Dysfunctional

58 - Fighting the Fight

"I'll need at least a week's time to get you inside. In the meantime, I suggest you stick close to Hestia who'll let you know when you can officially join, alright?"

Gwen was grinning. "Understood, Sirius."

Sirius looked between her and Gwen before he turned to leave. He had reached the door, when he turned around and regarded Hestia with a frown.

Hestia felt anxious when Sirius looked like he wanted to say something to her. With Gwen beside her, the last thing Hestia wanted was for him to want to talk about anything that could hint at that night.

Sirius must have been thinking along the same vein, for he glanced furtively at Gwen before seemingly making up his mind. He instead said to Hestia, "The meeting is tomorrow at eight. Don't be late."

It was a redundant statement and they both knew it - Hestia knew the Order's schedule for the entire week, even though she had not been to the previous meeting. The only reason he could have done it, was perhaps to convey to her that she ought to quit her uninformed absence.

Flushing at his subtle jab, Hestia nodded and watched him leave. She wondered again what Sirius would have wanted to say if Gwen hadn't been around. Did he wish to apologize? Promise her it won't happen again?

She heard a great sigh from beside her and Hestia was shaken out of her musing. She turned towards the sound, slightly taken aback. Having momentarily forgotten about Gwen, she immediately schooled her features to one of mild curiosity. She needn't have put on a face however - Gwen was beaming radiantly and thoroughly distracted.

"Oh, Sirius," Gwen sighed softly. Hestia pursed her lips - she was dimly aware that Gwen was likely seeing him perfectly healthy since probably the last year they had met in Slughorn's party. Granted, she knew Sirius actually looked worse for the wear since his godson went missing. But still, he must look loads better to Gwen.

Gwen shook her head wistfully before she beamed at Hestia and did a sort of pirouette in delight. Her eyes rested on the newspaper that Hestia had been reading that evening. She grinned at the paper, before letting out a breathless laugh.

"'Undesirable No. 1'," she quoted from the paper, shaking her head. Gwen picked up the quill lying beside the paper and scratched out the first two letters, giggling. Hestia shut her eyes and sighed in exasperation. Oh, she knew exactly what was going on in Gwen's head right that moment. And she didn't fancy any of it.

oOo

The nip in the air brought with it a welcome change in the small shack, sitting atop the rock in the middle of the sea. Since the incident involving Harry's nightmare, Demelza and Harry were not going at each other's throats every hour but had instead learned to be quite pleasant to one another. Harry was aware that the change had started with him - he had been courteous with Demelza in a show of gratitude the morning after and she had returned his politeness in equal measure. Perhaps the problem had been with him after all? The realization did not make him terribly proud of himself.

Suffice it to say, he almost liked the way they could spend hours talking about things unrelated to the war in general. Bored by the long spells of idleness, Harry lazily practiced his charms waving his wand wordlessly. While it fascinated Demelza, it also drove her up the wall. She still refused to do magic, even after he had repeatedly insisted it was safe.