Quite A Likeness
Sirius Black crossed the threshold of Number 12 Grimmauld Place with a feeling of apprehension. Years ago, he had vehemently promised that he would never return to this house. Dumbledore’s orders were what kept him walking alongside the others.
"We’ve disabled most of Orion Black’s security measures," Moody was saying, "And put up our own in turn."
Sirius numbly nodded.
"Watch it, Nymphad—" Kingsley started.
Too late. With a small gasp, the young woman toppled over the hideous umbrella stand. All at once, a shriek filled the foyer.
"NASTY LITTLE BRAT!"
Sirius froze in his tracks, petrified with fear. His eyes widened and he broke out into an icy sweat. No. No, it couldn’t be.
"WORTHLESS LITTLE BRUTE! HOW DARE YOU RETURN? BLOOD-TRAITOR! SCUM OF THE EARTH!"
Remus had put a hand on his shoulder, looking quite alarmed.
Sirius blinked and anxiously glanced around. Moody and Kingsley were attempting to pull the drapes over a large portrait. Sirius’ trembling mouth twisted into a snarl as he stared into the eyes of his furious mother. The drapes were finally pulled and her voice quieted.
"Sorry about that," Moody briskly said, "Someone put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back. ‘Can’t get rid of it."
"Though believe me," Kingsley added, "We’ve tried."
"Alright, mate?" Remus quietly asked.
It was a moment before Sirius could speak. When he did, he finally whispered, “It’s quite a likeness.”