The Summer of the Phoenix

Chapter 14

Dumbledore still had some practical things to discuss with the Order, but Sirius hardly listened, even when Dumbledore talked about the need to watch over Harry at his aunt and uncle's house. He and Lupin were sitting side by side again, but very stiffly, and avoided meeting each others' eyes.

Sirius felt like kicking himself, painfully aware that even a good kicking was much less than he deserved. What a supreme idiot he had been, making sure that the first thing Tonks found out about Lupin, right after his name, was just that. What on earth had made him start talking about wolves? There had just been no call to mention that. Or had there? Sirius tried to be honest with himself and found it surprisingly hard. No, there hadn't been a single decent reason for it, he told himself firmly. On the contrary. On the very contrary. And sitting here now feeling guilty wasn't going to help, it wasn't going to make Tonks forget what she'd heard. How was he supposed to repair that damage?

"Tonight," Dumbledore was saying, "Arabella Figg has kindly offered to take this task upon herself. But that's more than we can ask of her, as she's already keeping an eye on Harry during the daytime. It would be a great help if you could all spare a night or two now and then to make sure the boy is safe. I know it is a rather tedious task, but I'm afraid it's necessary. I can't lock Harry up in his aunt and uncle's house. "

If you can do it with other people, why can't you do it with Harry, too? Sirius thought bitterly, glad for a moment to have someone else to direct his anger at.

"It is a great relief to know one of us will always be close at hand - just in case. Is anyone willing to volunteer for one of the coming nights?"

"I'll go tomorrow," Nymphadora Tonks offered immediately. "No problem. I've got the whole weekend off, and my mum has long given up asking where and how I spend my Saturday nights."

"Thank you, Nymphadora. Arabella Figg will show you the place, and provide you with all the necessary details and equipment. And with as much of her excellent home-made cake as you could possibly want." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind his half-moon glasses.

"I'll do Sunday night, then," Bill Weasley volunteered.

"Do be careful, Bill," his father warned him. "It wouldn't do to arouse suspicion at work when you get there overtired on Monday morning."

"I've given thought to that, Dad," Bill replied. "You're forgetting this Monday's a Bank Holiday."

"That's settled, then," Dumbledore said. "Thank you for your help, and thank you all for your patience tonight. We will meet here again at regular intervals, or whenever the need arises, while we're waiting for... news..." For the fraction of a second, his eyes travelled again to Severus Snape in his corner. "And in the meantime, do take care. Keep your eyes and ears open. Be prudent, and be vigilant. This meeting is concluded."

There was a little commotion as they all got to their feet and made to leave. Dumbledore insisted on them leaving the house only in small groups, in order not to attract too much attention, so Sirius had a lot of time to say goodbye to Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt in the hall while they were waiting for Moody to literally see all the others safely out of the house.

"We need to talk some time soon," the black Auror said to Sirius. "About where the investigation will be going now. There's got to be some sort of pattern as to where you'll be spotted and what we suspect you'll be up to. We need to devise a strategy."

"I really don't want you to get into trouble for that," Sirius said awkwardly. He had only just realised what an absurd situation this meeting had left Kingsley Shacklebolt in. He had to keep conducting his investigation, and do it convincingly, and at the same time make absolutely sure that it would not lead anywhere. It would take more than the average cunning to make a good job of that, and more than the average nerve to be ready to take the risk.

"It's really great you're doing this. I'm sorry about it," Sirius apologised.

But Kingsley Shacklebolt only laughed. "You needn't be," he said, and winked. "On the contrary - I have a feeling my job will be twice as much fun now as it was before."

"We must meet again, too!" Tonks said eagerly. "There's so much to talk about, I'm dying to hear what you've been up to all these years."

"I assure you most of these years don't make for an interesting story at all," said Sirius dryly, "but as for the rest, that's fine."

"Can I come over for dinner then, some time? You'll be here, won't you?"

"I'll always be here," Sirius said heavily.

"Shall we make it tomorrow, then?" Tonks asked, not noticing the change in his tone. "Before I go down to Surrey?"

Sirius hesitated. "Come on Sunday, Tonks," he said then. "So you can - you can tell me about Harry and everything."

"Sunday then," Tonks confirmed with a smile.

"All right, we'd better get going," Moody announced from the door. He and the two Aurors were now the last visitors left. And a moment later, they too were gone - back to their duties, back to resume their tireless hunt for a dangerous mass murderer called Sirius Black.

Sirius felt like singing.

* * *

Remus Lupin, down in the kitchen, didn't.

He had kept himself busy re-arranging the furniture so the kitchen could serve its usual purpose again, but when he had heard Sirius coming back downstairs, he had made sure his friend found the room deserted.

And so it was - deserted except for Kreacher, who was just sneaking back to his boiler cupboard. Sirius had sent him upstairs to the gloomy drawing room before the meeting had started, but he suspected the sly house-elf had at least spied on the arrival and the departure of the large group of wizards and witches, and put two and two together that they were up to something that his mistress would never have tolerated in her house. He was muttering under his breath, but Sirius didn't bother to listen. It wouldn't be anything new.

"Just one more gobletful of this," Lupin announced to no one in particular, coming out of the pantry carrying his small cauldron, and busied himself heating the potion on the stove, still carefully avoiding to look at Sirius.

For a minute or two, Sirius watched his friend stir the unpleasantly smelling potion in silence. "Remus -" he began.

Lupin paused, but didn't turn around. "Never mind," he said stiffly, and resumed his stirring.

"You do mind," said Sirius quietly.

"All right, I do," Lupin said indifferently to the wall in front of him. "So what?"

"So this." Sirius grabbed a chair, put it down in the middle of the kitchen with a bang, and sat down on it with crossed arms, blocking the way to the door, determined not to let this day of all days end with both of them feeling miserable on his account. "I know it's very late, and we're all under a bit of strain at the moment, but I want you to turn around and look at me and tell me I'm the world's biggest git. Now."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Lupin evenly, still stirring his potion with exaggerated care.

"I mean it. I'll hex you if you don't."

Lupin sighed, put his spoon down and turned around. "But you know," he said wearily, "that I'd have had to tell her anyway sooner or -"

In one smooth movement, Sirius had whipped out his wand and pointed it straight at his friend. "Say it."

For a second, Lupin's eyes grew wide with alarm. He instinctively made to reach for his own wand, but then his hand fell to his side, and he sighed resignedly. "If it makes you happy," he said, "you are - " He broke off and shook his head.

"Yes?"

"You know, Sirius," said Lupin, and his voice was suddenly back to normal, "you really are sometimes. Like right now."

A moment later, they both burst out laughing, laughing hysterically, laughing so hard they almost cried. Lupin sank onto a chair, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his robes, shaking his head helplessly. Sirius was clutching the back of his own chair to keep himself from falling off it, laughing like he hadn't laughed in over fourteen years. At last, the tension that he had felt mounting higher and higher inside him over the course of the whole week subsided, driven away by the power of laughter.

"Oh, Padfoot," Lupin said after a long time, when he could speak again, "this calls for a celebration. We've done it. I need a drink."

"Me too." Sirius heaved himself out of his chair. "If there's anything left."

"Oh right, you hopelessly squandered that whole bottle of Ogden's on the first night here," Lupin moaned in comic despair.

"But I seem to remember, hazily I admit, that I had quite some help with that," Sirius grinned. "And besides," he added half jokingly and half bitterly, "I think I'd never have made it through this week without it."

"Honestly, I'm impressed how you made it through the meeting tonight."

"Oh, so am I," Sirius said cheerfully. "I assure you it almost killed me. Wizarding laws of inheritance, I ask you. When Shacklebolt came bearing down on me like that, I almost hoped he'd simply curse me and be done, just to get it over."

"I just really hope Dumbledore knew what he was doing there", said Lupin quietly.

"Oh, he did," Sirius shrugged. "It worked. That's all I care about. Now get this terrible stuff out of the way, and I'll find us something proper to drink. Is that potion supposed to smell burnt?"

"The Wolfsbane!" Lupin jumped to his feet. The potion in the cauldron was giving off a distinct burned smell now.

"Does that make it useless?" Sirius asked concernedly.

"No," Lupin replied and pulled a face, "only even more disgusting." He filled a mug, held his nose, and drank the potion down as fast as he could in three big gulps.

Sirius went to get some butterbeer, while Lupin scraped the last dose of Wolfsbane from the bottom of the cauldron, and put it away safely in a little pot. "There," he said, dropping the cauldron in the sink, "something to clean for Kreacher tomorrow."

"He'll be delighted," said Sirius, looking at the mess. "Why don't they just invent instant Wolfsbane or something?"

"Snape says they're at it. Oh, come on." Lupin rolled his eyes as a shadow passed over Sirius's face at the mentioning of the name. "Would you prefer me to refer to him as 'You Know Who', or 'He Who Must Not Be Named'?"

Sirius grinned in spite of himself. "Did you hear what he said to me?"

"I heard that about the house," Lupin admitted. "You didn't really let that get to you, did you?"

Sirius didn't answer, but the grin was gone from his face.

"Then let me tell you something," Lupin said, and sat down at the table. "It's very simple, Sirius. He envies you, that's all."

"Envies me? For this place?" Sirius gave a snort.

"Yes," Lupin said quietly. "See, you had the home he always wanted. I know that's hard to understand, but you've seen my own place - and still, I might live Ministry-owned wizarding welfare housing now, but even I didn't have to grow up in it."

Sirius stared at him. "How - how do you know that?"

"Remember my next door neighbour, the old Squib? The one whose cats were so frightened of you?"

Sirius nodded.

"He's been living there for decades. And he could tell you stories about the Snapes that would make your hair stand on end."

Sirius made to say something, but decided against it. He looked thoughtfully into the crackling fire for a while, and then suddenly reached for his butterbeer. "Snape's problem, not mine," he said. "Cheers."