A New Place to Stay Chapter 21 - Harry Potter

 At Grimmauld Place, Harry gets an Extendable Ear from the twins, meets the screaming portrait of Walburga Black, and is dragged into a kitchen showdown about secrecy. Sirius wants answers on the table, Molly says no, Remus plays mediator, and Arthur explains why the Ministry and the Daily Prophet are undermining Dumbledore. Harry finally hears what the Order is really doing, including hints about giants, spies inside the Ministry, Kingsley’s cover, and talk of a new weapon Voldemort wants by stealth. When Molly ends the briefing, Harry pointedly keeps Ron and Hermione in the dark and goes to bed still furious. 

Transcript

**Chapter 21: Useless Information and a Strand Rekindled**

“Hey, Harry! Heard your loud…” Fred began, tutting mockingly.

“Colorful argument last night, mate…” George continued, tossing the comment back to Fred. “You don’t want to bottle up your anger, mate…” 

“Just let it out; there might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn’t hear you,” George added, finishing Fred’s thought.

“Don’t be too hard on them!” Fred chimed in again. “If you want our help pranking, feel free to ask!”

George grinned at Harry.

“All pranks for you, my good friend…”

“Are free,” Fred and George said together, smirking wickedly, their eyes twinkling as if they shared a delightful secret. “Thanks,” Harry grunted, still not in the best of moods.

Upon reflection, he realized he would rather be talking to the twins than his so-called best friends. He wasn’t foolish; he knew the twins understood him.

There was no doubt in his mind that their best friend, Lee Jordan, was in the loop as well. Fred and George kept nothing from him; the three of them were practically inseparable.

“Here’s one thing you might like,” Fred said, glancing around as if he expected someone to be eavesdropping. In reality, they were just making sure no one from the Order or their mother was nearby.

He handed Harry a small piece of flesh-colored string. “What is this?” Harry asked, eyeing it cautiously.

“That, Harry, is an Extendable Ear—you can listen in on meetings or whatever you want,” Fred explained, finally speaking as one person. “Okay, but why does everyone tiptoe around here as if they’re afraid of making any noise?” Harry demanded.

It was a question he had been eager to ask since last night. Despite going to bed early, he hadn’t slept much.

This place felt damp and disgusting, especially compared to Prince Manor. He was afraid to touch anything or go anywhere, just in case.

A shudder wracked his body at the thought. Harry winced at the thought.

Just then, a clatter came from the kitchen, followed by the most awful noise echoing through the townhouse. He didn’t need the twins to respond; he already had his answer.

“Scum! Filth!

By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks; begone from this place!

How dare you befoul the house of my fathers...” 

Harry shuddered. He hated that word—hated it more than any other.

At that moment, another presence joined the three teenagers. It was Sirius Black, his voice unmistakable.

“Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!” he roared, grabbing the curtains and trying to close them. “YOU!” the old hag howled, her eyes bulging at the sight of him.

“Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!” 

Harry gasped. Flesh?

That disgusting, dingy old portrait was Sirius Black's mother? She was old, foul-mouthed, and revolting.

How on earth was she related to his godfather? He glanced at the twins, who looked thoroughly amused, clearly used to this spectacle.

This was where he was staying until Hogwarts started back up? He silently wondered how Sirius handled living in such an awful place.

“I said—shut UP!” Sirius bellowed, and with a tremendous effort, he managed to pull the curtain closed. Just like that, the old woman’s screeching ceased, and the house fell into silence.

Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him. “Hello, Harry; I see you’ve met my mother!” Sirius said, his expression grim.

“Uh… yeah,” Harry replied, feeling rather awkward. This wasn’t how he would have acted a month ago.

Things had changed; he had learned that his godfather was selfish, immature, and almost a murderer if it hadn’t been for his father. “Well, there are a few people here who’d like to meet you!” Sirius said, trying to dispel the awkwardness.

This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his time. Sirius was excited to finally have his godson with him, now that Dumbledore had given the green light.

He was sure Harry would be relieved to be away from the vile, disgusting Snivellus. “Harry!” Mr.

Weasley exclaimed, rushing forward to greet him. He shook Harry's hand vigorously.

“Good to see you! You look well!

I see Severus has kept you fed!” 

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, his tone flat. “Sit down, Harry!” Sirius said, sensing that Harry didn’t want to discuss Snape.

“You’ve met Mundungus, haven’t you?” 

“No,” Harry said, eyeing the pile of rags and wondering if “Mundungus” was even still alive. “Some’n say m'name?” Mundungus mumbled sleepily, his droopy, bloodshot eyes unfocused.

He looked much like Dudley did after smoking joints on street corners. Harry couldn't help but wonder if this man was on drugs too—did wizards have those kinds of substances?

Or was there some potion that could create similar effects? It was an intriguing thought.

Ginny giggled playfully. “I did, Dung; Harry’s here,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes.

“Eh?” Mundungus squinted at Harry through his matted ginger hair. “Blimey, so he is.

You all right, ‘Arry?” 

“Fine,” Harry said, feeling deeply uncomfortable. He was also restless; he hadn’t been able to go for his morning run, and he was already beginning to feel trapped in this decrepit building.

“This is the house where I grew up, Harry,” Sirius explained. “I gave it to the Order of the Phoenix—an organization run by Dumbledore to fight against Voldemort.” 

“I gathered as much,” Harry replied bluntly.

He noticed everyone flinch at the mention of Voldemort and bit back the urge to think, “Coward.” Then he recalled Severus’s words about how Voldemort had nearly taken over the world last time and how many people had died for having the courage to stand up to him. A silent sigh escaped his lips.

No one had ever told him the truth so bluntly before. It was a refreshing change, but now he realized he was back to half-truths and lies.

The lies brought back memories of what Sirius had done, and he felt a chill wash over him. Sirius had lied about his mother—or rather, he had refused to tell Harry who his mother had been friends with.

Severus hadn't only had Death Eater friends, as Sirius had suggested; he had one very good friend: Harry's mother. "Dumbledore wants me to tell you something...

I'm not sure how to say it," Sirius said, his voice tinged with sadness. "He's not coming here himself?" Harry asked, confusion etched on his face.

"No, no, he's too busy!" Sirius replied. "What's wrong?" Harry asked, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Everyone around him looked grim, as if they already knew what Sirius was about to say. Even Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances.

Harry glared at them, shaking his head in disgust, causing them to look at each other with concern. Hermione's brown eyes filled with tears and fear once again.

"You know you weren't sent to the Dursleys this summer because Death Eaters had been patrolling the area?" Sirius continued, and it seemed almost rhetorical as he pressed on. "Well, the Dursleys disappeared weeks ago.

We still aren't sure what happened to them, but Professor Dumbledore believes the Death Eaters have them. He said they knew better than to leave the area—something about warning them regarding his past."

To be honest, Sirius had been too upset to listen properly.

Harry just stared blankly at him. The Dursleys were gone?

It couldn't be true. Voldemort didn't have them; he couldn't have.

Weeks ago, Harry hadn’t been able to close off his mind. Voldemort would have shown him, would have boasted about it.

They must have run off, fled somewhere. They had to have.

It was impossible for the Death Eaters to have them. They didn’t know that he had been able to see Voldemort when the connection flared up.

No, the Dursleys had simply fled. The wizards probably wouldn’t have a clue about tracking them the Muggle way.

Tracking charms likely wouldn’t work over such long distances, especially since the Dursleys had probably fled. Vernon had always been a coward, so Harry wasn’t surprised at all.

If only he knew. “Nearly time for bed, I think,” Mrs.

Weasley said with a yawn. “Not just yet, Molly,” Sirius replied, 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.”

It was the second night since Harry had arrived at Grimmauld Place.

The atmosphere in the room shifted with a quickness Harry associated with the arrival of Dementors. Just moments before, it had been sleepily relaxed; now, it was alert, even tense.

A shiver passed 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.

“What would be the point? Nobody would tell me anything anyway!” Harry exclaimed indignantly.

“Harry’s been trapped with Snivellus for ages. He probably doesn’t know anything.

He has the right to know what’s been happening…” Harry was on the verge of snapping at Sirius for speaking so nastily about Severus when the others began to interrupt. “Hang on!” George shouted.

“How come Harry gets his questions answered?”

“We’ve been trying to get stuff out of you for a month, and you haven’t told us a single thing!” Fred added angrily. “You’re too young; you’re not in the Order,” Fred said in a high-pitched voice that sounded eerily like their mother’s.

“Harry’s not even of age!” George protested. “It’s not my fault you haven’t been told what the Order’s doing,” Sirius replied calmly.

“That’s your parents’ decision. Harry, on the other hand…”

“It’s not up to you to decide what’s good for Harry!” Mrs.

Weasley interjected. Mrs.

Weasley spoke sharply, her normally kind expression turning dangerous. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

Harry inhaled deeply, trying to control his anger as Severus had taught him.

He needed to keep his emotions in check, especially before school. Severus had warned him that they would go to great lengths to keep him silent.

At that moment, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of frustration towards Molly Weasley—interfering old witch. He knew he would be even angrier if he had to deal with Snape without any information.

"Which bit?" Sirius asked, his tone polite yet carrying the weight of someone preparing for a confrontation. "The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know," Mrs.

Weasley emphasized, her voice firm. Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George turned their heads back and forth between Sirius and Mrs.

Weasley as if they were watching a tennis match. Ginny knelt amidst a pile of discarded Butterbeer corks, her mouth slightly agape as she observed the exchange.

Lupin's gaze was fixed on Sirius. "I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly," Sirius replied.

"But since he was the one who saw Voldemort return..." 

A collective shudder rippled around the table at the name. "...he has more right than most to know."

"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" Mrs.

Weasley interjected. "He's only fifteen and..."

"And he's already faced more than most in the Order," Sirius countered.

"More than some adults, even."

Harry felt a flicker of the affection he held for his godfather return. Maybe Sirius wasn't so bad after all—nobody had ever stood up for him like that before.

That connection was faint and fragile, but it was there, and that was what mattered. "No one's denying what he's done!" Mrs.

Weasley shot back, her voice rising as her fists trembled on the arms of her chair. "But he's still..."

"He's not a child!" Sirius said impatiently.

"He's not an..."

"He's not an adult either!" Mrs. Weasley snapped, her cheeks flushed with anger.

"He's not James, Sirius!" 

Harry thought, Whoa, someone else is actually thinking the same way I am, although for a different reason. He had felt the same when Sirius had contacted him through the fireplace.

Then Sirius had the nerve to say Harry was less like his father, a man he barely remembered. Harry suppressed a grin; he was somewhat enjoying the confrontation.

"I'm perfectly clear on who he is, thanks, Molly," Sirius replied coldly. "I'm not sure you are!" Mrs.

Weasley shot back. "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?" Ron protested.

"It’s wrong, Ron, because Harry is not his father, no matter how much he might look like him!" Mrs. Weasley answered, her eyes still fixed on Sirius.

"He’s still at school, and the adults responsible for him shouldn’t forget that!"

"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" Sirius demanded, his voice rising. "Meaning you have 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!" Sirius interrupted loudly.

Harry stifled a grin; at least he wasn’t the only one who felt frustrated with Dumbledore right now. But did his godfather dislike anyone other than old school grudges from Hogwarts, like Severus Snape?

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, turning to her husband.

"Arthur, back me up!"

Mr. Weasley hesitated, removing his glasses and cleaning them slowly on his robes, avoiding his wife's gaze.

Only after carefully placing them back on his nose did he respond. "Dumbledore knows the position has changed, Molly.

He accepts that Harry will need 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!" she cried. "Personally," Lupin said quietly, finally looking away from Sirius as Mrs.

Weasley turned to him, hopeful for support, "I think it's better for Harry to get the facts—not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture—from us rather than a garbled version from… others." His expression was mild, but Harry was sure Lupin knew that Fred and George had given him an Extendable Ear. "Well," Mrs.

Weasley said, taking a deep breath and glancing around the table for support that wasn’t there, "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.

Speaking as someone who has Harry's best interests at heart..."

"He's not your son," Sirius said quietly. "He's as good as," Mrs.

Weasley declared fiercely. "Who else has he got?"

"He's got me!" Sirius proclaimed just as fiercely.

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley replied, 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," Lupin said sharply.

"Sirius, sit down."

Mrs. Weasley's lower lip trembled.

Sirius slowly sank back into his chair, his face pale. "I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this," Lupin continued.

"He's old enough to decide for himself."

Harry wondered silently if he should just tell them he knew everything, to stop the argument that was heating up. How he wished they truly cared; unfortunately, he barely knew the woman who claimed him as her own.

He didn’t know Molly Weasley any better than he knew Sirius Black. They didn’t know him any better either; the only one who truly understood him was Severus Snape.

a man he was supposed to hate. He had only seen Molly three times, but he supposed he knew her better than Sirius at the end of the day.

When he was a child—or maybe just a few months ago—he would have felt comforted by Molly's declaration, but he was no longer a child or dependent on anyone. "I want to know what's been going on," Harry finally said.

"Very well," Mrs. Weasley replied, her voice cracking.

"Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George—out of this kitchen, now!"

An instant uproar followed. "We're of age!" Fred and George shouted in unison.

"If Harry's allowed, why can't I?" Ron yelled. "Mum, I want to hear!" Ginny cried out.

"NO!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, rising to her feet, her eyes bright with emotion.

"I absolutely forbid—"

"Molly, you can't stop Fred and George," Mr. Weasley said wearily.

"They are of age."

"They're still at school!" Mrs. Weasley argued.

"But they're legally adults now," Mr. Weasley pointed out, maintaining his tired tone.

Mrs. Weasley’s face turned scarlet.

"I—oh, all right then. Fred and George can stay, but Ron..."

"Harry’ll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!" Ron said hotly.

"Won’t—you will, won’t you?" He looked at Harry with uncertainty. "No.

I’ll give you a taste of being kept in the dark; let’s see how you like it," Harry replied emotionlessly, locking eyes with Ron. Ron’s expression fell, and soon, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were ushered from the room, looking devastated.

"Okay, Harry... what do you want to know?" 

Harry took a deep breath and asked the question he had been meaning to ask.

"Where’s Voldemort?" he inquired, ignoring the renewed shudders and winces that accompanied the name. "What’s he doing?"

"Nothing as of yet; he’s stopped killing people."

"How come he’s stopped killing people?" Harry pressed, knowing Voldemort had murdered multiple times in the past year alone.

"Because he doesn’t want to..."

"He's trying to draw attention to himself," Sirius replied. "It would be dangerous for him.

His return didn’t go quite as he had hoped, you see. He messed it up."

"Or rather, you messed it up for him," Lupin added with a satisfied smile.

"How?" Harry asked, feigning ignorance. "You weren't supposed to survive!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Nobody outside his Death Eaters was supposed to know he had come back. But you survived to bear witness."

"And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore," Lupin continued.

"And you made sure Dumbledore knew right away."

"How has that helped?" Harry questioned. "Are you kidding?" Remus replied incredulously.

"Dumbledore was the only one Voldemort ever feared!"

"Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix about an hour after Voldemort returned," Sirius added. "So, what's the Order been doing?" Harry asked.

"Working as hard as we can to ensure Voldemort can't carry out his plans," Sirius said. "How do you know what his plans are?" Harry inquired quickly, wondering if they would mention Severus.

"Dumbledore has a shrewd idea," Lupin said carefully. "And Dumbledore's shrewd ideas typically turn out to be accurate."

Harry felt a surge of frustration.

Dumbledore, his arse—Severus Snape was out there risking his life for them. "So what does Dumbledore think he's planning?" Harry finally managed to ask.

"Well, firstly, he wants to rebuild his army," Sirius explained. "In the old days, he commanded huge numbers: witches and wizards he had bullied or bewitched into following him, his loyal Death Eaters, and a variety of Dark creatures.

You heard him planning to recruit the giants; they'll just be one of the groups he's after. He’s certainly not going to try to take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters."

"Are you trying to stop him from getting more followers?" Harry asked.

"We're doing our best," Lupin replied. "How?" Harry inquired, suppressing a snort.

"Well, the main thing is to convince as many people as possible that Voldemort has truly returned, to get them on their guard," Arthur explained. "But it's proving tricky."

"Why?" Harry asked, already aware of the answer but feeling frustrated by the situation.

It seemed like a good moment to test how much they trusted him, so he pressed on. "Because of the Ministry's attitude," Sirius said.

"You saw Cornelius Fudge after Voldemort returned, Harry. He hasn’t changed his stance at all.

He absolutely refuses to believe it."

"But why?" Harry exclaimed, desperate for clarity. "Why is he being so foolish?

If Dumbledore..."

"Ah, you've hit the nail on the head," Mr. Weasley said with a wry smile.

"Dumbledore. Fudge is frightened of him, you see."

"Frightened of Dumbledore?" Harry echoed, incredulous.

"Frightened of what he might do," Mr. Weasley clarified.

"Fudge thinks Dumbledore is plotting to overthrow him. He believes Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic."

"But Dumbledore doesn't want that..." At least, Harry didn't think he did.

"Of course he doesn’t," Mr. Weasley replied.

"He’s never wanted the Minister's job, even though many people urged him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired. Fudge came into power instead, but he’s never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even without applying for the position.

Deep down, Fudge knows Dumbledore is much cleverer than he is, a far more powerful wizard. In the early days of his Ministry, he was always seeking Dumbledore’s help and advice.

"But it seems he has become fond of power and much more confident. He loves being Minister of Magic."

“Magic has a way of convincing him that he’s the clever one, while Dumbledore is just stirring up trouble for no reason,” Sirius said.

“How can he think that?” Harry exclaimed angrily. “How can he believe Dumbledore would just make everything up—or that I would?” He wanted to understand why the Ministry was so reluctant to admit the truth.

“Because accepting that Voldemort is back would mean trouble the Ministry hasn’t had to face in nearly fourteen years,” Sirius replied bitterly. “Fudge just can’t bring himself to confront it.

It’s much easier for him to believe that Dumbledore is lying to destabilize him.”

“You see the problem,” Lupin added. “While the Ministry insists there’s nothing to fear from Voldemort, it’s hard to convince people he’s back, especially since they don’t want to believe it in the first place.

What’s worse, the Ministry is leaning heavily on the Daily Prophet not to report on what they’re calling Dumbledore’s rumor-mongering. As a result, most of the wizarding community is completely unaware that anything has happened, making them easy targets for the Death Eaters if they’re using the Imperius Curse.”

“But you’re telling people, aren’t you?” Harry asked.

“You’re letting people know he’s back?”

They all exchanged humorless smiles. “Well, considering everyone thinks I’m a mad mass-murderer and the Ministry has put a ten-thousand-Galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll down the street handing out leaflets, can I?” Sirius said, shifting restlessly.

“And I’m not exactly a popular dinner guest with most of the community,” Lupin added. “That’s an occupational hazard of being a werewolf.

Tonks and Arthur would lose their jobs at the Ministry if they started talking, and it’s crucial for us to have spies inside the Ministry. You can bet Voldemort will have them.”

“We’ve managed to convince a couple of people, though,” Mr.

Weasley interjected. Weasley said, "Having Aurors on our side is a huge advantage.

Kingsley Shacklebolt has been a real asset, too. He's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet."

"But if none of you are putting out the news that Voldemort's back..." Harry began.

"Who said none of us are putting out the news?" Sirius demanded. "Why do you think Dumbledore's in such trouble?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"They're trying to discredit him," Lupin explained. "Didn't you see the Daily Prophet last week?

They reported that he was voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards because he's getting old and losing his grip. But that's not true; he was voted out by Ministry wizards after he made a speech announcing Voldemort's return.

They've demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot—that's the Wizard High Court—and they're even talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class."

"But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog Cards," Fred said, grinning. "It's no laughing matter," Mr.

Weasley said sharply. "If he keeps defying the Ministry like this, he could end up in Azkaban.

The last thing we want is for Dumbledore to be locked up. While You-Know-Who knows Dumbledore's out there and aware of what he's up to, he’s going to proceed cautiously.

If Dumbledore is out of the way... well, You-Know-Who will have a clear field."

"But if Voldemort's trying to recruit more Death Eaters, it's bound to get out that he's come back, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"Voldemort doesn't march up to people's houses and bang on their front doors, Harry," Sirius replied. "He tricks, jinxes, and blackmails them.

He's well-practiced at operating in secret. Besides, gathering followers is just one of the things he's interested in."

"He's got other plans too—plans he can put into operation very quietly.

Right now, he's focusing on those," Sirius explained. "What’s he after, apart from followers?" Harry asked quickly.

"Stuff he can only get by stealth."

When Harry continued to look puzzled, Sirius clarified, "Like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time."

"When he was powerful before?" Harry sought confirmation.

"Yes." Sirius nodded. "What kind of weapon?" Harry pressed.

"Something worse than the Avada Kedavra...?"

Harry didn't need to say anything more. It hit him just in time that Molly spoke up.

They were talking about the prophecy—but Sirius had lied again; he had it when he was in power before. They were referring to the damned prophecy as if it was the solution to everything.

He supposed it was, but not in the way they were suggesting. "That's enough!" Mrs.

Weasley called from the shadows beside the door. Harry hadn't noticed her return from taking Ginny and the others upstairs.

Her arms were crossed, and she looked furious. "I want you in bed, now.

All of you," she added, glancing at Fred and George. "You can't boss us..." Fred began.

"Watch me," Mrs. Weasley snarled, trembling slightly as she looked at Sirius.

"You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more, and you might as well induct him into the Order straightaway."

"Why not?" Harry interjected.

"I'll join; I want to join. I want to fight."

"No." This time, it was Lupin who spoke.

"The Order is made up only of of-age wizards," he explained. "Wizards who have left school," he added, as Fred and George opened their mouths to protest.

"There are dangers involved that you can't even begin to understand... I think Molly's right, Sirius.

We've said enough."

Sirius half-shrugged but didn't argue. Mrs.

Weasley gestured imperiously to her sons and Harry. Harry was more than happy to comply.

Harry hurried out of the room and climbed the stairs to the shared bedroom he had with Ron. As he entered, he noticed Ron and Hermione sitting on Ron's bed, looking at him with eager anticipation.

They genuinely believed he was about to share everything that had happened. With a smirk of smug satisfaction, he went straight to his bed and pretended to be asleep, waiting until true sleep finally overtook him.