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shimotsukiDid pigs start flying? Has the eternal fire of the underworld frozen over?
...Quite possibly, because here is the sixth and final chapter of "All Will Be In Order." I can't say enough thanks to the readers who have let me know they were looking forward to updates, and to beta-readers![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jncar and duck_or_rabbit and honorary beta-reader jobey_in_error for all the insightful and constructive comments, and to hrymfaxe for the amazing Chapter 1 illustration.
This is the end of this story, but the first installment of "Kaleidoscope" will pick up right after this leaves off -- both projects are part of the same ficverse.
All Will Be in Order
When Remus Lupin moves in at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, he must come to terms with Sirius Black and a friendship too long submerged by mistrust, loss, and Azkaban. He must learn to work with Molly Weasley, who seems to be nearly as frightened of werewolves as she is of Voldemort. Clearly, adjustments will have to be made. ( Remus, Sirius, Molly | GoF>OotP | gen )
Chapter 6: A New Order (3970 words | PG/mild profanity)
( 1. The Perfect Flat ) | ( 2. The First Mission ) | ( 3. A Long Summer ) | ( 4. A Few Surprises ) | ( 5. The Full Moon )
-----
( Chapter Index )
All Will Be In Order
6. A New Order
Molly paused outside Tudhope’s Apothecary in Diagon Alley, peering at her crumpled shopping list. There were quite a few things she needed to restock; Sirius had used up rather a lot of supplies in the two days since the full moon, brewing pain potions and bone-knitting elixirs. Not that Molly begrudged Remus those remedies. He was back on decontamination duty now, but he still didn’t look particularly steady on his feet.
Shaking her head, she turned back to her list, wanting to finish her shopping as quickly as she possibly could. The first full meeting of the Order of the Phoenix was scheduled for that afternoon.
And she had something else to do, first.
Arthur still refused to let Percy’s name pass his lips. But last night he’d slipped her a scrap of parchment bearing the address of their son’s new flat, muttering vaguely about having asked around at the Ministry.
Today was Saturday, so Percy would probably be at home. It was all she could do to make herself take care of the shopping before Apparating straight over, but she didn’t want to get there too early, in case he was sleeping late on his day off. He always works so hard, the poor dear...
“Hi, Mrs. Weasley!”
She looked up to see a classmate of Ron’s approaching, with his mother right behind him.
“Hello, Seamus.” Molly smiled. “Are you enjoying your summer holidays?”
“Yeah, I am.” The boy grinned back. “But I’ll be glad to go back to Hogwarts, too. I get tired of not being able to use magic when I’m at home!”
“He never slows down, my Seamus,” Eithne Finnegan said fondly. She ruffled her son’s hair, which made him look pleased and embarrassed at the same time. Then she sighed. “I only hope they get someone competent for Defence this year. Gilderoy Lockhart was a brilliant choice, to be sure, but it’s been downhill ever since. A werewolf and a mad impostor! I don’t know what the school is coming to these days.”
“Mum.” Seamus poked at the ground with the toe of one shoe. “That Moody was a bit scary, maybe, but Professor Lupin was all right.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ve told you. He was a really good teacher, and we all liked him.”
Eithne looked appalled. “I don’t care how friendly he seemed. I simply don’t know what Dumbledore was thinking! No one with any sense would be letting a bloodthirsty monster watch over innocent children!”
Molly frowned.
She had just left the werewolf in question cheerfully polishing cutlery in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place—with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. And it was because Remus was in the house that she’d been willing to leave Fred and George anywhere near Sirius Black without her supervision.
Absently, she exchanged a few more pleasantries with the Finnegans and then stood watching as they walked away.
Bloodthirsty monster.
It was odd, how different that sounded when someone else said it.
. * . * .
The cutlery was all polished and put away. The children—and Sirius—had vanished somewhere upstairs to take advantage of what freedom they could snatch before Molly came back.
Remus had retreated to the library, where he was trying to make some progress on the many piles of cursed and hexed books that still needed to be disarmed. One thick green volume had been laced with a rather intricate combination of unpleasant spells, a Stinging Hex crossed with a Page-Turner Curse, and he had to hold it suspended in the air while he disentangled half of one spell, neutralized the other, and finished removing the first. By the time he let the book land with a soft thump on the all-clear pile, his side ached where the rib had been broken and he was feeling embarrassingly winded.
Clearly, a cup of tea was called for.
It was nearly time for lunch, in any case. If Molly wasn’t back from shopping yet, maybe he should start making sandwiches. With the Order meeting in the afternoon, they had better not leave lunch too late.
Remus made his way gingerly down the stairs to the ground floor, stepping carefully and concentrating on keeping his balance. But when he was halfway down the basement stairs, he heard an odd choking sound coming from the kitchen.
Leaning on the banister for support, he hurried the rest of the way down and burst through the kitchen door.
There sat Molly at the table, with her head pillowed on her arms—sobbing.
“Molly!” Remus crossed the kitchen in two strides. “What’s happened?”
“It’s P-P-Percy,” she gasped. “He—he—” A fresh torrent of sobs burst forth, and she thumped one fist weakly against the table.
Remus had heard from Dumbledore about Percy’s break with the family. He’d been entirely in favour of Sirius leaving home all those years ago, and of course the Blacks were not the Weasleys. But now, for the first time, he really stopped to imagine how it would feel to have your own child turn away from you.
He sat in the chair next to Molly’s, perching on the edge. Her distress was painful to see. Acting on instinct, he reached out and patted her on the shoulder.
The sobs quieted a little.
“What happened?” he asked, gently.
“I went to see him,” she said, her voice breaking again. “To see if he was all right—to see if he wouldn’t at least talk to Arthur. But he told me—”
Another burst of sobs.
Remus kept patting, and added a sympathetic murmur.
“—he told me he’d meant everything he’d said, and he didn’t want to have anything to do with our family, or Dumbledore, ever again! What if...” She shuddered. “What if he joins the Death Eaters?”
Remus gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “I don’t think that’s the kind of thing Percy would do.”
Molly sat up at that. “Really?” She fixed him with a pleading expression. “You really think he wouldn’t?” She rubbed at the tears on her cheeks with the heels of her hands, and Remus started to reach into his pocket for a handkerchief to offer, but Molly fished a frilly, embroidered one out of her apron and wiped her eyes.
“I saw quite a lot of Percy when he was Head Boy, and in my N.E.W.T.-level Defence class,” said Remus slowly. “He likes to be right, and he likes to be the best at things. But he has a good heart.” He gave her a smile that he hoped was a reassuring one. “You and Arthur have done a fine job raising your children. It may take some time, but I think Percy will come home, and I don’t think he’ll fall in with the Death Eaters.”
“Oh, I do hope you’re right.” Molly bit her lip and turned that pleading gaze on him again. Then she shook her head, sniffed hard, and sighed, looking a little embarrassed for the first time. “I should probably go wash my face before the children come downstairs.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Remus. “You do that, and I’ll make some sandwiches for lunch.”
“Thank you.” She managed a watery smile before she disappeared up the stairs.
Remus began to assemble a platterful of roast beef and horseradish sandwiches. He thought about Percy, and Sirius, and families.
And then he froze, staring blankly at his hand.
The hand that had actually been patting Molly Weasley on the shoulder.
She must have been so distressed that she forgot to be afraid of him.
. * . * .
Sirius slouched in his chair in a corner of the kitchen, his scowl growing darker and darker as the first meeting of the reconstituted Order of the Phoenix dragged on.
How much longer would he have to sit here, listening to everyone else being given missions and tasks, when he would be trapped in this mouldering old house until he started to rot away? Even Remus had a mission, even this soon after the full moon. He was to go up to Glasgow tonight, to sit around in a certain dodgy pub under an Appearance Charm and try to figure out if Death Eaters were meeting there.
The only other member of the Order who hadn’t been given some kind of task outside the house was Molly. Sirius tried not to think too hard about the implications of ending up in the same category as Molly Weasley.
“And that,” came Dumbledore’s voice, “is the last of our business for today, I think.”
“Thank Godric,” Sirius muttered. Remus flashed him a hint of a smirk before snapping back into perfect-prefect mode.
“Until next time, then,” Dumbledore was saying. “And, although I very much regret the circumstances, it is nevertheless a pleasure to have us all together once more.”
Chairs scraped, and chatter swelled and grew, until the kitchen was quite noisy. Even Remus stood and began to greet some of the people he hadn’t spoken to before the meeting began.
Sirius stayed in his corner and glowered.
Sturgis Podmore passed by and caught his eye. “Erm,” he said awkwardly. “Black. Good to see you.”
“Podmore.” Sirius smiled grimly. No one seemed to know what to say to him. He supposed they weren’t quite ready for I’m so sorry none of us trusted you enough to work out that you were wrongly accused and imprisoned without a trial.
Emmeline Vance was the next to pass by. It hit Sirius just how long fourteen years really was—he’d still thought of Emmeline as young, but you couldn’t really say that anymore. She didn’t seem to have any words for him, either, so she made do with a quick, flustered smile. Sirius merely inclined his head, as regally as he could manage. If no one was going to try to make him feel at ease, why should he make an effort for any of them?
At least Dung was Dung. “See you, mate,” he said, as though the last fourteen years had never happened. “I’ll be round for a drink later, yeah?”
Kingsley Shacklebolt was all right, too. Sirius remembered him, vaguely, as a shrimpy little first-year, but apparently now he was the Auror in charge of the Sirius Black manhunt. Shacklebolt seemed to find the irony rather amusing.
“Meant to tell you, Black,” he said now. “I’ve got my eye on a likely new Order recruit in the Aurors, who I think you’ll find particularly interesting. If it works out, I’ll bring her along soon.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow. “It’d be good to have another Auror on our side.”
Shacklebolt just grinned mysteriously and made his way up the stairs.
McGonagall stopped to say a few words, then, and Arthur Weasley went by with his friendly smile, and Sirius started to feel a little better about things.
Until Snivellus Snape caught his eye and fixed him with a sneer.
Sirius lost no time in sneering right back.
Snape took a few steps closer, and it would have been hard to say which of the two of them looked at the other with more loathing.
“Be sure you pay attention when you’re working for Voldemort,” said Sirius, seizing the opportunity to vent his frustration at his favourite target of old. “Don’t forget whose side you’re really on.”
“I am hardly likely to forget,” said Snape, dripping venom. “I cannot afford mistakes when I am standing at the Dark Lord’s side.” His lip curled. “I understand it is you we have to thank for the housecleaning—such as it is—at this miserable headquarters.” The smirk grew. “Sirius Black, tied to Molly Weasley’s apron strings. Imagine.”
Sirius narrowed his eyes and wrapped his fingers around his wand.
And then all at once, Remus was there. “Hello, Severus,” he said. “I’ve been following up that information you sent about Mulciber’s contacts in Bulgaria. It has been most useful.”
“Good,” Snape drawled. “That was a particularly tricky bit of espionage, and I would hate to see it go to waste.” He looked Sirius up and down, and smirked again. “As Black, here, has done.” Then he spread his hands in mock apology. “Oh—do excuse me, Black, I forgot. You’re taking care of the housecleaning, so central to the mission of the Order of the Phoenix. And so conveniently distant from any, say, Death Eaters.”
Sirius felt the blood rush to his head. His fist clenched around his wand, and his mouth opened to launch some suitably scathing reply.
“Sirius.” Remus put a hand on his arm.
Sirius jerked away and thumped up the stairs, up and up and up until he reached the third floor. He shoved open the heavy mahogany door to the master suite. Then he took a deep breath, and bowed.
Buckbeak shuffled sideways, rolling his eyes—he always could tell when Sirius was agitated—but then he bowed back. He always did.
Sirius straightened up and pushed the door shut behind him. Buckbeak trotted right over, butting against Sirius’s shoulder, and Sirius couldn’t help feeling a little better.
“Hullo, Beaky,” he said, stroking the feathery head. “Holding up all right in here?”
Sirius looked around the room with sour satisfaction. His mother would have popped a vein or two if she could have seen her bedroom now, with the ornate furniture all stacked in the corner under a Shrinking Charm, and the once-elegant carpet strewn with a layer of hay—which, incidentally, smelled like it would need an Evanesco soon.
Buckbeak snorted and pranced a little, but then he made a little inquiring noise and looked longingly at the the wide double windows in the western wall.
“Feeling a bit cooped up, are you?” asked Sirius, wryly. “I can sympathise.” He tapped the hippogriff on the head with his wand, Disillusioning him, and then pulled both windows all the way open.
“Go on, then,” he said, giving Buckbeak a slap on the rump. “At least one of us should be able to get out of here sometimes.”
The hippogriff butted his head against Sirius’s shoulder one more time before trotting to the window, spreading his wings, and launching himself into the summer evening.
Sirius crossed to the window, kicking at the hay and the occasional rat skull. He leaned his elbows on the sill and looked out over the old-fashioned roofs of Grimmauld Place. The bright blue of the summer sky was starting to soften around the edges as evening came on. Birds darted among the chimneypots, chittering.
He sighed, watching one particular bird until it flew up over the house and out of sight. Never thought I’d see the day when I was jealous of a bloody swallow.
But his rage had cooled, now that he was away from Snivellus—leaving behind little more than the fog of sullen irritation that had become all too familiar.
. * . * .
Remus, pushing open the door to Mrs. Black’s old bedroom, was halfway into his bow before he realised that the hippogriff was gone. Sirius was alone in the room, standing at the open window, looking up into the sky.
Remus stifled a sympathetic grin. At least Sirius hadn’t been riding Buckbeak when he let him out.
He crossed the room, slowly, letting the hay crackle under his feet to mark his progress. When he reached the window, he mirrored Sirius’s pose, propping his elbows on the sill and gazing out into the early-evening light.
“I know, I know,” Sirius muttered, unprompted, still staring straight ahead. “I can’t go off on missions, because I need to be here for Harry.”
The dull, flat tone of his voice made Remus wince.
“Actually, I’ve been talking to Dumbledore.” He risked a sideways glance. “There will be a fair number of intelligence-type missions, too. Papers to go through, information to analyse—that sort of thing. No reason you can’t work on those right from here.”
“Sounds like homework,” Sirius grumbled, keeping up appearances. But Remus saw his head lift, just a little, and his eyes turn thoughtful.
Crisis averted, then.
So now, Remus could relax and make small talk. Sirius would most likely cooperate, parrying with something caustic but amusing. And things would go on as they had been ever since Sirius turned up at Remus’s flat—or, really, ever since their first exchange of owls after Sirius fled Hogwarts with Buckbeak a year ago. A more-or-less comfortable jokey rapport between two Order members who had known each other for a long time, even if they had both made mistakes. Even if, in the end, they hadn’t always trusted each other.
Things could go on just as they had been.
Or—
“It’s not only for Harry’s sake, you know,” said Remus, quietly, before he lost his nerve.
“Hmm?” Sirius turned, actually looking at him now.
Remus steeled himself and met the curious grey eyes straight on. “I don’t want to lose you again, Padfoot.”
Sirius blinked, startled into silence. For once.
“You and James were the best friends I ever had, in all my life.” Remus fought a visceral urge to look away, and prevailed, if just barely. “All the troubles we had—a lot of that was Peter’s scheming, of course. But some of it was my own bloody pride and shame. And then, afterward, I went on telling myself I was all right on my own. But I wasn’t.”
Something deep flickered in that grey gaze. A bony hand gripped Remus’s shoulder and squeezed. Hard.
Still, Sirius’s voice was light when he finally spoke. “Moony, you’re a hopeless sentimentalist. You’re about as far from alone as you can get, now that you’ve got the whole damn Order of the Phoenix watching your back.”
“A few of them, maybe.” Remus tried not to let thoughts of Molly’s fear and prejudice spoil the moment. “But none of them used to nick biscuits from the Hogwarts kitchens for me after moons.”
Sirius smirked at him, although his eyes were still warm. “I think you’ve got more of the Order with you than you know. People listened to you at the meeting today. Didn’t you see?”
Remus hadn’t noticed any such thing, but it wasn’t important. He shrugged, and smiled.
And then he eyed the sky, which was fading and turning pinker toward the west. “Speaking of the Order meeting,” he said carefully, “I had probably better start thinking about setting off for that pub in Glasgow.”
Sirius began to scowl, but then he glanced sideways at Remus and settled on a small weary sigh instead. “You’ll bring back information for me to analyse?”
“I solemnly swear that I will find you a mission you can carry out from here.” Remus raised his hand in mock earnestness, and—thankfully—Sirius grinned.
They left the window open for Buckbeak, closed the mahogany door firmly, and set off down the stairs. Remus still wasn’t moving all that quickly, but they hurried past the house-elf heads and tiptoed past the portraits in the ground-floor hallway.
And then they were at the front door, past which Remus could go and Sirius could not.
“Right, then,” said Sirius. “Go on up to Glasgow and prank a few Death Eaters, yeah?”
Remus felt the squeeze of that hand on his shoulder again. He grinned, remembering what it was like to be seventeen and making mischief.
He had his hand on the doorknob when there came a sudden clatter of footsteps, hurrying up the stairs from the kitchen and along the hall.
They turned.
There stood Molly, with her hands on her hips, positively glaring.
“Remus Lupin, just where do you think you are going?” Her voice was a whisper, in deference to the portraits dozing in their frames. But it had the impact of a shout.
“Erm.” Remus blinked. “I’m off on the reconnaisance mission to Glasgow.” He had never seen Molly this angry, not at him, anyway (the twins were another matter entirely). “I’m sorry—I thought you were there when Dumbledore was briefing me about it at the meeting.”
“Yes, I was there.” The glare grew, if possible, fiercer. “But it didn’t sound like such an urgent mission that it can’t wait another half hour.”
Remus blinked again. “No, it’s not that much of a rush—I just thought I’d go along and get started.”
“Oh, no you won’t.” She stepped toward him again, and even though she was considerably shorter than he was, it was all he could do to stand his ground without stepping back.
And then, Molly reached out and closed her fingers around his sleeve.
“I will not have you leaving this house without a hot meal.” She gave the sleeve a sharp tug. “You are to come downstairs right now and join the rest of us for supper. Is that understood?”
Remus felt his jaw drop. He hurriedly closed it and nodded obediently.
Apparently satisfied, Molly released her grip on his robes and disappeared back down the stairs, muttering under her breath things that sounded like “skin and bones” and “working himself to death” and “no sense at all.”
Sirius was sniggering. “Looks like you’ve finally landed in her ‘needs mothering’ category.” He rolled his eyes. “Much better you than me.”
But Remus couldn’t stop a small grin from tugging at one corner of his mouth.
They descended the last flight of stairs down to the kitchen, Remus trying not to lean too hard on the banister.
The kitchen was dim but warm in the light of the chandeliers and the fireplace. The table was laden with food, including what looked like two entire roast chickens and an enormous Yorkshire pudding—Remus felt his mouth start to water. Arthur and Bill, both contentedly chewing, looked up and smiled at them. Molly gave a brisk nod of approval and turned away to fill more plates.
“Oi, Sirius.” One of the twins brandished a piece of parchment bristling with notes and diagrams as soon as his mother had turned her back. “Come and have a look at this.”
“Professor Lupin!” called Hermione, from the end of the table where she was sitting between Ginny and Ron. “I’m glad you haven’t left yet. There’s something we wanted to ask you, about doxies.”
He started in their direction, only to have Molly intercept him with a positively heaping plate of food.
“Here you are, dear,” she said. “Make sure you have plenty to eat, especially if you’ll be out late. Do you know what time you’ll be home? I can leave something out for you under a Warming Charm.”
“Oh—I—erm—thank you,” said Remus, a little dazed by the dear. “I should be home right after last orders, I imagine, but then I’ll probably just have a cup of tea and go to bed.”
Molly patted his arm.
Still blinking, he took a seat at the table. He was leaning forward to listen carefully to Hermione’s question when the echo of his own words brought him up short.
But it was true.
Sometime, somehow—while he had been busy with doxies and cobwebs and counterspells, with the full moon, with the children’s restless energy, and Sirius’s sulks, and Molly’s worries—
Grimmauld Place had become home.
. * fin * .
( Up to Chapter Index )
.
...Quite possibly, because here is the sixth and final chapter of "All Will Be In Order." I can't say enough thanks to the readers who have let me know they were looking forward to updates, and to beta-readers
jncar and duck_or_rabbit and honorary beta-reader jobey_in_error for all the insightful and constructive comments, and to hrymfaxe for the amazing Chapter 1 illustration.This is the end of this story, but the first installment of "Kaleidoscope" will pick up right after this leaves off -- both projects are part of the same ficverse.
All Will Be in Order
When Remus Lupin moves in at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, he must come to terms with Sirius Black and a friendship too long submerged by mistrust, loss, and Azkaban. He must learn to work with Molly Weasley, who seems to be nearly as frightened of werewolves as she is of Voldemort. Clearly, adjustments will have to be made. ( Remus, Sirius, Molly | GoF>OotP | gen )
Chapter 6: A New Order (3970 words | PG/mild profanity)
- “Be sure you pay attention when you’re working for Voldemort,” said Sirius, seizing the opportunity to vent his frustration at his favourite target of old. “Don’t forget whose side you’re really on.”
“I am hardly likely to forget,” said Snape, dripping venom. “I cannot afford mistakes when I am standing at the Dark Lord’s side.” His lip curled. “I understand it is you we have to thank for the housecleaning—such as it is—at this miserable headquarters.” The smirk grew. “Sirius Black, tied to Molly Weasley’s apron strings. Imagine.”
Sirius narrowed his eyes and wrapped his fingers around his wand.
( 1. The Perfect Flat ) | ( 2. The First Mission ) | ( 3. A Long Summer ) | ( 4. A Few Surprises ) | ( 5. The Full Moon )
-----
( Chapter Index )
6. A New Order
“Mum’s been in a right state,” said Ron dully. “You know—crying and stuff. She came up to London to try and talk to Percy but he slammed the door in her face.”
—Order of the Phoenix, chapter 4
. * . * . “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—”
—Order of the Phoenix, chapter 5
. * . * . “We’re doing our best,” said Lupin.
—Order of the Phoenix, chapter 5
—Order of the Phoenix, chapter 4
—Order of the Phoenix, chapter 5
—Order of the Phoenix, chapter 5
Molly paused outside Tudhope’s Apothecary in Diagon Alley, peering at her crumpled shopping list. There were quite a few things she needed to restock; Sirius had used up rather a lot of supplies in the two days since the full moon, brewing pain potions and bone-knitting elixirs. Not that Molly begrudged Remus those remedies. He was back on decontamination duty now, but he still didn’t look particularly steady on his feet.
Shaking her head, she turned back to her list, wanting to finish her shopping as quickly as she possibly could. The first full meeting of the Order of the Phoenix was scheduled for that afternoon.
And she had something else to do, first.
Arthur still refused to let Percy’s name pass his lips. But last night he’d slipped her a scrap of parchment bearing the address of their son’s new flat, muttering vaguely about having asked around at the Ministry.
Today was Saturday, so Percy would probably be at home. It was all she could do to make herself take care of the shopping before Apparating straight over, but she didn’t want to get there too early, in case he was sleeping late on his day off. He always works so hard, the poor dear...
“Hi, Mrs. Weasley!”
She looked up to see a classmate of Ron’s approaching, with his mother right behind him.
“Hello, Seamus.” Molly smiled. “Are you enjoying your summer holidays?”
“Yeah, I am.” The boy grinned back. “But I’ll be glad to go back to Hogwarts, too. I get tired of not being able to use magic when I’m at home!”
“He never slows down, my Seamus,” Eithne Finnegan said fondly. She ruffled her son’s hair, which made him look pleased and embarrassed at the same time. Then she sighed. “I only hope they get someone competent for Defence this year. Gilderoy Lockhart was a brilliant choice, to be sure, but it’s been downhill ever since. A werewolf and a mad impostor! I don’t know what the school is coming to these days.”
“Mum.” Seamus poked at the ground with the toe of one shoe. “That Moody was a bit scary, maybe, but Professor Lupin was all right.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ve told you. He was a really good teacher, and we all liked him.”
Eithne looked appalled. “I don’t care how friendly he seemed. I simply don’t know what Dumbledore was thinking! No one with any sense would be letting a bloodthirsty monster watch over innocent children!”
Molly frowned.
She had just left the werewolf in question cheerfully polishing cutlery in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place—with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. And it was because Remus was in the house that she’d been willing to leave Fred and George anywhere near Sirius Black without her supervision.
Absently, she exchanged a few more pleasantries with the Finnegans and then stood watching as they walked away.
Bloodthirsty monster.
It was odd, how different that sounded when someone else said it.
The cutlery was all polished and put away. The children—and Sirius—had vanished somewhere upstairs to take advantage of what freedom they could snatch before Molly came back.
Remus had retreated to the library, where he was trying to make some progress on the many piles of cursed and hexed books that still needed to be disarmed. One thick green volume had been laced with a rather intricate combination of unpleasant spells, a Stinging Hex crossed with a Page-Turner Curse, and he had to hold it suspended in the air while he disentangled half of one spell, neutralized the other, and finished removing the first. By the time he let the book land with a soft thump on the all-clear pile, his side ached where the rib had been broken and he was feeling embarrassingly winded.
Clearly, a cup of tea was called for.
It was nearly time for lunch, in any case. If Molly wasn’t back from shopping yet, maybe he should start making sandwiches. With the Order meeting in the afternoon, they had better not leave lunch too late.
Remus made his way gingerly down the stairs to the ground floor, stepping carefully and concentrating on keeping his balance. But when he was halfway down the basement stairs, he heard an odd choking sound coming from the kitchen.
Leaning on the banister for support, he hurried the rest of the way down and burst through the kitchen door.
There sat Molly at the table, with her head pillowed on her arms—sobbing.
“Molly!” Remus crossed the kitchen in two strides. “What’s happened?”
“It’s P-P-Percy,” she gasped. “He—he—” A fresh torrent of sobs burst forth, and she thumped one fist weakly against the table.
Remus had heard from Dumbledore about Percy’s break with the family. He’d been entirely in favour of Sirius leaving home all those years ago, and of course the Blacks were not the Weasleys. But now, for the first time, he really stopped to imagine how it would feel to have your own child turn away from you.
He sat in the chair next to Molly’s, perching on the edge. Her distress was painful to see. Acting on instinct, he reached out and patted her on the shoulder.
The sobs quieted a little.
“What happened?” he asked, gently.
“I went to see him,” she said, her voice breaking again. “To see if he was all right—to see if he wouldn’t at least talk to Arthur. But he told me—”
Another burst of sobs.
Remus kept patting, and added a sympathetic murmur.
“—he told me he’d meant everything he’d said, and he didn’t want to have anything to do with our family, or Dumbledore, ever again! What if...” She shuddered. “What if he joins the Death Eaters?”
Remus gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “I don’t think that’s the kind of thing Percy would do.”
Molly sat up at that. “Really?” She fixed him with a pleading expression. “You really think he wouldn’t?” She rubbed at the tears on her cheeks with the heels of her hands, and Remus started to reach into his pocket for a handkerchief to offer, but Molly fished a frilly, embroidered one out of her apron and wiped her eyes.
“I saw quite a lot of Percy when he was Head Boy, and in my N.E.W.T.-level Defence class,” said Remus slowly. “He likes to be right, and he likes to be the best at things. But he has a good heart.” He gave her a smile that he hoped was a reassuring one. “You and Arthur have done a fine job raising your children. It may take some time, but I think Percy will come home, and I don’t think he’ll fall in with the Death Eaters.”
“Oh, I do hope you’re right.” Molly bit her lip and turned that pleading gaze on him again. Then she shook her head, sniffed hard, and sighed, looking a little embarrassed for the first time. “I should probably go wash my face before the children come downstairs.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Remus. “You do that, and I’ll make some sandwiches for lunch.”
“Thank you.” She managed a watery smile before she disappeared up the stairs.
Remus began to assemble a platterful of roast beef and horseradish sandwiches. He thought about Percy, and Sirius, and families.
And then he froze, staring blankly at his hand.
The hand that had actually been patting Molly Weasley on the shoulder.
She must have been so distressed that she forgot to be afraid of him.
Sirius slouched in his chair in a corner of the kitchen, his scowl growing darker and darker as the first meeting of the reconstituted Order of the Phoenix dragged on.
How much longer would he have to sit here, listening to everyone else being given missions and tasks, when he would be trapped in this mouldering old house until he started to rot away? Even Remus had a mission, even this soon after the full moon. He was to go up to Glasgow tonight, to sit around in a certain dodgy pub under an Appearance Charm and try to figure out if Death Eaters were meeting there.
The only other member of the Order who hadn’t been given some kind of task outside the house was Molly. Sirius tried not to think too hard about the implications of ending up in the same category as Molly Weasley.
“And that,” came Dumbledore’s voice, “is the last of our business for today, I think.”
“Thank Godric,” Sirius muttered. Remus flashed him a hint of a smirk before snapping back into perfect-prefect mode.
“Until next time, then,” Dumbledore was saying. “And, although I very much regret the circumstances, it is nevertheless a pleasure to have us all together once more.”
Chairs scraped, and chatter swelled and grew, until the kitchen was quite noisy. Even Remus stood and began to greet some of the people he hadn’t spoken to before the meeting began.
Sirius stayed in his corner and glowered.
Sturgis Podmore passed by and caught his eye. “Erm,” he said awkwardly. “Black. Good to see you.”
“Podmore.” Sirius smiled grimly. No one seemed to know what to say to him. He supposed they weren’t quite ready for I’m so sorry none of us trusted you enough to work out that you were wrongly accused and imprisoned without a trial.
Emmeline Vance was the next to pass by. It hit Sirius just how long fourteen years really was—he’d still thought of Emmeline as young, but you couldn’t really say that anymore. She didn’t seem to have any words for him, either, so she made do with a quick, flustered smile. Sirius merely inclined his head, as regally as he could manage. If no one was going to try to make him feel at ease, why should he make an effort for any of them?
At least Dung was Dung. “See you, mate,” he said, as though the last fourteen years had never happened. “I’ll be round for a drink later, yeah?”
Kingsley Shacklebolt was all right, too. Sirius remembered him, vaguely, as a shrimpy little first-year, but apparently now he was the Auror in charge of the Sirius Black manhunt. Shacklebolt seemed to find the irony rather amusing.
“Meant to tell you, Black,” he said now. “I’ve got my eye on a likely new Order recruit in the Aurors, who I think you’ll find particularly interesting. If it works out, I’ll bring her along soon.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow. “It’d be good to have another Auror on our side.”
Shacklebolt just grinned mysteriously and made his way up the stairs.
McGonagall stopped to say a few words, then, and Arthur Weasley went by with his friendly smile, and Sirius started to feel a little better about things.
Until Snivellus Snape caught his eye and fixed him with a sneer.
Sirius lost no time in sneering right back.
Snape took a few steps closer, and it would have been hard to say which of the two of them looked at the other with more loathing.
“Be sure you pay attention when you’re working for Voldemort,” said Sirius, seizing the opportunity to vent his frustration at his favourite target of old. “Don’t forget whose side you’re really on.”
“I am hardly likely to forget,” said Snape, dripping venom. “I cannot afford mistakes when I am standing at the Dark Lord’s side.” His lip curled. “I understand it is you we have to thank for the housecleaning—such as it is—at this miserable headquarters.” The smirk grew. “Sirius Black, tied to Molly Weasley’s apron strings. Imagine.”
Sirius narrowed his eyes and wrapped his fingers around his wand.
And then all at once, Remus was there. “Hello, Severus,” he said. “I’ve been following up that information you sent about Mulciber’s contacts in Bulgaria. It has been most useful.”
“Good,” Snape drawled. “That was a particularly tricky bit of espionage, and I would hate to see it go to waste.” He looked Sirius up and down, and smirked again. “As Black, here, has done.” Then he spread his hands in mock apology. “Oh—do excuse me, Black, I forgot. You’re taking care of the housecleaning, so central to the mission of the Order of the Phoenix. And so conveniently distant from any, say, Death Eaters.”
Sirius felt the blood rush to his head. His fist clenched around his wand, and his mouth opened to launch some suitably scathing reply.
“Sirius.” Remus put a hand on his arm.
Sirius jerked away and thumped up the stairs, up and up and up until he reached the third floor. He shoved open the heavy mahogany door to the master suite. Then he took a deep breath, and bowed.
Buckbeak shuffled sideways, rolling his eyes—he always could tell when Sirius was agitated—but then he bowed back. He always did.
Sirius straightened up and pushed the door shut behind him. Buckbeak trotted right over, butting against Sirius’s shoulder, and Sirius couldn’t help feeling a little better.
“Hullo, Beaky,” he said, stroking the feathery head. “Holding up all right in here?”
Sirius looked around the room with sour satisfaction. His mother would have popped a vein or two if she could have seen her bedroom now, with the ornate furniture all stacked in the corner under a Shrinking Charm, and the once-elegant carpet strewn with a layer of hay—which, incidentally, smelled like it would need an Evanesco soon.
Buckbeak snorted and pranced a little, but then he made a little inquiring noise and looked longingly at the the wide double windows in the western wall.
“Feeling a bit cooped up, are you?” asked Sirius, wryly. “I can sympathise.” He tapped the hippogriff on the head with his wand, Disillusioning him, and then pulled both windows all the way open.
“Go on, then,” he said, giving Buckbeak a slap on the rump. “At least one of us should be able to get out of here sometimes.”
The hippogriff butted his head against Sirius’s shoulder one more time before trotting to the window, spreading his wings, and launching himself into the summer evening.
Sirius crossed to the window, kicking at the hay and the occasional rat skull. He leaned his elbows on the sill and looked out over the old-fashioned roofs of Grimmauld Place. The bright blue of the summer sky was starting to soften around the edges as evening came on. Birds darted among the chimneypots, chittering.
He sighed, watching one particular bird until it flew up over the house and out of sight. Never thought I’d see the day when I was jealous of a bloody swallow.
But his rage had cooled, now that he was away from Snivellus—leaving behind little more than the fog of sullen irritation that had become all too familiar.
Remus, pushing open the door to Mrs. Black’s old bedroom, was halfway into his bow before he realised that the hippogriff was gone. Sirius was alone in the room, standing at the open window, looking up into the sky.
Remus stifled a sympathetic grin. At least Sirius hadn’t been riding Buckbeak when he let him out.
He crossed the room, slowly, letting the hay crackle under his feet to mark his progress. When he reached the window, he mirrored Sirius’s pose, propping his elbows on the sill and gazing out into the early-evening light.
“I know, I know,” Sirius muttered, unprompted, still staring straight ahead. “I can’t go off on missions, because I need to be here for Harry.”
The dull, flat tone of his voice made Remus wince.
“Actually, I’ve been talking to Dumbledore.” He risked a sideways glance. “There will be a fair number of intelligence-type missions, too. Papers to go through, information to analyse—that sort of thing. No reason you can’t work on those right from here.”
“Sounds like homework,” Sirius grumbled, keeping up appearances. But Remus saw his head lift, just a little, and his eyes turn thoughtful.
Crisis averted, then.
So now, Remus could relax and make small talk. Sirius would most likely cooperate, parrying with something caustic but amusing. And things would go on as they had been ever since Sirius turned up at Remus’s flat—or, really, ever since their first exchange of owls after Sirius fled Hogwarts with Buckbeak a year ago. A more-or-less comfortable jokey rapport between two Order members who had known each other for a long time, even if they had both made mistakes. Even if, in the end, they hadn’t always trusted each other.
Things could go on just as they had been.
Or—
“It’s not only for Harry’s sake, you know,” said Remus, quietly, before he lost his nerve.
“Hmm?” Sirius turned, actually looking at him now.
Remus steeled himself and met the curious grey eyes straight on. “I don’t want to lose you again, Padfoot.”
Sirius blinked, startled into silence. For once.
“You and James were the best friends I ever had, in all my life.” Remus fought a visceral urge to look away, and prevailed, if just barely. “All the troubles we had—a lot of that was Peter’s scheming, of course. But some of it was my own bloody pride and shame. And then, afterward, I went on telling myself I was all right on my own. But I wasn’t.”
Something deep flickered in that grey gaze. A bony hand gripped Remus’s shoulder and squeezed. Hard.
Still, Sirius’s voice was light when he finally spoke. “Moony, you’re a hopeless sentimentalist. You’re about as far from alone as you can get, now that you’ve got the whole damn Order of the Phoenix watching your back.”
“A few of them, maybe.” Remus tried not to let thoughts of Molly’s fear and prejudice spoil the moment. “But none of them used to nick biscuits from the Hogwarts kitchens for me after moons.”
Sirius smirked at him, although his eyes were still warm. “I think you’ve got more of the Order with you than you know. People listened to you at the meeting today. Didn’t you see?”
Remus hadn’t noticed any such thing, but it wasn’t important. He shrugged, and smiled.
And then he eyed the sky, which was fading and turning pinker toward the west. “Speaking of the Order meeting,” he said carefully, “I had probably better start thinking about setting off for that pub in Glasgow.”
Sirius began to scowl, but then he glanced sideways at Remus and settled on a small weary sigh instead. “You’ll bring back information for me to analyse?”
“I solemnly swear that I will find you a mission you can carry out from here.” Remus raised his hand in mock earnestness, and—thankfully—Sirius grinned.
They left the window open for Buckbeak, closed the mahogany door firmly, and set off down the stairs. Remus still wasn’t moving all that quickly, but they hurried past the house-elf heads and tiptoed past the portraits in the ground-floor hallway.
And then they were at the front door, past which Remus could go and Sirius could not.
“Right, then,” said Sirius. “Go on up to Glasgow and prank a few Death Eaters, yeah?”
Remus felt the squeeze of that hand on his shoulder again. He grinned, remembering what it was like to be seventeen and making mischief.
He had his hand on the doorknob when there came a sudden clatter of footsteps, hurrying up the stairs from the kitchen and along the hall.
They turned.
There stood Molly, with her hands on her hips, positively glaring.
“Remus Lupin, just where do you think you are going?” Her voice was a whisper, in deference to the portraits dozing in their frames. But it had the impact of a shout.
“Erm.” Remus blinked. “I’m off on the reconnaisance mission to Glasgow.” He had never seen Molly this angry, not at him, anyway (the twins were another matter entirely). “I’m sorry—I thought you were there when Dumbledore was briefing me about it at the meeting.”
“Yes, I was there.” The glare grew, if possible, fiercer. “But it didn’t sound like such an urgent mission that it can’t wait another half hour.”
Remus blinked again. “No, it’s not that much of a rush—I just thought I’d go along and get started.”
“Oh, no you won’t.” She stepped toward him again, and even though she was considerably shorter than he was, it was all he could do to stand his ground without stepping back.
And then, Molly reached out and closed her fingers around his sleeve.
“I will not have you leaving this house without a hot meal.” She gave the sleeve a sharp tug. “You are to come downstairs right now and join the rest of us for supper. Is that understood?”
Remus felt his jaw drop. He hurriedly closed it and nodded obediently.
Apparently satisfied, Molly released her grip on his robes and disappeared back down the stairs, muttering under her breath things that sounded like “skin and bones” and “working himself to death” and “no sense at all.”
Sirius was sniggering. “Looks like you’ve finally landed in her ‘needs mothering’ category.” He rolled his eyes. “Much better you than me.”
But Remus couldn’t stop a small grin from tugging at one corner of his mouth.
They descended the last flight of stairs down to the kitchen, Remus trying not to lean too hard on the banister.
The kitchen was dim but warm in the light of the chandeliers and the fireplace. The table was laden with food, including what looked like two entire roast chickens and an enormous Yorkshire pudding—Remus felt his mouth start to water. Arthur and Bill, both contentedly chewing, looked up and smiled at them. Molly gave a brisk nod of approval and turned away to fill more plates.
“Oi, Sirius.” One of the twins brandished a piece of parchment bristling with notes and diagrams as soon as his mother had turned her back. “Come and have a look at this.”
“Professor Lupin!” called Hermione, from the end of the table where she was sitting between Ginny and Ron. “I’m glad you haven’t left yet. There’s something we wanted to ask you, about doxies.”
He started in their direction, only to have Molly intercept him with a positively heaping plate of food.
“Here you are, dear,” she said. “Make sure you have plenty to eat, especially if you’ll be out late. Do you know what time you’ll be home? I can leave something out for you under a Warming Charm.”
“Oh—I—erm—thank you,” said Remus, a little dazed by the dear. “I should be home right after last orders, I imagine, but then I’ll probably just have a cup of tea and go to bed.”
Molly patted his arm.
Still blinking, he took a seat at the table. He was leaning forward to listen carefully to Hermione’s question when the echo of his own words brought him up short.
But it was true.
Sometime, somehow—while he had been busy with doxies and cobwebs and counterspells, with the full moon, with the children’s restless energy, and Sirius’s sulks, and Molly’s worries—
Grimmauld Place had become home.
( Up to Chapter Index )
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2011-10-16 10:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-16 10:09 pm (UTC)Anyone who is still actually reading this story gets the Nobel Prize for patience. ♥
Go get sleep!
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Date: 2011-10-16 10:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-17 01:17 am (UTC)You may become the first person to read the Slightly Revised Version of chapters 1 and 4 3, heh.
Yay!
Date: 2011-10-17 04:49 am (UTC)I really enjoy reading your stories and I'm so glad to see updates!
Thanks for the wonderful conclusion of that little arc. It was perfect :)
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Date: 2011-10-17 01:39 pm (UTC)I hope you’re proud of this ending. It just worked – a perfect finale. I loved these scenes – fewer than I hoped for, but all of them just gems.
Sirius and Remus’s talk at the window induced great flaily love. In addition to being heart-tugging and all, I felt this undercurrent of pride in both of them… Sirius for getting over stuff, Remus for speaking up even though it’s not really his thing.
Something deep flickered in that grey gaze. A bony hand gripped Remus’s shoulder and squeezed. Hard.
Still, Sirius’s voice was light when he finally spoke.
Gah. *heartmelt* This is what we needed more of in canon. (So – thanks!)
I was surprised by Remus’s reflections right before all the steeling-and-speaking: they have seemed genuinely like old friends with a close bond throughout, especially in Chapter One… oh, but that’s been revised, now hasn’t it?
And both scenes with Remus and Molly! The first is obviously endearing – the first time pattern example for all those times he’ll comfort her about family stuff and all. But I got an even bigger kick out of scolding, hissing, fussing Molly. It’s a great way – the only way, really – to show that she’s now accepted him. And his surprise and embarrassment and pleasure is so, well, Remusy.
Grimmauld Place really did feel so homelike in OotP (not for Sirius, obviously, but otherwise). The Order was never really the same after we had to break up our nest – by which I mean I as a reader stopped having as much fun. Makes sense: I guess things always felt so fun and clubhousey and homey at GP that one felt sheltered a bit from the messiness of war? (And maybe for R/Ters, the proper interpretation is that the relationship would never have gone anywhere if the end of GP days hadn’t given them a kick in the pants…)
Many, many congratulations for finishing this! How does it feel to have it cleared from your plate?
Re: Yay!
Date: 2011-10-17 03:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-17 04:20 pm (UTC)One of the sticking points with finishing this chapter was worry about making it work as an ending to the whole story, so I'm especially glad to hear you thought it worked that way.
Sirius and Remus’s talk at the window induced great flaily love.
Awww! So glad to hear it. This was by far the hardest scene to write, and it's vastly different (down to POV) from the first-draft version.
I was surprised by Remus’s reflections right before all the steeling-and-speaking: they have seemed genuinely like old friends with a close bond throughout, especially in Chapter One… oh, but that’s been revised, now hasn’t it?
Exactly -- that's precisely what the revisions were for (whether they were successful is another question, lol). I realized in the course of being incompetent with Ch 6 for more than a year that the Remus-and-Sirius plot arc should have been more about them getting over the past, and Remus having to make a conscious decision to open up to real friendship again even though it means leaving himself vulnerable.[*] So I rewrote a few bits -- the key-est changes are the very end of Ch 1 (Remus explicitly considers the risks of friendship) and the firewhisky scene in Ch 3 (Sirius is disturbed by the fact that Remus has his mask on and Sirius can't read him through it anymore).
After reading your comment I also made a little edit in this chapter, so Remus's thoughts on their "more-or-less comfortable working relationship" are now "more-or-less comfortable jokey rapport" -- i.e., the surface signs of their friendship are there, but they've both been holding back from checking for anything deeper.
[*]In my ficverse, Remus's ability to fall for Tonks in the course of OotP is a direct consequence of him first re-establishing a true friendship with Sirius, and finding a home at 12GP.
Anyway, this story really still is all Remus-centric, which I know was something you thought may not have been the wisest choice. But I hope the revisions and the final chapter have helped to make some of his character arc more evident and interesting overall. And I did have tons of fun writing the development of Molly's motherly relationship with him (as well as just generally amusing myself setting up backstory for the interactions we see in OotP).
How does it feel to have it cleared from your plate?
A huge relief! (hee) Thanks again for all your cheering-on, and your friendly but honest critiques, which I have really appreciated. And I'm sorry that this comment response is almost as long as the chapter. :P
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Date: 2011-10-17 07:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-17 09:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-18 01:23 pm (UTC)That makes so much sense. I hope you don't mind that I have just mentally adopted that as canon.
I think I came across as too pushy with the Remus-centric angle. "This fic isn't that type of fic, which I think would be a cool fic to read" isn't very helpful feedback (and I think was a result of reading comp failure on my part?) And I can't honestly say that I would ever object to Remusfic.
I just knew the conversation in Mrs Black's room had to have been edited a lot! It has the extra restraint but perfect, emotion-haunted detail that you only get after a fair amount of revision.
Cheers on a great finale :D
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Date: 2011-10-19 05:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-19 02:20 pm (UTC)That just made my day! :)
I think I came across as too pushy with the Remus-centric angle.
Not in the least. I especially appreciated the question you raised as to whether Remus, for all that we love him, is interesting enough to be the focal character in a story rather than a secondary one; I believe the answer is yes, but our discussion made me realize that this story wasn't doing an adequate job of showing that. Which in turn was the impetus for the revisions, which I think have made the story stronger.
Cheers on a great finale :D
Thank you so much! :D
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Date: 2011-10-19 02:24 pm (UTC)(And I didn't know about the Quibbler Report. I can see I'll have to keep an eye on that.)
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Date: 2011-10-19 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-20 04:27 am (UTC)obsessionfandom to find this! I read it straight away because new R/T is hard to find nowadays, but I do think I need to read over from the beginning. Thanks for carrying on and finishing. Looking forward to more Kaleidoscope chapters.no subject
Date: 2011-10-21 12:02 am (UTC)No real R/T in this story, although you may have noticed the Tonks teaser from Kingsley in the final chapter. ;) But this story can be thought of as a pre-Tonks prequel to Kaleidoscope... And I've been mulling over a couple of WIP Kaleidoscope chapters and thinking about which one to work on next. So maybe in a few weeks?
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Date: 2011-10-21 04:51 am (UTC)I love watching Remus start to realize that maybe people actually can change! and I think that as stated before, this really did have to happen in order for him to even consider starting something with Tonks!
Shall have to go off and start Kalidescope again! I've missed me some R/T lately!
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Date: 2011-10-21 01:26 pm (UTC)I love watching Remus start to realize that maybe people actually can change!
I think OotP year was a really good year for Remus, and it was fun to write him starting to realize that.
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Date: 2011-10-21 04:50 pm (UTC)Not sure if I'm being helpful but we'd say cutlery for your flatware. You've got me reading Wiki and learning more US/Brit differences again! :)
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Date: 2011-10-21 05:10 pm (UTC)And Britpicking is always helpful, so thank you for that. When I'm suspicious of a word I will Google for it on ".uk" sites to double-check, but sometimes it doesn't occur to me to be suspicious!
If you don't mind me asking, another one I'm unsure of is what to call the thing that to me is a 'kitchen counter'. I've seen the term 'work surface' used by British writers, but that sounds so official to me, like something a builder would call it. Is that the most common term? And does it matter if it's an old-fashioned kitchen as in 12GP, or a more modern kitchen like what I imagine the Tonkses to have?
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Date: 2011-10-21 11:39 pm (UTC)We'd call a kitchen counter either a worktop or a work surface; if you're buying one you'd ask for a kitchen worktop and I've always referred to them as such. But both are common terms in use today.
As to the old versus new, I quizzed my mother as she came round tonight, and she went for worktop in both instances while saying that they tended to mix and prepare food on a table top when she was young, or have a marble slab on it because it was a means of keeping meat cool. Suffice it to say, I shall be listening very closely to Mrs. Patmore and Daisy on Sunday night. Who says fanfic isn't educational? ;)
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Date: 2011-10-22 11:58 pm (UTC)LOL -- I'm terrified to know what's famous overseas as American food! You're good if you got grits, though; that's regional, and there's lots of Americans who've never had any.
Thanks for the kitchen help. I like the sounds of "worktop" and will toe the line in Kaleidoscope henceforward.
Suffice it to say, I shall be listening very closely to Mrs. Patmore and Daisy on Sunday night.
It had definitely occurred to me that there I was, watching a basement kitchen every week! But what I really want a look at is the kitchen of Grantham House, I think. Heh.
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Date: 2011-10-24 11:56 am (UTC)I didn't know romaine lettuce was our cos (guessed rocket), that taffy was toffee (really should have guessed that), and that we have courgettes and you have zucchini? There were ten in all and we managed only three correct, whereas I'm sure you'd have sailed through a Brit to US equivalent round.
But what I really want a look at is the kitchen of Grantham House, I think. Heh.
Is that your inspiration?
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Date: 2011-10-24 07:07 pm (UTC)That's interesting about taffy/toffee. We use both words, but they mean different things here (just as for cookie/biscuit, I suppose). Toffee would be specifically something sort of like caramel, but taffy is a type of soft chewy candy that comes in lots of different flavors.
I'm just glad the American food pub quiz wasn't all about McDonalds and Cheez Doodles, lol.
Is that your inspiration?
Only in that I've been assuming the house at 12GP is an upper-class townhouse fallen on hard times? And Grantham House would at least be an upper-class townhouse for me to peek at.
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Date: 2011-10-28 07:29 am (UTC)There's the Molly we all know and love!
I have come back many a time to read your wonderful fic but today I got to read the end, it's well worth the wait.
At least your fic got finished, I have some other fics I would love to read until the end but the writers have given up on them... So thank you for finishing your fic even if it's a few years later then originally planned :3
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Date: 2011-11-02 03:59 am (UTC)Thanks so much for sticking with the story, even though it's taken a long time to get it all written. I'm happy to know you've enjoyed it!
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Date: 2011-11-16 05:10 pm (UTC)I'm biased in Remus' favour, but it seems to me that he's an ideal central character for a story like this as he's always worked as something of a catalyst in canon. It was him who gave the Marauders their focus, and it was for him they learned how to become Animagii. One of the most enjoyable aspects of this fic is that change happens because of who he is this time, rather than because of what. I thought you built that up skilfully throughout, particularly with Molly, who comes to see that it's Remus who manages children, Sirius and much else, it's Remus who was respected as a teacher (love the mothers adoring Gilderoy!) and it's Remus who is simply a very sick and defenceless man after transformation.
Bloodthirsty monster.
It was odd, how different that sounded when someone else said it.
Prejudice must be one of the most difficult things to write, especially as someone like Molly probably goes back and forth between being admirable, brave and a little irritating sometimes. I also find myself inclined to judge harshly - possibly because it's a little too close for comfort - but I thought you kept a good balance between Molly's fears having a real rational to them, the stress she's under now, and the sad, dignified way Remus dealt with her. It was wonderful to see him being fussed over exactly like her family at the end, to have Sirius spotting it before Remus, and to see Remus' rather dazed acceptance of it all.
Sirius and Remus' relationship throughout reminded me of how Remus treats everyone: very carefully. It seemed like memories of the past were as much a barrier as a bond. So their last scene was a delight - I loved Sirius freeing Buckbeak for a little while, even though he couldn't free himself - and Remus realizing that he was the one who had to speak out, and give both himself and Sirius what was missing from their friendship.
People listened to you at the meeting today. Didn’t you see?”
Remus hadn’t noticed any such thing, but it wasn’t important. He shrugged, and smiled.
They might just be my favourite lines from the whole thing. Which is one of my favourite stories of yours. ♥
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Date: 2011-11-17 04:56 am (UTC)I'm glad you thought it worked to have Molly gradually start to observe and then understand and finally appreciate Remus; I hoped her transition didn't seem too abrupt in the final chapter.
Likewise with Molly's views on life. I certainly wish she were a little more open-minded (and more generous toward Sirius), but I do think it makes sense that her general fear of the coming conflict would exacerbate her pre-existing specific fears of things like werewolves. And while I wish her experience with Remus would have opened her mind a little more to werewolves in general (that poor man in Arthur's ward in OotP...), at least she was able to look at Remus with clear enough eyes that she eventually could judge him for himself.
Anyway -- I'll stop rambling now (except to say sorry for the kitchen 'counter' in Ch 5; I had changed that to 'worktop' in the FF.N version, but forgot to edit here!) and simply say again how much it means that you went and read this all again and thought it over so thoroughly. :D
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Date: 2012-01-08 12:46 pm (UTC)Anyway I loved this. I really liked reading Molly's pov, it must have been so hard for her with Percy's behaviour, the rest of the family in such danger and having to confront the fact that your ideas about certain people and things may be wrong (dealing with both Sirius, who she would have seen as a dangerous criminal, and Remus, with all the general prejudice about werewolves, I think it would have difficult for anyone to handle). I think you really brought this over well and I liked the scene with Seamus' mum, it gave Molly that moment to stop and realise how the general ideas on werewolves don't really apply, especially to Remus. Sometimes it's someone else's prejudice that shows up our own for what it is.
I do liked the revised version of Sirius and Remus' relationship here, it's got to have been uncomfortable at first for them to get over more than ten years of suspician and distrust. The conversation at the window breaks down a barrier between them which would allow them to build a stronger friendship. This feels like exactly as it would have been in canon and, for me, prepares them both for the arrival of Tonks and for the friendship (in my head anyway) the three of them have; it couldn't have been possible without the two of them breaking this barrier first.
I love Kingsley's oblique reference to Tonks ;) It would be interesting to see this Remus and Sirius meeting her, but I guess that might impinge on the early Kaleidoscope stories wouldn't it? (But if you had the whim...)
And oh I do love Molly making a complete fuss of Remus :) Molly is incredibly loyal to those she loves and it's lovely to see her putting Remus in that column. I think you've done great in showing her progression from her fears to accepting him as he is :)
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Date: 2012-01-08 04:47 pm (UTC)I'm very glad you liked Molly in this story, and I'm reassured that you've picked up on what I was trying to show about all the strain she was under. The scene with Mrs. Finnegan was really fun to write -- I love the idea of Molly being forced to confront how much her view of Remus has actually changed since she first met him. (I wish it was true of her opinion of werewolves in general, but we can't have everything and nobody's perfect and all that. ;) ) And the final scene is one of my favorites -- I wrote the first draft of it way back when I was first starting on "Order," and now we finally got there, heh.
It would be interesting to see this Remus and Sirius meeting her
Oh, no worries, they will! ;) This story and Kaleidoscope are set in the same ficverse. And one reason why I haven't written too many of the early parts of Kaleidoscope yet is that I wanted to finish Order first to make sure everything would fit together. In this ficverse, the reason why Remus lets himself open up enough to trust Tonks the way he does (and we know what that leads to!) is because he's secure in his friendship with Sirius and his acceptance by the Weasleys.