None of this is mine, of course. Many thanks to the reviewers of earlier ‘chapters’. You really made my day! Last but not least, thanks also to Brittney, who did the editing.

The passing of the Christmas holidays at Nr. 12 had been continuously marked by the hushed coming and goings of different members of the Order. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had not been able to make much sense of these. Even Fred and George, who had been more forthcoming during the summer, had been oddly reticent lately. That afternoon, Lupin, Bill, and Mundungus Fletcher had been cooped up in the drawing room for hours on end. When the meeting finally ended, Mundungus' parting shot by the unbolted door had been a not-so-hushed 'you're both crazy,' which had set off the shrieks of Mrs. Black's portrait again. Mrs. Weasley looked constantly worried and though he had not mentioned this to the others, Harry felt that what little information Tonks had let slip the other night had rather added to his worries. Something was going on

Hermione had suggested the boys' bedroom for their night-time council, but Harry, knowing something about how light the sleep of the other residents in fact was, had insisted on using the kitchen. Now, as they waited to slip downstairs, all was quiet. When they finally ventured down past the menacing portrait, there had been no sound of movement in the house for the last quarter of an hour. Passing Mrs. Black, they waited a moment with bated breath, but the portrait's curtains remained closed and the silence undisturbed.

It appeared they had broken some sort of a charm placed on the kitchen door, because Harry could have sworn there had been no hint of sound or light from behind it. At first, no one took any notice of their entry.

Professor Lupin had his back to them where he stood in his shirt sleeves, watching something sizzle in a pan on the fire. He was humming slightly, following the low tune from the wireless that was perched on a shelf. Where it had come from, Harry didn't know. Tonks was next to him, busy sniffing appreciatively at the pan.

At the table, there lay a thick black tome, bearing the title 'A Concise Chart of Curious Wards'. It had been abandoned face down together with a quill and a roll of parchment, half-filled with scribbled diagrams. Two chairs had been pulled out and left at odd angles. One pulled out only a quarter, as if someone had been sitting there with his feet up, jotting down absentminded notes, only to get up suddenly. It occurred to Harry by the door that this person would have been facing the clock on the mantelpiece.

Then there was the characteristic smell of wet wool drying in the heat, emanating from Tonks' cloak, which hung damp with snow over the back of a chair. She had kicked her boots off too, (comma) and now she stood by the fire, feet clad in socks only, peeking over Lupin's shoulder. Her hand rested lightly on his back, at a point just below his collar. They were different. The set of Lupin's shoulders had relaxed and as Tonks turned round at the sound of Hermione's awkward cough, Harry saw that though the toll her double workload was taking on her was still visible in her face, her face was alight now and a little flushed.

Lupin turned too.

"Oh, a midnight council," he said, an amused look settling on his face as he took in their startled appearance.

Harry smiled back. They were, after all, huddled together just past the threshold, and had nearly trodden on each others heals as they had come to their sudden halt. "You're welcome to join ours, of course," Lupin went on briskly. "Otherwise I believe the drawing room is empty. Either way, you should probably close that door."