12 Grimmauld Place
The next morning, before the sun had crested the London skyline, Hazel, Evervine, and Marcel met Harry, Ron, and Hermione at the inconspicuous corner near 12 Grimmauld Place. They had arrived at the exact same moment, synchronized by powerful ward-jumping spells, so no one was truly given the opportunity to be confused.
A small canary fluttered from Harry's shoulder to Hazel's. Shylah had to jump Harry, Ron, and Hermione there, due to their underage status.
Hazel knew the secret and could see the house suddenly emerge between the two dilapidated townhouses, as she looked at the row of homes. She was not the Secret-Keeper, but her advanced Star Academy training allowed her to perceive the house's dimensional anchors, which she could then communicate to the others.
The others nodded in approval as the house revealed itself to them, its presence a jarring, depressing, almost ancient, contrast to the muggle architecture to either side of it.
"Come on. Let's get this over with," Hazel said, impatient with the dusty historical setting.
She looked to her brother, Harry. "We can go to Gringotts as well. I still have the gold and jewels from the World Quidditch Cup, we really should deposit that."
He smiled and nodded, always happy to spend unscheduled time with his sister, even if it involved the oppressive atmosphere of the old Black estate.
Evervine frowned, odd uncertainty trickling across her face as she walked up the stairs to the door. "It cannot be as bad as you say. It's just a house."
Hazel just shrugged, deciding to let her friend find out for herself.
The door opened with a rusty groan, and an old, miserable house elf watched them enter with large, bloodshot eyes.
Hazel smiled broadly at the elf, bending down slightly. "How are you, Kreacher? Uncle Sirius treating you better?"
The old house elf mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, but he flashed her a quiet, almost imperceptible smile. The small canary rose from Hazel's shoulder and shook its feathers. Sparks of golden light rained down as Shylah took her natural, glowing Star Bird form, like someone shaking the wrinkles out of their clothes.
Hazel scoffed. "Why do you always choose the smallest bird you can think of? It's completely impractical."
"Why does En have to be so old fashioned?" Shylah retorted, her voice a melodious, ringing chirp.
Kreacher made an odd, choked noise, a mixture of disgust and reverence. "Kreacher can take Lady Shylah to her space. It is only fitting."
"Thank you, little elf." Shylah landed gently on Kreacher's outstretched arm, and Kreacher, with a slow shuffle, walked through a dusty section of the wall near the door and disappeared.
"If that is a house elf, why is this place so… disgusting?" Marcel frowned, trying desperately not to touch anything in the entrance hall.
Evervine was a bit more adventurous, but still made sure she touched nothing. Her eyebrows arched as she looked Hazel as if she were waiting on the explanation.
Hazel walked up the main stairs with a shrug. "Sirius treats him rather badly, which is why the house is a mess. They have a classic, complex love-hate relationship, which is mostly just hate on Kreacher's side."
"Really?" Hermione frowned in immediate concern as she looked at the last place the house elf had been, already plotting a clean-up schedule.
"I am not mean to him. He is just old and useless," a voice boomed from the top of the stairs. Sirius Black swooped down, picked up Hazel, and hugged her tight, even as she rolled her eyes at his dramatic entrance.
He put her down and grabbed Harry, leading him away with a conspiratorial grin. "Come on, Harry. Let's give you the twenty-cent tour." Harry and Ron fell in line and followed Sirius to parts of the house unknown.
Hazel continued up the main stairs, heading for a parlor she remembered. "I'm cleaning this place up next time, Sirius! You can't live like this."
"Kreacher has it covered!" he called back, a clear lie.
Hazel sighed and ignored him. They came to a large, framed landscape of a vast valley. In the distance, a small, cozy house was nestled, and there were four small figures sitting outside, seemingly enjoying the sun.
Hazel took out her white birch-wood wand. She tapped a steady beat on the top right corner of the frame as she spoke the activation incantation, the words soft but potent.
"It is a beautiful day. A promise on the wind of the unknown. Can I and these three please know the Valley of Nevermore?"
The landscape shimmered, the painted canvas rippling like water. In the next breath, Hazel, Hermione, Evervine, and Marcel stood on a patch of lush, blue-green grass. The small, welcoming house and the four people were right before them, perfectly real.
Neville, Frank, and Alice Longbottom stood, wide smiles on their faces, ready to greet them.