The Summer of the Phoenix

Chapter 21

But as Sirius was to find out when he woke up, 'soon' had not meant 'tomorrow morning'. The house was as empty and quiet as on the day before. No Lupin, no letter, nothing but Kreacher rummaging around in the pantry looking for food, and a solitary ray of sunshine that fell through one of the high kitchen windows and illuminated the empty fireplace as if to make sure that Sirius didn't miss the fact that there was no news, and no comfort to be had. It didn't surprise him any longer. He had almost expected it.

Sirius gave up on the day before it had even properly started. He spent most of it curled up on his sofa in the study in the form of the black dog, finding ease in the absence of complex thoughts, and drifting in and out of sleep. It was a dreamless sleep that reflected the uneventful waking moments of the day, but he didn't mind. He didn't care about very much any longer.

Late in the afternoon, his sensitive dog's ears picked up the sound of the wrought-iron gate outside the front door creaking on its hinges. He opened his eyes and raised his head. He could hear light footsteps ascending the worn stone steps. Sirius transformed back into his human self, but he didn't bother to get up and check from the window if it really was Lupin. Lupin hadn't been in a hurry to get back, so Sirius wouldn't be in a hurry to greet him and hear his news, either.

The front door opened and closed again, and he heard the same light footsteps cross the hall. They descended to the kitchen, but a minute or two later, they were back, and began to climb the stairs. Sirius could hear them draw closer, first landing, second landing, and then they stopped right outside his door. There was a very soft knock. At least he's got a guilty conscience, Sirius thought.

He opened his mouth for a very reproachful "Where have you been?", but the door didn't open.

"Sirius?" a voice asked hesitantly, almost timidly, and it was definitely not Lupin's.

Sirius sat up with a start. "Come in," he called, cleared his throat, and called again, this time audibly.

The door opened, and it was Tonks who looked into the room. "I'm sorry I'm disturbing you," she said, and attempted a little smile.

"You're not," he replied, swung his legs down from the sofa and sat up properly. He wanted to add something sarcastic, something that would make her realise that he'd been waiting desperately for this kind of disturbance for three days, but the words got stuck in his throat.

Tonks didn't look exactly well. Her hair was black and curly today, which accounted for her in contrast unnaturally pale face, but not for the dark hollows under her eyes. She came into the room and closed the door.

"Well?" Sirius finally asked rather lamely. "What's going on?"

"A lot," said Tonks. "That's why I'm here. Remus Lupin asked me to, because - "

The name of his friend brought back all the frustration of the last few days.

" - because he's too busy to even send an owl to say that he's still alive?" Sirius asked aggressively.

"No," said Tonks wearily, and gave him a very unhappy look.

Sirius's heart missed a beat. "What's wrong with him?" he asked quickly.

"Nothing, he was just too tired. To tell the truth, he was near a complete collapse, so Moody finally sent him home to sleep."

"Tonks," Sirius said impatiently, "sit down and tell me what's going on, for heaven's sake!"

Tonks hesitated for a moment, then came over to lean against the heavy writing desk, facing Sirius on his sofa. "I don't know where to start," she said with a sigh. "It's weird. Unreal."

"What is weird?"

"We're standing guard at the Ministry."

"You're what?"

"We're standing guard at the Ministry."

"Who, the Aurors?"

"No, the Order."

"The Ministry asked the Order to guard the place?" Sirius's thoughts were racing. How did this fit in with Dumbledore's "extreme caution and extreme secrecy"? It couldn't be that bad yet, that the Ministry had to turn to the Order for help against Voldemort?

"No, they don't know about it," Tonks was saying.

"What do you mean, you're secretly guarding the Ministry?" This was getting crazier by the minute. Since when had the Ministry not been able to ensure the security of its own buildings? And if they weren't, why weren't they supposed to know that someone else was doing the job for them?

"Just the Department of Mysteries."

"Why?"

"I don't really know," said Tonks wearily.

Sirius sighed in frustration. Were they all turning into Arthur Weasleys, spreading their hands and professing complete ignorance? "Listen," he said, "can you just begin at the beginning or something, so I can get my head around why a Ministry Auror has to guard a Ministry Department without the Ministry knowing about it?" He had sounded angrier than he had meant to. Tonks winced, and he was immediately sorry.

"I'm trying to," she said tiredly. "It's all totally crazy. I can't quite believe it myself." She sighed again. It suddenly struck Sirius just how exhausted she was. She looked as if she wasn't very far from a complete collapse herself.

"Come here," he said, and moved to make room for her on the sofa. Tonks came to sit next to him, drawing up her feet and propping herself up on her elbow.

"Monday morning," she began at the beginning, "I went to Moody's place before work just like he'd said to. Kingsley and Arthur came, too. Moody explained that - that You Know Who and his followers were interested in the Department of Mysteries, and that we had to keep them from getting in there."

"How did he know?"

"Dumbledore told him."

"Yes, but how did Dumbledore know?"

"I have no idea. Moody knew no more than Arthur on Sunday night, only that Dumbledore had heard it from both sides, whatever that meant."

"And what exactly are they after?"

"I don't know, honestly. Neither did Moody."

"How are you supposed to guard something if you don't know what it is?"

"That's why we're guarding the whole Department."

"Just you Ministry people?"

"No, Moody, too, and Lupin, and sometimes Professor McGonagall. We're doing it two together, in shifts of six hours."

"What, day and night?" At least this accounted for the dark hollows under her eyes, and Lupin's near collapse. Right after the full moon, four days in a row without proper sleep was nothing short of inhuman.

"So you're patrolling the Department of Mysteries?"

"No," Tonks explained patiently, "the Department itself is sealed to all except those who work there, and the Minister himself. It's a little strange - nobody really knows what the people in there are up to. They're not allowed to talk about it, or at least they never do. That's why we call them Unspeakables. Strange blokes. Anyway nobody except them knows what the Department looks like, what's in there, and how to get in. So we just sit by the entrance and watch out for anything odd."

"What, with the whole Ministry buzzing around?" Tonks was right, this was unreal. Dumbledore's mistrust of the Ministry must run deeper than Sirius had ever imagined, if he found it necessary to station his own guards right inside it, even in broad daylight.

"We're under Moody's Invisibility Cloak, of course," Tonks was saying. "And the Department is on the lowest level, there's not much traffic down there. We just sit by the wall and try not to make any noise or fall asleep." She made it sound quite simple, but her strained, pale face betrayed her.

"But nothing has happened so far?"

"Nothing at all."

"And Dumbledore still wants two of you to sit there day and night?"

"He thinks there's an imminent danger that someone might try and break into the Department, and we've got to be there to stop them."

Sirius got to his feet and started pacing up and down restlessly. "And what if Voldemort -" Tonks winced at the name "- comes swooping down on you with a dozen Death Eaters at his back in the middle of the night?" Sirius didn't mean to sound funny. The idea was sickening. What did Dumbledore think two members of the Order, even two Aurors, could do against such a force? Why did he place them in the line of fire like that, if they'd never stand a chance when it came to it?

"Dumbledore reckons they won't dare, right under the nose of the Minister himself. He reckons they'll be trying to get in by stealth." Sirius was relieved, but only until Tonks continued, "He says the far greater danger is being caught by someone from the Ministry itself." Tonks said it as if she was talking about alien enemies, not her own colleagues. "They're merciless when it comes to trespassing. With Fudge getting more paranoid by the day, now more than ever. That's why Moody wanted to see us first, to make sure the Order is perfectly acquainted with the building, the whole structure and organization of it, the working hours and all that. He also wants us, the Ministry people I mean, to do as many shifts as we can - we could always come up with some excuse for being there if we're seen." Tonks suddenly shuddered as if she was cold, and yawned.

"How do you do that, six hour shifts and your normal work?"

"With little sleep," Tonks said, and blushed. "Last night, Remus had to shake me awake twice. And he was doing the shifts before me and after me as well."

Sirius stopped by the window and stared out of it onto the quiet square below. He pitied his friend, and Tonks too, for wearing themselves out like that for the Order, but at Tonks's last words, he had felt a fierce stab of jealousy. It seemed incredibly unfair that Tonks should be sitting snug under an Invisibility Cloak with Remus Lupin, wands at the ready and the prospect of a decent duel at hand, while he was stuck here in Grimmauld Place with nothing to do. By rights, her place should have been his.

"And how long is it going to go on like that?" he asked, turning back to her, more annoyed than sympathetic.

"Not long, I hope," Tonks said. "Dumbledore will explain it all to the Order on Thursday, there'll probably be more volunteers then."

"I'll volunteer," Sirius said at once.

"You - oh." Tonks was rather taken aback. "I don't think - "

"You don't think I'm up to it, do you?"

Tonks frowned at him. "Of course you'd be," she said irritably. "But Dumbledore wouldn't - "

"I know he wouldn't," Sirius interrupted her sarcastically. "He'd rather have you and Lupin and the others die of sleep deprivation and exhaustion, wouldn't he?"

"Don't be silly, it's not that bad." She was making a valiant effort to sound convincing.

"Looks like it is, if Lupin can't even write a single line to me."

"It's not that," said Tonks impatiently. "Do you really think Moody would have let Remus put any of this in a letter, even if he had had a quiet moment to write?"

"Then why didn't he let me know in some other way what was going on? At least that he was OK?"

"I told you, that's why I'm here."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Yes, after three days, Sirius thought, but he didn't say it.

"It's been really stressful," said Tonks. "For all of us."

With that, Sirius privately agreed. He came back to the sofa and slumped down on it again. "So why can't I come and join you?"

Tonks looked at him unhappily, but made no answer.

"Nobody would see me," he said quickly. "Under the Invisibility Cloak, nobody would know it's me. It sounds like the perfect job for me. I'm good at hiding."

But Tonks was shaking her head vehemently. "Don't you understand?" She was beginning to sound rather exasperated. "It's extremely dangerous! This is not about a pleasant night time stroll in a quiet Muggle neighbourhood, Sirius. We're in the heart of the enemy's territory. The lion's den. You sneeze, and you've had it!"

"I won't sneeze."

"Don't be stupid!" Tonks exclaimed. "What do you think will happen when they catch you in the Ministry, Sirius? Do you think you'd stand a chance? Do you think they'd listen? Not even Kingsley Shacklebolt could save you then, even if he got a chance to try. You'd be dead, or worse, within moments." She looked at him almost pleadingly, and suddenly reached out and took his hand. "It would be suicide," she said in a very small voice. "Suicide."

Sirius had been about to say 'so what?', but something in the way her voice had almost failed her at her last words stopped him. Her tired eyes, sea-green today, were glistening. She cared, he suddenly realised. She cared whether he lived or died. After so many years of getting used to people wishing him dead, the idea positively overwhelmed him. He didn't know what to say. He became aware that she was still holding his hand, and his was shaking rather badly. Very slowly and carefully, he withdrew his hand from hers.

"All right then," he said quietly. "Never mind. I hope you find enough volunteers tomorrow." He found it easy to say now. He was saying it to make Tonks happy, to stop her crying and worrying about him, rather than because he knew he wouldn't be allowed to go anyway - and it felt so much better this way.

"Are you OK?" he asked awkwardly.

Tonks wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and tried to smile. "It's just the stress," she said. "I'll be all right in a minute."

They sat together in silence for rather more than a minute.

"So," Sirius suggested tentatively after a while, "do you want to take a nap, or eat something, or - ?"

"Something to eat would be great," Tonks said bravely. "I've got to be back at six for my next shift."