Disclaimer : Of course I don't own Harry Potter (JK you're the best!) but the OC and the plot are all mine.

I hope you'll enjoy it, please leave a comment, I'll be happy to know your opinion as it is my first ever fanfic ! :)

Also, sorry if sometimes my spelling isn't perfect, English isn't my mother tongue but I love it very much!

The Boy in the middle

They were nearing a small, neat stone house set in its own garden. Harry was too busy digesting the horrible idea of Inferi to have much attention left for anything else, but as they reached the front gate, Dumbledore stopped dead and Harry walked into him.

"Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear."

Harry followed his gaze up the carefully tended front path and felt his heart sink. The front door was hanging off its hinges.

[...]

the owners of this place are on holiday in the Canary Islands — it's been very pleasant, I'll be sorry to leave. [...]

Désirée had been staring at the front door for a couple of minutes when she finally decided to open it. Something was off, but she couldn't figure it out. She was upset and tired, her train had been late and she had had to carry her heavy trunk until the small stone house because the taxi had forgotten about her. As soon as she set foot in the house, she heard the sound of a phone ringing. Of course, her mother HAD to call or worst : she might have already called and was now probably very upset at the thought that her naughty daughter had not answered yet. Désirée sighed, pushed her trunk in a corner and ran to the phone that was located next to the beautifully adorned book shelves.

"Désirée speaking."

"DESIREE LENOIR! I'm very disappointed in YOU ! I hope you have a very good reason for not calling whereas you should have arrived more than two hours ago already !"

"Mom, mom, please don't yell, I'm not deaf for God sake! My train was late and I had to walk from the station to the house.."

"Oh! Really? But you should have phoned from the station, you had me worried sick !"

"I'm sorry mom, I really am, but look I had just stepped in the house when you called and I just didn't think of phoning you earlier as I was trying to get here ASAP."

She heard her father's voice in the back, trying to reason her mother. She sighed once more, her mother had been worrying about her ever since day one when she supposedly almost died at the clinique and sometimes it was just overwhelming.

"Oh fine, fine, I won't meddle since it's perfectly normal not to have a word of you for two hours long! Tell me, is everything alright ? Mr and Mrs Harrison assured me that the house was clean when they left for the Canaries."

"Yes mom, everything is just fine..."

At that very moment, her eyes were attracted to a small parcel of paper who seemed to have fallen from the dresser. She bent and grabbed it between her fingers while trying to keep the phone to her ear. It seemed to be an old photography as it was in black and white. She could hear her mother going on and on about all the things she had to take care of while staying at the Harrisons but she was too focused on the photography to answer or assent. At the front stood seven boys, each holding what she identified as a broomstick. They had odd clothing and behind them were some giant loops. But the most unsettling thing was that she was under the impression that the picture itself was moving.

"Mom, mom. You won't believe it, I just found an old photography at the Harrisons and there are those weird folks holding broomsticks and the funniest thing is that it looks like the picture is moving. Really, I think I might go to bed early."

"Brooms you said? Well, you shouln't keep it, put it down where you found it and forget about it, it's nonsense."

Her mother seemed tense but then, she was very often.

"I know right, it's really absurd. But hey, I wonder if Mr Harrison is on the picture.. And the boy in the middle is really cute, it's as if..."

She caressed the picture with her index finger, drawing the contour of the thin boy at the front's face whose dark eyes had immediately attracted her own. She felt like she knew him, that she had to know him. And then she felt a rush of sadness as if nothing could be bright after that. She gasped.

"Désirée! What happens?"

"I don't know. Mom...I feel so sad, so sad."

She realised she was sobbing; the photography seemed blurry but she could still guess the haughty look on the boy's face.

"Désirée! Answer me!"

"Mom, what's happening to me? I feel so bad..."

"Désirée, keep away from the chimney alright? Don't hang up!"

She had fallen on her knees, her head hurt horribly and she was still sobbing quietly. Then she heard a strange, ruffled noise coming from the fireplace, she just had time to turn around and see two pair of legs coming down from it before she fainted.

When she woke up, she found her mother scrutanizing her face most anxiously. She had been carried onto a cosy sofa where she was presently laying.

"What, what happened? I think I had hallucinations. And how can you be here?"

"Well, you didn't my love. Oh, if only it had not happened! Now, I have so many things to explain to you before it begins to make sense. My poor baby, why couldn't you have always stayed a little girl?"

"Mom please, I don't understand."

She then spotted her father who sat next to the fireplace. He looked rather anxious, which was a first, and also a bit tired. When he caught her eyes, he smiled at her and came to her side.

"Well, I guess you are now of age, my posy daisy."

The use of her little nickname made her smile; if her father was using it, it would be alright, wouldn't it ?

"You'll be glad to learn that you have some drops of English blood in your veins."

"Oh really Armand! How could you begin with that!"

Her mother now looked her usual upset yet tender self which was very comforting.

"Well she would have learned sooner or later and I figured it would make her happy since she's so infatuated with this *herm* unwelcoming country."

"I love England almost as much as my beloved France, thank you very much! But what do you mean, I have English blood ? Does it mean you have some too? Or is it mom?"

"Unfortunately, I guess it would be me."

"How?"

"Well your great grand-father, Marius Lenoir, who died long before your birth, was in fact né Marius Black."

"Oh I see! Did he decide to emigrate?"

"Not quite; rather, he was forced to."

"By whom?"

"By his own family."

"What ? Impossible! Why would they do that to him? Was he a bad person?"

"Oh no! Not as far as I know. I guess his biggest flaw, according to them, was to be normal."

"What do you mean, normal? How could that ever be a flaw?"

"That's exactly why I'm saying those English people are insane!"

"Really Armand, you shouldn't have said that in the first place!"

"Oh really? Then what should have I said um? That they threw him out and forgot all about his existence, because he wasn't some..some freak!?"

"Oh please, you know it doesn't work like that in all the wizarding families! It's just that the Black are particularly messed up!"

"STOP! Excuse me, but did I hear correctly? Did you really say the wizarding families, mom? And what with the Black, you're both so confusing, my headache is getting worst."

Her mother bore a very stiff expression while her father just looked upset after their little bickering.

"Yes, I said wizarding, Daisy."

"Now I think we should ALL go to bed early, in fact I'm still probably hallucinating for how could you possibly be here in such a short time ?"

"Floo powder."

Her mother had almost blurted out the word and she now looked very pale.

"The what ?"

"F-L-O-O powder. Wizards often use this to travel faster from a fireplace to another."

"Wait, are you trying to make me believe, that you really traveled from our mantelpiece to...this one ?"

"It's the truth darling."

Her mother looked even paler if it was possible and her dark eyes were shining with tears.

"That's mental, you're both mental.."

Her mother let out a small sob while her father sighed heavily. She looked from one to the other, casting each of them a slightly desperate glance. They couldn't be serious, could they? Magic, even if the word still sent waves of excitement through her body, didn't exist or did it ?