NOIR - [Fred Weasley]

01. No post on Sundays

✻ When Harry Became A Mailman

It had already been a busy night for the young wizard when he finally apparated in front the Burrow. Along with his headmaster, they have had succeeded at completing more than a couple of tasks, in just a few hours.

Dumbledore's appearance over at the Dursley residence was more than enough to signal the beginning of an interesting night. A small chuckle would escape the young wizard anytime he thought of his aunt and uncle's reaction to the headmaster knocking their doorbell. Vernon and Dudley's terror at the sight of the bearded headmaster had caused heat to immediately rise to their cheeks, turning them into what Harry could only describe as overgrown tomatoes.

After the initial shock however, Harry had quickly focused on the matters at hand. His godfather's will was read, announcing that he had left all of his belongings to him; including the house over at Grimmauld Place, along with a very grumpy Kreacher. Thankfully, the young wizard was able to send him off to Hogwarts, where he would work for the foreseeable future. To top things off, along with his headmaster, they quickly set off to visit a rather important figure - according to Dumbledore at least.

Horace Slughorn was a rather interesting character. That appeared to be most polite thing Harry could say about his now soon-to-be professor at least. Slughorn surely was ambitious - a classical Slytherin trait - and extremely smart to be able to avoid Deatheaters for so long. Harry however couldn't help but dislike they way he talked about his students as if they were prizes. The young wizard himself had been treated more like an object than a human being at multiple times, and the way Slughorn talked about his students didn't sit well with the him.

Harry's mood however couldn't be crumbled by the events of the night. He had long decided he wouldn't spend any more time wallowing in grief. He'd live as much as he could, and he'd fight as long as his body would let him. He was determined to destroy Voldemort's plans. Or at least do his very best before the Dark Lord caught up to him. He was going to live. He owed it to Sirius.

So there the two wizards were, at a broomstick closet outside the Burrow. Dumbledore has requested a few more moments alone with Harry, where the young boy was informed he'd be meeting with his headmaster throughout the year for a couple of 'private lessons', adding one more thing to Harry's list of mental notes. It was the familiar scent of the Burrow however that kept any kind of nerves at bay. To him, the small house was freedom, it was warm, it was home.

''There is one last thing I'm afraid I have to burden you with Harry.'' said Dumbledore, his tone turning more serious than before.

''What is it?''

''I know these are dangerous times we live in, but know that I would never put your life in danger deliberately.''

''I know Sir.'' Harry stated quickly, eager to prove himself to his headmaster.

Dumbledore softly smile to the young boy before continuing. ''Sirius' will included one more thing that I am not at liberty to discuss with you. It was more of a... personal matter of his. In his will, he had stated that he wanted this envelope delivered to its recipient by this Sunday. I was wondering if you would be able to help an old man with a small task. It shouldn't be too hard.''

''Of course Sir.'' Harry immediately answered. If Sirius needed his help, he was more than glad to do this one last thing for him. ''But, may I ask, why can't you deliver it yourself?''

''Oh, I am not that welcome at that part of London.'' Dumbledore muttered, causing a small frown to take over Harry's face. How could Dumbledore not be welcomed in downtown London? ''The recipient isn't entirely fond of me, i have to admit.''

''Who's the recipient?''

''A young girl. Only a year older than you.'' his headmaster explained simply as he took out his wand and with a small wave, a rather large envelope appeared in front of them. On the top left corner, Sirius' full name was written in his signature handwriting. Harry always found it rather ironic that no matter how much his godfather hated his family name and all that came with being a Black, his handwriting and mannerisms always showed he was indeed raised as a part of the sacred twenty-eight. A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he thought of young Sirius learning calligraphy. But what intrigued Harry the most, was the fact that on the bottom right corner - were the recipient's name should be - there was just a set of initials.

''It only says; E.C.B. There's not a full name. How will I find her?'' Harry wondered.

''Oh, I'm pretty sure Molly's twins could help with that. They happen to have quite a few friends over at that neck of the woods.'' Dumbledore replied, a knowing smirk forming on his lips.

''But... Mrs. Weasley...?''

''I'll talk to Molly.'' Dumbledore assured him with a small smile. ''I'll even suggest sending Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger along with you and the twins as well. There's safety in numbers; though I'm pretty sure you will be fine.''

''Okay then. I'll be there Sunday.'' Harry nodded, a confident glint on his eyes.

''Perfect. Thank you Harry. You have been of excellent assistance tonight. One last thing. While you stay here, the Burrow has been given the highest security the Ministry of Magic can provide. These measures have caused a certain amount of inconvenience to Arthur and Molly — all their post, for instance, is being searched at the Ministry before being sent on. They do not mind in the slightest, for their only concern is your safety. However, it would be poor repayment if you risked your neck while staying with them.''

''I understand.'' said Harry quickly.

''Very well, then,'' said Dumbledore, pushing open the broom shed door and stepping out into the yard. "I see a light in the kitchen. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore how thin you are."

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