The Summer of the Phoenix

Chapter 7

"Ah, the Aurors," said Professor McGonagall, glad to change the subject. "They are a tricky lot. The trouble is, there are literally none of them left now from back then. They are all either dead or - or have left active service. And Alastor - well, he won't like me for saying it, but Alastor is not exactly friends with all of the current Aurors. He trained only two of them himself, Dawlish and Shacklebolt. All the others joined after he retired. I think they all respect him for who he once was - he is a living legend, after all - but there are quite a few that think he's become a bit of a joke, really. We're lucky most of them don't even know that he's been kept locked in his own trunk for months by a presumably dead undercover Death Eater. That's not funny," she said, giving Sirius and Lupin a very disapproving look.

"Nobody laughed," Lupin replied innocently, suppressing a grin.

"Mad-Eye Moody is a great old chap, but he is a little paranoid," said Sirius.

"You have a point there," Dumbledore conceded. "But all the same, I would urge you - all of us - to be rather a little too paranoid than too careless, in times like these."

"If you asked Alastor," McGonagall continued, "he'd probably tell you that none of the Aurors were trustworthy at all."

"As a matter of fact, I did ask him, Minerva," Dumbledore said with a little smile. "And unsurprisingly, that was precisely his answer. But I'm not inclined to give up on them so easily. We will see what Arthur Weasley can do, being so conveniently positioned in the same Ministry Department as them. Well, this is all very satisfying for a start," he said, leaning back comfortably in his chair and looking around the table as if he was expecting them all to agree whole-heartedly. He smiled at the rather sceptical looks on their faces. "It seems best to me that we should soon have everyone gathered in this place for a first meeting, and see where we can go from there. I suggest next Saturday night, that should give everyone sufficient time to think it over, and prepare."

"Can we make it Friday?" Lupin asked. "Next Saturday's the full moon, and I'd like to be there."

"Friday it is then," Dumbledore agreed. "And until then, can I rely on the two of you to take care of the front door, find out how it was sealed, and replace the charm with something more practical but equally secure? There is no need to wake up old Mrs Black every time there is a visitor. I'll explain later," he said, noticing the unspoken question in Professor McGonagall's face. "Other than that, this place might occasionally have to house more than one person, so it would be a great help if you could make some of the bedrooms habitable."

Lupin glanced at Sirius, who had stirred uneasily at the words 'more than one person'. "I'm staying anyway," he said quickly. "I might as well give up my own place and move in here completely, if Sirius agrees."

"Of course I do," said Sirius immediately, with audible relief in his voice.

"By all means stay here with Sirius for the time being, Remus," Dumbledore said. "But I would advise you not to give up your own place, not - " he raised a hand to ward off Lupin's protest - "not because the welfare housing the Ministry provides is such a desirable place to live, Remus. But we must take precautions. Keep your own place, only formally if you like, but keep it. You'd have to register a new place of residence with the Ministry otherwise, and questions would be asked. We must not arouse suspicion. We should all appear to be sticking to our quiet and respectable lives as much as possible."

"And what about those of us that don't have a quiet and respectable life to stick to?" Sirius muttered under his breath.

"There will be a time, Sirius," Dumbledore said. "Try to be patient. And now," he added, rising from his chair, "seeing as we are all fed and watered, it is time for Minerva and me to take our leave. But we have one more thing to do tonight, before we go. I must ask you all to come outside with me for a moment."

They followed Dumbledore out of the kitchen and up to the hall, Lupin and Sirius exchanging a curious look. At the front door, Dumbledore hesitated.

"Oh yes," said Sirius, and a moment later, a big black dog had taken his place at Lupin's side.

Dumbledore opened the front door, and they filed out behind him, down the worn steps and onto the pavement outside the wrought-iron gate. The pale orange street lights flickered and went out one after another as Dumbledore pointed his put-outer at each of them in turn. Then he turned back towards the house, pocketed the put-outer and drew out his wand. Three pairs of eyes, two human and one gleaming yellow in the dark, watched from behind his back.

Dumbledore's lips moved silently. A great sense of power suddenly seemed to radiate from his person. He seemed to grow several inches taller, and a light breeze ruffled his long white hair and beard and the sleeves of his purple robes, although there was no wind in the withered trees. None of the onlookers dared to breathe. When the incantation was finished, Dumbledore raised his left hand and said very quietly: "Fidelius."

Something very strange happened then. The house seemed to shrink before their eyes, getting smaller and smaller, while at the same time, the Muggle houses of numbers eleven and thirteen moved in from both sides, pushing number twelve down and out of sight until it was completely gone, making number eleven and number thirteen wall-to-wall neighbours, seamlessly connected, leaving no trace that another house had ever existed between them.

Dumbledore lowered his wand and turned to his three companions. "Listen," he said, and they grouped around him to hear, putting their heads together to shield his words from any other ears that might be listening.

"The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said in a low but very solemn voice, "may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."

* * *

In the blink of an eye, Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall had Disapparated, and Lupin and Sirius were alone on the square. They turned back towards where the house had been, and instantly, it seemed to grow back out of the ground, pushing numbers eleven and thirteen out of the way to the left and right.

"Neat," said Lupin, and together they walked up the steps and re-entered number twelve as if nothing had happened. "Dumbledore never ceases to amaze me," he remarked when they were back inside, closing the door on the night.

"He wouldn't be Dumbledore if he ever did," Sirius said dryly, back to his human self again.

"The Fidelius Charm looks hellishly complicated." Lupin shook his head, still in awe of what he'd just seen. "Why did he want us to come outside with him, though? Surely not just to witness the greatness of his power?"

"As if that needed any more witnessing. No, I think it's because this is a Fidelius on a building. Imagine what it would have felt like to be in the house while it was shrinking. You'd suddenly find yourself unable to tell where you were. Terribly confusing. It could mess up your mind. Or, given a strong mind, it could mess up the spell."

Lupin suddenly grabbed Sirius's arm. "Kreacher!" he said in an urgent voice.

"What about him?"

"He was inside all the time!"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't care about his mind."

"No, but what if the spell didn't work?"

"You saw the house shrink and grow back, didn't you?" Sirius reminded him. "It worked brilliantly. And besides, I'm not sure the Fidelius has an effect on other creatures than humans."

But Lupin was only more unnerved by this new information. "But then he could tell on us!" he exclaimed.

"Maybe he could. If he could leave the house, that is."

Lupin relaxed a little, and then frowned again. "Which means - "

" - he's staying," Sirius concluded, and swore.

"Dumbledore must have been aware of that," Lupin said quietly.

"I bet you anything that he was," Sirius grumbled. "Fine for him. It's not him that has to live under the same roof as that foul, insolent, ungrateful creature." And he stomped off towards the staircase.

"Where are you going?" Lupin called after him.

"As far away from that stinking thing as possible, without leaving the house. I'm going to sleep in the study. Good night."

"And I suppose I have your permission to bugger off home?" Lupin asked, folding his arms and leaning against the inside of the front door.

"Do what you want," Sirius grunted, and continued up the stairs without looking back.

"I will," said Lupin in a firm voice. "I'm not sure I want to live under the same roof with two insolent, ungrateful creatures."

Sirius turned around sharply, his dark eyes flashing angrily. "Then why are you still here?" he sneered.

"Because only half an hour ago, it seemed to matter a terrible lot to you that I'd be," Lupin shot back.

"Listen," Sirius said in a dangerously low voice, taking a few steps back towards Lupin, "in case you haven't noticed, Remus, I'm not a child. I can look after myself!"

"But it doesn't look like you're making a good job of it."

"Maybe you didn't look properly?" Sirius's voice was growing steadily louder.

"I think - "

"I don't care what you think!" Sirius was shouting now.

"Sirius," Lupin said in a voice of forced calm, "my hearing is excellent. It's actually particularly keen at the moment, with the full moon approaching. So don't - shout - at - me."

"I'm not shouting!" Sirius bellowed.

"Of course you are!" Lupin yelled back, his own anger finally getting the better of him. "If you could just hear yourself, you'd - "

But the rest of his words were, inevitably, lost in the renewed ear-splitting shrieks from the portrait of Mrs Black. "DISGRACE OF THE FAMILY! TRAITOR TO YOUR OWN BLOOD! SCUM OF WIZARDKIND!" echoed up and down the hall, drowning all other noise.

Lupin flinched as if someone had slapped him across the face. He shot one last disgusted look at Sirius, and then without another word turned on his heel and slammed the front door shut behind him.

Sirius stood staring after his friend for a moment. Then, slowly, he sank down on the stairs and buried his face in his hands, no longer heeding, or even hearing, the continuing insults his mother was shouting into the empty hall. They seemed far away and very trivial compared to the howl of misery that he felt welling up inside himself. It grew louder and louder, and then it broke through the surface of his mind, hitting him with full force, ringing in his ears, shaking him violently from head to foot, its hollow echoes seeming to mock the emptiness within him.

Sirius cried like a child.