After months of careful watching, and the discovery that Harry was indeed the rightful owner of the house after all, the Order moved back in “ although no one had thought to re-clean it.
That was what Sirius had been for, right?
Remus walked through the dusty hallways of the towering mansion, silently thanking Sirius for having the presence of mind to make Harry his heir, and also silently cursing him for not being around to make the place more presentable.
Remus coughed as his footsteps caused a particularly large cloud of dust to rise and stick in his throat. His voice echoed through the darkened hallway and reverberated around the walls. He guessed he was on the fourth floor, with the attic directly above him. He was certainly all alone.
Remus stretched out his arms and raised his right leg. A slight spinning pirouette followed by a snappy arabesque assured him that he was still in shape. He had not been Dancing against the Dark Arts in quite some time, but at least his dancing spirit had not left him.
He was ready for the coming battle.
He was prepared.
However, one grand jetè later, and Remus found himself sprawled upon the musty carpet, looking in surprise and terror at the late Sirius Black who stood before him.
Sirius stared right back at Remus, seemingly unrestricted by the fact that he was supposed to be dead.
Remus stood up slowly.
“No, no, no, I’m not having any part in this.”
“What?” inquired Sirius.
“You. This isn’t going to be one of those Sirius-isn’t-really-dead-but-he-comes-back stories, is it?”
“Ha-ha, no, I’m dead mate. When you die in this world, you stay dead.” Sirius’ face changed to a look of disgust. “Killed by a curtain in book five I believe! I mean - drapery! How is that a fitting end, to be killed by a piece of chiffon? Well placed for the plot I imagine “ Ms. Rowling I thank you not!”
“Good. Well “ I don’t mean that it’s good, you know, it’s just that, I mean clearly… well… how are you here then?” Remus looked up and down the hall, and then down at himself. “Am I dreaming?”
“I don’t know,” shrugged Sirius. “Aren’t you supposed to see what you want in your dreams?”
“Then why am I seeing you?”
Sirius and Remus stared at each other.
“Oh Merlin no, this isn’t going to be ‘slash’, is it?”
“Let’s hope not,” said Sirius as he slowly backed away.
“Because I was wishing you were here… but only because the house is filthy “ not that we’d expect you to clean it… but you used to… emmm…”
Lupin searched for something intelligent to say. He was supposed to be good at that “ right?
“So…” Remus stared awkwardly at his feet. “How are you?”
“Look Remus,” Sirius began, finally getting straight to the point, “I am here for a reason. Things are bad “ really bad. And they’re going to get worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows’ will be released soon, don’t you?”
“Yeah, in July, right? Cool name, isn’t it?”
“You think so?” asked Sirius darkly. “You and I both know that after book six, Voldemort is furious. He’ll want to do everything in his power to make sure book seven will be his moment. It’s his last chance after all.”
“Well, don’t worry Sirius “ I mean, we beat him last time,”
“Last time?” Sirius laughed his dog-like bark. “Last time there was only marshmallows. This is going to be bigger.”
“Bigger?” Remus shuddered at the thought. “What’s bigger than marshmallows?”
Sirius checked up and down the hall before leaning towards Remus’ ear.
“Horses,” he breathed.
“Oh God,” started Remus, as the little colour left in his face was drained. “No, Sirius “ you can’t mean it -”
“That’s all I know Moony. You need to work out the rest. There’s not much time.”
Sirius turned away from Remus towards the curtains over a nearby window.
“No “ Sirius don’t go! We need your help! I “ I don’t know anything about horses!”
“Don’t worry, Moony,” Sirius smiled sadly. “You’ll figure it out.”
Sirius touched the curtain, and his hand glowed a dazzling white which flowed throughout his body.
“Sirius!” called Remus in anguish. “Padfoot! Hey, wait “ are you getting back through a curtain?”
“They’re all inter-connected,” Sirius stated. “Surely that’s pretty obvious?”
Sirius’ form began to curl up into itself before becoming a ball of bright fire, which quickly shot up through the fabric and out of Remus’ sight.
Harry Potter, the bungling hero of every book so far that bears his name, sat at the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place, scanning the newspaper for possible sightings of Voldemort.
He honestly could not see the point of newspapers, with their bland black and white print that constantly rubbed off on fingers and clothes, and their ridiculous size which made sure that anyone of a small stature would have trouble opening one comfortably.
On the other hand, Harry was well aware that the reading of a newspaper was the common thing for an adult of mature size to undertake, and so Harry went about his task with gusto. It was worth the seventeen paper-cuts so far just to catch the glimmer of admiration in Ginny’s eyes.
Remus entered the kitchen, took a peek into the pot Molly was stirring, and sat down next to Harry, who appeared to be rather confused.
“Everything okay Harry?” asked Remus kindly, who was still rather shaken from his encounter with Sirius.
“Yeah… I just can’t understand these newspapers.”
Harry held up his copy of the Daily Prophet, and pointed out the various different articles to Lupin.
“See, in almost every article there’s a comment in the middle, or at the beginning or the end in brackets, with the name Ed. Who is Ed? I’ve looked all over the paper and I can’t find anything on him anywhere else.”
“No, Harry,” smiled Remus. “Ed. is the editor.”
Harry stared at Remus and began to laugh.
“Are you saying that the editor’s name... is Ed?! Ha-ha, that’s convenient!”
Hermione, who had been sitting at the other side of the table, looked up from her game of Exploding Snap with Ginny.
“No Harry, ed. stands for editor. It’s an abbreviation.”
Now Ginny began to laugh, and Harry felt his cheeks burn.
“She’s right, Harry,” added Remus.
“Oh, really?” began Harry in annoyance. “So what’s his name then?”
“Whose?”
“The editor’s.”
“Well… er,” stuttered Remus, “I “ I don’t know…”
“Exactly. So then maybe his name really is Ed.”
“But Harry,” interjected Hermione, “if that was the case, then every editor in the world would have to be named Ed, because that’s on every newspaper."
“Do you know any editors?” asked Harry.
“Well… no,”
“Then maybe they are all called Ed,” finished Harry abruptly, and returned quickly to the newspaper before he could be corrected.
The door to the kitchen soon opened and a weary Arthur Weasley entered, followed by Tonks, who was not her usually bubbly self.
“Is everything okay?” asked Remus worriedly, as Tonks sat next to him and put her head in her hands.
“I’m afraid not,” sighed Arthur, and Harry placed the newspaper carefully on the table, all thought of editors forgotten.
“It’s Voldemort,” Arthur continued. “It appears that he has, somehow, finally managed to procure some horses.”
“Dear God,” whispered Remus. “How many?”
“Seven,” announced Arthur, and Harry promptly fainted.