, however, was number thirteen.
"But where's — ?"
"Think about what you've just memorized," said Lupin quietly. Harry thought, and no sooner had he reached the part about number twelve, Grimmauld Place, than a battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of its way. Harry gaped at it. The stereo in number eleven thudded on. Apparently the Muggles inside hadn't even felt anything.
"Come on, hurry," growled Moody,prodding Harry in the back.
Harry walked up the worn stone steps, staring at the newly materialized door. Its black paint was shabby and scratched. The silver door knocker was in the form of a twisted serpent. There was no keyhole or letterbox. Lupin pulled out his wand and tapped the door once. Harry heard many loud, metallic clicks and what sounded like the clatter of a chain. The door creaked open.
"Get in quick, Harry," Lupin whispered.
"But don't go far inside and don't touch anything." Harry stepped over the threshold into the almost total darkness of the hall. He could smell damp, dust, and a sweetish, rotting smell; the place had the feeling of a derelict building.
He looked over his shoulder and sawthe others filing in behind him, Lupin and Tonks carrying his trunk and Hedwig's cage. Moody was standing on the top step and releasing the balls of light the Put-Outer had stolen from the streetlamps; they flew back to their bulbs and the square beyond glowed momentarily with orange light before Moody limped inside and closed the front door, so that the darkness in the hall became complete.
"Here —"
He rapped Harry hard over the head with his wand; Harry felt as though something hot was trickling down his back this time and knew that the Disillusionment Charm must have lifted.
"Now stay still, everyone, while I give us a bit of light in here," Moody whispered.
The others' hushed voices were giving Harry an odd feeling of foreboding; it was as though they had just entered the house of a dying person. He heard a soft hissing noise and then old-fashioned gas lamps sputtered into life all along the walls, casting a flickering insubstantial light over the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet of a long, gloomy hallway, where a cobwebby chandelier glimmered overhead and age-blackened portraits hung crooked on the walls. Harry heard something scuttling behind the baseboard. Both the chandelier and the candelabra on a rickety table nearby were shaped like serpents.
There were hurried footsteps and Ron's mother, Mrs. Weasley,emerged from a door at the far end of the hall. She was beaming in welcome as she hurried toward them, though Harry noticed that she was rather thinner and paler than she had been last time he had seen her.
"Oh, Harry, it's lovely to see you!" she whispered, pulling him into a rib-cracking hug before holding him at arm's length and examining him critically. "You're looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid . . ."
She turned to the gang of wizards behind him and whispered urgently, "He's just arrived, the meeting's started . . ."
The wizards behind Harry all made noises of interest and excitement and began filing past Harry toward the door through which Mrs. Weasley had just come; Harry made to follow Lupin, but Mrs. Weasley held him back. "No, Harry, the meeting's only for members of the Order. Ron and Hermione are upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting's over and then we'll have dinner."
"Let him through Molly and get the kids too Dumbledore's orders" Moody growled.
"Oh all right" Mrs Weasley replied with a huff.
By the time Harry was settled in his seat Hermione and all the Weasley kids had come except Ginny.
Dumbledore cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.
"There has been a slight change in plans, turns out that Voldemort has a squib daughter and a very powerful grandson. As it happens, me and Sirius went to meet him today and found out that he was unaware of magic. To keep him away from Voldemort I have decided to enroll him at Hogwarts. Though he is currently seventeen he will be joining the fifth years. I only ask you not to judge him based on his ancestry. Me and Sirius will be leaving immediately to pick him up so he will be here for dinner Molly."
Dumbledore smiled as everyone tried to absorb the information Dumbledore had given.
"Oh of course." Molly was perhaps the only one who was fast to snap out of it.
"What's his name?" Someone asked.
" Perseus Jackson though he prefers Percy." Dumbledore replied .
" You said his mother was a Squib what of his father?" Moody asked his magical eye whizzing in it's socket.
"As far as I know he has never met his father." Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye.
Harry had been silent throughout the meeting only speaking up at that moment "What kind of a person is he?"
Harry was genuinely curious somehow the name itself was comforting to him as though that person would never betray him.
"You'll see for yourself, my boy" Dumbledore replied before he and Sirius apparated to pick up Percy.
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The Grandson of Voldemort
FanfictionPercy Jackson was living his best life with Annabeth when he finds out he has another genocidal grandfather, this time on his mother's side. Now he will have to journey alone to the land of magic armed with the knowledge of magic, courtesy of Hecate...