The Unclaimed Daughter of Sirius Black

Chapter 11

(╯°□° )╯

"Alright kids, one after the other just as we practiced. Count to three once the person in front of you has gone."

It had taken them nearly twenty minutes to sort out the order in which they would be travelling. Fred and George had argued endlessly over who should be allowed to go after Arthur, with Ron angrily insisting he should go before them both, seeing as he's Harry best friend. 

Finally Arthur had held up both his hands, declaring they would be travelling by order of birth, oldest to youngest. Which meant Siera would be after the twins, and Ron would be last. This was very upsetting to Ron, who pouted behind Siera while Arthur doled out the appropriate amount of powder to them each.

When it was George's turn he faced her, throwing a wide smile her way before the magical flames consumed him. Siera, to her surprise, found a blush rising to her cheeks in response. When had George's smile gotten so... so charming? 

"It's been more than three seconds, Siera, get on with it!"

Siera huffed, rolling her eyes at Ron. "Alright, alright. No need to get your knickers in a twist!" 

She rattled off the Dursley's address as clearly as she could, bracing herself as she felt her surroundings disappear. When she arrived she gasped as she found herself wedged into a too small space, cold brick pressing against her cheek. It was pitch black, where ever shew as.

She felt the cold trickle of fear, before she realized there were people around her. Someone's foot had ended up beneath hers, and a familiar voice let out a grunt of pain.

'Siera, was that you? There's no room, go back quickly and tell Ron-'

"Maybe Harry can hear us, Dad - maybe he'll be able to let us out-"

There was a loud hammering of fists on the boards behind the electric fire.

"Harry? Harry, can you hear us?"

They heard the voice of Harry's uncle.

"What is this?' He growled. 'What's going on?"

"They - they've tried to get here by Floo powder"' said Harry, who sounded as if he were fighting a mad desire to laugh. "They can travel by fire - only you've blocked the fireplace - hang on -"

His voice came closer, "Mr Weasley? Can you hear me?'

The hammering stopped. Somebody inside the chimney piece said, 'Shh!'

"Mr Weasley, it's Harry ... the fireplace has been blocked up. You won't be able to get through there."

"Damn!' said Mr Weasley's voice. 'What on earth did they want to block up the fireplace for?"

"They've got an electric fire,' Harry explained"

"Really?' said Mr. Weasley's voice excitedly. "Ecklectic, you say? With a plug? Gracious, I must see that.... Let's think ... ouch, Ron!"

Ron's voice now joined the others'. "What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?"

"Oh no, Ron," came Fred's voice, very sarcastically. "No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up."

"Yeah, we're having the time of our lives here," said George, whose voice sounded muffled, as though he was squashed against the wall.

"Boys, boys ... " said Mr. Weasley vaguely. "I'm trying to think what to do ... Yes ... only way ... Stand back, Harry."

'Wait a moment!' Harry's uncle bellowed, 'What exactly are you going to -'

BANG.

The electric fire shot across the room as the boarded-up fireplace burst outward, expelling Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Siera and Ron in a cloud of rubble and loose chippings. Aunt Petunia shrieked and fell backward over the coffee table; Uncle Vernon caught her before she hit the floor, and gaped, speechless, at the Weasleys, and Siera.

Siera coughed, brushing the ash off of her shoulders as she glanced around. The room was almost an exact replica of what one might find in a muggle magazine, down to the frilly pillows on the sofa. Harry's aunt and uncle had gone three shades whiter than what could be considered healthy, and Harry was staring at them with growing amusement.