The next morning, Jake was woken up by Hermione. She explained that everyone else was afraid to wake him and risk his wrath, and that they knew sending Hermione in to wake him up was the safest bet, "Molly said today we are taking care of those doxies in the drawing room today after breakfast. She was a bit hesitant to suggest it after what happened yesterday, but she didn't want to put it off any longer."
"I could just torch all of the doxies if Sirius doesn't care about the curtain?" He suggested as he got out of bed to carefully get dressed.
"You can't go around torching and exploding everything," Hermione said, enjoying the view.
"Why not?" He asked as he just pulled his pants up, brushing up against his scarred areas he got from yesterday, taking a moment afterward to adjust himself and his boxers in them before he moved to put his shirt on.
Hermione took a moment to answer him, but not to think of her answer, "Because then there's no fun to try and critically think it through... Jake?"
"Yeah?" He asked, about to pull his shirt on.
"Can you wait a moment to put your shirt on?" She thought nothing of her question.
"Uh... I mean... that's a weird way to ask wanting to see my upper body shirtless," he said, feeling his face burn slightly.
Hermione's face burned to the point of her cheeks changing to a deep red, "That's not what I meant!" She yelled, feeling flustered all of a sudden, "I meant your scars... I wanted to ask about them..."
He looked down and saw his scars he'd gotten last summer and some from this summer, "Oh..." he paused and looked at her, "I'll tell you about them tonight before we go to bed, deal?"
"I'm holding you to that," Hermione stood up and walked to the door as he finished pulling his shirt on, groaning from the way he moved his arms, shoulders, and the muscles underneath. "Oh yeah, she also said that she found a nest of dead puffskeins under the sofa."
Jake was the last one to enter the drawing room, and Molly said nothing about his tardiness. He saw his friends all with cloth over their noses and Hermione handed him something, which he painfully tied around his mouth. He wasn't going to ask for help from anyone, he was just too damn stubborn, pride had nothing to do with it. She also handed him a large spray bottle with black liquid inside, "Doxycide, nice."
"I've never seen an infestation so bad," Molly said with exasperation, " what that House-Elf's been doing for the last ten years-"
Hermione wanted to argue, but Kreacher, she found it hard to defend him, "If he hadn't been alone with Sirius' mothers' portrait..."
"Well, you're right about that," Sirius said, entering the room, "being alone with that shrieking banshee for ten years will drive absolutely anyone mad." He chuckled and Jake saw him carrying a bloodstained bag, of what he didn't know, "I've just been feeding Buckbeak," Sirius said when he saw Jake looking at the bag, "I keep him upstairs in my mother's bedroom. She's not using it anymore," his smirk was unmissable.
A loud, clanging bell sounded from downstairs, "Must be Kingsley," Sirius said and left, pulling the door shut behind him.
Molly was bent over a book that Jake recognized to be a book by Gilderoy Lockhart, "You've got to be kidding me..." Jake said, sighing.
"What?" Molly looked up at him to see what was wrong.
"A book by Lockhart? Seriously?" He tried to remain calm, but after how useless the man proved to be, he wanted to just torch the book right then and there.
"The man may have been a fraud," Hermione said, "and even I hate to admit this, but the information about Magical Creatures in his books were at least accurate, even if he had no idea how to actually deal with them himself."
Jake sighed, "Fine," his voice, for a moment, sounded gravelly, and Hermione found it to be oddly attractive coming from him.
Molly looked back to the book, "Right, you lot, you need to be careful, because doxies bite and their teeth are poisonous."
"Because of course they are," Jake said snidely.
"I've got a bottle of antidote here, but I'd rather nobody need it."
"If anyone ends up needing it," Fred started.
"It'll probably be Jake with how his track record is," George finished.
"Not funny," Hermione said, remembering how Jake looked before and after getting the chunks of wood out of his body; nothing about that was funny to her. She may have had some lewd thoughts when he was undressing and undressed, but it still wasn't funny.
Molly had them all positioned evenly in front of the curtain, "When I say the word, start spraying immediately," she said, "they'll come flying out at us, I expect, but it says on the sprays one good squirt will paralyze them. When they're immobilized, just throw them in this bucket." She stepped carefully up beside them, her own spray bottle in hand, "All right - spray !"
Jake sprayed and a second later, a fully grown Doxy flew out of the fold in the material. It had shiny beetle-like wings whirring to keep it airborne, tiny needle-sharp teeth bared at him, and its fairy-like body was covered with thick black hair and its four tiny fists were clenched with fury. Jake nonchalantly sprayed it, which immobilized it in midair and it fell to the floor with a loud thunk , causing dust to fly up from the carpet.
He tossed it into the bucket and continued on, "Fred, what are you doing!?" Molly said sharply, "Spray that at once and throw it away!"
"Right-o," he heard Fred say brightly. He paid no mind to what anyone was doing while he set forth with his task.
The de-doxying of the curtains took most of the morning. It was past midday when Molly removed the protective scarf she had been wearing and sank into the sagging armchair. The curtains were no longer buzzing; they hung limp and damp from the intensive spraying; unconscious doxies lay crammed into a bucket on the floor, a bowl of their black eggs beside them. Crookshanks had started to sniff it, and Fred and George were shooing him away, "I think we'll tackle those after lunch," she was pointing at the dusty glass-fronted cabinets standing on either side of the mantelpiece. They were crammed with an odd assortment of objects: a selection of rusty daggers, claws, a coiled snakeskin, a number of tarnished silver boxes inscribed with old languages Jake didn't recognize and, least pleasant of all, an ornate crystal bottle with a large opal set into a stopper, full of what Jake recognized as blood.
The doorbell rang again and Molly said she'd be right back with sandwiches. Immediately, everyone but Jake rushed over to the window when the door latched shut behind her. It wasn't that he wasn't curious, he just couldn't move quickly, so he didn't bother getting up.
"Mundungus? What's he brought all those cauldrons for?" Hermione asked.
"Probably looking for a safe place to keep them," Harry said with a hint of loathing in his voice, "Isn't that what he was doing the night he was supposed to be tailing me? Picking up dodgy cauldrons?"
"Yeah, you're right!" Fred said in an 'aha' moment, "Blimey, mum won't like that..."
Fred and George crossed the room and stood by the door, "Sounds like Mundungus is talking to Sirius and Kingsley..." George muttered, "can't hear properly... reckon we ought to-"
Before George could say anything further, the sound of a shrieking banshee was heard again through the house, but this time it was very clearly Molly Weasley, as Jake had destroyed Sirius' mothers portrait, "WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!"
"I love hearing Mum shouting at someone else," Fred said with a satisfied smile on his face as he opened the door an inch to let her voice fill the room more easily, "It makes such a nice change."
"-COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN'T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS INTO THE HOUSE-"
"The idiots are letting her get into her stride," George said as he shook his head, "You've got to head her off early, otherwise she builds up a head of steam and goes on for hours. And she's been dying to have a go at Mundungus ever since he sneaked off when he was supposed to be watching you, Harry."
"I think I finally agree with her on something..." Jake said and a shiver went down Hermione's spine with how he said it. She knew it had for everyone else if it did her, because she was rarely bothered with what he said or how he said it. She wasn't afraid of him, but even he could send a shiver down her spine, and not just in the good sort of way.
George made to shut the door because he was tired of hearing his mothers banshee cries, when a House-Elf wandered into the room. Except for the filthy rag tied like a loincloth around its middle, it was completely naked, 'This must be Kreacher...' Jake thought to himself. He looked very old. His skin seemed to be several times too big for himself, and while he was bald like all other House-Elves, Jake saw the distinct look of White Hairs growing out of Kreacher's large, bat-like ears. His eyes were bloodshot and watery gray, and his fleshy nose was rather large and snout-like.
Kreacher took absolutely no notice of the rest of them in the room. Upon further examination, Jake deduced that Kreacher seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking at them. He shuffled hunchback, slowly and doggedly, toward the far end of the room. He was muttering under his breath all the while in a hoarse, deep voice like a bullfrog's, "... Smells like a drain of criminal to boot, but she's no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my poor Mistress's House... oh my poor Mistress, whoever destroyed you from the wall will pay dearly... if she knew of the scum they've let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher? Oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves... poor old Kreacher, what can he do...?"
"Hello, Kreacher," Fred said loudly, closing the door with a resounding snap.
Kreacher froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, and then gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise, "Kreacher did not see Young Master," he said, turning and bowing to Fred, then while looking at the floor, added quite audibly, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."
"Sorry?" George spoke up, "Didn't quite catch that last bit."
"Kreacher said nothing," he said with a second bow to George, adding in a clear undertone, "and there's its twin, unnatural little beasts they are."
Jake had to admit, he was impressed at the House-Elf's ability to throw insults without batting an eye, or regard to the person's presence was most impressive.
Kreacher stood up as straight as he could and eyed them all malevolently; Jake noticed that his eyes lingered on him a moment longer than anyone, except for Harry, and he continued muttering as though he figured no one could hear him, "And there's the Mudblood, standing bold as brass... oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry, and there are two new boys Kreacher doesn't recognize, Kreacher doesn't know their names, what they are doing here, Kreacher doesn't know..." Jake had stood up and slowly walked in Hermione's direction.
"This is Harry Potter, Kreacher, and this is-" Hermione was speaking tentatively, but Kreacher interrupted her with more muttering.
"The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is my friend... if Kreacher's Mistress saw him in such compan- aggh!" Kreacher yelled out as he was suddenly lifted into the air.
"Call Hermione a Mudblood one more time, and I'll send you straight to the same place I sent your Mistress," Jake said as his eye glowed red.
Kreacher's large eyes widened even more as he glared loathingly and scathing at Jake, "You took my Mistress away from me!"
"I did... I don't care that you're a House-Elf, you call Hermione a Mudblood again and I'm going to remove your mouth, permanently," Jake got right in Kreacher's face.
"Jake, it's alright, I've been dealing with it since I got here," Hermione said as though it was okay.
"You've been dealing with a racist House-Elf since you got here?" Jake asked, slightly surprised.
"I've just been ignoring him... I may want all House-Elves to be free and treated fairly, but that doesn't mean I'm going to defend Kreacher's actions, I just ignore him half the time," Hermione answered.
"Jake? Jake Kidd?" Kreacher asked, looking suddenly scared.
"The one and only," Fred said with a smirk, "the Jake Kidd that Sirius said was Merlin's last living Descendant."
Even being suspended in midair, Kreacher visibly tried bowing his head, "The last living member of the Most Noble and Most Ancient Bloodline. Please, forgive Kreacher's insolence and have mercy on his soul."
A clanging sound was heard from the doorway. Jake turned and saw Sirius; he set Kreacher down, who promptly got on his hands and knees and pushed his face into the dusty carpet. His eye stopped glowing red, and Sirius was stunned into silence. He stared at Kreacher, "He didn't act like that when I was talking about you to the Order. I even mentioned the fact you were of the Ambrosius bloodline to one of them that didn't know, loud enough for Kreacher to have heard it as he was skulking in the background, but he acted like he didn't even hear me."
"My Mistress talked about Ambrosius House with great admiration," Kreacher said in a muffled voice, still face first on the carpet, "if there was one family she held in higher regard than her own, it was Ambrosius. She said that Ambrosius was what every Pure-Blood family should strive to be."
"Blood purity... it was everything to my family..." Sirius spat.
Jake looked back to Kreacher, "Don't bow to me, I'm not your Master, but don't ever use that word towards Hermione again, or we are going to have a problem."
"Yes, sir... Kreacher will not refer to her as a Mudblood anymore..." It surprised everyone when he didn't begin muttering under his breath. Jake pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling and exhaling slowly.
"What are you up to, Kreacher?" Sirius asked him.
"Kreacher is cleaning," he said to Sirius, standing up to look at him, "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black-"
"- and it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy," Sirius said.
"Master always liked his little joke," Kreacher said, bowing again, and continued in an undertone, "Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart-"
"My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher," Sirius snapped at him, "she kept herself alive out of pure spite."
Kreacher bowed again and said, "Whatever Master says," then muttered furiously, "Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother's boots, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was-"
"I asked what you were up to," Sirius said coldly, "Every time you show up pretending to be cleaning, you sneak something off to your room so we can't throw it out."
"Kreacher would never move anything from its proper place in Master's home," he said, then muttered very fast, "Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown out, seven centuries it's been in the family, Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and the blood traitors and the brats destroy it-"
"I thought it might be that," Sirius said, casting a disdainful look at the opposite wall, "she'll have put another Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, I don't doubt, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will. Now go away, Kreacher."
Kreacher proceeding to make his way out of the room, it being a direct order from Sirius, but on the way out, no one missed the look of some of the deepest loathing a face could ever have that Kreacher gave Sirius as he muttered, "- comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's a murderer too-"
"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!" Sirius said irritably and he slammed the door shut on the elf.
"Sirius," Hermione said, "Kreacher's been alone for too long... he's not right in the head because of it. I don't think he realizes we can hear his muttering."
"I agree he has been alone for too long, taking mad orders from my mother's portrait. He won't anymore now that it's gone... which reminds me, Jake," Sirius looked over at him, "do you think you could get rid of the tapestry like you did my mother's portrait?"
"I can most certainly try, but it's a lot thinner than the portrait was, so I'll have to set aside at least a half hour of concentration to be able to do so, especially if you don't want the wall behind it destroyed too," he answered, and that seemed to be what Sirius wanted to hear.
He then walked across the room, where the tapestry Kreacher had been trying to protect hung the length of the wall. They all followed him to get a better look.
The Tapestry itself looked immensely old; it was faded and looked as though doxies had gnawed it in places; nevertheless, the golden thread with which it was embroidered still glinted brightly enough to show them a sprawling family tree dating back all the way to the Middle Ages. Large words at the very top of the tapestry read:
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
"Toujour Pur"
"You're not on here!" Harry said after scanning the bottom.
"I used to be there," Sirius said, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, which looked like a lit cigar had been placed over it, "my sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home - Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath."
"You ran away from home?" Harry asked.
"When I was about sixteen," Sirius replied, "I'd had enough."
"Where did you go?" Harry asked, staring at him.
"Your dad's place," Sirius smiled, "your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's during the school holidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place of my own, my Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold - that would explain why he's been wiped off here too - anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr. and Mrs. Potter's fpr Sunday lunch, though."
"But... why did you...?"
"Leave?" Sirius smiled bitterly and ran a hand through his long, unkempt hair, "because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal... my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them... that's him." Sirius jabbed a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at the name REGULUS BLACK. A date of death, which was about fifteen years prior, followed the date of birth.
"This reminds me of your family tree, Jake," Hermione whispered to him, "the only real difference I see is that yours displays Blood Status beside them."
'I wonder why that is...' Jake thought to himself, 'Unless the House of Black isn't as Pure as Sirius' mother wanted everyone to believe?'
"He was younger than me," they heard Sirius say, "and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."
"But he died..." Harry said slowly.
"Yeah, stupid idiot..." Sirius looked at Harry, "he joined the Death Eaters."
"You're kidding!?" Harry yelled.
"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea. They were all for the purification of the Wizarding Race, getting rid of Muggleborns and having Purebloods in charge. They weren't alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things... they got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."
"Was he killed by an Auror?" Harry asked.
"Oh, no," Sirius said grimly, "no, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders more likely, I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to ever be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime service, or death."
"Lunch," came Molly's voice from the doorway. She had her wand out high in front of her, balancing a huge tray loaded with sandwiches and cake on its tip. She was very red in the face and still looked angry.
Hermione looked at Jake, "Stay here, I'll bring you something."
"Okay," he said and everyone but he and Harry went over to her.
Sirius bent closer to the tapestry, "I haven't looked at this for years... there's Phineas Nigellus... my great-great-grandfather, see? Least popular Headmaster Hogwarts ever had... and Araminta Meliflua... cousin of my mother's, she tried to force through a bill in the Ministry to make Muggle-Hunting legal... and dear Aunt Elladora, she started the family tradition of beheading House-Elves when they got too old to carry tea trays... of course, anytime the family produced someone halfway decent, they were disowned... I see Tonks isn't on here... probably why Kreacher won't take orders from her - he's supposed to do what anyone in the family asks."
"You and Tonks are related?" Harry asked, his eyebrows going up.
"Oh yeah, her mother, Andromeda, was my favorite cousin," Sirius said, examining the tapestry carefully, "No... Andromeda's not on here either." He pointed to another burn mark between two names, Bellatrix and Narcissa.
"The same Narcissa that married Lucius Malfoy?" Jake asked in a surprised tone.
"The very same, yes," Sirius said with disgust. He saw the look on Harry's face, "The Pureblood families are all interrelated, well, maybe that's not entirely true," he looked at Jake, "none of the pureblood families still around in Britain are related to Ambrosius at all. Do you know if you're a pureblood, Jake?"
"I am. I've seen the Ambrosius Family Tree, all purebloods, but most of the purebloods Ambrosius married died out as their own, but live on in the Ambrosius Blood, my Blood. There were some attempts to have children with Muggles and Muggleborns, but those children didn't get to have children of their own..." he trailed off, not wanting to talk more about it.
"I'm sorry," was all Sirius said before changing back to his own Family Tree, "But if you're only going to let your son or daughter marry purebloods, your options are limited, very limited. There are hardly any of us left..." Sirius sighed, "Molly and I are cousins by marriage, and Arthur's something like my second cousin once removed. No point looking for them here, though - if there ever were a family that was known for being blood traitors, it would be the Weasley's."
"Lestrange..." Harry said loud enough for Jake to hear.
"They're in Azkaban," Sirius said shortly, "Bellatrix and her husband, Rodolphus, came in with Barty Crouch Jr.," his voice was brusque, "Rodolphus' brother, Rabastan, was with then too."
Hermione came over and Jake's full attention was on her, causing him to miss Harry and Sirius continuing to talk, "Sorry that took so long, my stomach started growling and I couldn't wait any longer before I started eating," she said and handed him a sandwich.
"How many did you eat for it to take you that long?" He asked, chuckling as he took the sandwich, "Thank you."
Hermione's face was turning red, "Just two... and a half..."
He smiled at her, taking a bite into the sandwich as Harry and Sirius walked over to get some food as well.
Hermione watched and waited until they were far enough away, and turned back to Jake, "I managed to sneak you over something."
He swallowed his food, "What would that be?" He looked at her as she got closer.
"This," and she gave him a quick, risky, two second kiss.
He smirked at her, "Is there enough for more later?"
"Always," Hermione smirked back at him, giving him another quick peck on the lips.
*******
Over the next week and a half, they were kept busy enough helping to make the place more livable, which didn't bother Jake any. It had taken him a full week to make the basement at Merlin's Tower not look so disastrous.
The only thing left after they got finished with the cleaning was the tapestry with the Black Family Tree, which Jake said he'd take care of with thirty minutes of concentration so he didn't destroy the wall behind it. He was currently sitting in front of it, having just started his concentration. Hermione had requested to watch him, and he obviously had nothing against it.
Hermione was busy rereading Hogwarts: A History for the hundredth or so time while she waited. No matter how many times she read the book, she never got tired of it. She glanced up at Jake, knowing that it was his favorite book as well after learning about Hogwarts and Magic.
She looked up after thirty minutes had passed, and she closed the book, setting it aside to wait for him to get rid of the tapestry. He told her to go and get Sirius to show him the end result when he was done.
Another minute passed and nothing had happened. She knew he was concentrating, because she was now feeling his power exuding from him. She hadn't felt it a half hour ago, and knew he was close to succeeding.
She suddenly saw the tapestry ignite into flames for a second, and then it was gone, the wall behind it perfectly intact, "You did it!" She ran from the room to get Sirius.
She came back with Sirius and Harry, and the former of which was smiling ear to ear, "I never would've believed it had I not seen what you did to my mother's portrait... Jake, you are truly a magnificent human being!"
Jake had stood up, with some struggle, and looked at him, "You're not the first person to think that..." He didn't glance at Hermione, but she knew he was talking about her being the first person to actually say that to him.
Sirius' smile faded some as he looked at Harry, "Two days from now is Harry's hearing at the Ministry..." he looked back to them, "he hopes I can go with him as Snuffles... and I hope I get to go with him... I haven't been out of this house in over a month and it's driving me insane."
Jake's smile faltered, "I wish you could, but I don't see it happening..."
Sirius looked reproachful, "It is a long shot, I know that..."
That night, just before going to bed, Hermione snuck into Jake's room after he let her in. He greeted her with a kiss just after closing the door, "So, about your scars..." Hermione started.
"Yeah..." Jake walked with her to his bed and they both sat down, "About them... last summer... before I went to the Burrow... I was practicing firing spells at myself-"
"You what!?" Hermione looked shocked.
"I know how that sounds, but remember when Malfoy fired a spell at me when my back was turned?" He asked.
"Yeah... you didn't flinch at all... are you saying you were disciplining yourself on not shying away from spells flying towards you?" She asked in awe.
"Yeah, if I can not react to a spell flying towards me, knowing it's going to miss, I can maybe throw off any opponent, that's the hope anyway... how many Witches or Wizards can have a spell flying right by their head or graze their ear and not even flinch?"
"My guess is very few... of course," Hermione couldn't help her half-smirk, "only a fool would dare challenge you. Everyone in the Wizarding Community knows you, or should know you, and they would know how powerful you are, how unmatched your power is. That's why I think Malfoy suffers brain damage, it's why he keeps taunting you, Harry, Ron, or I, despite everything that's happened to him."
"He is an odd one..." Jake agreed, 'If he knew that Voldemort was afraid of me... would it change his demeanor? It's not like I can say that to him, though... even if he doesn't believe me... I don't want anyone else knowing...'
"Maybe one day he'll get the hint?" Hermione asked him rhetorically.
"Nah, he's a glutton for punishment, or pain... or both," Jake gave a hoarse laugh.
"Well, I should get back to my room before Ginny wakes up to see me gone. I'll see you in the morning," Hermione kissed his forehead, "I love you."
"I love you too, Hermione, sleep well," he smiled at her as she walked away.
"You too," she smiled back, "and for the record... all of your scars make you extremely fanciable," and she pulled his door quietly closed.
*******
Tomorrow evening at the dinner table, Molly turned to Harry, "I've ironed out your best clothes for tomorrow morning, Harry, and I want you to wash your hair tonight too. A good first impression can work wonders."
"That reminds me, Mrs. Weasley," Jake said respectfully, and she looked taken aback, "I was wondering if I could get you to give me a haircut while Harry is gone to the Ministry? There hasn't really been time to do it since I got here, but I think tomorrow will be a good time?"
"Oh, well of course, Jake. I've had to cut Charlie's, Fred's, George's, and Ron's many years. Ginny won't let me and Bill never let me cut his hair," Molly said and all of her kids had annoyed looks on their faces.
"How am I getting there?" He asked Molly.
"Arthur's taking you to work with him," she said gently.
Arthur smiled encouragingly across the table at Harry, "You can wait in my office until it's time for the hearing," he said.
Sirius looked quite miffed and wasn't saying anything, but he was forking his potato spitefully. Before Harry could speak to Sirius, Molly spoke first, "Professor Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea for Sirius to go with you, and I must say I-"
"- think he's quite right ," Sirius said through clenched teeth.
Molly pursed her lips, "When did Dumbledore tell you that?" Harry asked, staring at Sirius.
"He came last night, when you were in bed," Arthur said.
If it were possible, Jake saw Harry's mood worsen even more than it already had.