Chapter 07 – Friendships

Sirius had nearly forgotten what an exhausting business war was. True, he had led an exhausting life in general, but being on the run from the authorities was a different kind of exhausting business than trying to fight a war. Still, two days after the attacks in London there was a regular coming and going at headquarters, people were constantly dropping reports, waiting for others to show up, or simply trying to grab a bite to eat or a few hours of sleep between before or after work or in between shifts. It certainly wasn't helping that most Order members had a normal job keeping them busy beside whatever task the Order was giving them.

And even Sirius, as one of the few who didn't need to arrange Order work with his private life or job, already felt the exhaustion of what they were doing. Day and night no longer were the criteria for when to sleep and when not. They all worked for as long as they could, whenever a certain opportunity presented itself, and ate and grabbed some sleep whenever there were some short minutes or hours for it in between. That was about it, and it was exhausting.

By now the official Ministry investigations of the attacks in London were finished, but nobody really was any wiser. It had been attacks caused definitely by wizards, most probably by Death Eaters, yet there was no single sign of identification that tied Voldemort's ranks to the attacks. A puzzling fact, seeing that Voldemort and the Death Eaters had always taken care to claim their crimes for them.

But that was how it was, and Sirius was not the kind of person to puzzle endlessly about facts like that. It was disturbing, but for now they did not have an explanation that was based on more than pure guesswork.

Sooner or later they'd find the answer, for now Sirius was still busy catching up with not only the information of the past forty-eight hours, but also with everything that had happened while he had been away. Or rather, while he had been dead. Or whatever he had been, Sirius still wasn't entirely sure which label to put on it. Not dead, though. Saying that he had been dead would mean that he had been resurrected, and that was a thought Sirius did not want to contemplate because it sent icy shivers down his spine. To avoid a further conflict of naming his condition, he settled on thinking of his absence as a time during which he had been physically incapacitated. At least that was a word that didn't send shivers down Sirius' spine.

And in any case it was of no use to bother himself with finding a good description for what had happened to him. The Order of the Phoenix was by no means a bureaucratic institution, but because the times when all the members were present were rare and far in between there was paperwork. Members wrote reports on whatever they were investigating or on whatever they had found out so that those members who were not present at certain meetings didn't have to wait for someone to tell them. Thusly resulted paperwork which was kept in Sirius' father's former study for the members to check. Quite a lot of paperwork, actually. In any case far too much paperwork for Sirius' liking.

But over the past couple of days he had learned to appreciate the paperwork. Of course Remus had told Sirius what had been going on during his absence, but listening to Remus was something else than reading the reports. Listening to Remus was easier, of course, and far more interesting. But the reports were detailed, and especially during the time that Remus had spent at Hogwarts he had missed quite a number of Order meetings.

Sirius didn't quite know why exactly he was slowly working his way through all those scrolls of parchment. For some reason however he had the feeling that he needed to know what had been going on, that he needed to be up to date with his information in order to make the right choices when the time came. After all, it was no longer solely his own life he was responsible for.

And that was what was driving him on, Sirius realised. That thought was the force that made him read through all those reports and meeting protocols until his eyes burned and his head throbbed.

He was responsible for Harry now, and once this whole thing blew up Harry would be right in the middle of it. It was a painful realisation, but there was no way that Sirius would be able to keep his godson out of this. Voldemort wanted Harry dead, needed Harry dead if only to prove his point, and Sirius would do anything in his power to keep his godson safe from harm.

Thinking about Harry made a strange mixture of feelings rise up in Sirius' chest. Affection, for the most part, but also a whole lot of worry, amongst other things. Sirius still wasn't entirely used to the fact that he was free and officially in charge of Harry's upbringing, and there were moments when the sheer amount of responsibility that came along with that task seemed to overwhelm him.

But it was easy enough to break down to that, Sirius mused. He needed to keep Harry from coming to harm, for the teenager's sake as much as for his own. And to make sure that Harry would not be hurt any further, Sirius desperately needed to make sure that he's make the right choices. And for that, he simply had to know as much as he could about what was going on.

Sirius sighed and downed his cup of half-warm tea. The kitchen at Grimmauld Place had been too loud and busy for his taste earlier on, so he had retreated into his bedroom to read in peace. But now his eyes were stinging and a slight pulsing behind his temples announced an upcoming headache. His concentration had vanished and Sirius realised that he would not get much farther today. What he needed now was a distraction, otherwise he'd become mad soon.

At that moment there was a knock on his door.

"Come in," Sirius called and turned around towards the door. It opened and Remus stepped into the room. Sirius smiled. He knew that Remus was perceptive, but sometimes Sirius thought that his friend could read his mind. Remus closed the door, took a good look at Sirius and frowned slightly.

"Are you all right?"

Sirius shrugged. "I can't focus anymore, that's all."

Remus looked at Sirius for a long moment, then he shook his head slightly and sat down on the bed.

"No small wonder, you've been up here for hours. I'd say you could do with a break."

Sirius sighed and nodded. "Yes, you're right. It's just not that easy to stop my mind from working."

Remus smiled. "I'd daresay that this is what brought you into so much trouble at school. Lessons were not enough to keep you occupied, and the other ways you chose to keep your busy mind from straying were not at all according to the school rules."

"Only this is not about pouring a stinking solution into the Slytherin's Quidditch locker room water supply."

A distant look settled on Remus' face. "I wish it still was."

Sirius smiled. "Yes, things seemed so much more easy back then."

Sirius turned back towards the desk and started to stack the reports and parchments to create at least some sense of order. It was bad enough that he couldn't seem to get some order into his mind.

His shoulders and neck were stiff from sitting bent over the desk for hours and announced their abuse painfully every time Sirius moved. He leaned his head towards his chest and circled his shoulders, but to no avail. There was the sound of movement behind him and a moment later a warm pair of hands settled on his shoulders and squeezed gently. Sirius sighed and closed his eyes.

"I'll have to ask Albus whether there's a chance that we can get a massage therapist to move in here."

Remus laughed and gently but firmly began to knead the sore muscles in Sirius' shoulders and back.

"Until that is the case, you'll have to settle with me."

"You won't hear any complaints from my side."

"Maybe you should just pay a little more attention to not sitting stooped like that for hours," Remus said.

"My mind was on those reports, not on how comfortable I was. Or rather, wasn't. You can't by any chance massage away the buzzing in my head as well?"

Remus chuckled. "I'm afraid not. But how about I continue to take care of your neck and shoulders for now, and you tell me what you've learned from your hours of brooding over all those dusty parchments."

Sirius closed his eyes again, let his head fall forward and breathed deeply. "I had hoped that things were making more sense if only I tried to see the whole picture."

"That isn't the case?"

Sirius shook his head slightly. "Well, nothing big came popping out at me, at least nothing I didn't already know. However impossible it seems, but so far Voldemort seems to restrain his activities to Britain. There's no single sign that he's been acting anywhere on the continent."

"Albus said he was watching the development in Russia, anyway."

Sirius nodded, gratefully noticing how the sting in his muscles seemed to evaporate slowly. "Yes, and I think he's right to do so. Not much good has come from Durmstrang during the past war. But even if Russia is truly all quiet and peaceful at the moment, the rest is bad enough. Voldemort has got the Dementors, he's got the giants, he's got an army of Death Eaters and keeps on recruiting more and more. It'll only be a matter or time until the first Inferi sightings are reported. I'm fairly sure that despite everything we know, he has at least worked hard on recruiting vampires, and the goblins worry me greatly. Nobody should need to think for such a long time about which side they stand on, I don't really want to know what Voldemort's reign could promise them. And I don't even want to know what will be next on his list."
Remus' hands stopped their movement on Sirius' shoulders and withdrew. Frowning slightly, Sirius turned around and looked at Remus, who had withdrawn a few steps and was staring out of the window. Only now did Sirius realise that Remus might have had a different reason entirely for searching him out earlier. He got up from his chair.

"What is wrong?"

"He's got the werewolves."

Sirius' heart sank. "What? How? And how do you know?"

Remus sighed deeply, but he didn't meet Sirius' eyes. "Moody just reported in. It seems that Voldemort is threatening the Ministry with setting a great number of werewolves loose in a closely inhabited area with the next full moon if Fudge doesn't resign immediately. That isn't an empty threat, Sirius."

Remus' voice was low and strained, but as Sirius made a step towards him he immediately made a step back to keep their distance.

"Remus, we always knew he'd try to recruit werewolves. And what with the way the Ministry treats them, it's no small wonder that they want to believe him."

Remus slowly shook his head. "He's rounding them up, Sirius. One werewolf is bad enough, can you imagine what havoc groups of werewolves can cause? How many people they'll bite, curse and kill? How many wizards, witches, muggles, adults, children?"

"Yes, I can imagine. I don't want that to happen, either. But whatever Fudge will do, it won't stop Voldemort from setting them loose. And for as long as we don't know where he'll let them strike, there is nothing we can do at the moment."

Remus silently stared at the floor for some long, silent moments, and the strain around his eyes and mouth grew more pronounced. Then he looked up.

"I've just been to Hogwarts, I had a long talk with Albus. I came here to tell you that I'll be gone for a while."

A leaden weight settled in the pit of Sirius' stomach. "He can't ask that of you. He cannot possibly demand that of you."

Remus shook his head. "Albus didn't demand anything from me. He didn't call me to Hogwarts, I went there on my own volition. Albus didn't ask me to do it, I offered to do it."

Sirius made a step towards Remus and, before Remus could take another step back, reached for his shoulders and held him in place. "Why?"

"You know very well why, Sirius."
"No, I don't!" Sirius let go of Remus' shoulders and started to pace the length of the room angrily. "I don't understand why you're doing this to yourself. Don't you think I know what this will do to you? What will happen to you if you're going to stay with them?"

"I am one of them, Sirius."

"No, you are not! Yes, you are a werewolf. But you're not like them. You've got yourself under control, Remus. You don't lash out your anger about your condition at those who were lucky enough not to encounter a werewolf at night when they were only five years old. You never turned your anger against anybody who treated you badly. And now you're telling me that you're voluntarily going to join those who represent everything you never wanted to become?"

Remus was breathing harshly but still he refused to meet Sirius' eyes. "We need to know what is going on, and I am the only one who can get the information we need."

"They're going to know what you are, Remus. They are going to know that you are not like them. Do you honestly think they will trust you once they realise that you've been living amongst humans, that you've voluntarily integrated yourself into a society that despises what you are? What they are? They won't trust you, you're only putting yourself into danger."

Remus shook his head. "I'll have to take that risk, and I doubt it's as big as you think it is. Fact is that we need to know what is going on, and I am our only chance to find that out."

"And what will happen at full moon?"

A shadow crossed Remus' face and he shuddered slightly. "I have every intention of being back before the next full moon. It's more than three weeks away, and if I have the slightest chance to find out where Voldemort intends for the werewolves to strike until then, don't you think it's a chance I have to take?"

"There is more to it than this, Remus. What do you think you have to prove?"

"Nothing."
Sirius stubbornly shook his head. "What is it, Remus?"
Remus drew another deep breath, and his eyes became hard and vacant. "Greyback. I am sure that it's him Voldemort put in charge of recruiting the werewolves."

Sirius' face hardened. "That's it. You are not going."

"It's not your decision to make, Sirius! I appreciate that you're worrying, but you cannot tell me what to do and what not."

Sirius had resumed his pacing, and the glances he threw at Remus were both angry and concerned at the same time. "I just don't want you to put yourself into unnecessary danger. And Fenrir Greyback means unnecessary danger."

"He can hardly bite me again, can he?"

"Does your father know about this? Or your brother?"

Remus' face hardened within moments. "I am nearly thirty-eight years old, Sirius. I don't need to tell either of them where I'm going or what I'm doing. It has nothing to do with them. And don't try to make me feel guilty just to make me stay here. My decision has been made, I only wanted to tell you that I will leave tonight and won't be back in a while. I doubt that many letters will arrive for me, but could you take care of anything that might arrive?"

Sirius nodded. "Sure. Just take care that you come back in once piece, all right? Even if you don't find out as much as you want to."

Remus nodded. "I will. Thank you, Sirius."

He turned towards the door when Sirius' voice stopped him. "How will you know where to look for them?"

Remus smiled sadly. "Oh, I don't doubt that I will find them. Good bye, Sirius."

"Bye Remus. Take care."
Remus nodded once, then he left the room. Sirius stared at the spot where his friend had vanished a moment ago for a long time, then he sighed shakily and sank down on the bed with his face in his hands.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The whispers and the stares followed Harry wherever he went that day. He had not bothered to read what the paper had had to say about him, from the little Ginny had told him earlier he could very well guess what the article had been like. And he didn't care, or rather, he told himself that he didn't care. For the entire last year, the Daily Prophet had written about him again and again, he didn't give a damn about whether they changed the tone of their reports on him right now.

But aside from the article, something else had him bothered far more, and that was Hermione's continuous behaviour of ignoring Ron and him. It couldn't go on like that for any longer.

Hermione had bustled off to the library after dinner, and Harry had not wanted to corner her there. Instead he had tried to finish his homework in the common room, but had found himself unable to concentrate properly. Aside from the worry about his friendship with Hermione, Voldemort's threats against the Ministry had also not gone out of his mind. In the end Harry had pushed his Transfiguration essay aside, had pulled out a blank piece of parchment and had composed a letter to Sirius.

Dear Sirius,

today's special edition of the Daily Prophet has all of us really worried. I have learned not to trust the papers in everything they write, but even if it's only partly true, it sounds bad enough. I would be a lot calmer if we could talk again soon. Is there any chance that you'll drop by in Hogwarts in the near future?

Take care, and say hi to Remus and the Weasleys from me.

Love,

Harry.

After writing the letter, Harry's worried about the article in the Daily Prophet had calmed down a little. He sent Hedwig off with the letter, then made his way down to Gryffindor Tower.

When Harry came back into the common room, he was relieved to notice that Hermione was sitting alone in an armchair in front of the fireplace, a book in her lap. There were a few third-years nearby, but they seemed to be busy doing their Divination homework, snorting amongst themselves as they made up something to write in their predictions. Harry went over to Hermione and sat down in the armchair next to her, putting his backpack onto the floor beside him. Hermione looked up from her book, and upon seeing Harry immediately looked down again.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Hermione shrugged, still not looking up.

"I mean, can I talk to you for a moment without you looking into that book?"

With an exasperated sigh, Hermione closed the book and put it on the table beside her. "Yes?"

"Hermione, do we really want to keep this up?"

"Keep what up," she responded sharply.

"This. Not talking to each other when we don't have to. You obviously being angry with me still. Me using horrible grammar."

That brought a small smile onto Hermione's face, though she quickly struggled to suppress it. But Harry was glad that at least a little of the ice had been broken.

"Listen, I know that are angry with me for what I did during the summer holidays. And with Ron for allowing me to drag him into this."

"Well, I have a right to be angry, don't you think? You locked me into a broom closet!"

A few of the third years turned their heads at those words, but Hermione shot them a sharp glance and they quickly returned to their homework. Harry sighed.

"I know, and believe me that I regret it. It's just…I just didn't see any other way. I know that I've made a couple of mistakes, that I could have handled a lot of things better, but I wasn't really thinking clearly at that time. Not to mention that I didn't have much time to think it all through." Seeing that Hermione was about to say something, he quickly shook his head. "I know what you're going to say. And you are right, that didn't give me the right to do what I did."

"But still you did it. And probably would do it again."

Hermione's voice was soft, but determined. And Harry found that he couldn't reasonably disagree. He probably would do it again, because in the end it had brought Sirius back. At a price, obviously, but he didn't want that price to be the loss of Hermione's friendship.

"Yes, I probably would do it again. Knowing what I do now, I'd do a couple of things differently, but you are right in saying that I would go all those lengths again to bring Sirius back."

"The end justifies the means and all that."

Harry shook his head, feeling reminded of the conversations he had had with Remus and the Weasleys about that topic. "No, Hermione. And you should know me better than that. I admit that a lot of what I did that night was illegal, risky, not well planned and head over heels, and that it was too focussed on getting Sirius back to really think about what I was doing. That I got really lucky, and wouldn't have been able to do it alone. But I really thought that the only one I was putting at risk was myself. I know that my life is already risky enough, and believe me that I detest the idea that Ron or you are in danger simply because you are my friends. The thought tears me apart. But I won't put the two of you at risk just to achieve whatever I want. I care about my friends, I don't go around risking your lives. I'm really sorry that I locked you in the closet, Hermione. Really."

Hermione sighed deeply. "I do know that, Harry. And we've had disagreements before about whether or not to do certain things. I know that I go on yours and Ron's nerves just because I don't take rule breaking as lightly as you sometimes do. But what will happen the next time we have such a disagreement? Can you guarantee me that the next time you won't do the same if you don't see another way? Everything that brought you or us together into danger over the past years seemed very important at that point of time. And in the end we mostly realised that there would have been other ways to deal with it."

Harry swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "This was different."

"Explain to me why, because I don't understand it, Harry."

Harry didn't entirely trust his voice, so he drew a couple of deep breaths before he continued. Nevertheless, his voice was quivering slightly. "This was about Sirius. I don't know if you understand it, Hermione, if you are able to understand what he means to me."

"I do understand what Sirius means to you, but…"

"No, you don't understand. You can't. You've had a family for all your life, you're lucky that you can't understand what it's like not to have one. To have absolutely nobody who cares. Shall I tell you how it is? Not great, not great at all. But it's bearable as long as there is no alternative. What isn't bearable is to have the promise of someone who cares in front of you all of a sudden, only to have that chance torn from you time and again, and finally for good! I needed him back, Hermione, and this time it wasn't to stop Voldemort, or to help the wizarding world, or for the greater good of mankind or whatever else people seemingly expect from me. It was for me. I needed him back to have a reason why I shall continue to be a pawn in other people's games. I needed him back to finally have what most other people have had most of their lives – someone who cares. A family. That was why I didn't care whether I was risking my own life or not. That is why I would do it again, if there was only the remote chance to save Sirius by risking my life. And if I need Ron's or your help for that, and you are willing to help, then I would be stupid not to accept it. But while I would risk my own life at any time for Sirius, I would never, never ever, put your or Ron's life at stake for something I want. I'd never use any of you that way. I will always accept your help, even if it's for something that ends up in rule breaking. But I'd never risk your life, or Ron's life. The two of you mean too much to me. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings with what I did, I really am. If I could change one thing about what happened that night, that would be it."

Before Hermione had the chance to answer, Harry got up from his armchair, brushed past the group of third years who were pretending to be extremely interested in their homework, and hurried up the stairs to the boy's dormitories. The room was empty, which meant that his dorm-mates still had to be in the library to finish their homework, and Harry was glad about it. He flung himself down on his bed with a sigh and rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

After a few moments, there was a hesitant knock on the door, and as Harry gave no reply, the door opened.

"Harry?"

Harry didn't answer, but he also didn't tell her to leave. He guessed he could have, after all this was his dormitory and not hers, but he had the feeling that it would be futile to argue with her right now. He was sick and tired of arguing with Hermione.

"Harry?", Hermione asked again, and her face and mane of bushy brown hair appeared in Harry's line of vision. Harry sat up on the bed, but didn't look at her directly. After a moment, he felt the mattress sag slightly as Hermione sat down on the foot-end of the bed.

"I don't want to stay angry with Ron, or with you," she finally said. "Especially not now. It's just…probably I thought you were taking risks where you didn't need to. You're right that I didn't understand exactly why you did what you did. I didn't see how much you have grown up."

Harry raised an astonished eyebrow, but Hermione just shrugged. "I've been your friend for nearly five years now, and I thought I knew you. But I've just not seen that you've developed quite a bit from the boy you were back then. As have the reasons for why you do the things you do. You are right, I cannot understand what it is like not to have a family, and that I cannot completely understand what Sirius means to you. But though you didn't have a real family for the most part of your life, that doesn't mean you were alone. You've had us. You have us. It's not a substitute for a family, but it's more than a lot of other people have."

Harry nodded. "I never wanted to belittle what your friendship means to me. I haven't had friends for the most part of my life, I know what I have in you. But you said it yourself. As much as I care about your and Ron's friendship, it is no substitute for a family. The Weasleys are no substitute for a family of my own. Sirius might have come late into my life, but he is my family now. I need him in my life, I can't lose him again."

There were tears in Hermione's eyes. "I just think that I can't stand the thought that the world around us is also revolving. This is no longer solving puzzles to get to the Philosopher's Stone. This is about lives. It has all become so real over the past months. Every morning when I open up the paper I'm worried what I might find, what You-…what Voldemort has done now. Whose lives he has destroyed. You're in so much danger by him already, I just don't want you to risk your life even more."

Harry smiled and squeezed Hermione's shoulder. "I'll do my best not to. But I have the feeling that if this shit continues to go on like that, I won't have all that much choice."

Hermione stared down at her hands. "I know. And that's what worries me."

Harry thought for a moment, then he smiled and pulled Hermione close. "For now, I don't plan on worrying about anything but the Quidditch tryouts. Which makes me twice as glad that you're talking to me again, because I'll need all the help I can get to keep Ron from going mad about them."

They released each other and got up from the bed. "And now we'd better get down before Dean or Seamus come back and find the two of us alone up here, hugging on my bed. We'd never hear the end of that one, believe me."

Hermione smiled. "And you still have your Transfiguration essay to finish, right?"

Harry sighed deeply. "There is of course that, right. Thank you ever so much for reminding me."

Hermione stepped out of the dormitory and waited until Harry had closed the door. "Well, I could…you know, take a quick look at it. I won't write it for you, mind you, but I can help."
"Hermione, what would I do without you?"

"Fail a couple of classes, probably." She shrugged. "I still haven't given up on Ron and you, you know? There are N.E.W.T.s coming up next year, I could not let you down now. But you need to try and keep up with your work now if you don't want your N.E.W.T.s to blow up in your face next year. So let's take a look at how far you've come with your essay."

She strode down the stairs with an air of purposefulness and Harry followed, his steps a lot lighter than they had been earlier.