it was scarcely less gloomy than the hall above, a cavernous room with rough stone walls. most of the light was coming from a large fire at the far end of the room. a haze of pipe smoke hung in the air like battle fumes, through which loomed the menacing shapes of heavy iron pots and pans hanging from the dark ceiling. many chairs had been crammed into the room for the meeting and a long wooden table stood in the middle of the room, littered with rolls of parchment, goblets, empty wine bottles, and a heap of what appeared to be rags. mr. weasley and his eldest son, bill, were talking quietly with their heads together at the end of the table.

mrs. weasley cleared her throat. her husband, a thin, balding, red-haired man, who wore horn-rimmed glasses, looked around and jumped to his feet.

"harry!" mr. weasley said, hurrying forward to greet him and shaking his hand vigorously. "good to see you!"

elara saw bill, who was still wearing his long hair in a ponytail, hastily rolling up the lengths of parchment left on the table. "journey all right, harry?" bill called, trying to gather up twelve scrolls at once. "mad-eye didn't make you come via greenland, then?"

"he tried," said nymphie, striding over to help bill and immediately sending a candle toppling onto the last piece of parchment. "oh no — sorry —"

elara sniggered.

"here, dear," said mrs. weasley, sounding exasperated, and she repaired the parchment with a wave of her wand: in the flash of light caused by mrs. weasley's charm, elara caught a glimpse of what looked like the plan of a building.

mrs. weasley had seen her looking. she snatched the plan off the table and stuffed it into bill's heavily laden arms.

"this sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings," she snapped before sweeping off toward an ancient dresser from which she started unloading dinner plates.

bill took out his wand, muttered "evanesco!" and the scrolls vanished.

"sit down, harry, lara," said sirius. "you've met mundungus, haven't you, harry?"

the thing elara had taken to be a pile of rags gave a prolonged, grunting snore and then jerked awake.

"some'n say m' name?" mundungus mumbled sleepily. "i 'gree with sirius. . . ."

he raised a very grubby hand in the air as though voting, his droopy, bloodshot eyes unfocused. ginny and elara laughed.

"the meeting's over, dung," said sirius, as they all sat down around him at the table. "harry's arrived."

"eh?" said mundungus, peering balefully at harry through his matted ginger hair. "blimey, so 'e 'as. yeah . . . you all right, 'arry?"

"yeah," said harry.

mundungus fumbled nervously in his pockets, still staring at harry, and pulled out a grimy black pipe. he stuck it in his mouth, ignited the end of it with his wand, and took a deep pull on it. great billowing clouds of greenish smoke obscured him in seconds.

"owe you a 'pology," grunted a voice from the middle of the smelly cloud.

"For the last time, Mundungus," called Mrs. Weasley, "will you please not smoke that thing in the kitchen, especially not when we're about to eat!"

"ah," said mundungus. "right. sorry, molly."

the cloud of smoke vanished as mundungus stowed his pipe back in his pocket, but an acrid smell of burning socks lingered.

"and if you want dinner before midnight i'll need a hand," mrs. weasley said to the room at large. "no, you can stay where you are, harry dear, you've had a long journey. you too, lara. last time didn't go so well —"

"what can i do, molly?" said nymphie enthusiastically, bounding forward.

mrs. weasley hesitated, looking apprehensive.

"er — no, it's all right, tonks, you have a rest too, you've done enough today —"

"no, no, i want to help!" said nymphie brightly, knocking over a chair as she hurried toward the dresser from which ginny was collecting cutlery.

soon a series of heavy knives were chopping meat and vegetables of their own accord, supervised by mr. weasley, while mrs. weasley stirred a cauldron dangling over the fire and the others took out plates, more goblets, and food from the pantry. elara was left at the table with harry, sirius, and mundungus, who was still blinking mournfully at harry.

"what happened last time?" said harry to elara curiously.

"ah," said elara ruefully. "my dreams — or visions, you could call them — have started to happen when i'm awake. i start zoning out. if i'm holding something, i'll drop it. last time i helped, no one was used to me having my fainting spells yet. i was holding a great big knife, dropped it, almost stabbed my foot, and passed out."

"does that happen a lot?"

"yes," said sirius and mundungus at once. they were both all too familiar with the aspect of diving to catch elara before she hit the ground.

"seen old figgy since?" mundungus asked harry.

"no," said harry, "i haven't seen anyone."

"see, i wouldn't 'ave left," said mundungus, leaning forward, a pleading note in his voice, "but i 'ad a business opportunity —" elara felt something brush against her knees and started, but it was only crookshanks, hermione's bandy-legged ginger cat, who wound himself once around elara's legs, purring, then jumped onto sirius's lap and curled up. sirius scratched him absentmindedly behind the ears as he turned, still grim-faced, to harry.

"had a good summer so far?"

"no, it's been lousy," said harry.

for the first time, something like a grin flitted across sirius's face. "don't know what you're complaining about, myself."

"what?" said harry incredulously.

"personally, i'd have welcomed a dementor attack. a deadly struggle for my soul would have broken the monotony nicely. you think you've had it bad, at least you've been able to get out and about, stretch your legs, get into a few fights. . . . i've been stuck inside for a month."

"how come?" asked harry, frowning.

"because the ministry of magic's still after me, and voldemort will know all about me being an animagus by now, wormtail will have told him, so my big disguise is useless. there's not much i can do for the order of the phoenix . . . or so dumbledore feels."

there was something about the slightly flattened tone of voice in which sirius uttered dumbledore's name that told elara that sirius was not very happy with the headmaster either. elara was glad she wasn't the only one.

"at least you've known what's been going on," harry said bracingly.

"oh yeah," said sirius sarcastically. "listening to snape's reports, having to take all his snide hints that he's out there risking his life while i'm sat on my backside here having a nice comfortable time . . . asking me how the cleaning's going —"

"what cleaning?" asked harry.

"trying to make this place fit for human habitation," said sirius, waving a hand around the dismal kitchen. "no one's lived here for ten years, not since my dear mother died, unless you count her old house-elf, and he's gone round the twist, hasn't cleaned anything in ages —"

"sirius?" said mundungus, who did not appear to have paid any attention to this conversation, but had been minutely examining an empty goblet. "this solid silver, mate?"

"yes," said sirius, surveying it with distaste. "finest fifteenth-century goblin-wrought silver, embossed with the black family crest."

"that'd come off, though," muttered mundungus, polishing it with his cuff.

"fred — george — NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" mrs. weasley shrieked.

harry, elara, sirius, and mundungus looked around and, a split second later, dived away from the table. fred and george had bewitched a large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of butterbeer, and a heavy wooden breadboard, complete with knife, to hurtle through the air toward elara. the stew skidded the length of the table and came to a halt just before the end, leaving a long black burn on the wooden surface, the flagon of butterbeer fell with a crash, spilling its contents everywhere, and the bread knife slipped off the board and landed, point down and quivering ominously, right next to elara's head had been.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" screamed mrs. weasley. "THERE WAS NO NEED — I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS — JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW YOUDON'T HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING! YOU COULD HAVE SERIOUSLY INJURED HER, AND THE POOR CHILD DOESN'T NEED MORE TROUBLE!"

"we were just trying to save a bit of time!" said fred, hurrying forward and wrenching the bread knife out of the wall. "sorry lara — didn't mean to —"

but elara, harry, and sirius were both laughing. mundungus, who had toppled backward off his chair, was swearing as he got to his feet. crookshanks had given an angry hiss and shot off under the dresser, from whence his large yellow eyes glowed in the darkness.

"boys," mr. weasley said, lifting the stew back into the middle ofthe table, "your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now you've come of age —"

"— none of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!" mrs. weasley raged at the twins, slamming a fresh flagon of butterbeer onto the table and spilling almost as much again. "bill didn't feel the need to apparate every few feet! charlie didn't charm everything he met! percy —"

she stopped dead, catching her breath with a frightened look at her husband, whose expression was suddenly wooden.

"let's eat," said bill quickly.

"it looks wonderful, molly," said lupin, ladling stew onto a plate for her and handing it across the table.

for a few minutes there was silence but for the chink of plates and cutlery and the scraping of chairs as everyone settled down to their food. then the table burst to life. elara and nymphie kept entertaining ginny and hermoine by changing their noses. it soon became a competition.

elara's nose swelled to a beaklike protuberance like snape's. nymphie's shrank to something resembling a button mushroom. elara then sprouted a great deal of hair from each nostril. after awhile, ginny and hermione began requesting their favorite noses.

"do that one like a pig snout, tonks . . ."

"ooh, and the one like a duck, lara. . ."

they obliged, turning their noses into those of the ones requested. three helpings of rhubarb crumble and custard later and elara was feeling awfully sleepy. she lay down her spoon in a lull in the general conversation. mr. weasley was leaning back in his chair, looking replete and relaxed, nymph was yawning widely, her nose now back to normal, and ginny, who had lured crookshanks out from under the dresser, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolling butterbeer corks for him to chase.

"nearly time for bed, i think," said mrs. weasley on a yawn.

"not just yet, molly," said sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at harry. "you know, i'm surprised at you. i thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about voldemort."

the atmosphere in the room changed rapidly. where seconds before it had been sleepily relaxed, it was now alert, even tense. a frisson had gone around the table at the mention of voldemort's name. lupin, who had been about to take a sip of wine, lowered his goblet slowly, looking wary.

"i did!" said harry indignantly. "i asked ron and hermione but they said we're not allowed in the order, but lara kind of is, so —"

"and they're quite right," said mrs. weasley. "you're too young."

she was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched upon its arms, every trace of drowsiness gone.

"but lara --"

"since when did someone have to be in the order of the phoenix to ask questions?" asked sirius. "harry's been trapped in that muggle house for a month. he's got the right to know what's been happen —"

"hang on!" interrupted aurora loudly.

"how come harry gets his questions answered?" said fred angrily.

"we've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!" said george.

" 'you're too young, you're not in the order,' " said fred, in a high-pitched voice that sounded uncannily like his mother's. "harry's not even of age -- and neither is lara!"

"it's not my fault you haven't been told what the order's doing," said sirius calmly. "that's your parents' decision. lara is different, you know that. harry, on the other hand —"

"it's not down to you to decide what's good for harry!" said mrs. weasley sharply. her normally kindly face looked dangerous. "you haven't forgotten what dumbledore said, i suppose?"

"which bit?" sirius asked politely, but with an air as though readying himself for a fight.

"the bit about not telling harry more than he needs to know," said mrs. weasley, placing a heavy emphasis on the last three words.

elara, harry, ron, hermione, fred, and george's heads turned from sirius to mrs. weasley as though following a tennis rally. ginny was kneeling amid a pile of abandoned butterbeer corks, watching the conversation with her mouth slightly open. lupin's eyes were fixed on sirius.

"i don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know, molly," said sirius. "but as he was one of the ones who saw voldemort come back. he has more right than most to —"

"he's not a member of the order of the phoenix!" said mrs. weasley. "he's only fifteen and —"

"— and the same age as elara. not to mention, he's dealt with as much as most in the order," said sirius, "and more than some —"

"no one's denying what he's done!" said mrs. weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. "but he's still —"

"he's not a child!" said sirius impatiently.

"he's not an adult either!" said mrs. weasley, the color rising in her cheeks. "he's not james, sirius!"

"i'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, molly," said sirius coldly.

"i'm not sure you are!" said mrs. weasley. "sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"

"what's wrong with that?" said harry.

"what's wrong, harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!" said mrs. weasley, her eyes still boring into sirius. "you are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"

"meaning i'm an irresponsible godfather?" demanded sirius, his voice rising.

"meaning you've been known to act rashly, sirius, which is why dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and —"

"we'll leave my instructions from dumbledore out of this if you please!" said sirius loudly.

"arthur!" said mrs. weasley, rounding on her husband. "arthur, back me up!"

mr. weasley did not speak at once. he took off his glasses and cleaned them slowly on his robes, not looking at his wife. only when he had replaced them carefully on his nose did he say, "dumbledore knows the position has changed, molly. he accepts that harry will have to be filled in to a certain extent now that he is staying at headquarters —"

"yes, but there's a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!"

"personally," said professor lupin quietly, looking away from sirius at last, as mrs. weasley turned quickly to him, hopeful that finally she was about to get an ally, "i think it better that harry gets the facts — not all the facts, molly, but the general picture — from us, rather than a garbled version from . . . others."

"well," said mrs. weasley, breathing deeply and looking around the table for support that did not come, "well . . . i can see i'm going to be overruled. i'll just say this: dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has got harry's best interests at heart —"

"he's not your son," said sirius quietly.

"he's as good as," said mrs. weasley fiercely. "who else has he got?"

"he's got me!"

"yes," said mrs. weasley, her lip curling. "the thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in azkaban, hasn't it?"

sirius started to rise from his chair.

"molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about harry," said professor lupin sharply. "sirius, sit down."

mrs. weasley's lower lip was trembling. sirius sank slowly back into his chair, his face white.

"i think harry ought to be allowed a say in this," professor lupin continued. "he's old enough to decide for himself."

"i want to know what's been going on," harry said at once.

"very well," said mrs. weasley, her voice cracking. "ginny — ron — hermione — elara — aurora — fred — george — i want you out of this kitchen, now."

there was instant uproar.

"we're of age!" fred, george, and aurora yelled together.

"i'm already half in the order!"

"if harry's allowed, why can't i?" shouted ron.

"mum, i want to!" wailed ginny.

"NO!" shouted mrs. weasley, standing up, her eyes over-bright. "i absolutely forbid —"

"molly, you can't stop fred, george, and aurora," said mr. weasley wearily. "they are of age —"

"they're still at school —"

"but they're legally adults now," said mr. weasley in the same tiredvoice.