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Author: Author by Night Story: Beholders Rating: Teens Setting: DH-interview Status: Completed Reviews: 4 Words: 20,690
January-June, 1996
Sturgis being one of his closest friends, Kingsley didn’t waste a minute. He came up with a reason to visit with Tonks and Scrimgeour, and when they arrived, not a Dementor was in sight. The next several hours were spent interviewing anyone with possible connections to the escapees — including Tonks’s own parents. Kingsley said that he would find a place for Sturgis to stay for the remainder of the month intended for Azkaban, and promptly whisked him to Order Headquarters. What followed was a sombre Order meeting. Emmeline Vance hugged Sturgis tightly, showing more emotion than she ever had before. Tonks returned from her parents’ house, looking miserable. “Mum’s in hysterics,” Tonks said as she slumped into a chair. “Thinks Auntie Bella’s going to come for me or Dad.” “The Lestranges have no shame,” Remus spat, “escaping after what they did to the Longbottoms.” “Are they related to a Neville? There's a boy in Ron's year named Neville Longbottom,” Arthur said. “His parents,” Moody replied, sounding distant. Both Molly and Arthur looked horrified. “I never made the connection,” Molly gasped. “Not the reunion I’d expected,” Sturgis joked feebly. “It’s never what you expect,” Sirius said knowingly. “Just don’t break into Hogwarts like I did. Won’t do you any favours.” “Speaking of which,” Kingsley said to Sirius, “I should warn you…” “Let me guess, I’m the perfect scapegoat?” “I’m doing my best—” “—then try harder!” Tonks demanded. “If they think it’s Sirius, they’ll press on, trying to find him, and they’ll never listen if they do!” “He is trying,” Hestia retorted sharply. It was the only time Kingsley had ever heard Hestia be short with Tonks. “They’re not going to find him,” Remus told her. “He’s safe here.” Tonks looked back at him, clearly unconvinced. “She’s right,” Sirius said darkly. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this. If Bellatrix gets close to Harry—” “—then he’ll be safe at Hogwarts,” Molly finished firmly. “Was he safe at Hogwarts last year, when Crouch sent him to the graveyard? How about the year before that? What if I really had been a murderer? Did you know that’s what haunts me, more than the things he said? He was prepared to fight me because he thought I’d killed his parents, even though I was an adult wizard and supposedly knew all sorts of Dark magic. We all know it’s just a matter of time before Harry once again faces danger willingly in an effort to protect or avenge someone else, and I’m not going to sit idly by when that happens.” Tonks folded her arms. “Like hell I’m going to let you do anything rash.” “What do you care, anyway?” Sirius retorted. “Because I just got you back!” Tonks cried. “You think I don’t remember you from when I was little? No, we never met much, but when we did? I worshipped you. You’d let me sit with you on your motorbike, and I’d feel the air rush past me as we flew up as high as my Mum would allow — which is to say, not very —but it didn’t matter because I was doing something with you. When I found out you were innocent, thanks to Remus, I got that feeling back. And as soon as your innocence is widely known, we are going on another motorbike ride. But that can’t happen if you’re stupid. Okay?” Sirius was staring at Tonks. “I don’t have that motorbike anymore,” he said flatly. “That's not the point!” “I know.” Sirius’s voice was soft now. He stood, and to everyone’s surprise, lifted Tonks up into a hug and rocked her ever so slightly, as though she was still that eight-year-old girl. “I know. I miss the motorbike, too. And I want to teach you and Harry how to ride one, so that will be my first purchase once they clear my name.” Tonks nodded, and Kingsley knew she was holding back tears. He also knew that, in Dumbledore’s absence — why was Dumbledore so often absent? — he had to speak. “Attention,” Kingsley began, and everyone looked at him. “We have a crisis on our hands right now. We have to stick to the plan, and we have to trust one another, now more than ever. I know what the Death Eaters do. What Bellatrix Lestrange does, what she destroys. We cannot let her — or anyone else, for that matter — destroy us.” The Order grew closer together after that. Many meetings ran late, turning into social events with food, Firewhisky and laughter. One night Kingsley, Bill, Fleur, Tonks, Remus and Sirius played a drinking game that involved Tonks’s morphing abilities; they woke to a very disapproving Molly Weasley yelling at them to stop sleeping on the floor, that it was lunchtime, for heaven’s sakes. Tonks was the only one who wasn’t hungover, although her face was very sore. Fleur was the only one who still looked attractive. Meanwhile, three couples were blossoming around them: Bill and Fleur, the latter of whom had started attending Order meetings more regularly; Emmeline and Sturgis (everyone was surprised at this, given Emmeline’s aloof personality); and Remus and Tonks. Despite the darkness surrounding them, the love in the air was nothing short of infectious. Even Sirius warmed to it, at least as best as he could. There were serious moments too, of course. Sirius continued to fall into his dark moods, even yelling at other Order members for no particular reason. Order duty, meanwhile, almost proved fatal at times, such as the day Tonks morphed as Bellatrix to spy on the Malfoys, Remus and Bill hiding outside the Malfoy Manor. Unfortunately, all three of them were discovered, and Kingsley wasn’t sure how they’d managed to escape alive. Tonks’s only regret was that they hadn’t made any arrests. Sirius’s only regret was that he hadn’t been there. “I wish I had a way to get to Narcissa myself,” Sirius muttered. Kreacher cackled, and Sirius promptly threw him out of the room. Kingsley would never forget the cackles, but nothing would haunt him more than what happened two months later. They weren’t even there for an Order meeting; they’d gone to Grimmauld Place for what was supposed to be a nice supper, though Remus and Kingsley ended up helping Sirius mend Buckbeak’s wounded left wing, which appeared to have got caught on something. Tonks and Moody showed a bit later, Tonks after her Auror shift, Moody after Order duty. Tonks had just tripped over her own feet and was being lovingly teased when Severus Snape turned up. “Severus!” Kingsley stood. “What brings you here?” Severus was peering at Sirius. “I see you’re not being tortured.” “I wouldn’t go that far,” Sirius muttered. “This isn’t the time, Black. Potter seems to think you’re being tortured by the Dark Lord. He had a dream that you were in the Department of Mysteries. Or so I presume…” “What?!” Sirius gasped. “It’s clear to me now,” Severus said coldly, “it’s a trick. I will alert Dumbledore at once.” “I have to get to Hogwarts,” Sirius said as soon as Severus left. He made to run, but Remus and Tonks grabbed his arms. “You’ll make things worse, Padfoot,” Remus told him. “I have to stop him — I have to —” “—go to Umbridge so she can put both of you away?” Kingsley interrupted. “He won’t stand a chance if he’s arrested, and neither will you. There’re Death Eaters waiting for that to happen, just as much as they’re waiting to lure him into a trap.” “The real question,” Remus said, “is why he wouldn’t have Floo’d? Or used that mirror you gave him?” Moody looked at Remus sharply. “What mirror?” Kingsley knew exactly what Remus and Sirius were talking about. “Did Harry ever thank you for it?” “No…” Kingsley was beginning to suspect that Harry had never opened whatever the mirror was wrapped in. It was clear from the expression on everyone’s faces that they’d all just realized the same. Sirius’s eyes widened, and he spewed out a string of curses that would’ve shocked Mundungus Fletcher. Kreacher was peering in from the doorway; Sirius grabbed his arm. “Did Harry just try contacting you?” Kreacher paused, then shook his head. “Don’t leave the room,” Sirius snarled. He looked at his friends with a look of desperation after locking the door. “Now what?” “We’re doomed,” Moody grumbled. “Moody!” Tonks hissed. “We’re fine. Snape just needs to tell Harry that Sirius is okay.” “Then why haven’t we gone home?” No one answered. They slumped down on the sofa. For once, Sirius was speechless; his eyes kept darting towards the door, then at Remus and Tonks, who were watching him fixedly. The clock in the background could not have possibly sounded louder or less tasteful; Kingsley silenced it with his wand. Finally, what felt like a century later, Severus returned. “I’ve looked everywhere for him, to no avail. It seems Potter’s yet again decided to play hero.” “Damn it,” Moody grumbled. “He appears to have taken a few of his friends along, including that useless Longbottom boy.” (At this, Remus mouthed something to himself.) “It might have been hours, at this point, so if I were you I’d make a run for it.” “Thank you, Severus,” Kingsley said. Sirius had a look of determination on his face. “I’m going to the Ministry.” “Sirius—” Remus began. “Don’t ‘Sirius’ me, Moony. What would you do? What would any of you do? He’s risking his life for me. It’s too late for me to hide and pretend we’ll all be safer if I do. And anyway, if I weren’t in hiding, you wouldn’t hesitate to let me join you!” Remus was shaking his head. “You might get into trouble if you—” “—you will too if you’re caught breaking into the Department of Mysteries! Look what happened to Sturgis! Don’t you get it? This isn’t about guilty or innocent or — or anything else anymore! And if you’re honestly asking me to sit by and hum a tune… then you don’t care about what I want at all.” “How dare you!” Tonks cried, but Kingsley said at the same time, “He comes.” Everyone stared at Kingsley. “Are you madder than me now, Shacklebolt?” Moody barked. “We can’t ask that of him,” Kingsley said. “Besides, we need all the help we can get. We’ll be outnumbered as it is.” “Kingsley’s right,” Remus admitted after a minute. Tonks closed her eyes and nodded. Moody muttered something to himself. “Let’s hurry,” Tonks said firmly. She was in Auror mode now. “We’ve wasted precious time already.” Kingsley would later recall something Alice Longbottom had once told him: “War means making hard decisions, Kingsley. Even if you try to do the right thing, that one right thing may have devastating results. And those moments are the ones you always remember as though they only just happened, the ones that will stop you in your tracks when you least expect. That’s why you must remember what I am about to tell you: it was not your fault.”
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