Chapter 3
“MUDBLOODS AND FILTHY HALF-BREEDS BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY ANCESTORS!”
Sullivan looked up with a start as a shrill voice screamed from the hallway, interrupting Sirius from his discussion of the wards surrounding Grimmauld Place; there were some pretty creative ones, courtesy of Sirius, who had been bored, apparently.
Sullivan withdrew his wand and stood up, unconsciously reaching with his magic and causing the shadows to flicker.
Sirius rose with an irritated expression. He stalked out of the room with Sullivan following carefully behind. Once out, Sullivan saw Sirius having a shouting match with a portrait.
“-YOU! YOU DARE ENTER THIS-”
“Shut up, you old hag!”
Sullivan blinked at the odd scene before him. Sirius and another tall person with sandy blond hair and amber eyes were each yanking at one curtain that bordered the sides of a portrait of an older woman, who was screaming her lungs out.
Sullivan pointed his wand at the portrait and hissed in parseltongue, “Close.”
The curtain snapped shut at once, and peace resumed. Sullivan smirked in triumph as the unknown man and Sirius turned to him, blinking.
“How-” Sirius trailed off.
“Parseltongue,” Sullivan answered the unspoken question, “Rather effective. It’s got me out of a tough spot or two before.”
Sirius blinked but seemed to accept the minimal explanation. He then gestured to another door that Sullivan could hear voices behind. “Are we having a meeting, Moony?” He looked at the blonde man, in question.
“Yes,” the man, (Moony?), blinked, “Albus said he had someone to introduce,” He not-so-subtly eyed Sullivan. Sirius nodded, playfully shoving Moony (?) towards the closed door. Sullivan had the impression that those two were close and had a lot of history together.
Moony opened the door and walked through. Sirius followed, beckoning Sullivan to follow, which he did.
In the centre of the room was a large table, likely able to seat thirty people comfortably. Around fifteen of those seats were full.
They looked at him curiously, likely unaccustomed to seeing new faces around here.
“Ah... Sullivan!” he looked up to see Dumbledore striding towards him.
Sullivan inclined his head towards him, “Dumbledore.” The man placed a hand on Sullivan’s shoulder, and he had to resist the urge to shake it off, unused to overly affectionate people and touches.
Dumbledore gestured towards the table, “Come now, my boy, have a seat, and we may begin.” Obediently, Sullivan moved to sit next to a paranoid looking mad with a fake eye and leg who looked at him suspiciously.
“Wonderful!” Sullivan turned back to Dumbledore, who was now standing at the head of the table, eyes twinkling while he beamed. “Now, before we begin, I would like to introduce you to a new member of ours, who will be staying here for the time being,” People eyed Sullivan curiously, “I would like to introduce you to Sullivan Riddle,” Dumbledore gestured to Sullivan, eyes still twinkling. There was a murmur of tense recognition from one of the few in the room, however the majority did not seem to recognise the name. “The son of the Dark Lord Voldemort,” he continued, his voice followed by the yells of the other occupants of the room.
“Are you mad?”
“-Devil spawn,”
“Albus, are you sure-”
“Enough!” Dumbledore shot sparks out of his wand and wordlessly disarmed the paranoid-looking man, who had been aiming at Sullivan. Effectively silencing the group. “I assure you, Sullivan is no threat.”
“Are you sure, Albus, the dark lord-”
“Not a threat. Are you mad?”
Sullivan grew annoyed, stood up and shot sparks into the air out of his wand. “Yes,” he said, “I am the son of the Dark Lord. However, I am not my father, nor will I ever be.” He looked around the room, eyes landing on Severus Snape, who he had always been good friends with. He knew Severus had allied with the light, not the dark as he pretended. It had been him that had suggested Sullivan go to Dumbles for protection. “Sev!” Sullivan called, causing the man to look up.
“Sullivan,” Severus inclined his head towards him, causing the Order to whisper, “Good to see you.” he had a rare smile on his lips, making Sullivan smile too.
“How can I make them believe me?” Sullivan asked, semi-desperately. Severus tilted his head in thought.
“Perhaps,” he drawled, “A patronus will suffice?” he asked the room, eyes falling on Dumbledore, who was beaming.
“Quite right, Severus!” Dumbles twinkled. “The form can tell a lot about a person.”
Sullivan nodded, smiling at Severus. Drawing his wand, he raised it and cast. “Expecto patronum” he twirled his wand, and a shimmery mist appeared out of the wand, twisting and forming into a blackbird, that flew around the room and settled on Sullivan’s outstretched arm, before fading away.
Sullivan smiled as the blackbird disappeared. “A blackbird,” Dumbledore muses, “Curious.”
The paranoid man, (Moody! Sullivan remembered suddenly), scrutinised Sullivan carefully before turning to Dumbledore and dragging him into the corner of the room, where they had a whispered conversation, before returning to the table. “Are you sure about this, Albus?” Moody confirmed. Dumbledore nodded with glittering eyes. “Alright then.” He turned back to Sullivan, grunting. “Welcome to the Order of The Phoenix, kid.”