Chapter 21

Sirius sat cross-legged and hovered a few inches above the floor. He'd initially intended this exercise to be a joke when he showed it to Dumbledore, but the older wizard had been impressed and told him it was ideal for the type of magic that he planned on teaching him. Dumbledore had warned him that his magical instruction would be grueling, and it definitely had been. It wasn't the physical exhaustion that did Sirius in, but the absolute mental stress, so much so that sometimes Sirius was certain his brain was sweating inside his skull.

Dumbledore had instructed him in what he referred to as instinctive magic—no spells, no charms, but rather allowing magic to course through oneself and manifest in whatever way seemed appropriate to the situation. Dumbledore had warned him that it was not only incredibly dangerous and could result in him literally losing his mind, but also that this particular type of magic was not strictly ministry-approved. Sirius hadn't particularly cared about the legality issue, and he was more than willing to take whatever risk to himself if mastering this type of magic meant that he would be more able to keep Harry safe.

Practicing instinctive magic required more intense concentration and mental agility than Sirius would have believed himself capable of, and this hovering exercise helped him keep himself sharp. While hovering, he walled off part of his mind and completely cleared it of all thought while the remainder of his mental faculties kept himself afloat, so to speak. Additionally, he would perform a physical exercise, such as juggling or bouncing a ball against a wall and catching it.

On this particular afternoon, Sirius found it difficult to clear his mind because of the extremely curt letter he'd received from his godson. He finally gave it up as a bad job and lowered himself to the floor. He picked up the letter and reread it.

"Sirius and Cat," it began starkly, "I'm in Gryffindor, and so are Ron and Neville. Draco's in Slytherin. I'm going to bed now. Harry."

The brevity of this note seemed almost rude considering Harry's usual nature, which was normally very open and sweet. Sirius hoped that Cat was right in her assertion that Harry had probably just been very tired and that he would write in more detail once he'd settled into a routine at Hogwarts. He couldn't help but worry, though, and he'd just decided to pay Severus a visit to see if he had any insight when there was a knock at his door.

"Frank's back," Augusta told him when he opened the door. "We need to meet. He wants to get the entire Order together. I don't know if I've ever seen him this angry before."

"What's going on?" Sirius asked.

"I couldn't get much out of him, but he called Fudge a blustering, blundering, buffoon and said he was going to get us all killed. He also used several choice words that I'm not going to repeat."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "That bad, huh? Where are we meeting?"

"Here, in the ball room. Alice and I have sent owls to the other Order members asking them to arrive in two hours if they're able. Classes will be done for the day by then, so Hogwarts should be able to spare a few of its professors for an hour or two."

Sirius nodded and scratched his chin. He should really shave before the meeting. "It'll be kind of strange having all of us there at the meeting, won't it?" For the past ten years, they'd traded off kid duty during Order meetings.

Augusta smiled knowingly. "I miss them, too," she said. "I hope they're having a good time at Hogwarts. Did you get a letter from Harry yet?"

Sirius passed her the note. "If you can call it that."

Augusta read it. "That's not much to go on! Neville's was nearly two pages. He described the Great Hall as if we'd never seen it before! He seems so proud to be in Gryffindor!"

"That's great. I'm glad for him. For both of them."

Augusta had been standing in the doorway, but now she entered the room and sat in an armchair near the window. "I think Harry's a bit put out with you."

Sirius frowned. "What makes you say that?"

She sighed. "You treated him like a child when you refused to tell him about the night Lily and James died."

Sirius blinked at her. "He is a child."

"Of course he is," Augusta said in a soothing tone. "But, think back to when you were 11, going off to Hogwarts. Did you feel like a child?"

Memories flooded Sirius' brain. Getting his wand, boarding the Hogwarts express, the feeling of freedom, like adulthood was just round the corner. A dreamy smile upon his face, he shook his head.

He thought about how he would have felt if his parents had told him he was too young for information. Not that they would have. They'd tried to educate him in dark magic and tales of muggle subjugation practically from birth. He didn't want Harry to grow up too fast, but rather to protect his innocence as long as he possibly could. Suddenly, he felt a wave of anger. "So what do you propose I tell him—that Voldemort was targeting him, and Lily and James died protecting him? That he's a horcrux? Or how about the fact that he's been prophesied to be the person who will kill Voldemort?" His voice had risen, and, although, he wasn't exactly shouting, his tone was hardly conversational.

"Of course not!" Augusta protested. "But the story you've been repeating is a bit simplistic. Harry's old enough to hear about his parents' bravery, the fact that they defied Voldemort, and even that his mother's love cast a shield around him that protected him from the killing curse."

Mulling over what she'd said, he sank down onto his bed and laid back. He felt a lump in his throat and hot tears in his eyes. Even after all this time, he felt a queasy sense of guilt threaten to overtake him. If only he'd been secret-keeper. If only he hadn't suggested Peter."

"Sirius," Augusta said. "It's not your fault. It's not your fault Lily and James are dead."

He rolled over onto his stomach and sobbed into his pillow. A moment later, he felt her sit down on the bed next to him and begin to rub circles on his back. She whispered words of comfort and reassured him that he was a wonderful parent to Harry, that Lily and James would be proud of him and so happy with how well he'd taught Harry over the years.

As Sirius sat up and hugged her, he realized what an important figure Augusta had become to him. She'd mothered him for longer than James' mom had, and every bit as well, not to mention far better and longer than his own mother. "Thanks," he said sheepishly. "You must think me an idiot for blubbering on this way."

"Of course not." She looked into his eyes with the kindest expression. "You've been through a lot, and you hardly gave yourself time to grieve. It's only natural to miss Lily and James."

"When Harry comes home for Christmas, will you help me talk to him?"

"I doubt you'll need my help, but if you do, then gladly." They were sitting side by side, and she had her arm around him. She gave his shoulder a squeeze before getting up and walking to the doorway. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Augusta," he said, and she turned back to look at him again. He felt a catch in his throat, and he swallowed. "Thanks. I don't think I could have made it through these years without you, Frank, and Alice."

She smiled at him. "It really is our pleasure, you know."

A few hours later, Sirius was showered, shaved, and composed as he swaggered into to ballroom for the Order meeting. There were a few people already there, and Sirius greeted them. Over the years, the Order had grown quite a lot, and it could count several hundred members at this point. They were rarely all ever able to meet at the same time, but the members who were present for meetings kept the absent members abreast of happenings and decisions. With this meeting being called so abruptly, Sirius doubted that attendance would amount to much.

Arthur and Molly Weasley were sitting in a corner arguing with Kingsley, and Sirius made his way over to them. "Fudge bungled the meeting, no doubt, yes, but the rumor is that Frank just quit," Arthur said. "Tell me it's not true!"

Kingsley shook his head. "It's true, all right. He handed in his resignation immediately after Fudge ended the meeting with Belenko, although he did stay to escort Fudge back to our ministry."

Sirius was just considering what he'd heard when another conversation caught his attention. Bill Weasley, the youngest Order member, was looking at the front page of The Evening Prophet with Andromeda and Ted Tonks. "The Prophet's got to be exaggerating," he overheard Ted saying. "Even Fudge isn't that stupid."

Sirius asked to see the paper, and Bill handed it over. The headline read, "Minister Fudge Insults Ukrainian Minister of Magic". Sirius skimmed the article quickly to glean the important information, which was basically that Fudge had offered help to the Ukrainian Minister Belenko in such a way that the man couldn't possibly accept it—namely, that he had implied that the Ukrainian aurors didn't have the strength to arrest Dolohov on their own, and that British aurors would get the job done if permitted. Sirius groaned.

Frank entered the room a few minutes later to a barrage of questions. He held up his hands for silence. "Thanks for coming, everyone. Especially on such short notice. Since I called the meeting, I'd like to open it up by telling you the reason why, and then if anyone else has news or suggestions, you can speak as well. Is that all right?"

There was a general nodding and murmuring of assent. "As some of you already know, Dolohov is in the Ukraine and he most likely has the Philosopher's Stone. He's the number one suspect in the murders of Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, and he's a British citizen. I went with Minister Fudge to meet with the Ukrainian Minister of Magic Belenko to work out terms in which British aurors could work with Ukrainian aurors to capture Dolohov and bring him back to Britain for trial and eventual incarceration in Azkaban." Frank paused and took a deep breath. "At least, that is what I thought we were doing. After initial pleasantries were exchanged, Fudge said, and I quote, 'If your aurors aren't up to the task of catching Dolohov, I could be persuaded to bring in British aurors to do the job.' Naturally, Belenko was insulted, and he said something about Dolohov being a British citizen, to which Fudge emphasized his Ukrainian heritage in a manner that suggested that his having Ukrainian parentage was somehow responsible for his murderous actions." There was a collective intake of breath at the rudeness of their minister. Frank cocked his head to the side and nodded. "Fudge then said again that if he felt his aurors lacked the strength—that's how he put it!—lacked the strength to bring Dolohov in, then British aurors would be willing to help."

Frank took a sip of water. "Of course, there was no way for Belenko to accept our help after such an insult. He invited Fudge to leave his country as quickly as possible and told him when they caught Dolohov, they would deal with him on their own and not to expect him to be extradited to Britain."

"Before we left, I tried to reason with Fudge. I tried to get him to apologize and ask Belenko's permission for our aurors to work with them, but he wouldn't hear me. He told me that Dolohov was their problem, not ours, and I should tow the party line or find another job." Frank shook his head slowly from side to side. "So I quit. I told him I'd see him back to the ministry, clear out my desk, and be done. He didn't even try to talk me out of it."

Frank sighed. "I don't think I have to remind any of you of the danger that someone like Dolohov poses, especially if he does have the Philosopher's Stone. Which is why I'm going to the Wizengamot to propose a vote of no confidence in Fudge. He has to be removed."