Disclaimer: This is fanfiction. Therefore, I am not JK Rowling and I don't
own anything.
Rating: G
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There was already a large group of people gathered around the table with white, drawn faces. The instant he stepped out of the fire he felt someone take his arm and lead him to a seat.
"We... we hoped you'd come here..." Hestia Jones, her usually pink cheeks pale and stained by tears, handed him a large mug of coffee before taking her own seat again. Sturgis Podmore, never usually demonstrative, patted his arm comfortingly, and across the table Alice Longbottom let out a strangled sob. Suddenly self-conscious, he scrubbed at the tear marks on his own face, looking down at his mug. Their faces said it all; they had been worried about him.
"What..." he could not bring himself to ask again what had happened. "What do we know?" he asked instead. Dumbledore was not there, the one person he would really have trusted to know the truth at the bottom of the rumours, but between them the members of the Order who had been waiting here in silence should have a pretty good picture.
"James and Lily," whispered Hestia. "Oh, Remus, I'm so sorry. He... he turned up in Godric's Hollow. You-Know-Who. He... he killed them."
Remus refused to look at any of them. "I know," he mumbled. "I heard. But... they're saying that Voldemort's gone?" Some of them flinched; even among the Order most people did not like to say the name of the wizard who had plagued their world for the last eleven years. Sirius and James had never been afraid of saying it, so Remus had been determined that neither would he.
"We don't know for sure." Sturgis Podmore took up the narrative. "We're waiting for Dumbledore to confirm it, but what they're saying... What they're saying is that after he killed Lily and James." his voice cracked slightly. Even those who had not known the Potters well had liked and respected them. "He tried to kill their son. And something went wrong. It didn't work. No one really knows what happened, but when he tried to kill the little boy, he was... destroyed."
"Harry's only a year old!"
Sturgis and Hestia shrugged. Alice Longbottom was still crying quietly. Emmeline Vance, a witch he only knew vaguely, met his eyes with the same puzzlement.
"We hope Dumbledore might be able to shed some light on it," said Sturgis. "As I said, no one really knows."
Remus felt numb. He sipped his coffee without really tasting it, and cradled the mug in his cold hands.
"But..." he said, trying to voice his biggest question. "How did he find them at all? Sirius..." he stopped. Not everyone had known about the Fidelius Charm or that Sirius was the Potters' Secret-Keeper. "Where is Sirius?" he asked instead.
No one would meet his eyes. The panic began to swell up again.
"Where's Sirius? What's happened to him?"
"We've got people looking for him," muttered Emmeline Vance gruffly. No one would say any more, and their eyes still kept sliding away when he looked at them.
They all think he's dead, he thought with a leaden certainty in the pit of his stomach. How could this be? He and his friends had seen so many deaths... Dorcas Meadowes, Gideon and Fabien Prewett... he did not like to think of what had happened to poor Benjy Fenwick, and they had killed not only Edgar Bones and Marlene McKinnon but their families too. But despite all the fear, despite the sinking resignation every time, to lose two of his three best friends in one night... He wondered vaguely where Peter was, the last of their group, but could not find the heart to speak again. They sat in silence, waiting for Dumbledore to turn up and answer all questions.
By daybreak, he had still not arrived. Most of them still clutched their now-empty mugs, the cold dregs of coffee showing how long they had been sitting there. Emmeline Vance made breakfast, though no one did much more than pick at it, and one by one they disappeared for work. Their roles in the Order were kept secret, and even if Voldemort *was* gone - stopped by some miracle when he tried to kill little Harry Potter - the Order would still be needed. There would still be his followers to deal with.
Remus had no job; no one would employ a werewolf. Frank Longbottom, who had arrived to collect his wife and take her home before they had to go to the Ministry, gave him a pitying look and suggested he help himself to one of the bedrooms upstairs. He mumbled something about waiting for news, but Frank would hear none of it.
"Hestia will be back shortly to wait for Dumbledore," he said, kindly. "You need to sleep, Remus; I suppose you've been up all night? We'll be sure to wake you as soon as we hear anything. Go on. Get some sleep. Maybe it will seem more real afterwards." His face was tired and sad; he had known James and Lily too, of course.
Remus knew there was nothing he could do. He wanted to help look for Sirius, but he would not know where to start, and in any case the others had refused when he had tentatively suggested it. He had been tired before all this had happened; that was how he had come to fall asleep in the armchair at the safe house. He did not know how he would be able to sleep when all he could do was think of James and worry about Sirius, but his eyes were heavy and he supposed he ought to try and get some rest.
"You promise to wake me? I don't want to miss anything."
"Of course," promised Frank.
Despite his grief and his worries, he fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. His tiredness would not wait while he dealt with his emotions, it seemed. When he was woken by the slamming of a door, having been plagued by terrible dreams of James, Lily, Sirius and Peter dying, he could see by the clock on the wall that it was mid afternoon.
They had not woken him! Dumbledore must have come by now with news, and they had let him sleep despite Frank's promise. He jumped out of bed and hurried downstairs.
Voices drifted up to him from the kitchen; not Dumbledore but Hestia Jones.
"Any news?" she asked.
"None," replied a slightly wheezy voice that Remus recognised as belonging to Elphias Doge. "No sign of Dumbledore yet, I take it?"
"No," sighed Hestia. Remus stumbled to a halt on the stairs. He had been so sure that someone must have heard something by now.
"Hmm. He couldn't tell me much last night; there wasn't much time. I don't suppose we'll know what happened until we hear it from him. There's all sorts of rumours flying around out there, but no one actually *knows* anything."
"And Sirius?" Remus' heart leapt again. Elphias must have been one of those looking for his friend.
"Nothing. Where are the other boys, do you know?"
"Remus is upstairs, sleeping. He arrived early this morning, looking terrible. Poor thing." Hestia was only a little older than Remus and his friends, but everyone else still called them the boys. They were the youngest in the Order. He had been so proud when they had been invited to join. Dumbledore did not trust just anyone. "I haven't seen Peter... Come to think of it, no one's seen Peter for a while now."
"I'll pass the word out to look for him, too," Elphias said. "I can trust you to make sure Lupin doesn't do anything stupid, Jonesy?"
"Of course." Hestia hesitated. "Actually... he doesn't know, yet. He thinks Sirius is in trouble, maybe dead... No one wanted to tell him."
"Maybe that's best. I don't know them well, but unless we have proof that Black has gone over to You-Know-Who, I expect Lupin would defend him to the death?"
"You're probably right. You know... I have trouble believing it myself. If any of us were to turn traitor, I would have put him as one of the last. Did you ever see him with James? Or the baby? No one would ever have thought..."
Remus stood frozen on the dark stairwell, unable to believe what he was hearing. How could they? How could they think that Sirius would ever betray them? Ever betray *James*? He wanted to rush into the kitchen and confront them, demand they take it back, but his feet seemed to be glued to the step.
"That's what made him such a good spy," said Elphias darkly. "No one suspected him. Perhaps we should have done, considering his... background, but I'm as guilty of the oversight as the rest of you. But Dumbledore was positive when I spoke to him last night."
*Dumbledore* was positive? Remus' certainty was suddenly knocked. Hestia and Elphias did not know about the Fidelius Charm, but Dumbledore did. It had been his idea. He remembered how they had explained it, saying that no would be able to find James and Lily unless the Secret-Keeper told them how.
But Voldemort *had* found James and Lily. He had assumed that meant Sirius was hurt, but if Sirius had gone bad...
"I'd better be going," sighed Elphias. "You know how to contact me when Dumbledore shows up?"
"Yes, of course. You're sure you won't stay for something to eat?"
"Thanks, Jonesy, but I've too much to do. We're still looking for Black, and if I'm going to try and find Pettigrew as well..." Their voices were getting louder. Remus wondered if he should go back upstairs before they realised he had heard - after all, said a nasty voice at the back of his mind, they did not want you to know at all - but before he could move they came out into the hall and saw him standing there.
"Oh!" exclaimed Hestia, clapping her hands to her mouth. "Oh... oh, Remus..."
His face was chalk white and his hands were trembling, gripping the banister so tightly that he could feel the metal biting into his flesh. Hestia looked absolutely mortified; Elphias looked grim but would not meet his eyes. He fought for something to say, some argument to convince them, but nothing would come. They did not know Sirius and James as he did; he had no proof but his certainty that Sirius would never, never bring harm to James.
"You're wrong," he croaked eventually, and fled back upstairs to his borrowed bedroom.
Rating: G
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There was already a large group of people gathered around the table with white, drawn faces. The instant he stepped out of the fire he felt someone take his arm and lead him to a seat.
"We... we hoped you'd come here..." Hestia Jones, her usually pink cheeks pale and stained by tears, handed him a large mug of coffee before taking her own seat again. Sturgis Podmore, never usually demonstrative, patted his arm comfortingly, and across the table Alice Longbottom let out a strangled sob. Suddenly self-conscious, he scrubbed at the tear marks on his own face, looking down at his mug. Their faces said it all; they had been worried about him.
"What..." he could not bring himself to ask again what had happened. "What do we know?" he asked instead. Dumbledore was not there, the one person he would really have trusted to know the truth at the bottom of the rumours, but between them the members of the Order who had been waiting here in silence should have a pretty good picture.
"James and Lily," whispered Hestia. "Oh, Remus, I'm so sorry. He... he turned up in Godric's Hollow. You-Know-Who. He... he killed them."
Remus refused to look at any of them. "I know," he mumbled. "I heard. But... they're saying that Voldemort's gone?" Some of them flinched; even among the Order most people did not like to say the name of the wizard who had plagued their world for the last eleven years. Sirius and James had never been afraid of saying it, so Remus had been determined that neither would he.
"We don't know for sure." Sturgis Podmore took up the narrative. "We're waiting for Dumbledore to confirm it, but what they're saying... What they're saying is that after he killed Lily and James." his voice cracked slightly. Even those who had not known the Potters well had liked and respected them. "He tried to kill their son. And something went wrong. It didn't work. No one really knows what happened, but when he tried to kill the little boy, he was... destroyed."
"Harry's only a year old!"
Sturgis and Hestia shrugged. Alice Longbottom was still crying quietly. Emmeline Vance, a witch he only knew vaguely, met his eyes with the same puzzlement.
"We hope Dumbledore might be able to shed some light on it," said Sturgis. "As I said, no one really knows."
Remus felt numb. He sipped his coffee without really tasting it, and cradled the mug in his cold hands.
"But..." he said, trying to voice his biggest question. "How did he find them at all? Sirius..." he stopped. Not everyone had known about the Fidelius Charm or that Sirius was the Potters' Secret-Keeper. "Where is Sirius?" he asked instead.
No one would meet his eyes. The panic began to swell up again.
"Where's Sirius? What's happened to him?"
"We've got people looking for him," muttered Emmeline Vance gruffly. No one would say any more, and their eyes still kept sliding away when he looked at them.
They all think he's dead, he thought with a leaden certainty in the pit of his stomach. How could this be? He and his friends had seen so many deaths... Dorcas Meadowes, Gideon and Fabien Prewett... he did not like to think of what had happened to poor Benjy Fenwick, and they had killed not only Edgar Bones and Marlene McKinnon but their families too. But despite all the fear, despite the sinking resignation every time, to lose two of his three best friends in one night... He wondered vaguely where Peter was, the last of their group, but could not find the heart to speak again. They sat in silence, waiting for Dumbledore to turn up and answer all questions.
By daybreak, he had still not arrived. Most of them still clutched their now-empty mugs, the cold dregs of coffee showing how long they had been sitting there. Emmeline Vance made breakfast, though no one did much more than pick at it, and one by one they disappeared for work. Their roles in the Order were kept secret, and even if Voldemort *was* gone - stopped by some miracle when he tried to kill little Harry Potter - the Order would still be needed. There would still be his followers to deal with.
Remus had no job; no one would employ a werewolf. Frank Longbottom, who had arrived to collect his wife and take her home before they had to go to the Ministry, gave him a pitying look and suggested he help himself to one of the bedrooms upstairs. He mumbled something about waiting for news, but Frank would hear none of it.
"Hestia will be back shortly to wait for Dumbledore," he said, kindly. "You need to sleep, Remus; I suppose you've been up all night? We'll be sure to wake you as soon as we hear anything. Go on. Get some sleep. Maybe it will seem more real afterwards." His face was tired and sad; he had known James and Lily too, of course.
Remus knew there was nothing he could do. He wanted to help look for Sirius, but he would not know where to start, and in any case the others had refused when he had tentatively suggested it. He had been tired before all this had happened; that was how he had come to fall asleep in the armchair at the safe house. He did not know how he would be able to sleep when all he could do was think of James and worry about Sirius, but his eyes were heavy and he supposed he ought to try and get some rest.
"You promise to wake me? I don't want to miss anything."
"Of course," promised Frank.
Despite his grief and his worries, he fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. His tiredness would not wait while he dealt with his emotions, it seemed. When he was woken by the slamming of a door, having been plagued by terrible dreams of James, Lily, Sirius and Peter dying, he could see by the clock on the wall that it was mid afternoon.
They had not woken him! Dumbledore must have come by now with news, and they had let him sleep despite Frank's promise. He jumped out of bed and hurried downstairs.
Voices drifted up to him from the kitchen; not Dumbledore but Hestia Jones.
"Any news?" she asked.
"None," replied a slightly wheezy voice that Remus recognised as belonging to Elphias Doge. "No sign of Dumbledore yet, I take it?"
"No," sighed Hestia. Remus stumbled to a halt on the stairs. He had been so sure that someone must have heard something by now.
"Hmm. He couldn't tell me much last night; there wasn't much time. I don't suppose we'll know what happened until we hear it from him. There's all sorts of rumours flying around out there, but no one actually *knows* anything."
"And Sirius?" Remus' heart leapt again. Elphias must have been one of those looking for his friend.
"Nothing. Where are the other boys, do you know?"
"Remus is upstairs, sleeping. He arrived early this morning, looking terrible. Poor thing." Hestia was only a little older than Remus and his friends, but everyone else still called them the boys. They were the youngest in the Order. He had been so proud when they had been invited to join. Dumbledore did not trust just anyone. "I haven't seen Peter... Come to think of it, no one's seen Peter for a while now."
"I'll pass the word out to look for him, too," Elphias said. "I can trust you to make sure Lupin doesn't do anything stupid, Jonesy?"
"Of course." Hestia hesitated. "Actually... he doesn't know, yet. He thinks Sirius is in trouble, maybe dead... No one wanted to tell him."
"Maybe that's best. I don't know them well, but unless we have proof that Black has gone over to You-Know-Who, I expect Lupin would defend him to the death?"
"You're probably right. You know... I have trouble believing it myself. If any of us were to turn traitor, I would have put him as one of the last. Did you ever see him with James? Or the baby? No one would ever have thought..."
Remus stood frozen on the dark stairwell, unable to believe what he was hearing. How could they? How could they think that Sirius would ever betray them? Ever betray *James*? He wanted to rush into the kitchen and confront them, demand they take it back, but his feet seemed to be glued to the step.
"That's what made him such a good spy," said Elphias darkly. "No one suspected him. Perhaps we should have done, considering his... background, but I'm as guilty of the oversight as the rest of you. But Dumbledore was positive when I spoke to him last night."
*Dumbledore* was positive? Remus' certainty was suddenly knocked. Hestia and Elphias did not know about the Fidelius Charm, but Dumbledore did. It had been his idea. He remembered how they had explained it, saying that no would be able to find James and Lily unless the Secret-Keeper told them how.
But Voldemort *had* found James and Lily. He had assumed that meant Sirius was hurt, but if Sirius had gone bad...
"I'd better be going," sighed Elphias. "You know how to contact me when Dumbledore shows up?"
"Yes, of course. You're sure you won't stay for something to eat?"
"Thanks, Jonesy, but I've too much to do. We're still looking for Black, and if I'm going to try and find Pettigrew as well..." Their voices were getting louder. Remus wondered if he should go back upstairs before they realised he had heard - after all, said a nasty voice at the back of his mind, they did not want you to know at all - but before he could move they came out into the hall and saw him standing there.
"Oh!" exclaimed Hestia, clapping her hands to her mouth. "Oh... oh, Remus..."
His face was chalk white and his hands were trembling, gripping the banister so tightly that he could feel the metal biting into his flesh. Hestia looked absolutely mortified; Elphias looked grim but would not meet his eyes. He fought for something to say, some argument to convince them, but nothing would come. They did not know Sirius and James as he did; he had no proof but his certainty that Sirius would never, never bring harm to James.
"You're wrong," he croaked eventually, and fled back upstairs to his borrowed bedroom.