Raised By A Killer // Harry Potter FanFic //

Caught Out

"Sirius!" I hear Harry say as I come down the stairs towards the common room.

"Shh shh, Harry, no one is to know I'm talking to you," a voice says and I stop walking and hide behind the door, knowing in my guts this wasn't normal.

"Yes, of course. Sirius, what has been happening at the Order of the Pheonix?" Harry asks and I wonder, what is the Order of the Pheonix?

"It's all good, all good. I'm not supposed to tell you anything though, I'm sorry."

"That's okay," says Harry. "Sirius, we have a horrible teacher who won't teach us defence against the dark arts. We are thinking of practising in a small group and hopefully Umbridge won't find out. What do you think?"

"Well I think it's a brilliant idea!" Says the voice of Sirius. I can't help but feel a bit proud that it was my idea. "Say Harry, how is Trista doing?"

This question stops me from walking around the corner like I was about to.

"She's fine. Do you think we should tell her about the Order? Hermione thinks not."

"No don't tell her. I don't want her knowing any information. Do you hear me?"

"Yes," says Harry.

"Okay very good. I don't want her to get involved in anything dangerous." The voice says.

"Sirius, why not?" Hermione asks.

"I can't say, just trust me on this. I know you think her Mothers evil, she is, but please, Trista is different."

"Why?" Asks Harry.

"Someone's coming, I've got to go Harry, goodbye."

"Sirius!" I hear Harry shout whisper. But there's no reply.

I run back upstairs, it was past ten o'clock and it was the night before Quidditch tryouts. I had come down to see why Hermione wasn't in bed yet and instead find out that my only friends have been lying to me about some Order thing. What even was it? It didn't make sense.

My knuckles were turning white from my hands being held in tight fists as I lie on my bed. I think about the words that were scared on my arm. I must contain my anger, I must contain my anger. I sit up, anger was soaring through my veins, making me shake.

Hermione comes up the stairs and sees me shaking. She runs over and tries to put a hand around my shoulders. I shrug it off hastily. A flash of hurt crosses Hermione's face, and I regret it for a second before remembering why I was like this.

"What is the Order of the Phoenix?" I ask and Hermione's lips part for second before they seal shut again.

"I'm sorry Trista, I can't say," she says.

"Why not?!" I ask standing up. "Why can't you tell me?"

"Trista shhhh!" Hermione says looking around the room at the others who were asleep.

"Have you been lying to me about something? Who were you talking too?" I ask quietly.

"Trust me, we wish we could tell you but Sirius doesn't want us too," Hermione says.

"Who is he? Serious? How does he know me, why does he think my Mum is evil? Why do you think she's evil?" I question.