With Love, || N.B.

𝑭𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒚-𝑺𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏

The kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place was crowded and stuffy with the thick, humid air of an English summer.

"What are we supposed to do?" Sirius asked.

"Well," Nora said, "there's going to be a hearing, but the Ministry doesn't take underage magic lightly."

Narcissa, who paused her conversation with Minerva and Severus, spoke up. "Darling, aren't you on the Wizengamot?"

"I am, but recently Fudge and I have not been on the same page," Nora scoffed. "Unfortunately, though, in Fudge's words, I have, 'too much of a connection to Mr. Potter to not have a bias in this case.'"

Minerva sat up in her chair, a reassuring look on her face. "I don't think Dumbledore would let Mr. Potter ever be expelled from Hogwarts."

"He's always got some kind of trick up his sleeve," Remus said.

With Molly and Narcissa helping Kreacher cook dinner, the topic changed to the Order of the Phoenix.

"He's fifteen," Sirius said. "If he wants to join, he can. He's old enough to make his own decisions."

"I don't know, Sirius," Narcissa sighed. "He's–"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sirius snapped. "Is he your godson? No? Then–"

He was cut off by a group of people in the doorway. Alastor Moody–the real one–stood with Nymphadora Tonks and other members of the Order, and breaking through them was Harry. Just before he could enter the kitchen, Molly Weasley stepped in front of him.

"Dinner's gonna have to wait, Harry," she smiled. "Go on upstairs. Third door on the left. Yep."

__________

A shriek sounded from the hallway and Mrs. Weasley's voice went shrill, "Just because you can use magic now doesn't mean you have to whip your wands out for everything!"

Ignoring the sudden outburst, no doubt caused by Fred and George, Sirius stood up and embraced Harry in a tight hug, patting him on the back.

Mrs. Weasley moved back into the kitchen to accompany Narcissa and Kreacher once again to finish with dinner.

"We're making your favourite tonight, Harry," Sirius said.

"And who on Earth is 'we'?" Narcissa scoffed as she pulled the steak and kidney pies from the oven. "I remember you not being trusted with the oven anymore after last month's incident involving a roast and Buckbeak...Now we have to make sure the back door is locked at all times."

As Sirius began bickering with Narcissa, Nora hugged Harry, "It's wonderful to see you again, love."

"You too, Professor Murphy."

With everyone gathered around the table with heaping servings of dinner on their plates, conversations ensued–all of them leading to the talk of the ministry.

"I don't understand," Harry said. "What does the Ministry of Magic got against me?"

No one wanted to answer.

No one wanted to look at him.

It was dead silent.

"Show him." Alastor Moody's voice was gruff as he stood in the corner leaning on his walking stick. "He'll find out soon enough."

"What? Show me what?" Harry asked.

A newspaper was passed to him by Kingsley and everyone's faces went solemn.

On the front page of the Daily Prophet was the headline:

THE BOY WHO LIES?