Black Days
The Order
"The old crowd."
Dumbledore's words buzz around his head. Sirius feels guilty for leaving Harry but he knows that he understands. Sirius is needed to help Dumbledore to reestablish the Order of the Phoenix. He charges in dog form from Hogwarts, snatching glimpses of the lake, Hagrid's hut, the forest blurring by in a motion of colour and sound. Sirius knows exactly what to do, where to go to first - who to go to first.
He chooses to travel into Hogsmeade to Floo instead of Disapparating, he hates the nauseous kick you get in your stomach from it. Floo powder isn't perfect, not by a stretch, but it's certainly preferrable to retching up his last meal of burnt rat; he'd been constantly imagining that each and every one of the vermin was Peter Pettigrew, although if Peter were close enough, he'd be doing a lot worse than merely eating him.
Sirius breaks the border into the wizarding village and he knows he can take his pick of any the houses, any of them will have a fireplace connected to the Floo Network. It's a lot easier than what he is used to; carefully watching homes for wizarding families, waiting for them to leave so he can sneak in to use their fire and contact Harry.
He settles for returning to the Hog's Head. Anywhere personally recommended by Dumbledore is surely a safe bet and for once, he is not in the mood to court trouble. The air is still saturated with the threat he felt earlier in the cave but he supposes everywhere will feel like that now, for as long as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named lives.
As he runs to the pub, he spots his cave in the distance, suddenly remembering Buckbeak. He makes a mental note to tell Dumbledore as soon as possible; he's grown rather fond of the hippogriff, his travelling partner these past few years. They've come to have an understanding of one another, Sirius often thinks that Buckbeak is far too intelligent for his own good but they have a mutual trust and respect and it would be treachery to abandon him now, after all they have been through together.
At the edge of the village, he nudges open the back door with his nose and transforms once again into a human, turning back to look at the night sky. He can hear the landlord's snoring and he relaxes, grateful for the easiness of his task, happy that he will not have to resort to the use of his wand.
Before grabbing a handful of the Floo powder from the mantelpiece, his peripheral catches sight of the portrait hung above the fire. The young girl in the painting waves shyly at him and he spares a small smile for her, throwing the powder into the flames so that they glow green, staining the room in a shade of chartreuse. He's careful to stoop his head when he steps into the fire, for fear of banging it off the mantelpiece, and resists the desire to choke on the ash that fills his mouth no sooner has he done it.
"Remus John Lupin's - fellow Marauder, occasional werewolf!"
Sirius shuts his eyes to ward off the disconcerting spin of Floo travel, feeling a pleasant heat fan across his cheeks as he flies past fireplace after fireplace. When he starts to slow, he braces himself, flinging his arms out at the last minute, knowing that it will be an inelegant arrival.
He emerges, coughing and spluttering, on his knees and covered head to toe in soot and ash, on the wooden floor of one Remus Lupin. Almost instantly, a man rushes forward from the shadows of the room, his frail figure wrapped up in a thin, flannel dressing gown.
Sirius feels hands on his shoulders, sweeping at his back, dusting the fireplace grime from his hair and face.
"Sirius? Is that you? Why are you - what's going on?"
"Remus - Remus, he's back."
The depth of inflection and fear within Sirius' voice is enough for him to ask no questions, to leave him without a shadow of a doubt to whom he is referring. Remus' fingers suddenly clutch at the shirt on Sirius' back, nails pinching skin, before releasing their grip as quickly as they had latched on. He stumbles away from his friend, still braced on hands and knees on his floor, and collapses into the only armchair within the room.
A shaky hand covers his face as he gathers his thoughts, giving himself a moment to appreciate the weight of the news before reverting back to his role as the steady one, the voice of reason and propriety. It will be what Sirius will need, there will be plenty of time afterwards to respond appropriately to the information in his own company.
"I expect Dumbledore has sent you." he finally musters, managing to sound remarkably undaunted by Sirius' announcement.
Sirius nods, his eyes on the floor. He hasn't moved an inch.
"He used Harry, Remus. He used Harry to come back. I should have been nearby, I knew something bad was going to happen. I should have been there to help him and - "
"And you would have got yourself thrown into Azkaban again. Do not beat yourself up, Sirius, it is done. We must focus on what to do now. I imagine Dumbledore has given you instructions?"
"Yes. To alert the others - the old crowd, he said."
"Well, let me just get changed. We can Disapparate at the same time."
Sirius is quiet for a moment,"...what?"
"You don't expect me to travel by the Floo Network, do you? Not in my condition!" Remus teases. Despite meeting again on such a grave occasion, he is genuinely overjoyed to see his friend after parting during the most trying of times. Weeks after, Remus had deliberated frantically over sending Sirius a letter of apology but these things are better said when spoken aloud.
His joke misses its target and falls flat, leaving Remus pink from chagrin, fiddling with the tie on his dressing gown so that he can focus on that instead of the man opposite him. Sirius finally rises to his feet, slightly unsteady but as graceful as he can be. He cocks his head at Remus and looks at him through squinted eyes, taking in the shadows beneath his lashes and the unmistakable bleariness of one who has just awoke.
"You want to come with me? It's getting late, you should probably rest. I can do this by myself."
There's an awkwardness between the pair. Their last meeting was ended abruptly; the full moon had interrupted their previous reunion and Remus had lost all sense of himself. Sirius had been captured, then escaped, all before the morning had broken and Remus returned to a more coherent state of mind, leaving them with no chance for parting words. Remus hopes he did not hurt Sirius badly when he was in his wolf state, or that his years of living under the misapprehension of Sirius being guilty has not affected him too deeply.
They had spoken briefly of their mistakes in the Shrieking Shack before Harry, Ron and Hermione, and although they have certainly forgiven each other of their falsehoods, it cannot be resolved and undone so swiftly, not even by the magic of a time-turner.
Remus fixes Sirius with a stern look, "If anyone needs rest, it's you, Sirius. Forgive me but you look terrible. You surely don't think that I would let you do this alone, do you?"
"Well, I - I - no."
"Exactly. Besides, " he adds, with the ghost of a smile. "You forget that Alastor Moody is part of that 'old crowd'. Call me masochistic, but I for one would love to see his face when Sirius Black, mass murderer and escaped prisoner, shows up on his doorstep."
"Merlin's Beard, Remus, he's spent a good part of the year locked away in a trunk! They apprehended the culprit just this night, Moody's probably on his way to St Mungos as we speak. Last I knew, he was in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts."
Remus' face lights up with surprise but he recovers before it shows too much. He has not been in regular contact with Sirius since they last met; Sirius has kept his communication with others relatively low to avoid attention - except for Harry, of course. Still, it stings Remus to know he is out of the loop, especially when everything that has happened has concerned James and Lily's only child.
It calls to mind the way his friends had distanced themselves from him during Voldemort's reign, of the lonely nights holed up in his small flat - courtesy of James, an ostentatious gift - and wondering whether any of them would make it through the year. He hadn't seen the Potter's for months and Peter had all but vanished, even Sirius' visits had become less frequent, evermore brief and cold. There had been no more late night conversations with him, no more whispered confessions of being afraid in his moon-drenched bedroom, lying side by side on the collapsed mattress and pretending they were still at school, everything softer and manageable in the darkness.
Sirius had stopped coming altogether in the end, only weeks away from James and Lily's deaths. Remus hadn't learnt the reason why until seeing him again in the Shrieking Shack.
They must learn from their blunders of the past and have faith in one another, as they used to, before the first war began and they were pointing fingers of suspicion at each other. Perhaps Peter has ruined more than they even thought.
"Again, your memory does not serve you well, my friend. When has Alastor ever trusted anything outside of his own judgement? I guarantee he is at home, mixing up some ghastly quick fix potion," Remus says, hesitating on his way to the foot of the stairs. "Although, maybe we should leave Alastor for last and give him some hours to get over the worst? He'll probably jinx us out of the street if we show up in the middle of the night. Till then, we can go to the others, and you can tell me exactly what has been happening at Hogwarts."
Sirius appears nonchalant as he crams his hands into his pockets to wait, but beneath his indifferent front he is glad to have Remus joining him, for him to throw himself so wholeheartedly into the job at hand - he is glad that, despite everything, he never really had to ask.
Wisteria Walk, Little Whinging is bathed in a cool darkness, chillier than what the time of year may suggest. Remus shivers slightly in his woolen cardigan, having grossly underestimated the temperature as he dressed, while a shaggy black dog beside him shakes out its fur and bounds forward a few steps, glancing back with a lolling, pink tongue, tail wagging energetically.
"I know I'm usually the one to exercise caution but I believe you are quite safe for the present, Sirius. It's currently - " Remus breaks off, leaning in to check the watch at his wrist. " - coming up to midnight and I doubt the muggles with be pressing their faces to their windows to see Sirius Black outside. Arabella keeps cats and I don't think she'll be too pleased to have a dog, although as impressive as yourself, in their company."
The dog tilts its head at Remus but Sirius does not need to be told twice. He savours every opportunity he can get to walk about the streets as his human self, for that always rare excuse to feel like a free man again.
"Right, better? Excellent. Arabella's is this one, I believe." Remus says, stopping at the end of the driveway.
The house in unremarkable, much like the others within Little Whinging, Surrey. They are all built to look identical, all homing unwitting muggle families who have no concept of Lord Voldemort, or even precisely what a Voldemort is. That is, all except one. The residents are ignorant to the fact that a squib - that is to say, someone born into a wizarding family but without magical abilities - is living alongside them.
They cannot know that Arabella Figg, the person in question, has provided her services to the Order of the Phoenix since the first wizarding war, and is held in the highest regard by one of the most renowned wizards of their time, Albus Dumbledore, as well as being thought of as an esteemed member of the Order. It is for this purpose which we find Remus and Sirius stood at her very doorstep, ringing the bell in trepidation.
"I would ready yourself..." Remus says pointedly, inclining his head to the house just as the hallway light flashes on. "I rather think she hasn't changed since we last saw her."
When Mrs Figg opens the door, brandishing an umbrella in one hand, grey hair half tucked into a hairnet and feet clad in tartan slippers, she expects teenagers to be pranking her. She is ready to see an empty doorstep and hear the boozy guffaws of the delinquents echoing from down the road - she's had many of these attempts over the years, targeted because of her eccentricity, something she has gotten used to because she is here on Dumbledore's orders, to keep an eye on the Potter boy. She will give as good as she gets because she will not be sidetracked by muggle miscreants, not when she is entrusted a job of the utmost importance.
What she does not expect to see are the two wizards stood before her.
"This is hardly the time for house calls! Remus, is it? Remus Lupin? And...Merlin's Beard, Sirius Black!" she cries with wide eyes, umbrella clattering to the floor, making to shut the door in their faces.
Sirius shoves a foot against the frame before she manages it, palm flat against the door, a broad grin on his face, "Now don't be like that, Figg, I'm here on business."
Arabella Figg's face turns thunderous and instead pulls the door open wider, pointing a trembling finger to Sirius, his expression bemused as she yells, "Mr Tibbles! Tufty! Snowy! Mr Paws!"
Streaks of fur, shades of orange and grey and white, pounce on him, small pinpricks of pain embedding themselves into his skin. He flails, his arms propelling hopelessly to keep himself upright, before he topples onto the ground, feeling bristles of cat hair sweep across his arms and tails whipping into his face. With watering eyes, Sirius appeals for Remus' help.
"Remus! Get these things off me, Remus!"
"Oh dear, " Remus says, barely containing his amusement as Sirius rolls about before the porch, hands scrabbling to gain purchase on at least one of the cats scratching at his body. Taking pity on him, he turns to Mrs Figg reluctantly, "Please, Arabella, we're here because of Dumbledore. If you could call off your cats, we'll be more than happy to explain. I promise that Sirius is not about to murder you."
She narrows her eyes, "Dumbledore, you say?"
"I swear on my life. Just let us come in and we'll go over everything."
She appraises them; Sirius writhing around on the floor and covered in her cats, and Remus in his fraying cardigan, pale and composed in the moonlight. She peers up at it, the moon, noting that it is not quite full, and snaps her chin down in a sharp nod. Dumbledore keeps unusual company, herself included, and yet his instincts are often correct. If she cannot rely on Remus Lupin's word at least, she shall certainly rely on Dumbledore's.
"Well, alright then, but if I catch a whiff of anything fishy from him then I'm setting the cats on you again - both of you. Now come in, you're letting the heat out." she snaps, whistling through her teeth; the cats jump off of Sirius almost as soon as they hear it, trailing behind Mrs Figg as she reenters the house.
Remus holds out a hand to Sirius, who takes it after throwing a savage look at the retreating back of Mrs Figg.
"She's completely barmy."
"She's also a valuable asset to the Order." Remus reminds him, leading the way into the hallway.
"Could have fooled me..." Sirius mutters under his breath.
Inside, they politely ignore the distinct cabbage odour that seems to be permeating throughout the entire house, and obey her commands to take off their shoes before setting foot into the front room. After declining a rather waspish offer of tea, they perch themselves on the floral patterned settee, trying not to squash the cats resting there, Sirius albeit gingerly. He prods at Snowy with the manner of one approaching something quite detestable, until taking a swipe of indignant claws from the creature in question and holding up his hands in offended defeat.
"Now what's this about? If it's anything to do with that lousy oaf Mundungus Fletcher, then I want no part of it. He tried to sell me powdered unicorn horn just last week - now I know that it was just crushed up black market Erumpent horn, I'm surprised it didn't explode in his pocket. What am I going to do with unicorn horn anyway? I'm a squib, it's not like I can knock up a potion!"
Remus and Sirius share a glance, before Sirius sits back, accidentally knocking off a crocheted arm-rest cover. Remus takes this as an indication for him to talk.
"Er, no, actually. No, it's not about Mundungus - speaking of which, we should probably visit him next," he adds in a low voice, turning to Sirius. Remus raises his voice again. "Actually, Dumbledore sent us, specifically Sirius. You see, something happened tonight. It might come as a shock so I think you should prepare yourself for this, Arabella, because - "
"Voldemort is back."
Mrs Figg starts at the name. Remus glares reproachfully at Sirius, who shrugs out a half-hearted apology.
"You were taking too long." he tells Remus.
The crabbiness falls away from Arabella Figg, leaving her small and shrunken, appearing for all the world as the frail old women she pretends to be for the Dursley's and her muggle neighbours. Her hand seeks out her closest cat and she pulls him, Mr Tibbles, onto her lap, stroking him between the ears as she gnaws on her bottom lip.
"Back? Are you certain?"
"Absolutely. Harry Potter - my godson - he saw him come back. Dumbledore is reinstating the Order, he specifically asked for you. I'm here to tell you to keep on your guard and be aware for any signs from Dumbledore, he'll probably be in touch with you shortly himself."
Mrs Figg tugs nervously at her hairnet, heedless of its crooked angle. "Oh dear, oh dear. You say Dumbledore asked for me personally?"
Sirius nods, recoiling at Mr Paws rubbing himself across his side. He makes a face and Remus bites back the urge to scold him, concrentrating on Mrs Figg. She seems to be lifted by the knowledge that Dumbledore has asked for her to be included.
"We're sorry to have disturbed you so late, Arabella, especially with this news. Should we let ourselves out?"
"Yes - yes, alright," she murmurs, watching Sirius fumble with the crocheted cover as he tries to slide it back onto the arm rest. Her voice suddenly finds its bite again. "And if you see that Mundungus Fletcher around, you tell him from me to keep his thieving hands away from Little Whinging!"
After assuring her that they will pass on the message, they slink into the hallway to don their shoes, Sirius cautiously edging around Tufty, before finding themselves in the weakly lit streets again. Clouds blanket the sky and somewhere a few miles off, thunder grumbles.
"Well, all things considered, I think that went quite well, don't you?" Remus asks, drawing his cardigan tight around his shoulders.
Sirius scowls darkly, pulling out his wand to heal the cuts on his arms, "Easy for you to say. You weren't mauled half to death by her hybrid kneazle-cats."
"Yes, well, I suppose Dumbledore could have sent an owl to let the necessary people know that you're not going to burst into their homes and kill them on sight but he has a lot to be going on with. It's best that he focuses his attention on Harry."
"Yeah, Harry should be the most - wait," he says, staring off down the road. "This is where his muggle family live, isn't it?"
Remus is already answering, not realising his error. "Yes, yes I think it is but what's -"
Sirius Black is already storming away, heading directly for Privet Drive. He knows the address, knows it off by heart from writing his letters to Harry, and by the time Remus has caught up, clutching a stitch in his side, Sirius has his wand in hand and is a foot away from the door.
"Sirius!" Remus hisses, pulling him back by the shoulder. "You can't just crash in there and threaten them with your wand, you'll scare them to death! You'll wake the neighbourhood!"
"Good! Those muggles have been little better than Death Eaters to Harry! I say we turn the tables on them and - "
"You never think of the ramifications, do you? You'll be making things ten times harder for Harry when he comes back here. Think of all he's seen, what he's been through. These people aren't going to care about any of it -"
"All the more reason to hex them." Sirius says stubbornly.
"No, it's not. Sirius, if you go in there and - and - oh, I don't know, turn them all into hamsters, they'll be foul to Harry! They'll be worse than they already are. He won't need that, not now, not after this year."
Sirius tips back his head and drags fingers through knotty hair, releasing a small groan of annoyance and admittance. Remus is right, as always, and he can't let himself be responsible for these muggles making Harry's life harder than it already is. He gazes up at the curtain-drawn windows of 4 Privet Drive.
"If only Harry were in there..." Sirius says wistfully.
"I daresay you'll see him again soon enough." Remus points out gently. "Let's- let's head back to Arabella's and we can Disapparate from there. We still need to find Mundungus."
At these words, Sirius snaps out of his stupour and laughs, eye twinkling with humour. "Oh, don't worry about that. If I know Dung, he'll be in a pub. I can narrow it down to about three possibilities. Well, come on then, I need to get this muggle house out of my sight before I rethink doing something drastic."
Remus hangs back and messes with the unravelled edge of his sleeve, "I'll be there in a minute, I just need to, er, retie my shoelace."
Sirius looks at him quizzically but nonetheless begins to return to Wisteria Walk. Remus waits a minute before glancing around the deserted street, watching Sirius' sloping figure heading back to Arabella Figg's house.
When he is quite sure that Sirius has disappeared from view, he kneels on the evenly clipped grass alongside the hydrangea bush beneath the window of the Dursley's. Without ceremony, he pulls a wand from his pocket and mutters an inaudible spell; almost instantly, the flowerbeds begin to shrivel and wilt and the grass dries to an unpleasant shade of yellow. Only feeling a little guilty, Remus admires his handiwork before tiptoing away from Privet Drive.
If only Sirius could have been there to hear Petunia Dursley's screams of mirth when she discovers her precious garden the next day, inexplicably dead overnight.
The air cracks as two men Apparate into Diagon Alley, though none nearby would hear it from the thunder that still growls overhead. The cobbled lane patters with the sound of rainfall and the men rush past the closed shops, arms over their heads and feet kicking up puddles.
This is the third pub that they are trying. They have already been to the Three Broomsticks, arriving only just before it closed for the night, and they even ventured to the Hog's Head although Sirius knows for a fact that Mundungus is barred from there. Remus has been going in alone as Sirius waits outside as a dog, but he despises loud, crowded rooms and he shies away from putting himself forward. When he stepped into the Hog's Head, a goblin had eyed him from its seat in a corner booth, even as Remus scanned the pub as quickly as he could, shaking off the prickly feeling of hairs standing up on the back of his neck. He was watched until he hurried out of the door again.
Together, they approach the Leaky Cauldron and Remus is earnest that this shall be their last attempt.
"Look, if he's not in there, then I really think we should head home. We'll go to Moody's in the morning and then maybe we can give Mundungus another shot but I'm telling you now that I refuse to enter another pub tonight!"
"Come on, Moony, where's your sense of adventure?"
"I think I lost it somewhere after the Three Broomsticks, when that old witch tried to buy me a pint of mulled mead. I told her I was in rather a rush and she all but threw the glass at my head." he says stiffly as Sirius cracks up.
The sign to the tavern creaks above their heads, swinging in the wind as the storm picks up. The Leaky Cauldron, although late in hour, is still a jumble of laughing and shouts and singing, and Remus is completely miserable at the thought of going in there. He sighs heavily, casting a quick charm to siphon heat from the tip of his wand, and dries his clothes beneath the roof of the porch so that he looks less like he's been lurking in the rain all night.
Sirius shifts into the black dog and gives Remus' hand a friendly nip of encouragement, nudging him by the nose to force him closer to the entrance.
"Yes, yes, I'm going. You just - sit."
He does exactly that, as still as a statue, illuminated only in a patch of lamp light that shines from the windows of the Leaky Cauldron as he waits for Remus. When it feels as if an age has passed since Remus entered the pub, Sirius starts to fret over his extended absence. He's already formulated several plans of action to rescue his friend when the din grows louder as the door groans open, and Remus is once again by his side.
"Well, " Remus announces grimly, blinking the rain from out his eyes. "He's in there alright, and he's drunk on firewhiskey. He was telling an extraordinarily tasteless joke to anyone that would listen. Crude even for his standards, I might add."
"What was the joke about?" Sirius presses, raising his eyebrows expectantly, handsome face all angles and shadows, overridden with exhilaration.
Whenever Sirius is like this - when he's giddy - Remus is deeply abashed at his ability to forget Sirius' indisputable struggles. The fact of the matter is, Sirius hardly lets on that he's suffering at all. He makes light of most events, particularly those pertaining to his own life, and it's easy to contentedly laugh away the time spent with him because he makes it so - Remus forgets even his own troubles when Sirius is near. There's a selfishness in Remus that rejoices at having such a friend, the sort who buoys you up rather than drags you down.
"If you must know, it was about a mermaid and a grindylow but I'm not going into it." Remus says drily, stifling a yawn.
"Oh! I know that one! A mermaid wanders into some reeds, right, and the grindylow - "
"No, I've heard it once already, thank you very much. I needn't hear it again. You better step into the covers - yes, like that, people are coming out. I think it's last orders, finally."
A gaggle of witches and wizards step out into the rain, tutting at the turn in weather. A few nod their heads to Remus, standing out in the open before them, although most sneak glances at him from the corner of their eyes, curious and mistrustful that he should be skulking out here and not inside, where drinks were to be had and merriment was in abundance. The news of Voldemort's return has not yet reached the ears of the public.
Remus scans the group as they head their separate ways but none of them are Mundungus.
"He's still in there. Do you reckon we should pick this up again in the morning when Mundungus is, er, a little more aware of his surroundings."
"No, let's just wait a little longer. If Dung is too intoxicated, he'll sleep in this very gutter, I promise you."
"Can't be long now," Remus guesses, looking at his watch again. "Tom must be struggling to kick Mundungus out."
"Ah well, Dung can be very persuasive when he wants to be."
Just as Sirius is speaking the words, a grubby man with scraggly hair staggers from the pub, shouting profanities at the top of his lungs. Tom, the bartender at the Leaky Cauldron, is framed in the light from inside and flaps his arms in exasperation. With a sweep of his wand, the door slams shut between him and Mundungus, the locks magically sliding and clunking into place. Mundungus is too concerned with being thrown out of the pub to spot Remus just a few steps away.
Remus coughs.
"'Ere, it's Ra-Rum-Romeo!"
"Close. Remus, actually. It's been a while, Mundungus."
"Yeah, yeah! That's right! You're that werewolf bloke, ain't you? 'Ow you doin', mate?" Mundungus slurs, wringing Remus' hand with vigour. "I haven' seen you since, blimey...it's bin years."
Sirius is obscured by the shadows, watching the exchange with fascinated enjoyment. Although he would never admit to it, he knows that Remus has a dislike for Mundungus.
Since their introduction during the first war when they both joined up to be in the Order, Mundungus greeted Remus by howling at him in a poor imitation of what he must have thought a wolf sounded like. On Remus' part, after that ordeal, there has never been a strong desire to know him better; he used to cringe inwardly at being partnered with him on missions for the Order, which happened more times than he'd have liked - he was sure it was Dumbledore's idea of a joke, perhaps hoping for them to bond. Remus never grumbled about it but he was more than happy to see the back of Mundungus after a night's shift.
Remus pulls his hand free from the other man's grip, flexing his fingers to bring some feeling back to them. His gaze flickers to Sirius in warning, then back to Mundungus again.
"Oh, I'm perfectly alright, thank you. There is actually someone else here I'd like you to meet, though. If you would kindly step out..."
Sirius, all too willing, makes a show of his reveal, dramatically leaping out from his hiding place to make his presence known. Mundungus reacts splendidly, precisely how Sirius had thought he would, and crashes into the bins outside of the pub, raising up a stir. A stray cat darts away down the street, leaving Sirius cackling with laughter and Mundungus flabbergasted in a heap, expired frogspawn and potion residue in his lap. A hole starts to singe away at his trousers and he taps it mindlessly with his wand, only to produce a thick haze of smoke.
"Bleedin' hell, Sirius! I thought you was on the run!" he chokes, spluttering at his smoking trousers. "Them dementors not caught up with you yet?"
Sirius produces his own wand and clears up the damage to Mundungus' trousers with a lazy flick. "It warms my heart, Dung, to know you care. I need a word with you though, mate."
Mundungus squints up at them with bloodshot eyes, looking between Sirius and Remus. A noise bleats from his mouth, half hiccough and half burp, the sound so revolting that Remus wrinkles his nose in disgust.
"You two aren't goin' to kill me, are you? See, I got a fing tomorrow, got a man to meet about a promising lookin' broomstick - don't s'pose either of you are interested? Knock off price for you, if you are."
"'fraid not, Dung, " Sirius says breezily, crouching down to the same eye level as him. "Thing is, Voldemort is back - "
Mundungus flinches violently, frogspawn squelching onto his hand but Sirius pushes on.
" - and Dumbledore is starting up the Order again. He's going to be in contact with you, so keep your eyes peeled."
He shakes his head slowly but firmly, as if trying to clear the fog of alcohol from his brain, patting his pockets with fidgety fingers. He removes a pipe and raises it to his lips to clamp between his teeth but then looks up at the sky and seems to suddenly notice the rain.
"Fancy that, it's rainin'. Probably a bad sign." he says, scratching at his red hair. "Definitely a a bad sign."
Sirius glances up at the clouds too. "Yes, well, we've already been to see Arabella Figg. She says you're to stay away from Little Whinging, by the way."
The man's face perks up at the mention of a familiar name.
"You seen ol' Figgy? Di'n' say nothing about tha' unicorn horn, did she? Only, I'm tryin' to shift it. Ten Galleons, if you fancy it? Or I 'ave this 'ere Sneakoscope, I can do it for you for- "
"Sorry, mate, we're not looking to buy. Have you listened to anything I've said, Dung? About Dumbledore and the Order, that he'll be in touch?"
Mundungus, it transpires, has fallen asleep, nestled between the bins and litter, pipe dangling loosely from his lips.
"You know, I'm not sure he'll remember this in the morning, he'll probably think we were an unsavoury dream." Sirius ponders, standing up and brushing a glob of frog spawn from his shirt. "Let me just cast something, to keep him dry."
He looks down at Mundungus with something close to affection. "He had some brilliant stories when we got paired up on those missions the first time around. There was one where he got mixed up with a vampire in Devon. He had Dung cornered, and Dung being an idiot tried to cast Lumos in a panic, to try and scare him off. Trouble is, he said 'Lumios' instead and had his wand pointed backwards - his skin was glowing orange for weeks afterwards."
"I believe I can remember that one, " Remus says, shaking dripping hair from his eyes. "Do you think we should move him?"
"Nah, he can look after himself. Either way, once Dumbledore is involved then Dung can't say no, he'd do anything for him. I think we're done here."
"Home?" Remus asks pleadingly as they take off down Diagon Alley.
Sirius takes in his friend; soaked through to the skin, his cardigan hanging heavy off his slender frame and the sleeves down past his knuckles, Remus looks as if he's taken a swim in the lake at Hogwarts. Sirius admits to himself that the idea of a nice, warm fire and the prospect of dry clothes sounds more than appealing and he's happy to oblige Remus.
"Home." he agrees, although the word tastes strange on his tongue.
He's not so sure he has anywhere he can call home these days.
Sirius and Remus are standing outside a semi detached house. They've remained like this for the past ten minutes, staring in apprehension at the inoffensive home. It's exterior represents perfect ordinariness but it's not the house itself that they are worried over. It's the man inside.
"I think you should go and knock on the door." Sirius finally says.
Remus stammers, "What?! Why should I do it?"
"Because you're more likable than I am, " Sirius says sagely, turning to him. "And you haven't been convicted of murdering a whole street full of people."
"I'm a werewolf, Sirius. I think we're pretty evenly matched in the stakes for most hated. Besides, you didn't do it!"
"Well, he doesn't know that, does he!"
Remus rolls his eyes and tugs at the sleeve of his dusty jacket, stalling. He knows that he cannot evade Sirius' demands for long, he's never had the strength to refuse him, not even at Hogwarts. Then again, he can't imagine anyone refusing Sirius of anything - he could ask you to strip down and run through Gringott's, and you would do it because he has the uncanny knack of persuasion. If he'd had the chance, Remus would have pestered Sirius to go into politics, he would have made a formidable Minister for Magic.
"Don't you think Dumbledore already spoke to him of this?" Remus challenges, warily glancing at the windows of the house. "If he was in the hospital wing, then - "
"I thought Dumbledore would have had enough to be going on with, Remus. Moody probably broke out and got himself home before Dumbledore had the chance."
Sighing heavily, Remus gives in. Throwing Sirius a look of utter contempt, he draws himself up to full height and marches steadfastly to the front gate, reaching over to unbolt it. No sooner has his fingers brushed against the lock, a magical gust sweeps by him - through him - and he's hanging in the air, dangling upside down by his feet, from nothing the human eye can perceive.
He flounders, hands moving fervently to grab anything escaping his pockets. He's too slow to catch his wand and it bounces off the pavement, sending green sparks shooting out from the tip.
"It's a good look for you, Moony!" Sirius howls, clutching at his side in hilarity. "You'd make a charming bat."
"I'm glad you're having fun, really, but would it be too much of a bother for you to help me down?"
Sirius approaches, still grinning, reaching up to grasp Remus' extended hand. He gives him a gentle pull but Remus only moves a fraction, bobbing for a split second.
"Huh." Sirius frowns, shaking hair from his face and taking hold of Remus' arm with both hands. He yanks down hard, using his weight as leverage.
"OUCH! Would you be careful! Keep in mind that I AM attached to the arm you're trying to pull off."
Sirius aims a bashful smile at his friend, "Sorry, it's just this is a strong charm. I'm impressed."
Overhead and lost in his jacket, Remus groans.
"Perfect! Why on earth would anyone place a spell like this on a garden gate? Think of his muggle neighbours! This has to be breaking at least ten different wizarding laws."
"Doesn't affect muggles." growls a voice from behind them. "Only works on wizards, see?"
They both turn to look in the direction of where the voice has come from - Remus flapping about above - and find Alastor Moody observing them, leaning heavily on a crutch. Dressed down in a stained nightshirt, his scarred face is unreadable, a blank hole where his magical eye should be. He watches them with his one good eye, gnarled and imposing even in his sleepwear.
"Who're you? What are you doing here? Thought you'd have the common decency to let me rest after what I've been through this year."
"Dumbledore sent us!" Remus cries through a mouthful of jacket. "We didn't know if he'd told you."
"Told me what? Spit it out, boy, I'm not inclined to stay out here much longer."
"About the Order, " Sirius speaks up, stepping around Remus and coming into full view. "Dumbledore is bringing back the Order. I trust you know the reason why, you were an integral part of the plot."
Moody turns his attention on Sirius, realisation dawning across his contorted face.
"Black!" he snarls, wand out in the beat of a heart.
Sirius barely has time to say, "Oh, for - " before being knocked onto his back by a blast. Crumpled in a heap, he hears the clunk of Moody's wooden leg moving closer, then the bellow of an incantation.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Sirius entire body seizes up and he's left immobile on the ground, only able to listen to Remus' protestations to Moody.
"Wait, stop! Alastor, Sirius isn't what you think he is! Contact Dumbledore, he'll tell you the truth! Sirius is innocent."
"Why should I believe that? The way I see it, now that the Dark Lord is back, he'll send his most loyal followers to get me! He knows I'm weak!"
In his head, Sirius thinks that if this is Moody in a weakened state, he'd rather not see him in his prime.
"Just - just let me down. I'll show you Sirius isn't a supporter of You-Know-Who!" Remus begs, his movement causing a few forgotten peppermints to slip from his pockets and through his fingers, clattering off the floor. "If we were going to attack you, do you really think we would be using the front gate!"
"Right, " Moody mumbles, shuffling closer to Remus' hanging body. "I'll let you down but I will jinx you if you - "
"Try anything funny. Yes, I understand."
Moody points his wand at Remus who, to his credit, only looks slightly anxious by being at the ex-Auror's mercy. Moody waves his wand, left to right, over Remus, who is quite powerless when the soles of his shoes feel like they're beginning to peel away from something invisible. He hasn't even a minute to think when he realises what is happening, dropping like a stone onto the pavement below, thudding an elbow off a cracked muggle garden gnome.
"Sorry, lad, should have warned you."
Remus stands, wincing, "No, it's alright, no harm done. At least not to me."
Moody limps over to inspect the gnome Remus has pointed out, affronted as he grimaces at the offending garden accessory.
"Damn muggles, they keep tipping their rubbish onto my lawn. The Ministry made me lift all those charms I'd placed around my house, to stop the bins attacking everyone." he says, picking it up and throwing it over the garden wall. "Those gnomes are probably spying on me. Bugged, see?"
"Yes, er - the matter at hand then? Look - may I, Sirius? " Remus says, kneeling down to roll up the sleeves of Sirius, who widens his eyes to grant him permission. "No Dark Mark. Don't you think he'd have one, if he really were one of Voldemort's men? He brands them all, Moody, you know this."
"Yeah, well..." Moody says, moving a step closer. "Got something I'd like to try out for myself. You better stay still, boy, or I can't promise what I'll do."
Moody lifts the full body bind spell, then without warning, raps his wand sharply at Sirius' face, tip smacking him on the bridge of his nose. Sirius' face fills red, a line working from his chin up to his hairline, before draining back to his regular complexion again in a matter of seconds.
"ARGH! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"
"A little spell, to check for any concealment charms." Moody grimaces, displeased at the lack of effect his spell has had. "Looks like you're clear..."
"What, not going to try anything else? Veritaserum?" Sirius snaps, roughly scrubbing at his nose. "Or maybe you're feeling rebellious today, perhaps the Cruciatus Curse will help."
Moody narrows his eyes, "Haven't got any Veritaserum, otherwise I'd have used it already. I don't mess around with the Unforgivable Curses, boy! "
Remus' looks between the two wizards in panic, arms nervously jumping at his sides, ready to throw himself between them if necessary. He looks over his shoulder, to the street, worried over the ever-present threat of muggles nearby.
Sirius seems to be thinking along the same lines, "So are we done with your little experiments? Or do you want us all to be arrested for exposing ourselves to muggles?"
"It's not too late for me to change my mind about you!" Moody roars, brandishing his wand.
"Right, well, about the Order - " Remus says, purposely stepping in front of Sirius, blocking him from Moody's view.
"Oh, that. Yeah, Dumbledore already mentioned it to me. Looks like you wasted a trip." Moody grumbles, clunking back off into his house.
Sirius watches Moody until the end of his nightshirt whips behind the door, then turns to Remus, his voice strained with the forced effort of trying to keep it level. His hands shake as he gets to his feet, nabbing Remus' abandoned wand from a patch of weeds to hand back to its owner.
"Moony?"
"...yes?"
"We need to leave now. I'm perilously close to being an idiot."
"Okay. Let's find an alley to Disapparate from, it's getting on in the day." Remus suggests, leading the way from Alastor Moody's.
Sirius is white faced, jumpy, as they march past hedgerows and parked cars. He hadn't known what to expect when Dumbledore had sent him from Hogwarts on his task but as he thinks over it, he never quite anticipated such animosity from people he had fought alongside, fought against Voldemort with. These people were his family, along with James and Lily, and for them to have decided so candidly that he had betrayed them all, to be associated with the very man who has brought all this destruction into their lives, does not sit so comfortably with him.
He voices these concerns to Remus, who responds with mindful words that do not vanquish his disquietude altogether, but at least pacifies it.
"This was never going to be simple. They've had fourteen years worth of the Daily Prophet heralding you as Voldemort's number one, they'll all need convincing. I expect they'll still have their doubts until Dumbledore backs us up. It won't be long now, they'll see the truth soon."
"You know, " Sirius begins, tiredly rubbing at a headache in his temple. "Being Voldemort's favourite little Death Eater isn't all it's cracked up to be."
Together, Remus and Sirius work their way through visiting as many original Order members as they can, their reactions to seeing Sirius growing increasingly severe; Emmeline Vance actually fainted at the sight of Sirius' face, who was still angry from his encounter with Moody, and when she came to, had to be consoled by Remus for the entire duration of their time with her, and Dedalus Diggle kept dropping his hat and gawping open mouthed even long after they had left his company.
"I'm beginning to think that Dumbledore hasn't thought this through." Sirius says, nettled, after being knocked onto his rear for the sixth time that day. "It's as if Voldemort himself has shown up on their doorsteps!"
When they finally arrive back at Remus', fatigued and in mild pain from all the defensive spells they've had used on them - Sirius had to hand it to Sturgis Podmore, who cast a most inspiring Impediment jinx, which stopped him from moving for almost a whole minute - they ignore their grumbling stomachs in favour of the promise of a much deserved rest.
Dumbledore's words buzz around his head. Sirius feels guilty for leaving Harry but he knows that he understands. Sirius is needed to help Dumbledore to reestablish the Order of the Phoenix. He charges in dog form from Hogwarts, snatching glimpses of the lake, Hagrid's hut, the forest blurring by in a motion of colour and sound. Sirius knows exactly what to do, where to go to first - who to go to first.
He chooses to travel into Hogsmeade to Floo instead of Disapparating, he hates the nauseous kick you get in your stomach from it. Floo powder isn't perfect, not by a stretch, but it's certainly preferrable to retching up his last meal of burnt rat; he'd been constantly imagining that each and every one of the vermin was Peter Pettigrew, although if Peter were close enough, he'd be doing a lot worse than merely eating him.
Sirius breaks the border into the wizarding village and he knows he can take his pick of any the houses, any of them will have a fireplace connected to the Floo Network. It's a lot easier than what he is used to; carefully watching homes for wizarding families, waiting for them to leave so he can sneak in to use their fire and contact Harry.
He settles for returning to the Hog's Head. Anywhere personally recommended by Dumbledore is surely a safe bet and for once, he is not in the mood to court trouble. The air is still saturated with the threat he felt earlier in the cave but he supposes everywhere will feel like that now, for as long as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named lives.
As he runs to the pub, he spots his cave in the distance, suddenly remembering Buckbeak. He makes a mental note to tell Dumbledore as soon as possible; he's grown rather fond of the hippogriff, his travelling partner these past few years. They've come to have an understanding of one another, Sirius often thinks that Buckbeak is far too intelligent for his own good but they have a mutual trust and respect and it would be treachery to abandon him now, after all they have been through together.
At the edge of the village, he nudges open the back door with his nose and transforms once again into a human, turning back to look at the night sky. He can hear the landlord's snoring and he relaxes, grateful for the easiness of his task, happy that he will not have to resort to the use of his wand.
Before grabbing a handful of the Floo powder from the mantelpiece, his peripheral catches sight of the portrait hung above the fire. The young girl in the painting waves shyly at him and he spares a small smile for her, throwing the powder into the flames so that they glow green, staining the room in a shade of chartreuse. He's careful to stoop his head when he steps into the fire, for fear of banging it off the mantelpiece, and resists the desire to choke on the ash that fills his mouth no sooner has he done it.
"Remus John Lupin's - fellow Marauder, occasional werewolf!"
Sirius shuts his eyes to ward off the disconcerting spin of Floo travel, feeling a pleasant heat fan across his cheeks as he flies past fireplace after fireplace. When he starts to slow, he braces himself, flinging his arms out at the last minute, knowing that it will be an inelegant arrival.
He emerges, coughing and spluttering, on his knees and covered head to toe in soot and ash, on the wooden floor of one Remus Lupin. Almost instantly, a man rushes forward from the shadows of the room, his frail figure wrapped up in a thin, flannel dressing gown.
Sirius feels hands on his shoulders, sweeping at his back, dusting the fireplace grime from his hair and face.
"Sirius? Is that you? Why are you - what's going on?"
"Remus - Remus, he's back."
The depth of inflection and fear within Sirius' voice is enough for him to ask no questions, to leave him without a shadow of a doubt to whom he is referring. Remus' fingers suddenly clutch at the shirt on Sirius' back, nails pinching skin, before releasing their grip as quickly as they had latched on. He stumbles away from his friend, still braced on hands and knees on his floor, and collapses into the only armchair within the room.
A shaky hand covers his face as he gathers his thoughts, giving himself a moment to appreciate the weight of the news before reverting back to his role as the steady one, the voice of reason and propriety. It will be what Sirius will need, there will be plenty of time afterwards to respond appropriately to the information in his own company.
"I expect Dumbledore has sent you." he finally musters, managing to sound remarkably undaunted by Sirius' announcement.
Sirius nods, his eyes on the floor. He hasn't moved an inch.
"He used Harry, Remus. He used Harry to come back. I should have been nearby, I knew something bad was going to happen. I should have been there to help him and - "
"And you would have got yourself thrown into Azkaban again. Do not beat yourself up, Sirius, it is done. We must focus on what to do now. I imagine Dumbledore has given you instructions?"
"Yes. To alert the others - the old crowd, he said."
"Well, let me just get changed. We can Disapparate at the same time."
Sirius is quiet for a moment,"...what?"
"You don't expect me to travel by the Floo Network, do you? Not in my condition!" Remus teases. Despite meeting again on such a grave occasion, he is genuinely overjoyed to see his friend after parting during the most trying of times. Weeks after, Remus had deliberated frantically over sending Sirius a letter of apology but these things are better said when spoken aloud.
His joke misses its target and falls flat, leaving Remus pink from chagrin, fiddling with the tie on his dressing gown so that he can focus on that instead of the man opposite him. Sirius finally rises to his feet, slightly unsteady but as graceful as he can be. He cocks his head at Remus and looks at him through squinted eyes, taking in the shadows beneath his lashes and the unmistakable bleariness of one who has just awoke.
"You want to come with me? It's getting late, you should probably rest. I can do this by myself."
There's an awkwardness between the pair. Their last meeting was ended abruptly; the full moon had interrupted their previous reunion and Remus had lost all sense of himself. Sirius had been captured, then escaped, all before the morning had broken and Remus returned to a more coherent state of mind, leaving them with no chance for parting words. Remus hopes he did not hurt Sirius badly when he was in his wolf state, or that his years of living under the misapprehension of Sirius being guilty has not affected him too deeply.
They had spoken briefly of their mistakes in the Shrieking Shack before Harry, Ron and Hermione, and although they have certainly forgiven each other of their falsehoods, it cannot be resolved and undone so swiftly, not even by the magic of a time-turner.
Remus fixes Sirius with a stern look, "If anyone needs rest, it's you, Sirius. Forgive me but you look terrible. You surely don't think that I would let you do this alone, do you?"
"Well, I - I - no."
"Exactly. Besides, " he adds, with the ghost of a smile. "You forget that Alastor Moody is part of that 'old crowd'. Call me masochistic, but I for one would love to see his face when Sirius Black, mass murderer and escaped prisoner, shows up on his doorstep."
"Merlin's Beard, Remus, he's spent a good part of the year locked away in a trunk! They apprehended the culprit just this night, Moody's probably on his way to St Mungos as we speak. Last I knew, he was in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts."
Remus' face lights up with surprise but he recovers before it shows too much. He has not been in regular contact with Sirius since they last met; Sirius has kept his communication with others relatively low to avoid attention - except for Harry, of course. Still, it stings Remus to know he is out of the loop, especially when everything that has happened has concerned James and Lily's only child.
It calls to mind the way his friends had distanced themselves from him during Voldemort's reign, of the lonely nights holed up in his small flat - courtesy of James, an ostentatious gift - and wondering whether any of them would make it through the year. He hadn't seen the Potter's for months and Peter had all but vanished, even Sirius' visits had become less frequent, evermore brief and cold. There had been no more late night conversations with him, no more whispered confessions of being afraid in his moon-drenched bedroom, lying side by side on the collapsed mattress and pretending they were still at school, everything softer and manageable in the darkness.
Sirius had stopped coming altogether in the end, only weeks away from James and Lily's deaths. Remus hadn't learnt the reason why until seeing him again in the Shrieking Shack.
They must learn from their blunders of the past and have faith in one another, as they used to, before the first war began and they were pointing fingers of suspicion at each other. Perhaps Peter has ruined more than they even thought.
"Again, your memory does not serve you well, my friend. When has Alastor ever trusted anything outside of his own judgement? I guarantee he is at home, mixing up some ghastly quick fix potion," Remus says, hesitating on his way to the foot of the stairs. "Although, maybe we should leave Alastor for last and give him some hours to get over the worst? He'll probably jinx us out of the street if we show up in the middle of the night. Till then, we can go to the others, and you can tell me exactly what has been happening at Hogwarts."
Sirius appears nonchalant as he crams his hands into his pockets to wait, but beneath his indifferent front he is glad to have Remus joining him, for him to throw himself so wholeheartedly into the job at hand - he is glad that, despite everything, he never really had to ask.
***
Wisteria Walk, Little Whinging is bathed in a cool darkness, chillier than what the time of year may suggest. Remus shivers slightly in his woolen cardigan, having grossly underestimated the temperature as he dressed, while a shaggy black dog beside him shakes out its fur and bounds forward a few steps, glancing back with a lolling, pink tongue, tail wagging energetically.
"I know I'm usually the one to exercise caution but I believe you are quite safe for the present, Sirius. It's currently - " Remus breaks off, leaning in to check the watch at his wrist. " - coming up to midnight and I doubt the muggles with be pressing their faces to their windows to see Sirius Black outside. Arabella keeps cats and I don't think she'll be too pleased to have a dog, although as impressive as yourself, in their company."
The dog tilts its head at Remus but Sirius does not need to be told twice. He savours every opportunity he can get to walk about the streets as his human self, for that always rare excuse to feel like a free man again.
"Right, better? Excellent. Arabella's is this one, I believe." Remus says, stopping at the end of the driveway.
The house in unremarkable, much like the others within Little Whinging, Surrey. They are all built to look identical, all homing unwitting muggle families who have no concept of Lord Voldemort, or even precisely what a Voldemort is. That is, all except one. The residents are ignorant to the fact that a squib - that is to say, someone born into a wizarding family but without magical abilities - is living alongside them.
They cannot know that Arabella Figg, the person in question, has provided her services to the Order of the Phoenix since the first wizarding war, and is held in the highest regard by one of the most renowned wizards of their time, Albus Dumbledore, as well as being thought of as an esteemed member of the Order. It is for this purpose which we find Remus and Sirius stood at her very doorstep, ringing the bell in trepidation.
"I would ready yourself..." Remus says pointedly, inclining his head to the house just as the hallway light flashes on. "I rather think she hasn't changed since we last saw her."
When Mrs Figg opens the door, brandishing an umbrella in one hand, grey hair half tucked into a hairnet and feet clad in tartan slippers, she expects teenagers to be pranking her. She is ready to see an empty doorstep and hear the boozy guffaws of the delinquents echoing from down the road - she's had many of these attempts over the years, targeted because of her eccentricity, something she has gotten used to because she is here on Dumbledore's orders, to keep an eye on the Potter boy. She will give as good as she gets because she will not be sidetracked by muggle miscreants, not when she is entrusted a job of the utmost importance.
What she does not expect to see are the two wizards stood before her.
"This is hardly the time for house calls! Remus, is it? Remus Lupin? And...Merlin's Beard, Sirius Black!" she cries with wide eyes, umbrella clattering to the floor, making to shut the door in their faces.
Sirius shoves a foot against the frame before she manages it, palm flat against the door, a broad grin on his face, "Now don't be like that, Figg, I'm here on business."
Arabella Figg's face turns thunderous and instead pulls the door open wider, pointing a trembling finger to Sirius, his expression bemused as she yells, "Mr Tibbles! Tufty! Snowy! Mr Paws!"
Streaks of fur, shades of orange and grey and white, pounce on him, small pinpricks of pain embedding themselves into his skin. He flails, his arms propelling hopelessly to keep himself upright, before he topples onto the ground, feeling bristles of cat hair sweep across his arms and tails whipping into his face. With watering eyes, Sirius appeals for Remus' help.
"Remus! Get these things off me, Remus!"
"Oh dear, " Remus says, barely containing his amusement as Sirius rolls about before the porch, hands scrabbling to gain purchase on at least one of the cats scratching at his body. Taking pity on him, he turns to Mrs Figg reluctantly, "Please, Arabella, we're here because of Dumbledore. If you could call off your cats, we'll be more than happy to explain. I promise that Sirius is not about to murder you."
She narrows her eyes, "Dumbledore, you say?"
"I swear on my life. Just let us come in and we'll go over everything."
She appraises them; Sirius writhing around on the floor and covered in her cats, and Remus in his fraying cardigan, pale and composed in the moonlight. She peers up at it, the moon, noting that it is not quite full, and snaps her chin down in a sharp nod. Dumbledore keeps unusual company, herself included, and yet his instincts are often correct. If she cannot rely on Remus Lupin's word at least, she shall certainly rely on Dumbledore's.
"Well, alright then, but if I catch a whiff of anything fishy from him then I'm setting the cats on you again - both of you. Now come in, you're letting the heat out." she snaps, whistling through her teeth; the cats jump off of Sirius almost as soon as they hear it, trailing behind Mrs Figg as she reenters the house.
Remus holds out a hand to Sirius, who takes it after throwing a savage look at the retreating back of Mrs Figg.
"She's completely barmy."
"She's also a valuable asset to the Order." Remus reminds him, leading the way into the hallway.
"Could have fooled me..." Sirius mutters under his breath.
Inside, they politely ignore the distinct cabbage odour that seems to be permeating throughout the entire house, and obey her commands to take off their shoes before setting foot into the front room. After declining a rather waspish offer of tea, they perch themselves on the floral patterned settee, trying not to squash the cats resting there, Sirius albeit gingerly. He prods at Snowy with the manner of one approaching something quite detestable, until taking a swipe of indignant claws from the creature in question and holding up his hands in offended defeat.
"Now what's this about? If it's anything to do with that lousy oaf Mundungus Fletcher, then I want no part of it. He tried to sell me powdered unicorn horn just last week - now I know that it was just crushed up black market Erumpent horn, I'm surprised it didn't explode in his pocket. What am I going to do with unicorn horn anyway? I'm a squib, it's not like I can knock up a potion!"
Remus and Sirius share a glance, before Sirius sits back, accidentally knocking off a crocheted arm-rest cover. Remus takes this as an indication for him to talk.
"Er, no, actually. No, it's not about Mundungus - speaking of which, we should probably visit him next," he adds in a low voice, turning to Sirius. Remus raises his voice again. "Actually, Dumbledore sent us, specifically Sirius. You see, something happened tonight. It might come as a shock so I think you should prepare yourself for this, Arabella, because - "
"Voldemort is back."
Mrs Figg starts at the name. Remus glares reproachfully at Sirius, who shrugs out a half-hearted apology.
"You were taking too long." he tells Remus.
The crabbiness falls away from Arabella Figg, leaving her small and shrunken, appearing for all the world as the frail old women she pretends to be for the Dursley's and her muggle neighbours. Her hand seeks out her closest cat and she pulls him, Mr Tibbles, onto her lap, stroking him between the ears as she gnaws on her bottom lip.
"Back? Are you certain?"
"Absolutely. Harry Potter - my godson - he saw him come back. Dumbledore is reinstating the Order, he specifically asked for you. I'm here to tell you to keep on your guard and be aware for any signs from Dumbledore, he'll probably be in touch with you shortly himself."
Mrs Figg tugs nervously at her hairnet, heedless of its crooked angle. "Oh dear, oh dear. You say Dumbledore asked for me personally?"
Sirius nods, recoiling at Mr Paws rubbing himself across his side. He makes a face and Remus bites back the urge to scold him, concrentrating on Mrs Figg. She seems to be lifted by the knowledge that Dumbledore has asked for her to be included.
"We're sorry to have disturbed you so late, Arabella, especially with this news. Should we let ourselves out?"
"Yes - yes, alright," she murmurs, watching Sirius fumble with the crocheted cover as he tries to slide it back onto the arm rest. Her voice suddenly finds its bite again. "And if you see that Mundungus Fletcher around, you tell him from me to keep his thieving hands away from Little Whinging!"
After assuring her that they will pass on the message, they slink into the hallway to don their shoes, Sirius cautiously edging around Tufty, before finding themselves in the weakly lit streets again. Clouds blanket the sky and somewhere a few miles off, thunder grumbles.
"Well, all things considered, I think that went quite well, don't you?" Remus asks, drawing his cardigan tight around his shoulders.
Sirius scowls darkly, pulling out his wand to heal the cuts on his arms, "Easy for you to say. You weren't mauled half to death by her hybrid kneazle-cats."
"Yes, well, I suppose Dumbledore could have sent an owl to let the necessary people know that you're not going to burst into their homes and kill them on sight but he has a lot to be going on with. It's best that he focuses his attention on Harry."
"Yeah, Harry should be the most - wait," he says, staring off down the road. "This is where his muggle family live, isn't it?"
Remus is already answering, not realising his error. "Yes, yes I think it is but what's -"
Sirius Black is already storming away, heading directly for Privet Drive. He knows the address, knows it off by heart from writing his letters to Harry, and by the time Remus has caught up, clutching a stitch in his side, Sirius has his wand in hand and is a foot away from the door.
"Sirius!" Remus hisses, pulling him back by the shoulder. "You can't just crash in there and threaten them with your wand, you'll scare them to death! You'll wake the neighbourhood!"
"Good! Those muggles have been little better than Death Eaters to Harry! I say we turn the tables on them and - "
"You never think of the ramifications, do you? You'll be making things ten times harder for Harry when he comes back here. Think of all he's seen, what he's been through. These people aren't going to care about any of it -"
"All the more reason to hex them." Sirius says stubbornly.
"No, it's not. Sirius, if you go in there and - and - oh, I don't know, turn them all into hamsters, they'll be foul to Harry! They'll be worse than they already are. He won't need that, not now, not after this year."
Sirius tips back his head and drags fingers through knotty hair, releasing a small groan of annoyance and admittance. Remus is right, as always, and he can't let himself be responsible for these muggles making Harry's life harder than it already is. He gazes up at the curtain-drawn windows of 4 Privet Drive.
"If only Harry were in there..." Sirius says wistfully.
"I daresay you'll see him again soon enough." Remus points out gently. "Let's- let's head back to Arabella's and we can Disapparate from there. We still need to find Mundungus."
At these words, Sirius snaps out of his stupour and laughs, eye twinkling with humour. "Oh, don't worry about that. If I know Dung, he'll be in a pub. I can narrow it down to about three possibilities. Well, come on then, I need to get this muggle house out of my sight before I rethink doing something drastic."
Remus hangs back and messes with the unravelled edge of his sleeve, "I'll be there in a minute, I just need to, er, retie my shoelace."
Sirius looks at him quizzically but nonetheless begins to return to Wisteria Walk. Remus waits a minute before glancing around the deserted street, watching Sirius' sloping figure heading back to Arabella Figg's house.
When he is quite sure that Sirius has disappeared from view, he kneels on the evenly clipped grass alongside the hydrangea bush beneath the window of the Dursley's. Without ceremony, he pulls a wand from his pocket and mutters an inaudible spell; almost instantly, the flowerbeds begin to shrivel and wilt and the grass dries to an unpleasant shade of yellow. Only feeling a little guilty, Remus admires his handiwork before tiptoing away from Privet Drive.
If only Sirius could have been there to hear Petunia Dursley's screams of mirth when she discovers her precious garden the next day, inexplicably dead overnight.
***
The air cracks as two men Apparate into Diagon Alley, though none nearby would hear it from the thunder that still growls overhead. The cobbled lane patters with the sound of rainfall and the men rush past the closed shops, arms over their heads and feet kicking up puddles.
This is the third pub that they are trying. They have already been to the Three Broomsticks, arriving only just before it closed for the night, and they even ventured to the Hog's Head although Sirius knows for a fact that Mundungus is barred from there. Remus has been going in alone as Sirius waits outside as a dog, but he despises loud, crowded rooms and he shies away from putting himself forward. When he stepped into the Hog's Head, a goblin had eyed him from its seat in a corner booth, even as Remus scanned the pub as quickly as he could, shaking off the prickly feeling of hairs standing up on the back of his neck. He was watched until he hurried out of the door again.
Together, they approach the Leaky Cauldron and Remus is earnest that this shall be their last attempt.
"Look, if he's not in there, then I really think we should head home. We'll go to Moody's in the morning and then maybe we can give Mundungus another shot but I'm telling you now that I refuse to enter another pub tonight!"
"Come on, Moony, where's your sense of adventure?"
"I think I lost it somewhere after the Three Broomsticks, when that old witch tried to buy me a pint of mulled mead. I told her I was in rather a rush and she all but threw the glass at my head." he says stiffly as Sirius cracks up.
The sign to the tavern creaks above their heads, swinging in the wind as the storm picks up. The Leaky Cauldron, although late in hour, is still a jumble of laughing and shouts and singing, and Remus is completely miserable at the thought of going in there. He sighs heavily, casting a quick charm to siphon heat from the tip of his wand, and dries his clothes beneath the roof of the porch so that he looks less like he's been lurking in the rain all night.
Sirius shifts into the black dog and gives Remus' hand a friendly nip of encouragement, nudging him by the nose to force him closer to the entrance.
"Yes, yes, I'm going. You just - sit."
He does exactly that, as still as a statue, illuminated only in a patch of lamp light that shines from the windows of the Leaky Cauldron as he waits for Remus. When it feels as if an age has passed since Remus entered the pub, Sirius starts to fret over his extended absence. He's already formulated several plans of action to rescue his friend when the din grows louder as the door groans open, and Remus is once again by his side.
"Well, " Remus announces grimly, blinking the rain from out his eyes. "He's in there alright, and he's drunk on firewhiskey. He was telling an extraordinarily tasteless joke to anyone that would listen. Crude even for his standards, I might add."
"What was the joke about?" Sirius presses, raising his eyebrows expectantly, handsome face all angles and shadows, overridden with exhilaration.
Whenever Sirius is like this - when he's giddy - Remus is deeply abashed at his ability to forget Sirius' indisputable struggles. The fact of the matter is, Sirius hardly lets on that he's suffering at all. He makes light of most events, particularly those pertaining to his own life, and it's easy to contentedly laugh away the time spent with him because he makes it so - Remus forgets even his own troubles when Sirius is near. There's a selfishness in Remus that rejoices at having such a friend, the sort who buoys you up rather than drags you down.
"If you must know, it was about a mermaid and a grindylow but I'm not going into it." Remus says drily, stifling a yawn.
"Oh! I know that one! A mermaid wanders into some reeds, right, and the grindylow - "
"No, I've heard it once already, thank you very much. I needn't hear it again. You better step into the covers - yes, like that, people are coming out. I think it's last orders, finally."
A gaggle of witches and wizards step out into the rain, tutting at the turn in weather. A few nod their heads to Remus, standing out in the open before them, although most sneak glances at him from the corner of their eyes, curious and mistrustful that he should be skulking out here and not inside, where drinks were to be had and merriment was in abundance. The news of Voldemort's return has not yet reached the ears of the public.
Remus scans the group as they head their separate ways but none of them are Mundungus.
"He's still in there. Do you reckon we should pick this up again in the morning when Mundungus is, er, a little more aware of his surroundings."
"No, let's just wait a little longer. If Dung is too intoxicated, he'll sleep in this very gutter, I promise you."
"Can't be long now," Remus guesses, looking at his watch again. "Tom must be struggling to kick Mundungus out."
"Ah well, Dung can be very persuasive when he wants to be."
Just as Sirius is speaking the words, a grubby man with scraggly hair staggers from the pub, shouting profanities at the top of his lungs. Tom, the bartender at the Leaky Cauldron, is framed in the light from inside and flaps his arms in exasperation. With a sweep of his wand, the door slams shut between him and Mundungus, the locks magically sliding and clunking into place. Mundungus is too concerned with being thrown out of the pub to spot Remus just a few steps away.
Remus coughs.
"'Ere, it's Ra-Rum-Romeo!"
"Close. Remus, actually. It's been a while, Mundungus."
"Yeah, yeah! That's right! You're that werewolf bloke, ain't you? 'Ow you doin', mate?" Mundungus slurs, wringing Remus' hand with vigour. "I haven' seen you since, blimey...it's bin years."
Sirius is obscured by the shadows, watching the exchange with fascinated enjoyment. Although he would never admit to it, he knows that Remus has a dislike for Mundungus.
Since their introduction during the first war when they both joined up to be in the Order, Mundungus greeted Remus by howling at him in a poor imitation of what he must have thought a wolf sounded like. On Remus' part, after that ordeal, there has never been a strong desire to know him better; he used to cringe inwardly at being partnered with him on missions for the Order, which happened more times than he'd have liked - he was sure it was Dumbledore's idea of a joke, perhaps hoping for them to bond. Remus never grumbled about it but he was more than happy to see the back of Mundungus after a night's shift.
Remus pulls his hand free from the other man's grip, flexing his fingers to bring some feeling back to them. His gaze flickers to Sirius in warning, then back to Mundungus again.
"Oh, I'm perfectly alright, thank you. There is actually someone else here I'd like you to meet, though. If you would kindly step out..."
Sirius, all too willing, makes a show of his reveal, dramatically leaping out from his hiding place to make his presence known. Mundungus reacts splendidly, precisely how Sirius had thought he would, and crashes into the bins outside of the pub, raising up a stir. A stray cat darts away down the street, leaving Sirius cackling with laughter and Mundungus flabbergasted in a heap, expired frogspawn and potion residue in his lap. A hole starts to singe away at his trousers and he taps it mindlessly with his wand, only to produce a thick haze of smoke.
"Bleedin' hell, Sirius! I thought you was on the run!" he chokes, spluttering at his smoking trousers. "Them dementors not caught up with you yet?"
Sirius produces his own wand and clears up the damage to Mundungus' trousers with a lazy flick. "It warms my heart, Dung, to know you care. I need a word with you though, mate."
Mundungus squints up at them with bloodshot eyes, looking between Sirius and Remus. A noise bleats from his mouth, half hiccough and half burp, the sound so revolting that Remus wrinkles his nose in disgust.
"You two aren't goin' to kill me, are you? See, I got a fing tomorrow, got a man to meet about a promising lookin' broomstick - don't s'pose either of you are interested? Knock off price for you, if you are."
"'fraid not, Dung, " Sirius says breezily, crouching down to the same eye level as him. "Thing is, Voldemort is back - "
Mundungus flinches violently, frogspawn squelching onto his hand but Sirius pushes on.
" - and Dumbledore is starting up the Order again. He's going to be in contact with you, so keep your eyes peeled."
He shakes his head slowly but firmly, as if trying to clear the fog of alcohol from his brain, patting his pockets with fidgety fingers. He removes a pipe and raises it to his lips to clamp between his teeth but then looks up at the sky and seems to suddenly notice the rain.
"Fancy that, it's rainin'. Probably a bad sign." he says, scratching at his red hair. "Definitely a a bad sign."
Sirius glances up at the clouds too. "Yes, well, we've already been to see Arabella Figg. She says you're to stay away from Little Whinging, by the way."
The man's face perks up at the mention of a familiar name.
"You seen ol' Figgy? Di'n' say nothing about tha' unicorn horn, did she? Only, I'm tryin' to shift it. Ten Galleons, if you fancy it? Or I 'ave this 'ere Sneakoscope, I can do it for you for- "
"Sorry, mate, we're not looking to buy. Have you listened to anything I've said, Dung? About Dumbledore and the Order, that he'll be in touch?"
Mundungus, it transpires, has fallen asleep, nestled between the bins and litter, pipe dangling loosely from his lips.
"You know, I'm not sure he'll remember this in the morning, he'll probably think we were an unsavoury dream." Sirius ponders, standing up and brushing a glob of frog spawn from his shirt. "Let me just cast something, to keep him dry."
He looks down at Mundungus with something close to affection. "He had some brilliant stories when we got paired up on those missions the first time around. There was one where he got mixed up with a vampire in Devon. He had Dung cornered, and Dung being an idiot tried to cast Lumos in a panic, to try and scare him off. Trouble is, he said 'Lumios' instead and had his wand pointed backwards - his skin was glowing orange for weeks afterwards."
"I believe I can remember that one, " Remus says, shaking dripping hair from his eyes. "Do you think we should move him?"
"Nah, he can look after himself. Either way, once Dumbledore is involved then Dung can't say no, he'd do anything for him. I think we're done here."
"Home?" Remus asks pleadingly as they take off down Diagon Alley.
Sirius takes in his friend; soaked through to the skin, his cardigan hanging heavy off his slender frame and the sleeves down past his knuckles, Remus looks as if he's taken a swim in the lake at Hogwarts. Sirius admits to himself that the idea of a nice, warm fire and the prospect of dry clothes sounds more than appealing and he's happy to oblige Remus.
"Home." he agrees, although the word tastes strange on his tongue.
He's not so sure he has anywhere he can call home these days.
***
Sirius and Remus are standing outside a semi detached house. They've remained like this for the past ten minutes, staring in apprehension at the inoffensive home. It's exterior represents perfect ordinariness but it's not the house itself that they are worried over. It's the man inside.
"I think you should go and knock on the door." Sirius finally says.
Remus stammers, "What?! Why should I do it?"
"Because you're more likable than I am, " Sirius says sagely, turning to him. "And you haven't been convicted of murdering a whole street full of people."
"I'm a werewolf, Sirius. I think we're pretty evenly matched in the stakes for most hated. Besides, you didn't do it!"
"Well, he doesn't know that, does he!"
Remus rolls his eyes and tugs at the sleeve of his dusty jacket, stalling. He knows that he cannot evade Sirius' demands for long, he's never had the strength to refuse him, not even at Hogwarts. Then again, he can't imagine anyone refusing Sirius of anything - he could ask you to strip down and run through Gringott's, and you would do it because he has the uncanny knack of persuasion. If he'd had the chance, Remus would have pestered Sirius to go into politics, he would have made a formidable Minister for Magic.
"Don't you think Dumbledore already spoke to him of this?" Remus challenges, warily glancing at the windows of the house. "If he was in the hospital wing, then - "
"I thought Dumbledore would have had enough to be going on with, Remus. Moody probably broke out and got himself home before Dumbledore had the chance."
Sighing heavily, Remus gives in. Throwing Sirius a look of utter contempt, he draws himself up to full height and marches steadfastly to the front gate, reaching over to unbolt it. No sooner has his fingers brushed against the lock, a magical gust sweeps by him - through him - and he's hanging in the air, dangling upside down by his feet, from nothing the human eye can perceive.
He flounders, hands moving fervently to grab anything escaping his pockets. He's too slow to catch his wand and it bounces off the pavement, sending green sparks shooting out from the tip.
"It's a good look for you, Moony!" Sirius howls, clutching at his side in hilarity. "You'd make a charming bat."
"I'm glad you're having fun, really, but would it be too much of a bother for you to help me down?"
Sirius approaches, still grinning, reaching up to grasp Remus' extended hand. He gives him a gentle pull but Remus only moves a fraction, bobbing for a split second.
"Huh." Sirius frowns, shaking hair from his face and taking hold of Remus' arm with both hands. He yanks down hard, using his weight as leverage.
"OUCH! Would you be careful! Keep in mind that I AM attached to the arm you're trying to pull off."
Sirius aims a bashful smile at his friend, "Sorry, it's just this is a strong charm. I'm impressed."
Overhead and lost in his jacket, Remus groans.
"Perfect! Why on earth would anyone place a spell like this on a garden gate? Think of his muggle neighbours! This has to be breaking at least ten different wizarding laws."
"Doesn't affect muggles." growls a voice from behind them. "Only works on wizards, see?"
They both turn to look in the direction of where the voice has come from - Remus flapping about above - and find Alastor Moody observing them, leaning heavily on a crutch. Dressed down in a stained nightshirt, his scarred face is unreadable, a blank hole where his magical eye should be. He watches them with his one good eye, gnarled and imposing even in his sleepwear.
"Who're you? What are you doing here? Thought you'd have the common decency to let me rest after what I've been through this year."
"Dumbledore sent us!" Remus cries through a mouthful of jacket. "We didn't know if he'd told you."
"Told me what? Spit it out, boy, I'm not inclined to stay out here much longer."
"About the Order, " Sirius speaks up, stepping around Remus and coming into full view. "Dumbledore is bringing back the Order. I trust you know the reason why, you were an integral part of the plot."
Moody turns his attention on Sirius, realisation dawning across his contorted face.
"Black!" he snarls, wand out in the beat of a heart.
Sirius barely has time to say, "Oh, for - " before being knocked onto his back by a blast. Crumpled in a heap, he hears the clunk of Moody's wooden leg moving closer, then the bellow of an incantation.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Sirius entire body seizes up and he's left immobile on the ground, only able to listen to Remus' protestations to Moody.
"Wait, stop! Alastor, Sirius isn't what you think he is! Contact Dumbledore, he'll tell you the truth! Sirius is innocent."
"Why should I believe that? The way I see it, now that the Dark Lord is back, he'll send his most loyal followers to get me! He knows I'm weak!"
In his head, Sirius thinks that if this is Moody in a weakened state, he'd rather not see him in his prime.
"Just - just let me down. I'll show you Sirius isn't a supporter of You-Know-Who!" Remus begs, his movement causing a few forgotten peppermints to slip from his pockets and through his fingers, clattering off the floor. "If we were going to attack you, do you really think we would be using the front gate!"
"Right, " Moody mumbles, shuffling closer to Remus' hanging body. "I'll let you down but I will jinx you if you - "
"Try anything funny. Yes, I understand."
Moody points his wand at Remus who, to his credit, only looks slightly anxious by being at the ex-Auror's mercy. Moody waves his wand, left to right, over Remus, who is quite powerless when the soles of his shoes feel like they're beginning to peel away from something invisible. He hasn't even a minute to think when he realises what is happening, dropping like a stone onto the pavement below, thudding an elbow off a cracked muggle garden gnome.
"Sorry, lad, should have warned you."
Remus stands, wincing, "No, it's alright, no harm done. At least not to me."
Moody limps over to inspect the gnome Remus has pointed out, affronted as he grimaces at the offending garden accessory.
"Damn muggles, they keep tipping their rubbish onto my lawn. The Ministry made me lift all those charms I'd placed around my house, to stop the bins attacking everyone." he says, picking it up and throwing it over the garden wall. "Those gnomes are probably spying on me. Bugged, see?"
"Yes, er - the matter at hand then? Look - may I, Sirius? " Remus says, kneeling down to roll up the sleeves of Sirius, who widens his eyes to grant him permission. "No Dark Mark. Don't you think he'd have one, if he really were one of Voldemort's men? He brands them all, Moody, you know this."
"Yeah, well..." Moody says, moving a step closer. "Got something I'd like to try out for myself. You better stay still, boy, or I can't promise what I'll do."
Moody lifts the full body bind spell, then without warning, raps his wand sharply at Sirius' face, tip smacking him on the bridge of his nose. Sirius' face fills red, a line working from his chin up to his hairline, before draining back to his regular complexion again in a matter of seconds.
"ARGH! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"
"A little spell, to check for any concealment charms." Moody grimaces, displeased at the lack of effect his spell has had. "Looks like you're clear..."
"What, not going to try anything else? Veritaserum?" Sirius snaps, roughly scrubbing at his nose. "Or maybe you're feeling rebellious today, perhaps the Cruciatus Curse will help."
Moody narrows his eyes, "Haven't got any Veritaserum, otherwise I'd have used it already. I don't mess around with the Unforgivable Curses, boy! "
Remus' looks between the two wizards in panic, arms nervously jumping at his sides, ready to throw himself between them if necessary. He looks over his shoulder, to the street, worried over the ever-present threat of muggles nearby.
Sirius seems to be thinking along the same lines, "So are we done with your little experiments? Or do you want us all to be arrested for exposing ourselves to muggles?"
"It's not too late for me to change my mind about you!" Moody roars, brandishing his wand.
"Right, well, about the Order - " Remus says, purposely stepping in front of Sirius, blocking him from Moody's view.
"Oh, that. Yeah, Dumbledore already mentioned it to me. Looks like you wasted a trip." Moody grumbles, clunking back off into his house.
Sirius watches Moody until the end of his nightshirt whips behind the door, then turns to Remus, his voice strained with the forced effort of trying to keep it level. His hands shake as he gets to his feet, nabbing Remus' abandoned wand from a patch of weeds to hand back to its owner.
"Moony?"
"...yes?"
"We need to leave now. I'm perilously close to being an idiot."
"Okay. Let's find an alley to Disapparate from, it's getting on in the day." Remus suggests, leading the way from Alastor Moody's.
Sirius is white faced, jumpy, as they march past hedgerows and parked cars. He hadn't known what to expect when Dumbledore had sent him from Hogwarts on his task but as he thinks over it, he never quite anticipated such animosity from people he had fought alongside, fought against Voldemort with. These people were his family, along with James and Lily, and for them to have decided so candidly that he had betrayed them all, to be associated with the very man who has brought all this destruction into their lives, does not sit so comfortably with him.
He voices these concerns to Remus, who responds with mindful words that do not vanquish his disquietude altogether, but at least pacifies it.
"This was never going to be simple. They've had fourteen years worth of the Daily Prophet heralding you as Voldemort's number one, they'll all need convincing. I expect they'll still have their doubts until Dumbledore backs us up. It won't be long now, they'll see the truth soon."
"You know, " Sirius begins, tiredly rubbing at a headache in his temple. "Being Voldemort's favourite little Death Eater isn't all it's cracked up to be."
Together, Remus and Sirius work their way through visiting as many original Order members as they can, their reactions to seeing Sirius growing increasingly severe; Emmeline Vance actually fainted at the sight of Sirius' face, who was still angry from his encounter with Moody, and when she came to, had to be consoled by Remus for the entire duration of their time with her, and Dedalus Diggle kept dropping his hat and gawping open mouthed even long after they had left his company.
"I'm beginning to think that Dumbledore hasn't thought this through." Sirius says, nettled, after being knocked onto his rear for the sixth time that day. "It's as if Voldemort himself has shown up on their doorsteps!"
When they finally arrive back at Remus', fatigued and in mild pain from all the defensive spells they've had used on them - Sirius had to hand it to Sturgis Podmore, who cast a most inspiring Impediment jinx, which stopped him from moving for almost a whole minute - they ignore their grumbling stomachs in favour of the promise of a much deserved rest.