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The Order of The Phoenix
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"Come on you lot," Mrs. Weasley said, hurrying her husband, her children, Sadie and Hermione down the street of London Borough of Islington. The group of eight were making their way to the headquarter of the Order of The Phoenix.
"Are we nearly there yet?" Ron called as Sadie looked at him then at Mrs. Weasley as she stopped outside a row of houses. The muffled pounding of a stereo was coming from an upper window in the nearest house. A pungent smell of rotting rubbish came from the pile of bulging bin bags just inside the broken gate.
Sadie looked around at the houses as Hermione stood next to her. They were standing outside number eleven. She looked to the left and saw number ten, to the right, however, was number thirteen.
"But where's . . .?"
"Right you lot," Mr. Weasley said, "think about where we've said we're staying."
Sadie thought, and no sooner had she reached the part about number twelve, Grimmauld Place, a battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of its way. Sadie gaped at it. The stereo in number eleven thudded on. Apparently the Muggles inside hadn't felt anything.
"Come on," Mrs. Weasley said and Sadie and the others followed. 
Sadie walked up the worn stone steps, staring at the newly materialised door. Its black paint was shabby and scratched. The silver doorknocker was in the form of a twisted serpent. There was no keyhole or letterbox.
Mrs. Weasley pulled out her wand and tapped the door once. Sadie heard many loud, metallic clicks and what sounded like the clatter of a chain. The door creaked open.
"In you go," Mrs. Weasley said to them all, "but don't go far inside and don't touch anything."
Sadie stepped over the threshold into the almost total darkness of the hall. She could smell damp, dust, and a sweetish, rotting smell, the place had the feeling of a derelict building. She looked over her shoulder and saw the others walking in behind her. Once everyone was inside, Mr. Weasley closed the front door, so that the darkness in the hall became complete.
Sadie heard a soft hissing noise and then old-fashioned gas lamps sputtered into life all along the walls, casting a flickering insubstantial light over the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet of a long, gloomy hallway, where a cobwebby chandelier glimmered overhead and age-blackened portraits hung crooked on the walls. Sadie heard something scuttling behind the skirting board. Both the chandelier and the candelabra on a rickety table nearby were shaped like serpents. Just then, a man with long black hair came walking out of a door facing Harper.
"Glad to see you made it," he said. "Hello everyone." It was Sirius Black.
"Hi," the blonde said.
"Welcome to my mother's house," he said as they went through the door from the hall and led the way down a flight of narrow stone steps.
"Your mothers house?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah," Sirius said, "but I'm the last Black left, so it's mine now. I offered it to Dumbledore for Headquarters, about the only useful thing I've been able to do.'
Sadie noted how hard and bitter Sirius's voice sounded. The group followed Sirius to the bottom of the steps and through a door leading into the basement kitchen.
It was scarcely less gloomy than the hall above, a cavernous room with rough stone walls. Most of the light was coming from a large fire at the far end of the room. A haze of pipe smoke hung in the air like battle fumes, through which loomed the menacing shapes of heavy iron pots and pans hanging from the dark ceiling. All of their belongings had arrived.