Getting Things in Order

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Severus Snape had not been informed of the first full Order meeting to be held after the events of That Day. No need to elaborate on what That Day was. In fact, he would very much like to not think of That Day ever again, thank you very much.

Severus Snape had not been invited – of course not – but Howell Jenkins certainly had, and it was as Howell Jenkins that he stepped through the door of the Burrow at five minutes past the start of the meeting.

He was late, but that was to be expected, for Howell Jenkins was alwayslate, just as Severus Snape was alwayson time. And he was Howell Jenkins at the moment.

The entire Order was present, except for Mundungus Fletcher who would be as late as always, even later than Howell. He suspected that copious application of wizard space had gone into expanding the living room enough to fit everyone.

The meeting had not started in earnest yet, as they were still arguing about the presence of the children in the room. He was careful not to give them more than a blank glance, for Howell did not know them.

Weasley, Weasley, Weasley, Weasley, Granger and Potter. Where was Heather?

"They're just children! What could they possibly contribute?" Doge protested again. He had been using the same excuse for the past fifteen minutes and Howell's patience was running thin.

"Elphias-" Minerva started, before getting cut off.

"These 'children'," Black sneered, "were the ones who ensured all the children in Hogwarts were kept safe during the attack! I think they've more than 'contributed'. Definitely more than you have, I should say. Where were you when we were fending off the DEs, huh?"

That finally shut Doge up, and Howell allowed himself a smirk at Black, who winked in reply. There were occasions, he allowed, that the mutt said something useful.

"Now that that has been settled," Minerva said, shooting a half-scolding, half-grateful glance at Black, "we should let Mr Potter and his friends explain their side of the story."

Before Potter could start talking, however, the stairs started creaking, signalling the arrival of someone else. Potter frowned worriedly in that direction, as did several others.

He should have expected, of course, the person that emerged from the stairwell. Heather walked slowly into the room, totally unperturbed by the numerous stares on her person.

"Great, first kids, now the cripple too," Doge muttered. He then promptly fell on the receiving end of at least ten scathing looks.

Severus did not care about that, however. Instead, he got caught on the word 'cripple'. He could not help turning to stare at Heather, taking in the bandages wrapped around both her forearms and the way she carefully did not move them as she walked.

"Heather," Potter said, pausing in his furious regard of Doge only to support her as she made her way towards the sofa. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I'm fine," she said, brows furrowing in irritation. Severus knew it was because she would normally have waved off the suggestion had her arms been uncompromised. "I slept the whole afternoon away, and I'm sick of being confined to bed."

"Ugh, alright, if you insist," Potter said, "but if you feel tired at any point..."

"Yes, yes, you mother hen," Heather said, rolling her eyes, "Now, weren't you going to explain what happened?"

Yes, please explain why Heather had been thus injured when Severus had taken his eyes off of her for just a few days!

Howell. He dug his nails into his palm. He was Howell Jenkins at the moment.

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