Tonks frowned, setting the legs of the chair back on the floor. "Poor thing. What
do you think will happen when Hermione becomes, well, Mia? Molly's not going to react
well to that revelation if she thinks of the girl like a daughter, not to mention whatever she
wants to happen with Hermione and Ron."
"I couldn't give a hippogriff's arse what Molly thinks about it," Sirius snarled.
"Though I'm honestly looking forward to the day I get to introduce Molly Weasley to Mia
Potter."
"Why's that?"
"Because I have a feeling Molly will have some right nasty things to say to me,"
Sirius replied, a dark grin crossing his face, "and Mia has a delightful habit of hexing
the shit out of witches that call my respectable character into question."
December 18th, 1995When the portrait of Phineas Nigellus alerted Sirius that Arthur Weasley had been
attacked, and Grimmauld Place needed to allow a Portkey through to bring the Weasley
children and Harry, he was quick on his feet to prepare himself to deal with a lot of
emotional teenagers. Thankfully, when the group arrived, Sirius was still just frightening
enough to keep them all in place, considering the boys—save for Harry—were ready to
rush off to St Mungo's half-cocked, Order of the Phoenix be damned.
A few butterbeers later, they had mostly calmed down.
The Weasleys gathered together to comfort one another, inadvertently leaving
Harry out in the cold. By the look of it, Harry seemed more than happy to not be included
in the group. Sirius took to his godson's side and draped an arm around him, occasionally
offering words of support and comfort, assuming he was in shock over the attack.
Hours later, when Molly Weasley made her way into the house looking worse for
wear, Sirius stood to greet her as she updated her children on their father's condition.
"He's going to be all right," she said, her voice weak with obvious exhaustion. "He's
sleeping. We can all go and see him later."