Arrival at Grimmauld

Sirius Black was frustrated. But that was nothing new. Frustration had been his state of mind for a long while now. For nearly two months, he had been constrained to the grimy house of his childhood. He would never call Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place home, for it had not been a home for him since he turned nine and asked why the muggle children playing in the park across the road were beneath him. His mother had screamed at him for wanting to think about playing with muggle children before declaring him a bad influence on Regulus. The answer she later gave him, trying to act like a mother, had rung hollow, especially with how she followed it up with a blinding cuff to the ear. So when he arrived at Hogwarts two years later, he rebelled. For a child of House Black, there was no greater rebellion than becoming a Gryffindor.

Unfortunately for Sirius, the nature of a Gryffindor was not suitable for remaining cooped up in a nasty, plague-ridden house like his family's townhouse. It made his skin itch.

He had begged and even pleaded with Albus Dumbledore to be added to his goddaughter's protection guard. He had even proposed going there while in the form of Padfoot. Edelweiss Potter, the girl he should have raised as his own, was forced to stay with Lily's wretched sister and her even more horrid family. Sirius saw them once following his daring escape from Azkaban. He had vague memories of meeting them at James and Lily's wedding. The prank he had played on the Dursleys was rightfully deserved, given how they sneered at anything and everything magical. It should have been simple, even for the worst muggles, to keep their mouths shut and act polite for a few hours.

He had seen known Death Eaters capable of that little.

To make matters worse, his last remaining friend, Remus Lupin, had been sent to Surrey around midday to attend to some special task. He had yet to return, which was concerning. Dinner had come and gone, and the children had inquired after their best defense professor. Sirius decided then and there he would remain awake long enough to hear Remus's report.

Even if he'll say little else than Edie continues to hide away within that bland, cookie-cutter excuse of a house those muggles live in.

He watched from his spot at the head of the dining room table as members of the Order of the Phoenix gathered, summoned for an emergency meeting. The Weasleys, having arrived in early July and remained ever since, were the first to take their seats with him. Arthur had yet to be suspended from his post at the Ministry, but he had confessed to being placed under investigation. Sirius assumed that meant Arthur's loyalty to Dumbledore was obvious enough that the fool, Minister Fudge, wanted to know if there was a way to remove Arthur Weasley without violating the law.

Others who fought in the first war as part of the Order trickled in, taking seats shortly after they arrived: Emmeline Vance, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, Sturgis Podmore, even wizened Elphias Doge. He nodded to them all, taking note of those who returned the nod as a courtesy and those who meant it.

Sirius carefully watched the new recruits as they filed in. Hestia Jones had been recruited by Vance from the Hit Wizards, while his cousin Nymphadora Tonks was brought on by her auror trainer, Mad-Eye. One of the other Weasleys was present, though he had resisted his mother's nagging to join the family at Number Twelve. He had flowing orange hair and a dragon tooth earring his mother took umbrage with. Sirius thought it made him the best of the bunch. Once Edelweiss was brought over, he would get to know the others better, if only through her. He only recognized the boy who had owned Wormtail and befriended his goddaughter.

Dumbledore arrived several minutes after everyone else settled down, a grim-faced Kingsley Shacklebolt and a worn-down Remus following in his wake. Sirius thought it the height of irony that the auror leading the task force hunting him down was involved with the Order. Being able to help actively railroaded every attempt to find him was the greatest prank he had pulled since the last year of the war. The dark-skinned auror avoided his gaze, taking a seat with his fellows, Moody and Tonks.

"I am afraid I have called this meeting to share grave news," began Dumbledore, his weary gaze sweeping over those present. "As many who work at the Ministry have heard by now, two dementors went missing this afternoon. When they returned to Azkaban, the aurors present discovered they had been scarred with magical burns. Kingsley has informed me that the DMLE has investigated a possible suspect. I am afraid to inform everyone here that it is a name we all know."

Sirius's gut sunk long before the Headmaster uttered his goddaughter's name to shocked gasps.

"More troubling than that incident was another one, which occurred earlier in the day. Miss Potter encountered Remus while away from her family's home," continued Dumbledore. Sirius glanced at Remus. His friend did not deign to share even a glance. "She did not say so directly to him, but I fear from what he reported that she is liable to flee her relative's home without warning. And given what has happened today, I fear it may come soon. We must prepare for her disappearing, though to where I cannot say. Perhaps—."

"Why not bring her here before she can run away?" asked Sirius, a moment away from outright demanding they escort her to Grimmauld Place. He rose to his feet, drawing a few glowers. His chair screeched when his legs bumped it backward. "I've begged you all summer to bring my goddaughter here! Every time you denied me. So why not now? She's run afoul of the aurors—"

"It's not as simple as that, Black," snarled Mad-Eye, his false blue eye swiveling about in the eye socket it occupied. "The national sensors detected two unknown spells cast in her area around a time of day which aligns with the dementors being absent from Azkaban. Unless you can explain how that girl is capable of using magic unknown to the Ministry, we cannot trust bringing her into Headquarters."

"This is my house," Sirius growled, ignoring what Mad-Eye had said about Edelweiss for the time. "I offered it to Dumbledore because nobody would think of checking this house for the bloody Order of the Phoenix. I'm more than willing to retract my offer and leave Britain with my goddaughter, the consequences be damned."

"That won't be necessary," interrupted Dumbledore. "I will go to where Miss Potter is staying and speak with her soon. After that, we will make plans to secretly move her here. It appears she must be kept under a close eye." He turned to the Weasleys. "I trust you can continue to look after her as you have in the past."

Mrs. Weasley beamed. "The children will be overjoyed to have her here with us. The limitations on writing letters has been difficult for them all. Even dear Ronald." She lowered her voice as if saying something truly scandalous. "I think he has a crush on her, the poor dear. Merlin knows the girl wouldn't recognize romance if it stepped before her and announced itself."

Sirius grimaced at the thought of his goddaughter with Ronald Weasley. He had nothing truly bad to say about the boy. He simply believed the boy was not up to the standard he knew James and Lily would set for their little girl. He did not doubt for a second they would have encouraged a friendship with the Weasley children.

But a romance with the youngest son? That was out of the picture.

"Perhaps something will flourish this year," Dumbledore said, carefully walking the line between suggestive and condescending. He glanced at Sirius, noted the man's tension, and sighed. "Perhaps I should go tonight. Miss Potter has shown a tendency in the past to be rath—"

A loud gong echoed from the kitchen. Sirius and several others sprung to their feet and burst in. The fireplace roared with green flames. An elderly woman had stuck her head through and shouted for all to hear, "Headmaster! Headmaster! Trouble! Hurry!"

As Dumbledore hurried to the kitchen fireplace, Sirius felt something brush his mind. It was no Occulmency attack. Yet the feeling reminded him painfully of the ones his mother subjected him to before he fled to the Potters. A moment later, the house shook with bone-rattling reverberations. A second after that, a bell, deep and grim, tolled twice.

"That was the wards," he whispered, glancing at whoever was closest. Tonks, his cousin Andromeda's brat, stared at him with bright red hair. Her hair had been a noxious violet when she arrived for the meeting. "That was the wards," he said louder, "and the house is under the Fidelius."

He rushed to the front door, Tonks and a few others on his heels. He ignored the grime of the front entry as he passed the stairs, which creaked and groaned as the children upstairs scuttled about. Sirius hurried past the curtains over his mother's portrait. He ignored her sudden shrieks as he threw open the front door and found his goddaughter standing on the sidewalk before Grimmauld Place, scowling at the houses before her. Her intent emerald eyes searched for something.

The house, Sirius thought. Despite how impossible the thought was, the wards had reacted—and they could have only reacted to his goddaughter.

Before he could greet her or descend the few stairs down to the sidewalk where she stood, those emerald eyes—too much like Lily's, as they always had been—flashed and met his gaze. Edelweiss Potter grinned widely and then bounded up the stairs to stand before him, holding her trunk as though it was weightless.

"Hello, Sirius," said Edelweiss. Before he could speak, she crashed into him with a fierce hug. He stumbled back a step, yet he had enough sense to draw her close to him. After a minute, Edelweiss drew back and looked about, frowning. "What is this place? I know it's there, yet my mind is not fully convinced. It's the oddest thing in the world…"

She trailed off as a wand was shoved into her face. Fury bloomed in her emerald eyes as she looked past Sirius and into Remus's grim face. His friend looked rather apologetic as he said, "Tell me something only the real Edelweiss Potter knows."

She did not flinch at his demand. "I used my memory of flying on a broom the first time I attempted to cast the Patronus. It failed spectacularly."

Remus sighed with relief. He lowered his wand, though he did not grin as Sirius had upon gazing upon his goddaughter. "You should read this," he said, handing Edelweiss a slip of parchment.

Edelweiss took it without comment. Sirius knew what was written upon it, for that piece of parchment was the Secret which made all who read it aware of what hid beneath the Fidelius established around his family's townhouse. She blinked after reading the final word. She smirked as her gaze rose to the house before her, now fully visible to her gaze.

"Neat trick, linking a ward to a bit of parchment. Can't say it's the safest thing in the world, but I don't know much of wards anyways." Edelweiss glanced back at the small park across the road, and then to the buildings around that park. "We should head inside before someone grows too curious about why I vanished."

"There's nothing to be worried about, Edelweiss," said Remus.

She gave him a sideways, doubtful look. Sirius sighed before turning to his friend. "She isn't being paranoid, Remus. It's a bit chilly out this evening. And don't forget: she hasn't seen her friends in weeks."

He glanced back to his goddaughter, expecting her to look overjoyed at the prospect of reuniting with her friends after so long apart. Instead, her face was cold and stiff. Something furious burned in her gaze. His mind flashed back to that fateful day some two years ago, when Edelweiss confronted him in the Shrieking Shack. Her fury that night had been terrifying, greater than anything he had encountered from a single witch.

Edelweiss caught his gaze. A moment after, she sniffed just like his cousin Narcissa might and stepped past him into Grimmauld Place.

Once he closed the door behind them, Sirius was reminded that his mother's portrait had been awakened. Her obnoxious screaming and screeching filled the hallway, allowing her to utter all manner of wretched words. Remus flinched away, his senses strengthened due to his werewolf nature. Sirius grimaced at the reminder of the reason he fled home.

Edelweiss shocked him. She began laughing, just loud enough to interrupt his mother's portrait. Walburga Black stared at the laughing witch, her jowls fallen and mouth opened wide. His goddaughter's laugh slowly transformed into a cackle. It was the kind he associated with his cousin Bellatrix. Her laugh slowly died away, leaving her with a wide, almost vicious grin.

"Who is that wretched witch?" she asked Sirius, something dark beneath her amusement. "Please tell me that's some distant ancestor of yours."

"I'm afraid that was my mother." Sirius snatched the curtains around his mother's portrait and slammed them closed, blotting out their view of the foul woman. Thankfully that silenced his mother. Or so it would be until the curtains opened up once again. "Nobody has been able to permanently silence her since we started using this house as Headquarters. And before you ask, her portrait is kept up by a permanent sticking charm."

"You use this place for Dumbledore's vigilante club then?" asked Edelweiss, more knowledgeable than she should be. "Quite brazen, using a house that must have belonged to his supporters during the previous war. Your relatives must be quite peaked they can no longer remember a family townhouse."

Sirius grimaced and shrugged. "Most of them are dead or in Azkaban. Only ones free are Andromeda, whose daughter is part of the Order, and Narcissa, who married Malfoy."

Edelweiss scowled upon hearing the name "Malfoy". Even so, she seemed content to say nothing else. Everyone who had been gathered for the meeting had emerged from the dining room or kitchen to find her with him and Remus. They stared at his goddaughter, shocked and stumped by her sudden arrival. Dumbledore pushed forward, his face set grimly, old and weathered.

"My dear girl, you had us all worried."

"I assume Figg realized I left, then?" After a moment of silence, she clicked her tongue. "I'm surprised the barmy old woman could actually use her eyes to see what's before her." Edelweiss frowned as she took in Number Twelve. She turned back to Sirius. "When was this place last cleaned? It's a dump."

"Welcome to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, Edelweiss," Sirius said, stretching his arms wide. A moment passed where she just stared at him, gobsmacked, and then she burst out laughing. He grinned, chuckling in turn. It was relieving to hear her laugh so joyfully. She had been a thin, angry thing when they reunited in the Shrieking Shack. And it had been a dark witch's cackle she released just minutes earlier. He regretted that he had left her in Hagrid's care that dreadful night. He regretted that he had chased after Peter.

Most of all, he regretted not trusting Dumbledore with the change in Secret Keeper.

"My dear girl—"

"I am not your dear girl," Edelweiss snarled, turning to face Dumbledore. "That ship, as far as I am concerned, has sailed." The air around her crackled with unbridled fury, charged by some unknown power. Perhaps, Sirius feared, the very power she had used upon a dementor. The Headmaster frowned, whereas everyone around him gasped and retreated from her poorly restrained power. "I am 'Miss Potter' to you, Headmaster. I will not suffer any other name from your lips."

"Miss Potter, then," Dumbledore said with a pinched expression. A few gasped. "I understand you are angry with me. But everything I have done has been for your own good. You must be protected—"

"Why?" she demanded, voice booming. "So I can be offered up as a sacrificial lamb? To be the totem of your war, the rallying beacon for your cause? I will see Voldemort"—Sirius, along with several others, flinched or yelped at the utterance—"dead for what he has done to my family. And you have done nearly as much harm as him. We are allies in this conflict, Headmaster. Nothing more. And after he is dead…" Edelweiss smirked before holding out her hands in mock uncertainty. "Well, I cannot say."

Gasps and outrage met the audacious and worrying declaration. Sirius found himself caught between offense Edelweiss would dare go against the Order of the Phoenix and fear he would need to step in between his goddaughter and his allies. Yet as he considered her words, he realized Edelweiss was seeking to verbally justify her hatred of Dumbledore. He feared she might take it too far. She was young and angry, too akin to his cousin Bellatrix for comfort.

The moment after the thought came to him, Sirius swallowed thickly. It was a terrifying thought: his precious goddaughter could become identical to his mad cousin. He needed to head off whatever troubled her as best he could, though it might be too late for Edelweiss. His failures continued to mount, building every day since he made the mistake of handing her over to Hagrid.

Edelweiss seemed unaware of the offense she had caused. She continued speaking, a hand raised to support her chin as she offered Dumbledore a sly smirk. "If you have something patronizing to say to me, perhaps we can save that for the morrow. I may even listen then, Headmaster." She turned to Sirius, a foot tapping impatiently. "I would appreciate something to eat, Sirius. I'm quite famished. Certainly, the House of Black has maintained some semblance of propriety."

A pop stole attention from Edelweiss. Sirius gaped, for Kreacher stood beside his goddaughter. The mad elf had appeared without anyone having to call for him with threats, just as he did during Sirius's childhood. He bowed, muttering, "Kreacher serves the House of Black still. What does—"

"Serves? How?" asked Edelweiss, sneering at the house around her. She then stepped into the kitchen. Sirius followed. Her gaze lingered on every cobweb and stain. "I'm shocked you were never given clothes. Or did your master die before they could expel you for such poor service?"

Kreacher grabbed his ears and twisted them. "Kreacher be a good elf. He serves his mistress; yes, he does; yes, he does."

Edelweiss glanced at Sirius, ignoring the worried look he shot her, and mouthed, "Your mother?" He nodded grimly. She sighed, turning her attention back to the house elf before her. "Kreacher. I am hungry and wish to eat a proper supper."

The elf sneered, returning to normal after a strange lucid moment. "Another filthy—"

"You would deny the Heir of Slytherin what she requires? Do you dare reject those invited by the Lord and Master of House Black?"

Kreacher squeaked, then snapped away. Edelweiss held stiff for a moment before sighing. She slumped against a nearby wall and shook her head. "Worry not about how I acted, Sirius. Just the… influence I feel from this house." Her emerald eyes flickered to him before she asked softly, "What happened here? I… I feel its darkness. Yet it is oddly cold."

"The House of Black has a dark history," Sirius said, glancing at the other members of the Order. Most watched his goddaughter with a distinct look of worry or concern. A few, such as Mad-Eye Moody, eyed her with expressions drifting toward distrust. "I'm surprised you noticed. Most witches and wizards wouldn't pick up on a house's aura so easily."

She shrugged just as Kreacher returned with a plate of steaming food. There were roast meats and vegetables, along with a bit of treacle tart to the side. The elf waited for her to take a seat at the dining table before setting the plate down before her. He snapped his fingers and a goblet appeared to her left.

"Wine, for Heiress Slytherin," the elf croaked.

"Return to your duties," Edelweiss commanded, reassuming the strange persona Sirius could only describe as 'Heiress Slytherin'. "I shall call you should I want for anything else, elf."

Kreacher nodded dutifully and then vanished with another soft pop.

"You'll need to teach me how to command Kreacher like that," said Sirius with only a hint of jealousy. "He's never taken orders from me so willingly."

Edelweiss frowned, holding a fork of meat. "Even when you were a boy?"

Sirius grimaced, deciding it would be best to not answer his goddaughter's probing question. He glanced at Dumbledore, who watched her with guarded blue eyes. The lightness he was accustomed to in the Headmaster's gaze was absent. Sirius found it strange that he had to peer into the old man's eyes to make sense of his feelings.

"Is there anything else you want, Headmaster?"

He mentally thanked his goddaughter for noticing, even as he flinched at her suddenness. Sirius stared at Edelweiss as she filled a plate with small portions from the venerable feast set before her. She ate quietly, her gaze never lingering too long on her meal. Each bite was the precise size his mother would have expected. It was as though Edelweiss had been raised in a pureblood family and not by muggles. Once more, Sirius wondered what damage Lily's wretched muggle sister had done to Edelweiss Potter to make her the way she was.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Potter." Dumbledore glanced at Sirius before turning back to Edelweiss. "Though I should warn you about this house. There are many dangers one can stumble upon, if they are not careful."

She peered at him, unimpressed as she held a bite of rabbit before her lips. "I would assume a house belonging to one of the most notorious dark families in Britain has dangers hidden about." Edelweiss's gaze swiveled to Sirius. "What areas are sealed away?"

"The library, for one."

"Disappointing, but unsurprising. Where else?"

"The potion labs in the basement."

Her mouth was open, the bite of rabbit nearly past her teeth. She paused, withdrew her bite, and frowned at him. "Truly?"

"And the Lord's suite," continued Sirius, not bothering to answer her question.

Edelweiss shrugged as she snatched the neglected bit of rabbit off her fork with her teeth. She made a small moaning sound as she chewed. Sirius wondered if her meal was that good, or if she knew Kreacher would be somewhere, minding how she enjoyed the meal.

"I'm surprised you didn't claim it for yourself," Edelweiss eventually said. "Unless you like sleeping in your childhood bedroom."

"This house brings back old memories. Ones I'd like to forget."

She nodded, even as her emerald eyes surveyed the kitchen as she continued her dinner. Her emotions were hidden well, but Sirius had grown up in a family of Slytherins. He had been forced to quickly learn how to peer behind false expressions. All he could wonder was when his goddaughter had the time and necessity to develop a mask of her own.

Another failure. Another mistake to rectify.

"I can take over with Edie, Sirius," said Mrs. Weasley as Edelweiss finished her meal. "She'll want to see her friends once she's done. She's sharing a room with Hermione and Ginny anywa—"

"Is there another room I could have?" Edelweiss asked Sirius. "One to myself?"

"Well, there's my brother's room," he began. Sirius glanced at Molly, who was glaring at him, fists upon her hips. "But I think you should be with your friends as well. You haven't seen them in months, and I imagine the letters you got from them weren't the best."

"I wonder why," his goddaughter replied monotonously. She acted emotionless as she rose to her feet, yet Sirius suspected a storm of wrath and fury brewed within her. It was written upon her face. Edelweiss glanced at him again, her emerald eyes completely blank, before granting Mrs. Weasley her full attention. "Show me the way, Mrs. Weasley. I should get the reunion out of the way."

Molly shot Sirius a smug, victorious look before bustling over to Edelweiss. She poked and prodded the girl about her weight. His goddaughter handled the questions and protests with ease, as though they reenacted this encounter every summer. Sirius feared his suspicion was true. He watched his goddaughter be escorted to the staircase. As Edelweiss went, she glanced back at him. The other members of the Order had dispersed for the night.

She proceeded to surprise him by smirking.

Edelweiss was dearly tempted to yank her arm away from Mrs. Weasley's grasp, but it was more dangerous to end up on the woman's bad side this early into the summer than to regain that moment of extra freedom. Chances were Mrs. Weasley ruled the roost despite being in another family's home. If Edelweiss wanted to find time for her Sith studies, she would need to twist Mrs. Weasley firmly around her finger. What she had seen of the Black's house was in dreadful shape, and thus the likelihood the Weasley matriarch had put her children to work cleaning the house was a dead certainty. Anything that reminded Edelweiss of the Dursleys was trouble indeed.

"How have you been, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "The children have been worried about you since you haven't written them back."

"If there was anything to say, I would've written it down. Not as though they troubled to do same."

"Dearie," Mrs. Weasley began with a frustratingly disappointed tone. Edelweiss's jaw clenched. "You must understand why their letters weren't as filled with details as they've been in the past. Letters can be intercepted."

"Can they now," Edelweiss bit out. Her anger welled, searing in her veins. "If that can happen, what's to stop Voldemort from sending me a letter disguised as a portkey? Can he not come up with such a simple plot to steal me away and murder me?"

Mrs. Weasley's lips pursed at the harsh response. Edelweiss took advantage of the matriarch's annoyance and went ahead, following the stairs past their first landing. She glanced at the wall along her right where several house elf heads were hung, mounted on wood plaques and stuffed like cheap taxidermy. She would question Kreacher about their presence another time. It was simple to assume it was done because they had served the House of Black well. Given Kreacher's failures, he would never join those heads in death.

When she reached the landing of the first floor, Edelweiss was rushed by a mass of bushy hair, just spotting a few signs of red hair before her vision was blotted out. She barely had enough time to raise her arms before Hermione Granger slammed into Edelweiss.

"Hello," said Edelweiss, trying to fight down her suppressed anger. Now was not the time to revel in her brewing hatred for her friends. Betrayal burned hot in her heart. "How has your summer been?" When Hermione did not immediately reply, Edelweiss continued. "Mine's been splendid, with poor letters and a dementor attack."

There was a long moment of silence, as her friends realized what she said. Hermione released her and stepped back with a shocked expression. Ginny blanched at the news, her eyes bulging wide.

And then the Twins popped into her space.

"Those are—"

"—no danger to you—"

"—Miss Patronus in her third year."

She forced a smile to her lips. They would panic if they learned that spell no longer worked for her. It was embarrassing how her anger at the Weasleys and Hermione prevented her from casting the Patronus Charm, for that very anger laid the foundation of her new powers.

"I handled them," she said plainly, glaring at who she assumed was Fred. Edelweiss knew the Force could tell her which Twin was which without trouble. But she was wary of using the Force so close to a handful of fellow witches and wizards. She would wait until she was behind a locked door—and perhaps on one of the higher floors—before returning to her lessons.

"Though not as you should have," said Mrs. Weasley, looming only a few feet away. "Albus told us what you did. Lightning magic? In the middle of a muggle neighborhood? What were you thinking?"

Edelweiss clenched her jaw. She wondered how she had been so easily caught in a proverbial corner. She sighed, slow and long, before muttering, "I was too angry to cast a patronus then. Perhaps if my friends had not kept me at arm's length this summer, I would've been in the proper mind to cast that charm." She glanced from face to face, taking note of those who looked genuinely pained and those not. "And so I did what had to be done."

Mrs. Weasley scowled with lips pursed as if she sucked on lemons. Her hands balled into fists, already having found a place on her hips. Disappointment rolled from her in waves. The Weasley children all withdrew on instinct. "You should have returned home instead, dearie. The wards around that house, along with the guard watching over you, were set up to keep you safe."

Edelweiss scowled and bit her tongue before something foolish could slip past her lips. Yes, her anger was a wellspring of power; but it was a power she had to keep secret until that fateful day when she could finally be reborn as Darth Gladiolus. That was a fate Mrs. Weasley would certainly try to prevent. The dark side was a power the matriarch would never accept, and she would do everything she could to stop Edelweiss was wielding it.

"I have my reasons," she muttered, turning away from Mrs. Weasley. "I am tired," she said preemptively, "and there won't be a separate room set aside for me. Hermione, Ginny. Which room are you using?"

"Over here," Ginny said heading for the doorway. She glanced at her mother behind Edelweiss. "Hermione's been in a right fit, waiting for you."

Edelweiss smiled. She slinked away from Hermione and the Twins, leaving behind Mrs. Weasley. Before Ginny could react to either Edelweiss or her mother, Edelweiss stepped past the Weasley girl and entered their small room, with its three beds and their trunks at the feet of every bed. There was a single desk, covered with piles of books.

Edelweiss yanked Ginny and Hermione into the room and then slammed the door shut. She leaned against it as Mrs. Weasley started banging against it, demanding she come back out and "discuss her attitude". Ginny and Hermione stared at her with horror. The former seemed particularly frightened, her face so pale every freckle was blatant across her cheeks.

"Don't," Edelweiss said, her gaze fixed upon Hermione. The door thundered again. "I know what you're thinking. I will not allow it."

Eventually, Mrs. Weasley realized her efforts were fruitless. The sound of grumbling and bustling drifted from the door and headed to the staircase.

"I just want to sleep," Edelweiss added as she stepped away from the door. She yawned into her hand before rubbing her face. "I can answer the plethora of questions you have on the morrow. No doubt Mrs. Weasley will tear into me at breakfast over my… comments tonight."

After a few seconds, Hermione said, "As long as you answer them honestly, Edie."

"I'll do my best," Edelweiss mumbled as she slumped over the only bed untouched by a sleeping shape. She shucked off the light clothes she had worn, ignoring the hisses and gasps at the sight of her ribs. She had grown so accustomed to being able to see them through her skin that it barely bothered her now.

That shall change, thought Edelweiss as she grumbled, "Don't ask."

With that, she turned over and showed them her back. It was still safe to do so with these two.

It was only as sleep dragged her down towards unconsciousness that Edelweiss realized she had left her trunk down in the kitchen.

Another matter for the morrow.