You are all incredible, truly.
I apologize in advance if this next installment is not well edited. Basically I went on a science bender this week and sometimes that makes my creative brain a little wonky for a few days. Turns out that can happen even when I'm not in working the lab haha...
So, here's a little bit of resolution. Enjoy ;)
-Cat
Chapter 29
Condemn/Absolve
November 27, 1985
"Do you believe in monsters?"
Placidus looked up from his work in surprise. His guest rarely spoke, and even then, only to answer questions about the weather or what he would like to eat. John was a mystery. He was helpful, but went from task to task like a ghost. He was silent in a way that went beyond being reserved. Placidus had encountered enough troubled souls to know when a person undergoing great suffering was placed into his hands. From that first day in the graveyard, John's scars were visible. They were everywhere, his face, his hands, beneath the collar of his shirt. But somehow, Placidus knew it was the invisible scars that were causing his guest's paralyzing silence.
Placidus considered his answer, knowing that John would wait. They were in the graveyard again, clearing the last detritus of dead leaves before the first snowfall. John avoided his friends' resting place, but Placidus could not help but glance in the direction of the grave. James and Lily Potter. He was new to St. Jerome's church, but the story was often told. James and Lily Potter were found dead in their home. Murdered. And their little boy had disappeared without a trace.
Thus, he had his answer.
"I think that you know more about monsters than I, John."
John looked at him sharply. He seemed ill today. His face was especially gaunt, the hollows of his eyes and cheeks like ashen smudges in his pale complexion. But… but for the first time, Placidus saw past the exhaustion and apathy. Something flickered deep in his strange, amber-colored eyes.
"I'd like to know what you think."
Placidus smiled disarmingly and went back to his raking. And told the truth.
"Yes. I believe in monsters."
"You do?"
"I'm a priest."
"You condemn them, then." John sounded odd.
Placidus sighed and leaned on his rake to look at his melancholy companion. "No, John," he said gently. "That is not my job. But I do believe there are intelligent things in this world besides humans. Invisible things. Some bad, some good. But goodness overcomes, in the end. It is my belief that it already has. Sometimes, yes, people can be monsters. But that's not all they are."
John was very still.
Placidus wondered, not for the first time, whether John knew what had happened to the Potter boy. He had never asked John where he had come from. Where he was going. Whether John was his real name. He only knew that he had found someone very lost in his churchyard the day after Halloween.
"What, exactly, are we talking about?" Placidus ventured.
But John did not seem to hear him. He was staring at the headstone of James and Lily Potter. His right hand was slack at his side. The left on the cane Placidus had found for him.
"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death," he whispered to himself.
"John?"
John blinked and looked back at him.
"I'm leaving today."
"Where are you going?" asked Placidus, alarmed.
"Anywhere. Away. I just… I have to go. I never meant to stay this long."
"At least let me pack you something for the road. You have nothing."
"I… thank you," said John. His expression flickered. "You've been very kind to me. There's nothing I can do to repay you."
"I don't do this for payment. I do it for a friend."
John open and closed his mouth several times. Finally, he said, "James used to say that."
It was the first time Placidus had ever heard him say his name.
"He sounds like a good friend."
"He was," whispered John. "I didn't deserve him."
"It's the friends we don't deserve that are the greatest, isn't it? The ones that argue the opposite despite it all."
"He did," said John with a wistful look. "He believed that thing you said earlier too. The thing about people and monsters. It's not all we are."
And what do you believe? Placidus wanted to ask John. But the moment passed. John exhaled slowly, then began to limp towards the rectory. A cold wind blew ragged brown leaves across the pavement beyond the fence line, making a shushing sound beneath the rumble of the cars. The sky was stripped with shroud-like clouds and blue. The moon would be very bright come nightfall.
June 28, 1986
Sirius slumped against the door in the dark foyer. He smelled like sweat and smoke. His throat was raw from inhaling ash and shouting. He needed a shower and sleep. But he kept seeing the tear tracks on Remus' impenetrable face.
"You're back."
Sirius started. Remus was just through the foyer in the living room, visible as a silhouette against the tall windows. There was no moon outside.
With a long exhale, Sirius bit back his automatic response, "You're still here." Instead he lit the lamps, embarrassed by his relief. Remus' face was reflected back at him, wiped clean of soot and tears. His eyes skittered away from any contact.
"The other locations?"
"Minimal damages," said Sirius. "Most of the aurors came here with their reports. Frightened muggles, frightened witches and wizards. Obliviators were dispatched everywhere. We'll know more in the morning."
"The wizarding world will be a different place in the morning."
Sirius nodded in agreement.
"I made tea. Mint and chamomile."
It was a ritual of theirs, started post-graduation when they'd shared a flat. Even then, they would fight. Small or big, there would be tea that night. Something herbal and soothing. The tea never meant reconciliation exactly. Only that they could go to sleep with the knowledge that morning would come.
The kitchen lights were dimmed and the cups were already poured. Remus wordlessly set a piece of chocolate in front of him, which he ate. The cold sickness in his stomach from the dementors vanished. They sipped in silence, nursing private thoughts. Sirius finished first and used the kitchen sink to wash the last sting of smoke from his eyes.
"We're a fucking tragedy," he said as Remus approached with his empty teacup.
"Yeah," sighed Remus. The corner of his mouth lifted dryly. "Yeah, we are. So where do we go from here?"
Sirius shrugged.
"Harry is still at the Weasleys," Remus said. "We should…"
"Yeah. But it's… almost two. We can get him later in the morning."
Remus nodded, but stayed where he was.
"What?"
"I need to go somewhere. I have a friend in Godric's Hollow. Scrimgeour mentioned a Dark Mark cast there."
"You want to check on him."
Remus nodded.
"Tonight?"
"Yes. I won't sleep anyway."
"Okay."
"Come with me."
"...Okay."
They arrived in the woods outside of the village. A symphony of crickets surrounded them and it smelled of living, growing things. Through the trees and over trimmed yards, the homes were lit with the inviting glow of street lanterns, though the windows were dark. The obliviators must have already come, and the muggles slept peacefully in their beds. Tomorrow they would wake with a vague sense of bad dreams not worth examining.
Sirius felt slightly separate from his body as they approached a street and stepped onto the path. This was not the Godric's Hollow he remembered. Remus was taking them a winding way on the side of the village opposite from where James and Lily had lived. The one in his memory was cold, scattered with dead leaves, horror caught in its throat…
"Did you come here that night?"
Remus' question was quiet.
"Yes."
The images clamored for attention, dark and looming. Mostly the eyes of his dead friends. Vacant, staring. Why couldn't he capture anything else quite so clearly? Had Azkaban drained him of all the happy times they'd had in this town?
"Hagrid was already there. He was trying to soothe Harry."
"Hagrid?"
"Yes, he delivered him to the Dursleys."
Remus grimaced at the mention of Lily's sister and her horrid husband. He led them through a back alley and onto a wider road. A square was ahead with an obelisk in the middle, some kind of war memorial. A church steeple rose above the other buildings. Sirius slowed. He knew the square. Somewhere on the other side was Number 7, Founder's Lane. And in the churchyard…
"I straightened his glasses," he whispered.
"What?"
"His glasses were crooked. When I found him. I straightened them."
Remus said nothing, but his hand twitched like he was going to grab Sirius' arm or shoulder. Then didn't. He veered off when they reached the square, keeping close to the buildings. Sirius followed, a hollow feeling in his chest.
They skirted the shops until they reached the church, then plunged into the darkness between the church and a law office. The stained windows arched high above them, rippled and vague in the faint light. A smaller building was built so snug against the back of the church that there was only room for one man to walk between them. A chain link gate closed the gap between them. Remus unlocked it with a quiet whisper and beckoned Sirius to follow. About halfway through the narrow space, Remus stopped.
A window broke the wall of the smaller building where he stood. A light was filtering through the curtains, casting his face into a strange ethereal glow. He relaxed infinitesimally. Soft murmurs were muffled by the glass. Two voices, as if in conversation, but there was something chant-like about the sound. Remus gestured to go back.
Once they neared the square, he said in a low voice, "He's fine."
"Who stays up this late?" Sirius muttered back. A quick glance at his watch showed that it was 2:07 a.m.
"We're up late. They're up early. It's a prayer. Matins. They say it as the day starts."
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Mental."
"Maybe."
"How do you know him?"
"He found me in the graveyard. He was kind."
The graveyard. Ollivander's voice floated into his ears, "Have you been to the Potters' grave, Mr. Black?"
The answer had not changed. Sirius' gaze was reluctantly dragged to the other side of the church when they entered the square. A wrought iron fence gleamed in the lamplight. Beyond were shadows of stones and crosses beneath a dark canopy of thick-trunked trees. His steps slowed.
"When was that?" he heard himself ask.
"After I escaped the mirror. November."
Sirius paused completely. Over the trees, the moon was rising, a waning semicircle.
"You never came back, did you?" said Remus.
"I was in Azkaban."
Remus hesitated and Sirius could almost hear the echoes of their argument.
"No," Remus murmured. "I mean. After. You've never been to their grave."
Sirius shook his head. He could feel Remus' eyes on him, but he refused to look. Unbidden came the imprint left by the Mirror of Erised. James and Lily standing by his side instead of under the earth. Like nothing happened. Sirius was suddenly desperate to keep it that way, but, after a low exhale, Remus put a delicate hand on his shoulder.
"Come on," he said. He didn't ask why Sirius had never gone. Only steered him in the right direction. Sirius felt like they were walking through water. The kissing gate did not seem to be getting any closer, then suddenly they were standing right there. It was locked, but Remus produced a key from the pocket of his cloak.
"Where did you get that?"
Again, Sirius felt like he was hearing his voice coming from another room, muffled and distant.
"I told you, he was kind. He let me stay, get back on my feet. I worked the grounds a little in return."
The gate swung open on oiled hinges and they entered the darker shade of the trees. Remus went first, walking slowly and deliberating between headstones. Sirius watched his friend's back instead of their surroundings. His hair was catching moments of starlight, highlighting the increase in silver amongst the brown. Then, all too soon, Remus halted.
"They're here."
He sounded strange. He stepped aside and Sirius saw a bouquet of pale flowers first. Lamb's ear, wild daisy, and something blue Sirius had seen growing in the fields around the Burrow. His eyes travelled up to their names.
Absurdly, the first thought that came into his head was that the script did not match their handwriting. James Potter should be written in a messy, careless way, like he had someplace he needed to go. Someone had once tried to tame his hand to flowing cursive, but the loops on the J and P were always spiked and awkward. And Lily. Lily's signature had been a minimalist beauty. No extra frills but elegant in its simplicity. Lily Potter.
He remembered her practicing it before they were married.
He remembered the dust in her glassy eyes.
"Hi, I'm James!"
The reality of what was buried six feet below the solemn stone hit him like a kick in the chest. This was why he never came here. It was too physical, too potent. The dementors did not allow this wound to heal. They picked on it over and over again, fed on it until it festered. His grief was still too raw, even years later, when his friends' bodies were nothing but bones. He forced himself to speak.
"Was it hard? Seeing this every day?"
"Yes. But it helped, I think. After… after the Mirror. I don't know why."
Sirius looked to the quote written beneath their names. "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death."
"I don't understand what that means," he said hoarsely.
"I never figured it out," Remus murmured.
He knelt down, using his cane to lower himself to his knees. He gently straightened the lone bouquet, then pulled out Lily's wand. His hands were steady, even as he waved it over her grave and conjured a single seashell. Pure white and spiraled, the kind with the ocean inside. The kind Remus' mother used to put on windowsills. There was something about the gesture that comforted Sirius. He bent to help his old friend stand.
"I need a new wand," the werewolf said faintly. He shuffled his feet on the ground, then threw his head back to look at the stars. "The first time I came here-after the funerals-was the next Halloween. After… I went straight to the Hog's Head and got drunk as quickly as I could."
Sirius listened, aware of the ground beneath his feet, of the stone marker, of Remus' bony shoulder against his.
"I had a letter from you. You never sent it, but I found it in your old things. James had written in it too." He laughed softly, a small puff of breath. "God, I miss James. He would have been able to get us through this without making an even bigger mess of things." He paused again. "That was the night that I decided I would never see you again."
Sirius looked at his profile. Wordless.
"You tortured me." A wry heaviness twisted his mouth. Not a smile, but an ironic grimace. "Every thought of you, every memory tortured me. I just… I could handle the grief but betrayal? Every day wondering why… You're right. What you said earlier. I should have known. I should have gone to Azkaban. But I was barely surviving. I thought that if… if I looked you in the eye and saw… I think it would have killed me. So I never went. And that night, I decided I never would." He ran scarred fingers through his hair. "I was a coward."
Sirius finally unstuck his throat. "You're not-"
"I am." Firm. Then release, a sigh and a soft, "Or used to be. I don't really know what to call myself anymore."
"Moony…"
"I escaped the Mirror. Then I ran away." Remus refused eye contact, instead staring just past James and Lily's grave, into the leaden windows of the church. "I stayed here long enough to heal, to check on Harry, and then I fled. I couldn't handle it, I needed out, I needed-"
He stopped. Restarted.
"I should have been there for you. For Harry."
Sirius said what he could. "You came back."
Remus twitched.
"I came back." He finally turned his head and met Sirius' eyes with his shadowed ones. "So did you. I once thought that was impossible."
"Same."
A breeze rustled through the trees. Somewhere, an owl hooted.
"I'm sorry, Padfoot. I'm sorry for doubting you. For running."
"You couldn't have known."
"Doesn't matter. I broke a promise."
We solemnly swear that we will be bound as brothers…
"I broke it first."
Finally, finally, he had said it. For the first time since his trial, the words made it past his lips. That day in the judicial chambers was a blur seen through a dementor's shroud. When the Minister had declared him innocent, only one thing was clear and ringing throughout his entire being. "I told them to switch."
His innocence dissolved. His anchor in Azkaban became the one thing he could not seem to atone for.
Sirius did not know how to express this to Remus.
He tried anyway.
"You shouldn't be angry at him," he started. Seconds after Remus flicked an eyebrow upward in confusion, Sirius realized he had started at the end. "I mean James," he amended. "It was all me. I told them to switch, I told them to do it in secret. When I explained why, he almost hit me. Lily was going to kick me out of the house. So I… I used Harry. Keeping him safe… I was just… God, Remus, I was so afraid."
Remus swallowed and moved away. The place where their shoulders had been touching felt cold even in the summer night. Sirius listened to Remus' limping footsteps in the grass. They stopped somewhere behind him.
"It was what Greyback said, wasn't it?" Remus asked after several minutes. "'The Dark Lord is his only salvation now.' Even back then… it seemed to be true."
When Sirius turned, Remus had his back against an old tree. His head leaned against the trunk to stare through the branches. Sirius waited until he met his eyes.
"Yes."
"My secret missions to the werewolves."
"And those."
"It was not that I didn't trust you," Remus said. "Maybe Dumbledore was worried about a spy, but it wasn't that. If it had stopped with just… convincing them not to join Voldemort I would have told you, but it didn't. I was after Greyback and for that… I needed to go deep."
"Why would that matter?"
"It mattered because I was trying to become everything you and James believed I wasn't. I should have told you, but… it felt like a betrayal. Of a kind."
"Of a kind," Sirius repeated in a whisper. "I never wanted it to be you. Never you. It broke my heart."
Remus inhaled sharply and looked down. "I know how that feels," he whispered.
They stayed like that, quiet as an exhale beneath the spreading branches. Sirius had a vague feeling of poison slowly draining away and seeping into the ground to be repurposed by microscopic things and roots. The same roots that cradled the dead. For some reason, he suddenly remembered how James used to push his glasses up his nose unnecessarily when he was frustrated.
"Prongs would say that we're both idiots."
A smile slowly crept across Remus' face. Not big, but genuine. "I'm glad he's right this time."
Sirius chuckled wistfully. He turned one more time to the grave. The seashell seemed to glow on the dark grass beneath their headstone. Footsteps in the grass, then Remus was next to him again. Sirius grabbed his cold hand.
"Forgive me, Remus. I should never have thought less of you."
The cold fingers contracted in answer.
"Come on," said Remus softly. "Let's go home."
In total, twenty-eight Dark Mark had appeared over Britain. The fallout began quickly. Owls poured into the cottage kitchen at daybreak, bearing missives from the Ministry, from the Auror department, and from Dumbledore. The Order meeting that had been scheduled for the previous night was now moved to tomorrow.
When Sirius collected Harry from the Burrow, he caught sight of Arthur's Daily Prophet. The front page was a tiled array of black and white ink capturing the nighttime horrors. A second copy awaited him on his breakfast table when he returned.
"What is that?" asked Harry curiously.
Sirius swept it up quickly and tucked it into a drawer. "Nothing." Remus glanced at him with raised eyebrows from where he was leaning against the counter with a cup of tea. Sirius amended, "Nothing you need to worry about. Just some people stirring up trouble."
"Is that why you had to leave last night?" Harry persisted. "Is that what the silver cat was talking about?"
Sirius sighed. Remus' silent communication was right of course. Keeping this from Harry would only make things worse. He could learn it from the twins instead. Sirius went to where Harry was standing and crouched down to his level.
"It's called the Dark Mark," he explained in an even voice. "Bad wizards put in the sky to scare people."
"Are you afraid of it?"
Remus shifted slightly.
"I'm afraid of what it means," Sirius finally answered.
"What does it mean?"
This was where Sirius' ability to tell a child the truth sputtered out. But Remus cut in with a soft, but firm voice.
"When you're older, we'll tell you everything. But not today."
Harry considered this proposal with a serious expression. Then, he nodded in acceptance, and said, "Can I play outside?"
Sirius almost wanted to say no. But his relief that Harry could maintain his innocence a little longer overcame it. "Of course."
"I'll watch him closely," Remus assured him as Harry went to get his shoes.
"I know," said Sirius. He helped Harry tie his shoes, then they went out onto the porch while Harry ran out into the grass. He busied himself with whatever imaginary games five-year-olds play by themselves. Remus was scanning the borders of the property, a small line of concern in his forehead. None of the aurors patrolling the borders had recognized the reclusive werewolf. None had even questioned Sirius about his new visitor. They were told to be discreet and keep their distance, so they did. But Remus still kept close to the cottage just in case.
Sirius checked his watch. It was nearly time for him to go to work, but Harry's question stalled him. What did the Dark Marks mean? Was it a warning? Or worse… an announcement.
"I have to go back inside the Mirror."
There was a heavy silence, then-
"I think I misheard you."
"You didn't."
"Sirius, no."
"Sirius, yes."
"This isn't funny."
Remus had gone the color of milk. Sirius sobered and explained gently, "We can't put it off any longer. After last night, we have to know more. I want to do a thorough search, check upstairs and the surrounding shops in the Mirror-world. I don't want to wake up tomorrow and find Voldemort has been resurrected and have know idea how."
"You should never have gone inside in the first place," Remus said.
"Well, I did. And I'm not sorry about it either."
"Padfoot-"
"I needed to know."
Remus said nothing
"It doesn't affect me as much," Sirius tried to reassure him. "I know what I'm doing. We should never have waited this long to go back in the first place."
"Take Mad-Eye with you."
"That's the plan."
Remus picked at a splinter on the porch railing. Then said quietly, "I'm going to go back to the forest pack tonight."
After a long breath, Sirius said, "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay. Pyrites is still using Greyback. If we can get information that way, I say do it."
"Sirius! Remus! Look what I found!"
Harry was running towards them, his face aglow with excitement. The adults followed with amused smiles. The five-year-old scurried to the edge of the tall grass, where he slowed down to a cautious tread. About a foot into the field, he crouched and pointed. Sirius leaned closer. A small hole in the ground was surrounded by grasses interwoven with downy fur. Inside, he could just make out a litter of baby rabbits curled together.
"Cute," he summarized.
"Don't get too close Harry," said Remus softly. "Their mum is probably nearby and could smell you. She would be afraid for them."
"I wouldn't hurt them," Harry answered. "I made sure they're safe."
"How's that?" Sirius asked, amused.
"The snake told me where they were, but I made him promise that he wouldn't eat them."
"The… snake told you," Sirius repeated. In his peripherals, Remus had gone taut as a wire.
"I don't think the bunnies can talk," Harry explained.
"Well they are just babies," Sirius pointed out absently as he scanned the grass. "And where's the snake?"
Harry gestured to a place uncomfortably close to Sirius' feet. Sirius took a hasty three steps backwards. Remus actually snorted quietly. He'd relaxed completely now, which Sirius resented.
"Entertained?" he groused.
"For Merlin's sake Padfoot, it's just a common grass snake."
Sirius peered down from his safe distance. A slender and scaley head rose from the grass and gave him a snub-nosed glare.
"He says you're scaring the lizards and mice away with your big feet," Harry giggled.
Sirius chuckled nervously. "Right." He turned to Remus. "I'm leaving this one to you. I'm late for work."
"Liar," said Remus mildly. He leaned down to Harry and whispered loud enough to hear, "He has a deeply ingrained aversion to snakes."
"Hey! You didn't find it so funny when you thought the snake was by you!"
The sound of Harry and Remus' combined laughter followed him to the house.
Later, Sirius walked down the sparsely populated streets of Diagon Alley. Not many people would be out today. The appearance of the old terrors in the night kept them inside their homes. The sky was overcast with thin clouds. His eyes itched and he felt vaguely buzzed from a second cup of coffee he'd downed to conceal the lost sleep from the night before. The only side effect was an added jitteriness to his gait as he turned down Knockturn Alley.
"Black."
Mad-Eye melted suddenly from the shadows to stump alongside him. Sirius nodded at him.
"Smart of you to stay out of the office. The paperwork after last night is a nightmare. And the panic sightings have ramped up again."
"Figures."
"Scrimgeour has a group focusing on how the dementors got to Ottery St. Catchpole, but I doubt they'll be able to find anything."
"We already knew they were going rogue."
"We knew they were taking liberties, not that they had abandoned Azkaban altogether or the surrounding area. Another task force is on its way there now. You okay?"
"I'm fine. It was just a shock."
"You had chocolate?"
"Remus made sure of it."
Mad-Eye grunted. After a few moments, he ventured lowly, "That was quite the shouting match yesterday."
Sirius glanced sideways at the auror, but both of his eyes were fixed forwards. Well, the beady black one was. The blue one was narrowed on a man muttering in an alcove ahead.
"We talked."
"Good. You're useless when you're distracted."
Sirius' lips curved upwards. He allowed Mad-Eye to take the lead, stumping the rest of the way to Borgin and Burke's. The shop windows were dark. Sirius thought he saw Mr. Lagorio's insect-like shape prowling in the apothecary across the street. Rudy Williamson met them on the path, dressed like a homeless man but still rather conspicuous with his clean, curly hair.
"You were on guard here last night?" Mad-Eye questioned.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Yeah, me and er…" He scratched the back of his head and knit his eyebrows, "-well, until the Marks started appearing, then just me." He gave a wide yawn.
Mad-Eye glared at him critically. "You have the key?"
"Yeah, hold on…"
The door to the shop was now heavily padlocked. Ever since Sirius had stumbled upon Remus' efficient dispatchment of the auror guards, Scrimgeour had enforced a pick-proof-lock on the door. Alohomora would not work and only the aurors had the key. Rudy dug a heavy iron key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock. After some jiggling and muttering to himself, there was a loud click and the chains fell away.
"There we are," he announced cheerfully.
Mad-Eye and Sirius pushed past him and went inside. The gloomy interior was impenetrably dark after the cloud-glare outside. Sirius blinked rapidly to get his eyes to adjust, but not quick enough to avoid running into Mad-Eye's solid back. The auror's magic eye needed no adjustment and he had stopped abruptly.
"Mad-Eye what-"
But now Sirius saw too. Above the charred fireplace was a stretch of blank, dirty wall. Sun stains revealed a rectangular block where something large had hung for a long time.
The Mirror of Iunne was gone.
June 29, 1986
Remus rubbed his eyes and pinched himself for the fifth time. The bed of decaying leaves beneath the honeysuckle bushes was becoming very comfortable. He'd been lying here for almost five hours, watching the silent barn that stood darkly against the stars.
It was unusual for the werewolves to be so quiet through the night. They had hardly left their shelters and not a single argument rose above the crickets and other nighttime creatures. But their stillness was anything but peaceful. It was like every thread of energy in the barn had been pulled taut. Remus had no doubt that Greyback was inside.
The entire waking world seemed to be holding its breath. It was now one full day since the Dark Marks bloomed like omens in the sky and the enemy had yet to make a move.
Except to steal a Mirror.
The auror trainee who had been imperized had no memory of what had happened. Only that the others had left to deal with the panic boiling across England. Sirius had visibly tried to restrain his frustration while telling Remus. The poor trainee had been castigated thoroughly by Mad-Eye Moody, a fate Remus wished on no one. Whatever final secrets the Mirror had to offer were lost. The Death Eaters were in the wind. Greyback was now their only lead.
His bones were decidedly stiff, and the stars were slowly being drowned out by pale light. He hated leaving with no new information, but he'd promised Sirius not to stay past daybreak. One by one, he stretched his sore muscles and started to push himself into a hunched position. Then, before he could extricate himself from the tangle of honeysuckle, there was a pop and a rustle in the dead leaves just a few yards from his hiding place.
Remus froze.
Footsteps dragged through the earthy debris, then went into the grassy meadow and paused. Remus held his breath and tilted his head just enough to look through a space in the greenery. A profile was hazily visible against the lightening sky.
His throat convulsed and he could not stop a small sound from escaping.
The man startled violently and peered into the gloom somewhere above Remus' head. Remus stared. Lack of air spun wild patterns in his vision, and shock wreaked even wilder patterns on his mind. The man split into a penciled sketch riven into layers. Rough-toothed paper and unchecked laughter and the patter of spring rain on cracked windows.
"G-Greyback?"
Only birdsong answered Peter Pettigrew. His weak whisper channelled all of Remus' surprise into reckless rage. He pressed his hands against the dirt, preparing to rise.
"Pettigrew. Too much of a coward to come any closer?"
The familiar, gravelly snarl seized Remus' movements. Greyback was wading through the grass from the barn, hulking and solid compared to Peter's hunched shadow.
"H-He says everything is in place. You should be ready. Malfoy will contact you."
"How will we be moving?"
"He'll provide portkeys. You'll need to move quickly."
"Pyrites is ambitious. How can he be certain-"
"It-it's already begun," stammered Peter.
Greyback hesitated.
"Has it?" he murmured lowly. But he did not sound frustrated. Instead, excited anticipation thrummed through the words. A chill trickled down Remus' spine.
"Wait for Malfoy," said Peter.
Sirius and Arthur made their way through the Hogwarts gates and hiked uphill towards the castle. Late afternoon encroached lazily across the grounds with a hum of crickets. Molly had remained behind to watch the kids and Remus offered to help. The two-way mirror was stowed in Sirius' pocket so that they could attend the meeting remotely. He and Arthur walked without talking, each caught in their own memories of the place. It was very quiet with the students gone on holiday. Sirius took in their spot by the lakeside, the Whomping Willow on the hillside, the quidditch pitch in the distance.
When they reached the Entrance Hall, Arthur finally said, "You think they'll be okay?"
"I don't know," Sirius answered honestly, knowing he meant Remus and Molly. After the news Remus brought from the forest pack, Sirius had immediately sent owls to Dumbledore and Mad-Eye. The rest of the day had been filled with nervous tension. Nothing happened. Remus insisted they go to the meeting, but it did not stop Sirius' intestines from randomly rearranging themselves every five minutes.
"They'll be fine," said Arthur then, bracingly, as if he was not the one who asked. He adjusted his sleeves for the fifth time in a row and gestured broadly. "What's it like being back here?"
"Odd. It's not the first time, but I don't think I'll ever get used to it."
"Yeah," agreed Arthur. They mounted one of the moving staircases and climbed as it revolved. "Things were very different then. Easier."
Sirius hummed noncommittally. They stepped off onto the landing, then started up another flight. Things were definitely different. So many people in his year were either dead, in prison, or on the run. And it wasn't over. They came at last to the stone gargoyle that blocked the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
"Chocolate frogs," said Arthur.
The gargoyle leapt out of the way, unveiling the spiral staircase Sirius had trudged up on many occasions. Arthur led the way and Sirius followed. The office door was wide open and people were already gathered inside. A few conversations were floating on a current of agitated energy. Sirius spotted mostly members of the old crowd. Daedalus Diggle, Sturgis Podmore, and Mundungus Fletcher were examining the gold instruments on one of the tables. Emmeline Vance and Arabella Figg were catching up by a tall window, while Elphias Doge and Aberforth Dumbledore shook hands near the door. The Order of the Phoenix was gathered for the first time in five years.
A huge shape moved near Dumbledore's desk. Sirius grinned and waved, surprised he had missed Hagrid in his first sweep. Then his gaze drifted to the other side of the desk and he saw McGonagall speaking to-
"Snivellus!" Sirius said, shocked.
Snape, greasier and sallower than ever before, turned his hooked nose at Sirius' exclamation. He was not the only one. The conversations lulled, then awkwardly resumed when they saw the two rivals glaring at each other. Arthur stood at Sirius' shoulder, looking rapidly between him and Snape.
"Black," Snape sneered. "I can't say this is a pleasure."
"Ah," came a regretful voice from behind Sirius. "I had hoped to waylay this particular reunion."
Dumbledore arrived in a swirl of violet robes. Beneath his silver eyebrows, his eyes were bright and piercing. He raised his wand and made a sweeping motion. A round, glossy table appeared concentric with the circular space. The spindly tables of instruments skittered out of the way to make room for poofy purple chairs.
"Please everyone, take your seats," said Dumbledore. As the Order members did so, Dumbledore continued gravely. "As you all know well, Severus Snape turned against Voldemort before his downfall to act as a spy in his ranks. I myself vouched for him before the Wizengamot and I trust him completely. He has since been in my employ as Potions Master and he will be joining us in the open for the first time. I trust you can work with him, despite past rivalries."
The sharp blue eyes went to Sirius and Snape, who had not moved. Sirius dearly wanted to start something, to vent all the pent up energy from the day, but Dumbledore spoke sternly.
"Sirius. Severus. If you cannot agree to tolerate each other, then I'll respectfully ask you both to leave. You can get the notes from others."
"Headmaster-"
"Albus, I have updates-"
"Which I'm sure Mad-Eye can handle."
At that moment, Mad-Eye Moody entered, his wooden leg thumping against the floor. Snape glared but eventually broke eye contact. Sirius clenched his jaw and took his seat next to Arthur. Snape sat as far away as possible.
"Sirius, the mirror," whispered Arthur.
"Yeah, hold on." He pulled it out and said, "Molly Weasley."
Molly appeared in the mirror. She smiled and waved, then looked significantly off to the side, indicating that Remus was there too. Sirius handed the mirror to Arthur, who set it so that Molly could see everyone.
"School rivalry?" Arthur muttered out of the side of his mouth.
"Something like that."
"Shall we begin?" said Dumbledore, clapping his hands together. He took his seat and a solemn atmosphere descended on the occupants of the whimsical office. "Some of you know the reason I have called you together. The rest of you, if you have been following the latest current events, were likely unsurprised by the invitation. And after last night… I'm pleased we could reschedule."
"Is he back?"
Elphias Doge asked the question, but it was clearly on everyone's mind. They seemed to lean forward in their seats, intent on the Headmaster. Dumbledore folded his hands on the table.
"By 'he' I presume you refer to Lord Voldemort?"
There was a collective intake of breath. A few people flinched.
"Yes," said Elphias.
Dumbledore met Sirius' gaze and answered, "He is." This time, no one reacted physically, but the mood plummeted. A few people looked in Sirius' direction as well. Dumbledore surveyed them somberly. "We do not think he has any corporeal form yet, but we do know that he is in England and there are a group of Death Eaters working to restore him to his full power. The leader of this group is Eurion Pyrites, whose name you have undoubtedly heard by now. We believe him to be responsible for several disappearances during and after the first war."
"Caradoc Dearborn?" asked Sturgis quietly. He glanced at Sirius. "Remus Lupin?"
"We do not know about Caradoc," said Dumbledore. "But yes, we've confirmed that he was involved in Lupin's disappearance. He was also behind the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom."
Several members started muttering angrily.
"The purpose of this meeting is to discuss how we shall proceed given the current situation." Dumbledore gestured to Sirius then and said, "We'll start by ensuring we are all on the same page. Sirius will present his findings since he was released from Azkaban prison, as well as inform everyone how the Auror Department has handled things thus far."
Sirius nodded to Dumbledore, then began.
It was a long, meandering presentation, interrupted by several questions, mostly from Emmeline and Sturgis. He avoided talking about Remus, but it was difficult, as the search for his friend was the thread that connected every piece of evidence he'd unearthed. By the time he was nearing the end, his mouth was very dry.
"What could have been in the Mirror?" asked Daedalus Diggle. "Besides those documents?"
Sirius shrugged. "No idea. My search wasn't very thorough, I could have missed something. Either way, Pyrites wanted it and used their little announcement as a cover."
"Perhaps he wanted to use it," said Elphias darkly. "You said he imprisoned people in there?"
"Yes."
There was silence as the Order members digested everything Sirius had said so far. And he still wasn't finished. He glanced at Dumbledore, who cleared his throat.
"If you're willing, we need everyone to be on alert and ready to move at a moment's notice. Sirius?"
"I have a source. He overheard that they're planning something and it's already started. Fenrir Greyback is involved somehow."
A shudder went through the room.
"Your source?" probed Emmeline. "Was there anything else?"
"Another werewolf," Sirius answered honestly. "And no."
The uncertainty made the level of anxiety in the Headmaster's office spike. Snape shifted, then said in a monotone, "I can confirm. A call has been sent out. The Death Eaters are gathering."
"So what're we doin' here?" Hagrid demanded suddenly from where he stood (none of the chairs could support his weight). "We should be stoppin' them is what we should be doin'!"
"We don't know where they are, Hagrid," said McGonagall.
"I can think of a way to find them," said Sirius, staring at Snape.
"No," said Dumbledore immediately. "Severus' position is delicate and Pyrites has proven unpredictable. I'd rather wait until we know what we're dealing with."
Snape focused his black eyes on Sirius, but said nothing. His expression was inscrutable and he was paler than usual.
"Mad-Eye, any report from the Auror Department?" asked Dumbledore.
"Dark Marks were a messy clean-up, but it fell more to the obliviators and MLE to handle the immediate aftermath," said Mad-Eye gruffly. "Only real damage was in Ottery St. Catchpole and London. Increase of mist up north. Panicked witches and wizards across the country. Otherwise it's been quiet."
He didn't say it, but it was heard through the room anyway. Too quiet. Even the portraits had stopped muttering amongst themselves and sat stiffly in their frames, exchanging dark looks.
"Well," said Daedalus suddenly. His squeaky voice was startling after Mad-Eye's low growl. "Well. I don't speak for everyone, of course, but I think none of us would be here if we weren't willing to sacrifice a little more. I for one am. You can count on me, Dumbledore."
"And me," said Arthur strongly from Sirius' side.
"Me as well," said Sturgis.
A chorus of agreement was rising. Sirius did not feel the need to join, having made his position clear. Eventually, Dumbledore raised a wizened hand.
"You know the stakes. I will not assign any duties or roles for now. We shall see what tomorrow brings."
So the meeting ended. People trickled out one by one. Snape slunk out with a poisonous look at Sirius. Mad-Eye stumped over to have a word with McGonagall, but most conversation was sparse and hushed. Molly's face disappeared from the mirror and Arthur stowed it in his pocket. Sirius could not help but glance in the direction of the chamber behind Dumbledore's desk, wondering if a different mirror still resided in the gloom. It used to be that he and James would stay after and chat… tell jokes to lighten the mood…
"Hold on," he blurted to Arthur, who was moving towards the door. He took one step towards Dumbledore's desk when someone blocked his path.
"I moved it," said a soft voice.
Annoyed that he was caught, Sirius muttered, "I just wanted to see-"
"I know." Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes were all the more penetrating. "Goodnight, Sirius."
"Goodnight," Sirius sighed.
He and Arthur made their way back through the castle and out to the grounds. Long shadows from the Forbidden Forest stretched across the grassy lawn. They descended into the twilight of the tree-lined path and were almost to the castle gates when someone called out, "Black, Weasley, hold up!"
They paused. Mad-Eye was hurrying after them. He grumbled to himself as he caught up and Sirius thought he heard a few curses directed at the wooden leg.
"Need to talk to you about Burke," he grouched when he reached them. He kept walking at his brisk pace, so Sirius and Arthur hurried to keep in step.
"Is it about Remus?" Sirius asked, his stomach plummeting.
"For once, no," said Mad-Eye. "It's about the Dark Marks."
"Where was he stationed?"
"Hogsmeade, only-"
Arthur stopped abruptly. "Wait."
"Arthur?"
He stared over their heads. Sirius turned. A silvery comet streaked across the orange sky and through the black trees to land in front of them. It stayed formless and unsolidified, like a swirling ball of liquid. Incorporeal. But the message still came through in the wavering voice of Molly Weasley.
There was a beat of silence.
Then Sirius was already rushing the gates before the patronus dissolved, ignoring Mad-Eye yelling after him, ignoring Arthur's long strides, ignoring the panicked fury making him light-headed and his chest being ripped in two-
"If it comes to a choice-"
He wasn't ready.
A/N: Oops, did I say resolution?