Lupin and Mrs. Weasley rushed forward, struggling desperately to drag the curtains shut over the old woman, but they wouldn't close properly, and she screamed even louder, clawing at the air as though trying to rake their faces.
"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks—begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers—"
Tonks apologized repeatedly while heaving the enormous, heavy troll-leg umbrella stand upright. Mrs. Weasley had abandoned her curtain battle and was dashing frantically about the hall, stunning other portraits with her wand.
A lean, wild-haired man burst from behind a door, bellowing at the shrieking portrait:
"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut up!"
With tremendous effort, he and Lupin finally forced the curtains closed. The crone's screeches died instantly, leaving ringing silence that seemed to pulse in their ears.
Sirius turned, his face granite-hard, scanning each of them before his gaze settled on Orli.
"You've met my mother, I see. Charming woman."
"This is Sirius's house..." Harry whispered barely audibly in Orli's ear. Her expression matched Sirius's awkward rigidity.
They followed Sirius down to the basement kitchen—a cavernous chamber of rough stone walls that felt like descending into medieval dungeons. Most light came from a massive fire at the far end, while menacing smoke hung in the air like battlefield fog. Sinister-looking pots and pans dangled from the blackened ceiling like instruments of torture.
Meeting chairs crowded the space around a long wooden table buried under rolled parchments, goblets, and empty wine bottles.
Clearly this served as Order headquarters more than dining room. Orli surveyed the gloom, finally understanding why Snape despised this place. Even his dungeon office was infinitely superior—at least there, everything maintained perfect, methodical order.
"I need assistance if you lot want lunch!" Mrs. Weasley announced, wielding a massive iron cauldron.
"Can I help, Molly?" Tonks asked eagerly, practically bouncing.
Mrs. Weasley hesitated—understandably.
"Er—no, everything's under control, Tonks. You rest—you've done quite enough today."
"No, no, I want to help!" Tonks called cheerfully, immediately knocking over another stool as she rushed toward the counter. Lupin trailed behind, cleaning up her wake.
Soon, under Mrs. Weasley's vigilant supervision, heavy chopping sounds echoed as others retrieved plates, goblets, and supplies from cupboards.
Fred and George cast spells on a huge stew pot, a block of crystallized honey, a heavy cutting board, and a carving knife—all projectiles aimed directly at Orli and Sirius at table's end.
The stew pot slid the table's length, braking sharply at the edge while leaving a long scorched trail across the wood. The honey block crashed down, splattering golden fragments everywhere. The bread knife landed point-first, quivering in the exact spot where Sirius's right hand had rested moments before.
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