Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters belong to J.K. Rowling not me
It was a somber morning, with a dreary sky and blackened clouds looming ominously over the whole of London. However, such a day could never compare with the tense atmosphere within Grimmauld Place, once home to the narcissistic and racist Black family, and just recently announced headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. The Order served the complete opposite purpose. It was founded by chief warlock, Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore to ward off the evils presented by the Death Eaters and their notoriously evil leader, Dark Wizard, Lord Voldemort.
Sitting here in his convicted godfather's house, Harry Potter, 'The Boy Who Lived,' became lost in memory. Some memories were as sweet as butterbeer, like the ones of him and his two friends, Ron and Hermione, sharing frivolous jokes in Hogwart's Great Hall. Other memories were far more painful to remember, memories of the previous year's activities: the Triwizard Tournament, the tragic murder of Cedric Diggory, and those pitiless red eyes of Lord Voldemort peering murderously up at him from the brim of a cauldron.
Harry squeezed his emerald green eyes in agony of the thought. Inside his head, his cruel imagination continued to replay the events of that very night. Many wizards and witches his age, naïve and innocent, had congratulated him for winning the Triwizard Cup, but they had never witnessed the death of a true friend. They, he hoped with all his heart, would never lay eyes on a sinister flash of green light. No, they certainly weren't the one that saw the Dark Lord rise again.
'Stop your crying,' rang a sudden voice. 'You're going to flood the house, though I daresay I never really liked the home décor my mother chose.'' Harry spun around to see none other than Sirius Black, his mischievous godfather, smiling kindly at him in the doorway. Harry couldn't help but return Sirius's smile, there was a sort of air about Sirius that seemed to cast away all of his worries, similar to how phoenix song reminded him greatly of Dumbledore's protection.
'Come here,'' Sirius spread out his hands to offer a friendly hug. Harry didn't spare a moment of hesitation and swiftly landed himself between Sirius's arms. How could he not want to spend precious time with his godfather? After all, he had not seen Sirius in two years, after him and his close friends saved the innocent man from a terrible fate.
Not long after Harry left Sirius's loving embrace, the Weasley's had entered the room. First came Molly, the warm matriarch of the family, followed by the Weasley twins, Fred and George, with suspicious smiles painted plainly on their young faces. 'Hi Harry,'' they said all at once in a manner that Harry knew too well. The twins were up to something chaotic for certain, as they always were. 'Harry,'' whispered George, 'do not, whatever you do, open the third drawer to the right of the sink, you hear me?'' 'The third drawer…to the right of the sink, that sounds oddly specific don't you think?'' Harry asked wryly. 'What are you two up to?'' 'Two?'' asked Fred. 'How can you be so accusatory!'' Fred inquired with a slight giggle. Harry shot both boys a sarcastic glance, cocking his head humorously to the side as he did so. 'Alright, alright,'' repeated Fred. 'I'm in on it too, but promise you won't tell mum.'' Harry didn't bother to protest for whether he knew the twin's schemes or not, he also was quite aware of Fred and George's determination to cause a little trouble. They would carry on with their plans regardless of the furious wrath of Molly Weasley. 'Listen,'' he heard George whisper in his ear, 'let's just say there's a tiny surprise waiting for mum in that oddly specific drawer.''