Right off into the deep end [Sarah; Reagan]

Harry stretched as he finished putting up his cleaning supplies. He’d spent the better part of the week getting 12 Grimmauld Place fit for visitors. Or, he supposed he should start calling them roommates, since they’d be here for a while, at least until they could get out on their own. While it was true that Harry could have had the place spic-and-span in a few minutes’ time with magic, something about him preferred to do certain things by hand. There was just something about the atmosphere of a home that was cleaned manually that magic couldn’t match. He’d dusted every last bit of furniture, repaired the cracks in the wall and repainted a few of the bedrooms as well as spruced the garden up a bit. Now dressed in a simple white t-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes, Harry wiped the sweat from his brow and pushed his glasses back up on his nose.

When word had gotten around the Order that two prospective members needed a place to stay now that they were graduated, Harry was only too eager to offer his home for them. After all, it was the least he could do, and his home was still the headquarters for the Order. It was only natural that two younger members stay there until they got on their feet, and Harry could use the company besides. He and Ron had been working so much lately they didn’t see each other nearly as much as he’d like. Maybe I should invite Hermione to stay here too, he thought with a smile as he poured himself a glass of wine while he waited. She’s graduated now and I’m sure she’d like it here. His reminiscing was cut short by a sharp knock at the door.  Taking another quick sip of his wine, Harry rose from his favorite chair in front of the fireplace to greet his new roommates.

“Just a moment!” he called out as he reached the door. Swinging it open his smile quickly turned to a look of confusion. Harry wasn’t quite sure just what he’d expected, but Sarah Hirst and Reagan Baisley were certainly not it. Ginny’s going to murder me, he thought immediately. Still, he recovered quickly and offered each girl a handshake. “Haven’t seen you two in a long time, how’ve you been? Please, come in!” He stood aside, waving them inside. This is going to be very interesting, he thought, and he wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or not.

This was so completely and totally beyond rad. Reagan was more than a little ecstatic for the events about to take place, or rather, event. She and her best friend Sarah would be staying at Harry Potter’s house, as in, Number 12 Grimmauld Place, until they could both solidify jobs and a decent flat not crawling with weirdos. She suspected that Harry was more than hospitable to Order members, but Reagan had no idea whether Harry knew of the … nature of his guests or not. They’d known each other in school, sure, but it hadn’t been like either of them would have just asked for permission to stay at his house.

All that set aside, it was happening and they’d just have to play it cool. Like everything was normal, even though it wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination. On repeat in her head, the mantra played, we’re crashing with Harry Freaking Potter. Even bigger deal, they were finally, in the greatest sense of the word, light. They meant something. They were part of an elite organization of badass good guys, essentially, and it had been a lot smoother getting in than Reagan had anticipated. Once she’d brought it up to Sarah, she hadn’t assumed that her best friend would let her do it alone, and so they’d gone and met with Jane to discuss it together.

At this point, lugging her heavy, bulky trunk up the steps to Number 12 Grimmauld Place, a wave of nostalgia for childhood left behind and an aftershock of what was to come in their lives hit the tiny former Gryffindor like a ton of bricks and she was flying just from staring at the door. “Holy shit, Sare.” She breathed, the good kind of anxiety lacing her words. She was glad that she’d brought that bottle of firewhiskey, because there was no doubt that the two of them would be needing it, if not Harry as well. Heaving her trunk up onto the final landing, Ray looked to her right and saw Sarah standing there, ever constant, a good eight inches taller than she. It was surreal.

Her wrist jutted out abruptly to knock at the door, effectively communicating her feelings, and she stood there for a moment. Bristling slightly, another wave of emotion passed through her veins. Panic, it felt like. What if he just refused to let them in? She might, if she were in his position. Breathing heavy and deep, Reagan realized her irrationality when she heard his semi-familiar voice call out from inside the building. Looking frantically at Sarah one more time, Reagan tried to look cool and composed when the door was opened, sort of striking an awkward pose and smiling shakily in an attempt to project an air of .. well, she didn’t know. It wasn’t as though you ever really got used to seeing the most famous wizard in the world, let alone hearing him invite you into his house, and he’d clearly had no idea that it would be them, judging from the look on his face.

Shaking Harry’s hand perhaps a little firmly to really be friendly, Reagan followed Harry’s gesturing hand into the house. Hmm, he’d certainly cleaned the place up. “Um, yeah!” She said, usual brightness intact. “Long time’s right. We’ve been well, you know, graduating sort of has us in a … shall we say, we’re just …” Struggling for words while she was usually good with delivery was embarrassing, but Reagan finally found the right phrasing. “We’re sort of just floundering about for the moment. We really appreciate your hospitality, Harry. If there’s anything we can do to repay you, let us know and it’s done.”

  This. Was. So. Fucking. Cool.

  The big wide world of adulthood had been pretty awesome in Sare's book so far. When Ray had first talked to her about joining the Order, Sare had of course known that there was no chance in hell her best friend was joining alone. Firstly, the Order was some dangerous stuff. Sare's place was wherever her best friend was right now, and protecting her was always going to be a priority. Secondly, the Order just called to Sarah. She'd been a member of Dumbledore's Army when she was younger, and knew that many of it's ex-members (or did membership ever really end? She still carried her coin...) had gone on to join the Order and that felt like a natural transition that suited Sarah just fine. She wasn't really sure what she wanted to do with her future, but it definitely involved badassery and helping take down evil bastards like the one that killed her kid sister.

  Kay would have been proud of her right now, of that Sare was sure.

  Anyway, money was sort of tight right now. Sare couldn't afford a flat with Ray until she was on a steady wage, so that needed to happen fast. She knew that they wanted to live in London, so staying in Manchester with her father wasn't practical if she was job hunting. It was then that the most utterly brilliant thing had happened. Harry Potter had offered to let them crash at his until they were on their feet. Harry. Potter. Of course, Sare had spoken to him before. They had only been a year apart, and he'd been heading the DA when it first started out. She and Kay had been living in the Room of Requirement when he made his final appearance for the battle too, so that had been cool. But still, he was pretty badass. And she was getting to crash at his place. Which was in fact the Order HQ. It made everything seem even more real, and Sarah was genuinely excited for this.

  The weight of Sare's luggage barely registered as she took the steps up to the door two at a time. She was far too psyched for this. Reagan echoed her sentiments aloud. "I know, Ray. I know." She murmured in response, raising her free hand to her mouth to gnaw at the barely-there nails. It was a gross habit, but she wasn't too bothered about stopping it. Hey, she was an of age witch. If she bit too far down and bled she could heal it in a second. And she wasn't exactly the french manicure type of chick. She snorted aloud at the idea of herself with a french manicure. Yeah, adulthood was never going to change her that much. Merlin, imagine. Tramping around in bejeweled heels with plasticky tacky-ass nails and a nasal voice, ordering cosmopolitan cocktails at bars and laughing through her nose.

  Yeah, no.

  She was jolted out of her rather bizarre daydream by the sharp sound of Ray's knock on the door. They waited only a moment before the door swung open, and a rather stunned looking Harry was on the other side. He asked how they were though, so bonus points for that smooth recovery she supposed. As per usual, she let Ray do the polite smooth talking. Reagan was the hustle, and Sare was the muscle. Her tact left something to be desired, for sure. She stepped in after her best friend, and waited for her to finish talking. Once she was sure that Ray was done, she turned to Harry and grinned widely. "Yoooooo Potter!" she said, clapping him on the back. "Long time no see! Life's pretty good, man. How you been?"

  That said, she glanced around the hall she was in. There was some ugly-ass looking troll foot thing in the corner, which she grinned at. Hey, maybe he was into all that funky abnormal interior decor. Maybe that was the foot of a troll he'd taken out himself? Awesome.