Disclaimer: Nope.

Author's Note: Hello everyone, and thank you guys so much for the awesome reviews! I'm glad that at least some of my regulars know when I'm updating this story. I'm not sure if email notifications are back up for everyone, as I know mine haven't been working for quite a while now. I'm having to check everything manually, which is a royal pain, but I can deal with it because I love writing this story. Please, leave me reviews, I cherish each and every one of them. I love you guys.

I am very happy to say that, despite there being major issues with the technological thing I was worried about this past weekend - IT WAS NOT CANCELED! And that was better than anything I could have asked for. It didn't work out perfectly by any stretch of the imagination, but it might as well have been perfect because it was to me. There was so much devotion and effort involved that the technological issues didn't matter. At all. Because I would literally take ANYTHING over it being canceled. I couldn't have asked for better.

Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter - it was definitely a very emotional one. I take your points about both Chamber of Secrets and Goblet of Fire. Honestly, I don't think of Dumbledore as badly as Sirius does, but I do have major problems with him. Whenever I think about Cedric's death and how it could have been prevented, it makes me so incredibly sad and angry. I know it sounds crazy because Cedric's a fictional character, but his murder was so shocking and the way Rowling described his staring, vacant, wide-open, lifeless eyes and his frozen facial expression - I read Goblet of Fire for the first time in 2000, yet that scene still affects me deeply. I might not be able to see with my eyes, but my imagination has dredged up that image a thousand times. And when I saw the movie and heard Mr. Diggory screaming like that, it only added to the complete cruelty of his death. And what has made me the angriest about it is the way so many in the fandom treated Cho, but obviously, everyone here knows how I feel about that because I've said it often enough.

As for Professor Dillen Philand - this isn't the last you'll see of him. He will definitely play a role in this story. And, honestly, no, Minerva isn't falling for him. He just makes her feel wistful because he reminds her of the teenage boys from her own time at Hogwarts. There's almost a "what could have been" aspect to her thoughts of him.

Yellow 14 has very kindly given me another song to add to my playlist of songs I think of when writing this fic. There's a song entitled "Still Worth Fighting For" by My Darkest Days. Yellow 14 asked me whether the character of Sturgis would think this an uplifting song. I'd never heard it before, but upon listening to it, I absolutely agree. As a matter of fact, the human being Sturgis is based on is also a big rock fan, so I'm pretty positive he'd love it, too! Thank you, Yellow 14, for such a great contribution to my playlist!

I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's the aftermath, of course, of the terrible confrontation between Sirius and Dumbledore. I wanted to show how much Sirius respects Sturgis as a mentor - we saw the rough times, during that incident in October 1979. In this chapter, I want to show just why Sturgis came to mean so much to Sirius, as they shared countless good memories.

xxxxxxxxxx

Sturgis sat in one of the upstairs rooms in his home, a spacious room that he had designated as his office. It was rare that he had free time these days, but if there was any of it at all, he could be found here, studying and learning. There was a large desk with a comfortable chair that stood in pride of place, and a bookshelf that contained many tomes on varying subjects.

Sturgis Podmore, from the time he could walk and talk, had always had an extremely active mind. In fact, the people he knew well were known to worry about him, because he wasn't known for getting much sleep. He wished they wouldn't be so concerned, as he could honestly function pretty well with only a few hours' rest. It was rare that it affected him negatively, as it had last week - but then again, there were plenty of extenuating circumstances in that instance.

Maybe there were times he did work himself too hard - he recalled when he had almost burned himself out two weeks ago - but how could he possibly do anything else? He had put himself in a position where he was needed, because it was the right thing to do. It would always be the right thing to do.

And now, Albus Dumbledore had come back into the picture, only eight days after Minerva McGonagall had turned over the Order's leadership to Sturgis. Maybe, years ago, Sturgis would have been upset by it simply for the sake of ego. But now, this wasn't the case at all.

Sturgis Podmore didn't want Albus Dumbledore to resume the position of Order leader, simply because he had done so much wrong. Sturgis had been given plenty of time to think about it, about the differences between him and the man who had led him through the First War, and he realized that many of his tactics left ... much to be desired. Back in the 70's and early 80's, the Order, including himself, had relied on the strength and leadership of the Headmaster, doing as he ordered and putting their lives on the line to fight for a worthy cause.

This, Sturgis didn't regret for a second. The cause was always worth fighting for. The adults who did as Dumbledore asked of them agreed to his orders. They followed his lead, trusting that the road they were travelling would lead to a victory for the light, and cast out the darkness that was ravaging their world.

But it was when Sturgis learned about the prophecy, only a few months ago, when the doubts had really started to set in. Granted, there had been orders that he'd disagreed with during the First War - there had been times that his instincts screamed at him that something wasn't right. But learning about the prophecy, and fitting certain puzzle pieces into place ... it only made the alarm bells blare more loudly.

Over the past few years, he'd heard things - the rumors surrounding Harry Potter were numerous. Several people he worked with at the Ministry had heard the stories of his heroism during his first and second years, and Sturgis listened to each and every one of them, trying to suss out what was true and what was not. The ones surrounding the Chamber of Secrets had been especially prevalent.

He'd never forget the terrible day when he found out that Voldemort was back. This was something he had always believed would happen - the events surrounding his defeat at Godric's Hollow were just too strange, and the fact that his body had never been discovered in the destroyed house made him extremely suspicious. For ten years, the wizarding world saw neither hide nor hair of Harry Potter, and all Sturgis was able to find out was that the boy was safe, apparently living with family.

The feelings that bombarded him upon learning of Voldemort's return ... there were honestly no words to describe them. A few days after Harry Potter escaped from Hogwarts and Albus Dumbledore was arrested, Sturgis left Ben with his grandparents and Apparated to a stretch of English countryside and went for a long walk to clear his head. It was one of those places that was a perfect spot for reflection, and Sturgis had certainly used it a time or two. It was one of those places where important life decisions were made.

Staring out at the beautiful sunset, Sturgis had known it was another one of those moments. Overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the sky, an incredible feeling of sadness swept over him, so devastating in its intensity that it bowled him over, and he lost his breath as he collapsed to his knees. Visions of the future bombarded his mind - it would be just like it had been before. The empty faces, the hopeless expressions, the silence of a vacant Diagon Alley with no life inside of it. The listlessness, the complete blankness in the eyes of Aurors like himself as they carried bodies of innocent civilians out of destroyed homes with the Dark Mark hanging over them, the constant announcements on the Wizarding Wireless of disappearances and deaths, delivered by men and women who spoke in monotone voices because to show any emotion would only open the floodgates. Saint Mungo's would struggle to find open spots for patients in need, because they'd constantly be taken up by witches and wizards suffering, bleeding, dying from horrific curses ...

And the most devastating thing of all was that his son, Benjamin, would have to grow up in that world. And he knew that, even though the boy would be at Hogwarts and would certainly not have a problem making friends, he wouldn't be sheltered from it as much as Sturgis hoped. The war would make its way into hallways, into classrooms, into the Great Hall, into common rooms.

Students would find out that their loved ones had been injured and killed. And Sturgis was stricken by the fact that Ben could very well be one of them. Sturgis, after all, was not only a member of the Order, but an Auror. And in an environment like this, people like himself were far from safe. How was he supposed to tell his baby boy that he might not be here to pick him up from the Hogwarts Express in December to share another Christmas of smiles, laughter, snowball fights, hot chocolate, and ripping presents open? How could he hug him goodbye on September 1 and not be sure whether he'd ever see him again?

And he realized that even if he stopped fighting, even if he quit the Order, quit being an Auror ... he still wouldn't be safe. Obviously, the career he had chosen put him in even more danger, but if he were to just sit at home all day, lost in his thoughts ...

And he realized - he couldn't do that. He had to keep fighting. It was one of the hardest decisions he'd ever made, because he would literally do anything to spend just one more day with his son. He wanted to see so many of his milestones, to watch as he grew into the mature, wonderful young man Sturgis knew Benjamin would become.

But he also realized, as he continued to stare out at one of the most gorgeous sunsets he had ever seen, that Benjamin always seemed to understand more than he let on. The boy understood what Sturgis did for a living, and not once had he ever told him he wished he'd stop. Not once did he lament the fact that there were times he couldn't be with his dad because he was off doing something very important for work.

And when his boy inevitably found out about Voldemort's return, he did not cry. There was fear in his eyes, but he did not plead for Sturgis to quit his job. Instead, he hugged him extra tightly, not saying anything at all, and Sturgis realized right then and there that Benjamin was all too aware of the sacrifice his father might have to make. Yet still, he remained strong and brave, giving Sturgis the strength to do what must be done.

Therefore, as Sturgis gazed at the sky in the beautiful English countryside, he sighed. There was something so ... incredibly strange about this moment, that the sunset could be so beautiful, yet unimaginable horror, pain, and sorrow was just around the corner, waiting to be unleashed.

But perhaps, it wasn't so strange after all. Perhaps it was trying to tell Sturgis something. Perhaps it was ...

Hope. Resilience. Strength. Perseverance. Endurance.

Sturgis hadn't had an easy life, and he'd learned that sometimes, the only way you could move forward was to possess those things in great quantities. He had realized that you could either walk through life being bitter, cynical, jaded, and hopeless, or you could help others by being optimistic and reassuring.

His mind was submerged in memories again, of the hopeless, empty faces of the Order as they buried loved ones, of the grief-stricken words he had heard as people lost the faith, the strength, the fight in them. He recalled the way people moved, like they had the weight of the entire world on their shoulders as they looked as though they had given up completely, and it was like Voldemort had already won.

And Sturgis Podmore refused to let that happen again. If people had to depend on him to be the voice of reason, to be the beacon of hope, to be the light in the darkness, then so be it. If he had to work every single day to make it possible for people to believe that the war would end and they would be victorious, then so be it. In that moment, as the sun finally disappeared from the sky and the moon came out in all its splendor, the stars twinkling down on him, Sturgis Podmore knew what he had to do. His heart opened, and a great resolve filled it, replacing the overwhelming sorrow with an enormous well of power that restored him to full strength. Climbing to his feet, he knew he was ready to fulfil his new purpose.

Within minutes of coming to this decision, he had Apparated to the home of his confidant and very best friend, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"I need your help."

And it was then that the decision to use his house as Order Headquarters, and the ideas for the evening gatherings had begun.

It hadn't been easy. No, it hadn't been easy at all. Sometimes, it was all he could do to look at the headlines in the Daily Prophet and find anything to be optimistic about. Sometimes, after the evening gatherings had ended, he'd collapse into a chair with his head in his hands.

Was he enough? Was he doing enough? Was he helping the Order? Was he successful in giving people the hope they needed to carry on?

And, two weeks ago, as they'd stood around him, shielding him, comforting him as the lyrics of The Circle made their way into his heart ... he realized that he'd received more from this than he'd ever asked for. Because he might be giving everything to the Order, but they were giving everything back to him equally. And Sturgis realized that this was one of the best decisions he'd ever made.

The Order was now more motivated than ever to assist in the defeat of Voldemort, and beat back the forces of darkness. And, along the way, they had grown to trust and respect each other so much. It made Sturgis incredibly proud when he saw Order members at his evening gatherings sharing smiles and laughter with each other. He saw them embrace warmly as they confessed worries for the safety of their loved ones. And he saw them shed tears for those who were no longer alive, but through it all, their resolve to see Voldemort's final defeat never wavered.

And now, as he sat in his office, he knew that someone he cared about deeply, someone who he was lucky to still be on good terms with, because he felt he didn't deserve the man's forgiveness - Sirius Black was currently in his living room, facing something that no one should have to. Sturgis didn't envy Sirius the position he was in, to confront a man who had hurt Harry Potter so badly.

It was incredibly hard for Sturgis to not let the guilt drown him whenever he set eyes on Sirius. He'd never forget the days when he used to mentor him, the way Sirius used to gaze at him, like Sturgis was some kind of God while Sirius was a tiny ant looking up to the high and mighty. Despite the fact that Sturgis was aware of his own intelligence and smarts, it did not make him happy to witness Sirius's lack of belief in himself. Sturgis had made it his mission to show Sirius how much he was worth.

But then, he'd misjudged him completely. Seeing him there on the street, hysterically laughing while surrounded by lifeless bodies, his face contorted with insanity while a pile of robes and a bloody finger lay beside him - Sturgis had to admit that it had been his own ego that had caused him to act the way he did. He was so convinced he'd failed in his duties that he jumped to the wrong conclusion about a man he'd grown to care for deeply. And so, Sturgis had been essential to Sirius's twelve-yar long stint in Azkaban. And if not for his amazing escape ...

Sturgis shuddered, and closed his eyes. If he let the guilt flood him again, it would surely kill him. He wouldn't be doing Sirius any favors by letting regret consume him, as he realized Sirius knew that blaming himself for past mistakes wouldn't help Harry.

Sturgis opened his eyes when he heard slow footsteps coming up the stairs. There was complete silence coming from the rest of the house, and Sturgis knew that Dumbledore was still downstairs. He would recognize Sirius's footsteps anywhere.

"Sturgis? Are you up here?" The man's voice shook as he continued to ascend the staircase.

"I'm here, Sirius. In my office." Sturgis opened the door and stood in the doorway, beckoning for Sirius to enter the room.

It was a shaken, white-faced Sirius who did so. Sturgis conjured another chair next to him. Neither man spoke as Sirius bonelessly collapsed into it.

Sturgis had seen this expression on Sirius's face countless times before - it was the look his old student wore when he was terrified that Sturgis would be disappointed in him. He was once again looking at Sturgis like he was a God and Sirius was an insect, waiting for Judgment Day to arrive. Sturgis couldn't stand when Sirius stared at him like this - he had always treated Sirius as an equal, because that's what he was. In the end, no matter who taught who, both men were exactly the same - they were human beings with their own feelings, desires, and regrets.

"What's happened, Sirius?" Sturgis's voice was gentle. There wasn't any judgment in his gaze, only concern for the well-being of his fellow Order member.

For several moments, Sirius couldn't speak. His eyes were closed as he breathed deeply, practicing the calming techniques Sturgis had taught him so many years before. His entire body shook, and his face was as white as parchment.

Sturgis laid a gentle hand on the other man's shoulder. "Look at me, Sirius." His voice remained gentle, but became commanding at the same time. "Tell me what happened."

"I screamed myself hoarse at him." Sirius finally whispered. "I ... I hate him so much, Sturgis. He hurt Harry. He hurt him so much."

Sturgis said nothing, because he knew that Sirius needed to vent. Over the years, Sturgis had been accused of liking the sound of his own voice, and he had to admit that those accusations were indeed true. He always had so much to say - but not right now. There were times when Sturgis knew that the right thing to do was to be quiet.

"I ... Sturgis, I said something awful to him. Something really awful, and he ... he broke down. I ... I've never seen ..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

To so many people, Albus Dumbledore breaking down and weeping would seem like such a strange picture. Sturgis, however, was not surprised by it at all, and it made contradictory feelings blossom within him. There was empathy there - Dumbledore had only just recovered from a violent assault, only to be raked over the coals by Sirius. But, at the same time ...

As it always did in matters like this, Ben's face swam to the forefront of his mind. If his thoughts began to drift and he imagined his son in Harry's position, being tested and subtly trained as a weapon against Voldemort and expected to sacrifice himself for the cause ... it made his anger rise to terrifying levels. Sturgis didn't know exactly what Harry had been through with his Muggle relatives, but he remembered his facial expression at Sirius's trial, and Ron's confession that his best mate did not get along well with them. And Sturgis knew with a bone-deep certainty that if he, not Sirius, had been the one downstairs confronting Dumbledore, the man wouldn't simply be weeping on the ground. He, Sturgis, would have shown far less restraint and wouldn't have thought to not have his wand on him. He closed his eyes again as a vivid picture entered his mind of what he would be willing to do to a man who would dare to ...

"Sirius." Sturgis spoke again, because he had to stay focused on the current situation rather than let his mind conjure up images of exactly what he would do to Albus Dumbledore if he were in Sirius's position.

Sirius's haunted gray eyes focused on him again. They seemed to scream - aren't you disappointed? Aren't you going to say I should know better, that I let my temper get the best of me again?

"I let Harry down." The words were whispered so softly that Sturgis could barely hear them. "I promised him that I wouldn't hurt Dumbledore, not even with my words. But I did. I made him cry. But ..." He swallowed, his face still holding no color. "I don't regret anything I said," he continued, still in a whisper. "At all."

It was a testament to how seriously the man was taking responsibility over Harry that he was so worried about how his behavior might affect the boy. Sturgis's voice was gentle as he prodded, "What, exactly, did you say to Albus?" His hand remained on Sirius's shoulder, trying to be the calming, dependable influence the other man needed at that moment.

"I asked him," Sirius said shakily, "whether he would have killed Harry himself if he decided not to sacrifice himself."

Sturgis simply nodded, his gaze steady. He wasn't at all surprised to hear that Sirius had taken things so far. Like himself, especially when he was younger, Sirius was rash, impulsive, and could act without thinking, throwing himself into a situation without any thought of the consequences. It was why, when he'd first set eyes on him when he joined the Auror core, he had taken it upon himself to be Sirius's mentor. Sometimes, looking at him was like gazing into a mirror and seeing his younger self.

Sturgis continued to make direct eye contact with Sirius, showing no condemnation, no disappointment. He simply held Sirius's gaze and waited for him to say something more.

"Harry ... he trusted Albus. He's putting a brave face on things, but I know this is hurting him." Sirius's voice was still almost inaudible. "I can't bear ... I can't bear the fact that Dumbledore was the one who did this to him. But ... I didn't want to hurt Harry either, and when he finds out about ..."

"Sirius." The other man seemed to hold his breath, waiting for the axe to fall. "Could you please not look at me like that?"

"Like ... like what?" Sirius asked in confusion.

"Like you're afraid of me," Sturgis said quietly. The guilt tried to suffocate him again as he heard his own voice filled with rage, hate, and betrayal as he pointed his wand at a hysterically laughing Sirius. "STUPEFY!" It was a word that condemned him to twelve years of pain and misery.

"Sorry." Sirius instantly apologized.

"I would have said - and done - far worse."

The confession was said softly, and it was straight from the heart. "Sirius, maybe you didn't handle this perfectly. But you handled the situation much better than I would have done. I have no compunctions about saying so."

Sirius looked absolutely thrown - astounded didn't begin to cover it. "You ... you would have ..."

"Yes. I would have." Sturgis's eyes hardened as he thought of the man in his living room. "And I would have been armed. Sirius, the student has surpassed the teacher. You know what facing Albus would do to you, and you mitigated the harm that could be done. If it was me in your position ..." It was his turn to trail off.

Sirius looked at Sturgis with wide gray eyes that were so full of pain that he felt his heart skip several beats. "Sturgis," he whispered. "I ... I could lose him. I could really lose him. Because I know him. If there's no other way, he's going to insist that sacrificing himself is the right thing."

Sturgis thought of Harry, of the many lessons they'd had in Muggle duelling, of the interest and curiosity in his eyes as Sturgis imparted much of the knowledge he had gained. "There is hope, Sirius." Sturgis believed this with everything he had. "You're not going to lose him." There was conviction in his voice, the same conviction he showed the Order when he stated with certainty that they would be victorious.

"But how do you know?" Sirius stared at him in the same way he used to sixteen years ago.

"I don't know." Sturgis admitted quietly. "But every single one of my instincts is telling me that you mustn't give up hope." He squeezed Sirius's shoulder. "Harry needs you now," he stated. "I know how difficult it is to be brave and strong for someone else when you feel anything but. Believe me, I know." He thought of his son, of his son's mother - and immediately felt an intense pain ripple through him.

It must have shown on his face very briefly, because Sirius saw it. "Are you all right?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm fine." Sturgis let out a quick breath and concentrated on the previous subject. "You must take time to heal now," he told him, his voice exuding authority. "Go to the Burrow and be with Harry. We will partake in our normal evening gathering tonight, but you do not have to be here if you don't want to. I will understand perfectly if you need time away."

"What about ... what about Albus?" Sirius croaked. "Will he be here?"

"No." Sturgis shook his head. "I will ask Minerva to come and retrieve him. If I send her a Patronus now, she will be here within minutes. I will know once they have left the house, and then you can go for Harry." He paused. "I will schedule a meeting with the more seasoned members of the Order for late afternoon tomorrow, so we can speak with him about where things stand."

Sirius studied him closely, and recognized something in his eyes. "You don't trust him, do you? And it's not because you would rather lead the Order than him," he said quietly.

Sturgis held his gaze. "Correct," he said promptly.

Sirius nodded back. "I understand."

"And," Sturgis continued, "if you do not wish to attend the meeting tomorrow, you don't have to, either. What you went through today with Dumbledore took an emotional toll on you both."

Sirius nodded again. "I ... thanks," he murmured. Still looking worried, he asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

Sturgis thought back to that fateful day when Sirius had reminded him, in no uncertain terms, that he did not make it a priority to pry into his personal life. And he wasn't doing it now, either - he was just concerned for him. Sirius had always been concerned for him, because he somehow saw things that Sturgis kept hidden beneath the surface.

"I'm fine, Sirius. I promise," Sturgis told him reassuringly as he patted his shoulder again. "I'm just thinking about the past."