Disclaimer: Nope.
Author's Note: Hello, and thank you for the great reviews!
First of all, I really, really appreciate the criticism I got last chapter about how I told about the interrogations rather than showed them. When I looked back at the chapter again, I realized exactly what you meant. I promise that I'll be much, much more watchful about that in the future. I hope this chapter is a whole lot better. You're also right about how the boy Sturgis and Williamson interrogated has legally been an adult in the wizarding world for over a year. I felt like the world's biggest idiot when I realized you were right about that. I've actually gone back and edited that a bit, so that is included. I wrote that whole paragraph with Sturgis's feelings very much at the forefront of my mind, because he would think of that boy as still a child in a lot of respects.
I'm really glad you liked the part about what Kingsley said to Sturgis. It was a humbling conclusion that I myself came to, because I have a tendency to depend on people way too heavily, and I'm exceedingly guilty of doing it to the person Sturgis is based off of. There seems to be this ... invincible air about him, and it has left me under the impression that nothing can touch him. But there have been times when I've had to realize that he is, actually - guess what? - a real human being, and I've realized just how much I want to give back to him. Those moments, in fact, have only heightened my respect for him. The song, The Circle, was actually a poem I thought of during one of those moments, when he experienced a horrific loss and I desperately wanted to help him. On that night, I was so upset for him and my mind was buzzing with so many thoughts that I honestly could only come up with the first verse. This was in May 2021. For the longest time, I couldn't think of anything to follow it, but I came up with the rest of it in September 2023, believe it or not. I think what jolted me into finally finishing it was the fact that I wanted it in this story. All my feelings rose to the forefront, and I was able to complete it. I don't ever want to forget that he's just like every one of us. And, inevitably, the time will come again when I need to be there for him and carry him, because life happens and we humans face things that can be very difficult. I absolutely love the addage that one of my other reviewers came up with - "courage is finite, but it is a renewable resource". I've never heard that one before, but it's amazing. I adore that.
Also, just so you know, I went back and changed something in the last chapter. Before, I had Kingsley coming to tell Sirius and Harry what happened after the most recent attack by Voldemort and the Death Eaters. But I realized it would make much more sense for Moody to do so, since he knows about the scar link and Kingsley doesn't know about it yet. I think Kingsley would wonder why he was sent to tell Harry what happened if he didn't know that information. I hope this makes more sense now.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I allude to a major event that happened in October 1979 here - Sirius flashes back to it. I don't explain everything here, but it will be talked about fully in a future chapter. In fact, it won't be long from now.
xxxxxxxxxx
Sirius sat with Harry at the kitchen table on Friday morning. He was a bit bleary-eyed, not having slept awfully well last night. Harry looked about the same as Sirius felt, picking at the scrambled eggs, sausages, baked beans, and crispy potatoes Kreacher had prepared.
It had been a difficult few days, to say the least. There had been plenty of time to think about the destruction of the Horcrux, and no matter how much Sirius wanted to be reassured by the fact that it was now gone, he still wasn't.
The first thing he'd done after returning home following Wednesday night's evening gathering was tell Harry about it. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to hide his mood from the boy and, right away, Harry had noticed. "What's the matter?" he had asked instantly, looking at his godfather with clear worry. "Don't you trust that it's really been destroyed?"
"I'm sorry, kiddo," Sirius apologized with a heavy heart. "It should be something we're celebrating. For all intents and purposes, Voldemort is mortal again." He stopped and took a deep breath. "No, it's not that I don't trust Henderson," he said quietly. "After all, he's been vouched for by Mad-Eye Moody. And we both know that that man leaves no stone unturned when it comes to vetting people."
Harry gave him a small smile. "Yeah," he agreed. "So ... why ..."
"I can't explain it." Sirius's gray eyes were clouded. "I just have a ... bad feeling." He sighed, not wanting to tell the boy that it was the same feeling he'd had on Halloween 1981 even before he turned up at Peter's flat and seen that something was amiss.
Sirius felt guilt sweep over him as he saw the look in Harry's eyes. "What do we do?" the boy asked softly.
Sirius would do anything to alleviate Harry's worry. "I'm probably wrong. Just as paranoid as old Mad-Eye," he said, although every instinct in him was screaming that he was right. "I'm probably just looking for things to worry about. I'm sorry, Harry. We won a significant battle today, and that's what we should focus on."
But still, as Harry went to bed that night, Sirius had lain in his own, unable to sleep. Something was definitely wrong, and the most terrible thing was that he just couldn't put his finger on it.
And then, the attack had come, and he'd woken up to Harry's heartwrenching screams. All Sirius could do was hold Harry and try to rouse him. Amazingly, he had woken up fifteen minutes after the attack had started, and the news he brought had shot a dart of fear straight into Sirius's heart. Voldemort and several of his sadistic supporters were attacking only a few streets away from Sturgis's home, also known as Order Headquarters.
It had been as unbearable as four nights ago as Sirius held a shaking Harry in his arms while waiting for news. It had only been four days since he'd revealed the prophecy to Harry, and the memories rose up around him, impossible to escape.
Just when neither Sirius nor Harry thought they could take any more waiting, Moody had arrived to tell them what had happened. More lives had been saved, but Sirius could see in the boy's eyes that it was taking everything in him not to focus on the lives that had been lost. It was obvious Moody knew what Harry was thinking, because he reiterated the same thing. "You saved lives tonight," he said gruffly. "I want you to remember that." In the next moment, he was gone, leaving Sirius to comfort Harry.
The attack honestly felt like an omen to Sirius - it was as if he'd had his point proven. He didn't think the attack had anything to do with the destruction of the Horcrux - there was no reason to believe that Voldemort was aware that it was gone. But it only heightened the uneasy feeling in him that all was not as it seemed.
Harry had struggled through yesterday's tutoring sessions with both Remus and Bill. Bill knew about the scar link, but Remus didn't. There was a big part of Sirius that wanted to confide in his remaining best friend and reveal everything to him, but he couldn't. Telling Remus would feel like betraying Harry, and that was the last thing he wanted. Fortunately, Remus didn't see the deeper meaning behind Harry's lack of focus, only thinking that it had to do with the Daily Prophet article that had been printed about the attack in question.
And then, the Order had received the message from Sturgis:
Hello, my friends. No evening gathering tonight. I need to take time off. So sorry. Take care of yourselves and we'll be back on tomorrow.
Even though Sirius was exhausted and it was plain to see that Harry was, too, he couldn't help the worry that gnawed inside him. He knew what kind of man Sturgis was, and it took an awful lot for him to admit that he needed time off. Sirius had known him to function during times when it shouldn't have been possible. He was one of the strongest, one of the most stubborn, one of the most steadfast people he had ever met. He seemed to contain an endless amount of perseverance and endurance, and he gave off the impression that nothing could touch him.
But it could. Sturgis was only human. And the attack had happened way too close to home. What person wouldn't be affected by that? It was obvious. It didn't take a genius to know why Sturgis needed time off.
Sirius thought back to the other times when he had realized that the man who had mentored him and made him the Auror he was, the man who had taught him to believe in his abilities and helped him hone his skills, was as human as anyone else. He remembered seeing him on August 31, just under a month ago. It had been an unguarded moment as he was preparing Ben's French toast pizza. The prospect of Ben's imminent journey to Hogwarts the next day was weighing heavily on him.
Then, there had been the look in his eyes during Sirius's trial, the way he wore guilt like a second skin - just like himself. He still hadn't forgiven himself for misjudging Sirius so badly, and being the one to start him on his journey to Azkaban. Sirius dearly hoped that his sincere words to him on August 31 had shown him that he was forgiven.
Perhaps Sturgis had made such a deep impression because Sirius had always seen aspects of himself in him. As a young Auror, he'd been desperate to prove himself, and he'd seen that same look in Sturgis's eyes that he saw every day in the mirror. And those hints Sturgis dropped about his past reminded Sirius of his desperate attempts to get away from his own. Sirius had always despised seeing that inherent Black madness shining from behind his gray eyes. Though Sturgis had never hinted that it was his family background that had been rough, there was something in his countenance that spoke of things he'd done that he wasn't proud of. And if Sirius hadn't already suspected it, John Dawlish had confirmed it when he'd cross-examined Sturgis. Sirius had never pried into his personal life, but something about the way he carried himself showed that his past was a huge factor in his present.
Then, there had been the events of last week, when Sirius had looked at Sturgis, exhausted and in pain from working out, and got the horrible sensation that he wouldn't grow old. He had so much energy, so much strength, so much resilience, but there was something about it that scared Sirius. Upon the realization that he couldn't picture Sturgis at 90, his heart had shattered. That was the night when he'd run over to him, begging him to take care of himself. The lyrics of The Circle echoed through his mind.
And then, there was October 1979. Thinking of that ... incident still shot a thrill of fear down Sirius's spine. He still flashed back to it sometimes, in the dead of night when he wasn't expecting it. Maybe it was the mere memory of it that had made Sirius react the way he had last week. It snuck into his dreams, one word being loudest of all.
Missing. Missing. Missing.
There had been no communication. No word. No nothing. All there had been was pain and fear and worry and uncertainty and desperation. All there had been was suspecting something was wrong and being helpless, helpless to do anything.
He'd known that Sturgis should never have gone on that mission. He'd known he wasn't feeling well before even embarking on it. He'd known that something bad was going to happen. He'd known - he'd known - he'd KNOWN.
And then ... it had happened. For almost sixteen hours, he'd thought the Death Eaters had caught up with Sturgis. For almost sixteen hours, he hadn't been heard from. It was one of the worst days of Sirius's entire life.
And then ... and then. Almost sixteen hours of worry, only to find out that, the entire time ...
He'd been so angry. So livid. Enraged. "Maybe you're not worth my time!" The madness clawed at him, constricting his lungs, his heart, his soul. He couldn't see past the red film of anger that blocked his sight. His hands shook, the world went in and out of focus as Earth stood still around him yet everything was shaking. He was so sleep-deprived that he thought he'd collapse at any second.
Violently, Sirius shook himself out of the memory. How many bloody times had it had replay in Azkaban? Too many to count. Stop it, Sirius, he told himself disgustedly. That was almost sixteen years ago. Sixteen years. And things are different now. Sturgis communicated. He isn't "missing". He just needs rest.
Still, though, Sirius wanted to reach out and help him. Because Sturgis had always been worth his time. Always. Every millisecond of it. He'd been one of those people that made Sirius who he was today. It didn't matter what had happened in the past. For some reason, it had always been impossible to hold a grudge against him, and Sirius was famous for not letting things go, even though it was something he was trying to change now. Even with the events surrounding Halloween 1981 lying between them, Sirius had forgiven Sturgis before even realizing he'd done so.
I hope you feel better soon.
The message Sirius had written back to him in the Order's communication book was simple, and Sirius realized it was all he needed to say, although he wished he could say more. He just couldn't find the words, though.
And now, it was Friday morning. Harry had gone to bed early last night, and he was up early this morning. Sturgis was supposed to come for his tutoring session, and both Harry and Sirius were concerned. Would he be well enough to come today? There was no reason to think that he wouldn't, but ...
At that precise moment, a familiar owl flew in through the window.
Sturgis's owl.
Sirius immediately felt his heart pick up speed. Why was Sturgis sending an owl?
Grimmauld Place was unplottable. Owls could find it, but there needed to be a special effort made for them to do so. When Sirius had arrived home for his first Christmas during his first year at Hogwarts, he'd wanted to write to James, Remus, and Peter. He could send his own owl, of course, and his friends could send their replies back with her. But what if his friends wanted to owl him first?
There were two loopholes Sirius had found out about that made it possible for other owls to reach Grimmauld Place. Sirius sent his owl, Athena, to James, and James's owl, Greta, had followed Athena back to Grimmauld Place. Owls could certainly communicate with one another, and therefore, due to this method, Greta now knew the location of Grimmauld Place. Remus and Peter had done the same thing with their owls, and because of this, Sirius could communicate with his friends without a problem, much to the sincere displeasure of Walburga and Orion Black.
The other loophole was that if someone brought their owl with them to the house through the Floo network or any other travel method, they would also know where the house was. Harry had done that with the Weasleys this summer, and the owls belonging to his tutors now knew where the house was for the same reason.
Still, it was unusual for Sturgis to send an owl, and it was also awfully early in the morning. The worry was apparent in Harry's eyes as Sirius took the letter from the owl's leg and began to read it.
Dear Sirius,
I'm really sorry. There won't be an evening gathering tonight for personal reasons. Please tell Harry to take care of himself, and that he conducted himself admirably during the attack. I am very proud of him.
I am more than happy to help you help Harry further. If you're available tomorrow for a lesson right after my regular session with him, I'll teach you the first steps.
Don't worry - I will be fine. We're all good for tomorrow.
Best wishes,
Sturgis
Never had the events of October 1979 come back to Sirius more severely than right now. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. Sturgis had canceled the evening gathering for two nights in a row, something almost unheard of, and, and, and ... he said the tutoring session was tomorrow. Tomorrow was Saturday.
It was like sixteen years ago all over again, before he'd left for that Merlin-forsaken mission. Sturgis wasn't well. He was getting his days of the week mixed up. He didn't know what he was doing or which way he was going. What Sirius feared most had come to pass and things were entirely too much for him.
And this owl ... this owl proved that. This message didn't make any sense, and Sirius was scared.
"Sirius? What's happened?" The fear in Harry's voice snapped Sirius out of his panic, if for just a moment. "What's happened?"
"Sturgis canceled the evening gathering again tonight. And he says he'll see us tomorrow for your tutoring session. Tomorrow's Saturday. This isn't making any sense," he said in a rush. He tried to take a deep breath, knowing that he was doing the worst thing by panicking in front of Harry. Calm down. Snap out of it. This isn't 1979 anymore and you need to get a hold of yourself.
Harry's eyes widened. "What should we do?" he asked, becoming the Harry who immediately went into action upon waking up from his visions of Voldemort.
Sirius tried to fight down his emotions. "I ... I don't ..."
But then, the sound of a familiar beeping permeated the room. These days, Sirius always tried to remember to carry the Order communication book with him at all times. Right now, it was lying beside Sirius on the kitchen table.
Without a second of hesitation, Sirius raised his wand, spoke the password, and opened it to read the message inside, meant only for Sirius:
I just wanted to reassure you that I'm feeling a lot better today. Tell Harry not to worry and that I'll be there at our normal time. We're also back on for the evening gathering tonight. Sturgis.
Sirius's mouth gaped open for a moment before he jumped up from the table. "I need to contact Kingsley," he said instantly while running into the living room, knowing that there wasn't a moment to lose.
xxx
Sturgis put down his quill as he sipped his coffee, basking in the warmth that it offered him. He smiled, appreciating the fact that his mind was clearer than it had been in quite a while.
It had been a tremendous source of relief to go to his parents' home the night before. His mother was a retired Healer, and his father was a former employee at the Magical Menagerie, animals being his great passion in life.
They'd taken one look at Sturgis and known that their son needed them. After the attack on Wednesday night that had been so close to his house, and after the day he'd had at the Ministry yesterday, he'd needed nothing more than the comfort of his family to help pull him through.
He'd let his mother hold him while he wept all the tears he'd been holding in. He felt his father's hand on his back, a stable, steady, grounding source of comfort as he released the weight that had been crippling him.
They hadn't needed him to tell them what was going on. They didn't demand anything of him. It struck Sturgis once again just how important family was as he was finally able to breathe easier.
They didn't ask him to stop what he was doing. They had always known how important his work was. They just knew that there were times Sturgis needed to come to them. By tomorrow, he'd be okay again, and they knew it.
Therefore, Sturgis's mother simply gave him a Dreamless Sleeping Potion and allowed Sturgis to be warm and comfortable for the rest of the day. He'd briefly woken up to eat dinner, and then he'd spent the night in his childhood bedroom. There would always be something immensely comforting about it.
"Take care of yourself, son." Mr. Podmore had smiled reassuringly at him as he'd stood at the threshold early this morning, feeling cleansed, well-rested, and prepared to resume his duties once more.
"We'll always be here when you need us, darling." Sturgis wasn't ashamed to admit that even now, when he was in his thirties, he took comfort in her terms of endearment for him.
"I know." Sturgis smiled at them, relishing in his father's sturdy presence and his mother's gentle eyes. "Thank you for everything."
He'd always known there was no need for thanks, and it was precisely why he gave it anyway. Exiting the house, he breathed in the fresh air and Apparated back to his own home.
Now, in just a few minutes, he would arrive at Grimmauld Place and have his Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic tutoring session with Harry. Afterwards, he'd call Sirius back in so he could begin teaching the man Muggle duelling. He was honestly looking forward to it. Death Eaters, after all, never expected anything to do with Muggles to be put to use.
Suddenly, he heard his Floo roar to life. Standing up, he put his mug down on the coffee table. Who could be visiting him? Everyone in the Order knew his schedule, that he'd be tutoring Harry. Was someone coming to check on him because of last night? He honestly felt guilty that he'd had to miss the evening gathering, but he knew Kingsley was right. Doing it would have been impossible.
It was very sudden. One minute, Sturgis was wondering who his visitor was. The next moment, Moody, Emmeline, and - Merlin - Kingsley, of all people, were pointing a wand in his face.
Sturgis instantly felt his instincts kick in as he grabbed his own wand. All the rest yesterday had made him quicker on his feet. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"It's us who gets to ask the questions." It had been a very long time since Sturgis had heard his best friend Kingsley sound so harsh. "Who are you?"
Sturgis blanched for a split second, and then, he immediately understood. For some reason, Moody, Kingsley, and Emmeline were under the impression that he was not who he said he was. Something was leading them to assume that foul play was somehow involved and that he was some kind of imposter.
But they should know that something like this was very unlikely. After all, Sturgis, Moody, and Kingsley had warded this place themselves, taking extreme precautions since this was now Order Headquarters. It had taken them several days to do so, but by the time it was done, it was almost impossible for any imposter to gain entry.
But Sturgis also knew that you could never be completely sure of these things. "It's really me. The first cat my dad ever owned was named Scotty," he said immediately.
"Not good enough, boy." Moody was the one who spoke, and none of them lowered their wands. "I'd like to know what the hell you did with Sturgis!"
Sturgis stared at all three of his would-be attackers. They all stood ramrod straight, their eyes hard and unforgiving. There was no ounce of emotion in them to be found - this was them in complete Auror mode.
Think, think. What is something that I've only told them? he thought, realizing that he probably had inadvertently told others about his dad's cats.
There was nothing for it. He had always wanted to keep this a secret, but there was too much at stake for him to do so. Plus, it had happened more than two decades ago and it was about time he started speaking about it. He remembered the boy he had interrogated yesterday, and it was this, strangely enough, that gave him courage. "The day I decided to leave Hogwarts, I told you about it and made you promise to not come after me." He looked directly at Kingsley, but knew the others were listening attentively.
Kingsley's eyes softened. "It's all right," he told Moody and Emmeline. "Lower your wands. It's him." He patted Sturgis's shoulder. "You're looking so much better," he said quietly.
In the next moment, Sturgis was sitting on the couch with his three guests sitting in chairs. "We had to do that," Moody said by way of explanation of their harsh treatment towards him. "Thanks for understanding."
Sturgis only nodded, because he understood perfectly. If he thought any imposter was involved in anything, especially if it was one of his fellow Aurors, he would have done the same thing. Getting down to business, he stared at all of them. "What's happened?" he asked.
"What's happened is that Sirius contacted me ten minutes ago," Kingsley explained while retrieving a piece of parchment from his robes pocket. "He gave me this. The owl bearing this letter arrived this morning. Did you write this?"
Sturgis had to admit that he was thoroughly astounded as he read through the note that he had attached to Elaina's leg. "I ... I wrote this yesterday," he said haltingly, knowing that his eyes had widened. "And Sirius said it arrived ... just this morning?"
"Indeed. And only minutes before you wrote in his book," Emmeline stated.
"But ..." Sturgis's head was swimming. "I sent that owl at one o'clock yesterday afternoon! It should have gotten to Sirius in no more than an hour! And yet you say it got there at ..."
"Eight-thirty this morning," Moody supplied. "Eighteen and a half hours after it was supposed to."
Sturgis's heart was racing. "Is Elaina okay?" he gasped, overwhelmed with concern for his owl.
"She appears to be fine, as Sirius didn't mention anything being wrong with her. She's still at Grimmauld Place. You'll see her when you go over to tutor Harry."
Sturgis sat still for a moment as his mind went to work. He hadn't suspected anything was amiss with Elaina, because he'd told her yesterday to keep herself occupied until this morning. When he hadn't seen her upon his return home from his parents' house, he'd assumed she was out hunting.
He'd always prided himself on being able to solve mysteries, and he took several deep breaths as he tried to piece together what might have happened. He mulled over all the details of the past few days, all the discussions and conversations he'd partaken in.
It was only a few seconds later when a bolt of clarity hit him. "I think," he said slowly, "that this might have a lot to do with Sylvanus Kettleburn's little experiment."
xxx
Today had certainly been a whirlwind, and it was only twelve o'clock in the afternoon, Sirius thought as Sturgis concluded his first ever Muggle duelling lesson. Sirius had honestly enjoyed it, and for the first time in years, he'd received homework. But this time, it was something he really, really wanted to do. No amount of work was too much if it meant helping Harry.
Now, Sirius and Sturgis were sitting in the kitchen. There was so much that needed to be said, but Sirius knew that some of it could never be. Words hung in the space between them that could never come out in the open.
Sirius felt like a complete and utter idiot. Yesterday, Kingsley had flooed Sirius to inform him of what Snape had told Sturgis the night before - to be on the lookout for a strange instance that could cause confusion.
Sirius remembered Sylvanus Kettleburn from his own days at Hogwarts. Although not as boring as Binns by any stretch of the imagination, the man didn't seem very satisfied with his job. Sirius had taken Care of Magical Creatures up through the end of fifth year, but hadn't continued it through N.E.W.T. level. Still, it had rather surprised him to learn that the man was vile enough to join Voldemort's ranks.
And yet, even knowing this, Sirius had taken one look at that owl's message and come to the worst possible conclusion - that Sturgis wasn't well, that he was out of his mind, that he was mixing his days up, that it was October 1979 and not September 1995. Because even after it had happened, even after Sturgis was safe and sound and things had gone back to a relatively normal rhythm between them, neither man had discussed those events and there had never been any closure. And Sirius knew that this was why he always looked at Sturgis now with a touch of fear, because the events of sixteen years ago had affected him more than he thought they ever would.
All Sirius could say was, thank Merlin he'd received that message in the book. Because not only had it shown him that he needed to come to terms with what had happened in October 1979 and that things had changed, but now he knew that post-owls, right now, were not a reliable method of communication.
Sturgis looked at Sirius. "Please don't look at me like that. I'm all right." His voice carried the same reassurance it always had. "I never meant to worry you."
"I know." Sirius sighed. "I feel like an idiot. A complete fool," he admitted sheepishly. "I completely forgot about what Kingsley said yesterday about Kettleburn and I ... I assumed that an imposter was at Order Headquarters."
This was all true - upon receiving the message in the book, Sirius had indeed thought such a thing. What he didn't tell Sturgis was the terrible thoughts that had flown through his head upon receiving the owl minutes earlier.
And he was never going to. Though the words lay between them, Sirius knew Sturgis would never bring up 1979, and he wasn't about to, either. It was too painful and the words didn't need to be said.
Sirius knew he had come a long way in his recovery. He knew that it always helped to talk about old wounds, so you could receive closure. Hadn't his therapy sessions with Dixon brought that point home even more? And hadn't Harry healed this summer because he had developed such a bond with Sirius that he felt he could talk to him about absolutely anything?
But somehow, it was different with Sturgis. Sirius didn't know why, but with him, he would go against his own self-discovery. Some things were just too painful to talk about. How he'd felt in that almost sixteen-hour time frame over a decade and a half ago was one of them. And he didn't know why. Perhaps he'd never understand it.
"I'm proud of you, Sirius." Sturgis's words snapped Sirius back to the present. "Don't beat yourself up about it. In fact, you covered all bases by thinking I was an imposter." A familiar grin lit his face for an instant. "After all, you did learn from the best," he added, allowing Sirius to be filled with much better memories.
He remembered laughing at Sturgis's ego. He remembered Sturgis's constant gratitude for the time Sirius was giving him. He remembered always telling Sturgis that he gave it willingly. He remembered that every time Sturgis mentored him and showed him how to be the best Auror he could be, he felt worthwhile. He felt useful. He felt like he could achieve any goal he set his mind to. Sturgis made him feel like he could conquer anything. The past didn't matter. The family he came from didn't matter. His disciplinary record at Hogwarts didn't matter. Because someone was telling him that he was accepted, that he was understood, and that he could, despite his shortcomings, work to make the world a better place.
"Yeah," Sirius said, his trust in Sturgis only being renewed. "I did."
The two men sat in silence for a minute before Sirius spoke again. "I reckon you'd better take Elaina back with you through the Floo network," he said worriedly as the owl in question sipped at the water that had been left out for her. Sturgis, upon his arrival, had told her to stay put during the tutoring session.
"Exactly." Sturgis nodded. "I'm really sorry for the confusion this caused."
"Why in Merlin's name are you sorry?" Sirius asked, once again coming into contact with one of Sturgis's idiosyncracies - he was forever apologizing for things he had no control over. "Now, we just have to figure out what to do. How in Merlin's name do we combat this?"
"Kingsley's already on it," Sturgis replied. "As you know, I was delayed in coming here today because I needed to provide Kingsley with a statement. There's going to be a Ministry bulletin that goes out this afternoon to all workers that will explain the situation. There's also going to be a special edition of the Prophet this evening."
"But the Prophet is delivered by owl!" Sirius exclaimed. "How do we know that it's not going to be a major problem? Have there been any other reports of owls getting lost?"
"That's what I'm about to find out," Sturgis said. "Before what happened this morning, there hadn't been. I'm honestly wondering if it only affected the area the attack took place in on Wednesday night. It seems like a possible explanation, but we still don't want to send owls out right now, no matter where they're located. As far as tonight's Prophet goes, and the ones for the foreseeable future ... that's why they're not going to be delivered by owls. There's also going to be an announcement on the Wizarding Wireless today. There will be several places where witches and wizards will be able to go to pick up their copy of the Prophet, as there will be many other news stories and articles that are not covered in the news given on the Wireless. Thankfully, many people listen to the Wireless, and those who don't will hear about this through word of mouth."
A sudden realization struck Sirius then. "Hogwarts." He looked horrified. "How is anyone going to be able to write to their families?"
At that moment, he knew that, unfortunately, Kettleburn had struck gold by doing this. Communication was one of the most important aspects of life, especially during times like this. He hated to say it, but it was an ingenious move by Kettleburn. It seemed very subtle, but it spoke of much bigger problems on the horizon.
Sturgis nodded, his eyes darkening for a moment, and Sirius suspected he was thinking of Ben. "Kingsley is also contacting Minerva," he responded immediately. "I trust that she will find a way for the students to be in touch with their loved ones."
Sirius thought of Harry, too, and his heart ached for him. Harry always looked forward to his correspondence from Ron and Hermione. Anger filled his heart at the sheer callousness of Voldemort and his supporters - hadn't they already hurt him enough? "We need to get to the bottom of how this was done," he said, unable to disguise the loathing in his voice.
"And we will, Sirius. You have my word," Sturgis said, the look in his eyes taking away any doubt.
Sirius couldn't help what he said next as he continued to hold Sturgis's gaze. "You're ... really okay?" he asked quietly.
Sturgis smiled. "I'm fine, Sirius." His voice was quiet as well. "Yesterday, I ..."
"No. You don't need to explain. It's all right," Sirius said, knowing that he was speaking the complete truth.
Sturgis was still smiling as he made to leave. "We are not defeated," he reminded him. "We have the best witches and wizards on the case. Communication will carry on as normal - it might just be different for a while."
Sirius nodded, knowing that even in difficult circumstances, hope could be found. "We'll see you tonight, then."
"Indeed, you will. We're on," Sturgis said before walking out of the room. In moments, Sirius heard the Floo go off and knew Sturgis was gone.
It was one of the days of the Second War which Sirius Black would never forget.