There was a moment of silence. Harry hesitantly rested a hand on Sirius's shoulder, who flinched but didn't pull away. A feeling of being watched overcame him, and he looked up to see Rysk staring at him, her eyes smoldering.

"Well. I'll try and get in contact with the others, then." As Dumbledore said this he reached out and touched Rysk's arm. She broke eye contact with Harry to look sharply over at him.

"Here, I can--" Black started to get up but Harry forced him back.

"Don't even try to walk; you'll drop dead."

"Harry's right, you need your rest." Dumbledore touched Rysk's arm again as he turned to go. She seemed to hesitate before following after him out the door. "Get some sleep, Sirius. I'll send Poppy up to check on you."

The idea of leaving Sirius wasn't one that sat well with Harry. "Headmaster--please, I can stay with him."

Rysk lingered in the doorway and glanced back at him. "Yeah, sure." She looked to Dumbledore coolly in a manner that almost challenged and didn't quite ask for approval. Dumbledore simply nodded with a faint, reassuring smile at Harry before reaching out and gently closing the door.

"Sirius?" asked Harry softly once they were alone. His godfather didn't look up. "Sirius, what's going on, what happened? You had me worried out of my mind."

"I told you what happened!" snarled Black forcefully. Harry flinched backwards, alarmed. Sirius looked up at him, the flash of anger gone. He stared at the purple bruise blossoming over Harry's cheek. Guilt flickered over his sunken eyes and his head dropped into his hands. "Sorry," he said hoarsely, "sorry."

"S'all right," said Harry a little too cheerfully, trying to hide how hurt he was.

"I got your letter." Sirius rubbed at his forehead and laughed hollowly. "God, I couldn't even answer your letter."

"It's all right," repeated Harry with more conviction, starting to feel self-centered now. "I never knew exactly how...'busy' you were."

This drew a more genuine chuckle out of his godfather. "Yes. Yes, we were busy." His voice trailed off into a harsh whisper. "And I destroyed everything. They put me in charge and I failed them."

"Who?"

Sirius drew a deep breath. "I suppose you have a right to know," he said wearily, raising his head. Harry remained silent. Sirius closed his eyes. "All that's left of the Order of the Phoenix, that's who."

Harry blinked. "Order of the..."

"Phoenix. Dumbledore's hand-picked Aurors. Along with a few unofficial individuals."

Harry stared. "You're a...an..."

"Yes."

"Well." Harry looked about the neat, white room for some kind of confirmation. Instead his eyes fell on a chair in the corner; he started to stand before remembering to take out his wand. "Accio chair. That explains a lot," he muttered, shifting to sit on the chair as it scraped to a stop in front of the bed.

"We have to collect proof and intelligence to present to key individuals and gain enough support from both the Ministry and other factions to fight the war against Voldemort," recited Black tonelessly.

"That your mantra?"

"Of sorts. You know the rest."

Not as much as I'd like to, thought Harry, but one glance at Sirius's thin body and the exhausted slump of his shoulders was enough to shut him up on the subject. The man's every muscle was visibly trembling. "Lie down." Black ignored him. Harry repeated it with authority he didn't know he possessed. "Lie down, Sirius."

Sirius's head fell forward again. His long black hair went with it, curtaining his face. After a moment he gave in and slowly lay back, drawing the covers about himself. He curled up on his side, facing Harry, staring into nowhere. Harry frowned, disturbed. Sirius seemed more than just tired. He seemed defeated.

"How do you know Rysk?" he asked suddenly, wanting to get Sirius talking again, to be alive.

Sirius shifted on the bed and Harry noticed he didn't meet his eyes when he replied. "From the old days. Here at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts? She's ten years younger than you!"

"Looks that way, doesn't it?" Black chuckled wistfully. "No, she can't be more than two years younger." He smiled wryly at the disbelief on Harry's face. "Do I look that old?"

Harry shook his head. "So you're old enemies?"

"Enemies?" Sirius arched a brow. "What makes you think that?"

"She wanted to kill you, didn't you get the letter?"

Black let out a long, thin sigh, letting his eyes fall shut. A spasm of torment passed over his face. "She knows I'm innocent?" Harry winced, sensing that he had probed at a gaping wound that would remain forever fresh in his godfather's soul.

"I don't know if she believes it," his voice turned sour, making no secret of his general dislike of Rysk, "but she's been told." He tilted his head. "What's going on, Sirius? Why's she going under another name?"

"It's a long story, Harry." Sirius sounded more weary than ever.

Harry's brow creased and his green eyes narrowed for half a second, but his conscience firmly stated that enough was enough. "Sorry." He accompanied the quick apology with an awkward but genuine attempt to brush the hair out of Sirius's face. "Go on, go to sleep, else Pomfrey'll knock you out anyway."

"I don't want to dream," Black murmured quietly, his fingers curling tightly over the covers.

It unnerved Harry to see Sirius so helpless. He had always known his godfather as a fiery man, the one that had suffered twelve years in Azkaban and emerged with sanity intact; but now it seemed that his failure to save Lupin had left him a ghost of his former self. Harry bit his lip and rested a hand on Sirius's back, suppressing a gasp at how bony his shoulders felt and resolving to make him eat as soon as possible. "You'll be too tired to," said Harry, trying to imitate Pomfrey's or even Rysk's brisk, certain tone of voice. "Besides, I'm here. It'll be all right. Go to sleep."

Black looked up at Harry with gratitude. After a while, his eyes drifted shut.

This is how Madam Pomfrey found Harry when the door swung open to let her in. She, too, looked tired; no longer shocked but simply resigned. "The Headmaster wants to see you in his office," she said softly to Harry's questioning expression.

Harry hesitated, loathe to leave Sirius's side, but carefully stood (wary of stiff joints) and squeezed his godfather's shoulder before walking to Pomfrey. When he looked at her expectantly she opened the door wider to reveal Snape standing several paces back. "Professor Snape will show you." At Harry's uncertain look she smiled wanly, reassuringly, before giving him a firm nudge toward the door. "I'll take care of him."

Harry nodded, trying to muster up something of a smile for the nurse, before walking out the door ("Have a nice day, boy.") with a last glance over his shoulder. Then Madam Pomfrey closed the door and he was alone with Snape in the corridor.

Harry tried to mask his discomfort as Snape stared at him emotionlessly for a moment. "Come on, then, Potter. The Headmaster's waiting."

He led him out of the hospital wing and through the castle in silence. As Harry stared at the back of Snape's black robes, he couldn't help but wonder if the Potions master really did care whether he disgusted Harry or not.

He had to bite his tongue to keep from apologizing.