The landing came out of nowhere. He’d never really tried it this way, and his mind raced with endless thoughts, so Sirius guessed he was quite lucky not to be without his left ear or his tail. Professor Dumbledore had asked him to return to Remus’s place; he’d done just that and ended up at an empty house. Sirius caught himself as his paws slid on the slick pavement and jumped out of the way as a car, a black one, slammed on its brakes. Sirius watched a rat scamper along a brick wall. A homeless woman dressed in tattered clothes and swinging a red bag stared at him. These days, he checked all filthy, disease carrying vermin. He matched the lady’s look and played the part, rushing over to catch the rat in his paws.
“That’s disgusting,” she said, walking over and scratching him behind the ears. Sirius, feeling it squirming around and gnashing his teeth, swallowed. The homeless lady took a hunk of cheese out of newspaper and offered it to him. “Where are you headed?”
Sirius gagged, cleared his throat and led her down the narrow street lined with dilapidated building. He stopped outside of a pub and scratched himself wondering if she, too, was flea bitten. He looked around to see if she was still there. Luckily, he’d lost her. He slipped off to the side, relieved himself by the bench and shifted before he got to his feet. Sirius ran a hand through his hair, figured he was wasting his time because it was just Remus. When he looked back, checking for the smelly hag, Sirius took a double take to check the nicer view: he held the door open for a skinny thing with violet hair and tight jeans.
“Wotcher,” she said.
“Sure thing,” he said, eventually meeting her eyes. He followed her inside and nodded at Remus, who sat at the far end. “The things you miss when you live in a cell.”
“What?” Remus flipped his shot glass over and asked the barman for another. He went pale when he read Sirius’s expression. “What happened? You have something in your teeth.”
Sirius grinned at him when the young lady sat on his other side and ordered rum. He pulled a tail from between his teeth and set it on the bar. “It’s not who you think.”
“You!” Remus burst out laughing and nearly dropped his glass.
A man with bloodshot eyes sat rallying off some tale about stolen merchandise with the barman. He looked gone, with another one to top him off; he’d be passed out on the bar. When the man took a breath, green smoke blocked his view. Sirius doubted that he could see straight away. From this short distance, the man smelled like he’d been keeping fine company with his homeless friend. If nothing else, folks always scrounged enough for a smoke and a drink.
“Sirius!” The man announced it to the world.
Sirius hunched over and cursed. He was tall, so it did no good. He already stuck out dressed in these robes, and there was no need to draw attention. Remus hissed at him, but Sirius asked for another drink and got to his feet. He yanked the man up by his coat and debated holding this outside. The man reached in the pocket of his long coat. Sirius caught him fast, twisting his other hand back. The barman, a young chap, pulled out of a pick up line with the young woman and opened his mouth to calm things.
“You don’t want to do that, Dung,” said Sirius, accidently spilling a beer over the counter. He snatched a tiny box from Mundungus and took the pipe for good measure. “What’s this?”
“Nothin, ain’t nothing,” said Dung, sighing when Sirius released him. “Ain’t you dead or dyin’?”
“Yeah, I’m dead, Dung.” Sirius rolled his eyes and offered him an empty barstool. Remus raised his eyebrows and drummed his fingers on the menu. The lady stirred her drink with a straw. Dung, who couldn’t figure out the mechanics off putting his backside in the chair, just stood there. “Remember him?”
Mundungus nodded. Sirius wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but after the man had been held over with a couple of drinks, he took it as a yes. Remus ordered food and struck up a conversation with the lady. Sirius banked everything on the hopes that Remus had kept her well hydrated so that she wouldn’t get too suspicious. The place was packed. Sirius bid his time, trying to think of where he should start with this madness. It had been a long night, and he knew none of it would made good sense if he had been in sober company. Remus, the responsible one, had taken a single shot and hadn’t touched his wine glass.
“It’s like this,” said Sirius, taking a deep breath as the rum shot through his throat. He had worked his way through an appetizer and the barman refilled it without asking. “He’s back.”
“Who?” Dung looked around, expecting another drunken fool to join their party. Remus put his face in his hands. Dung looked at their faces and understood he’d missed something. “Now, lads, we can’t go ‘round like back in the day, and I got things I gotta do things, people to see, and if some lad’s late””
“”and we’re going to have to do something with you if you don’t shut up,” hissed Sirius, snatching a napkin out of the holder. “Anyone got something to write with?”
The woman on Remus’s left reached in her bag, clicked a pen, and handed it over. Sirius scrawled a word on the napkin and put it in Mundungus’s hand. On second thought, Sirius knew that was a bad idea, too, but, judging by the way Mundungus was huffing and sputtering over there, he caught the message. He wasted another drink, spilling it down front. Sirius burnt the napkin with a lighter when Mundungus reached for another smoke.
“He-he-he…” The first syllable caught inside his throat. Sirius sat back, letting him swallow the truth. It hit him that they’d be going through plenty of scenes like this over the summer as they banded the group back together. Mundungus’s brain crashed and he finally resorted on denial. “Who lied to you? Sirius, no offence, mate, but you’ve been out of the loop for a while now, and things have changed.”
“Actually, Dung,” said Remus quietly, jumping in. “Things are pretty much the same. Look around.”
“He can’t,” Sirius pointed out. The young lady snorted in her drink. “Who’re you?”
She didn’t answer. Sirius had been out of the game for a long, long time, longer than he’d like to admit, actually, and that only irked him. There were pressing matters thrown on the bar, sure, but he gave it a shot and played along with her. She looked vaguely familiar, and this made matters worse, because he couldn’t place her face. He knew those eyes. Terrified, he snapped his fingers, piecing a scenario together, though he hoped this wasn’t it.
“Years ago, I went out with my cousin and her husband, some bloke,” he said, waving his hand. He watched her, seeing if he caught a hint of recognition. “No, I didn’t “ we weren’t together, it’s not like that “ well, anyway, he was all worried because he wanted to dress up their kid for this thing. Anyway, there was this barmaid. Sarah? Marcy? Isla? Jessica?”
He ran down a list and invented a couple names to fill in the blanks. She caught onto that.
“A bunny? Or a ballerina?” she asked, mildly interested.
“Yeah, a ballerina with polka dots, you know,” he said conversationally. Sirius didn’t know how in the world he randomly remembered that. The little girl had acted all fussed about it, too, and Andromeda had threatened to send her off to bed before it was dark. Perhaps all girls donned themselves in those costumes, little princesses for the night. In any case, this earned him grounds to hold her attention for a little longer, so he went along with it. “She talked a lot. Can’t remember her name.”
“Don’t trouble yourself with it,” she said, annoyed.
Sirius backtracked, thinking he’d said something wrong. Everything offended women. Remus, he had no doubt, had more experience in this area than he. In school, Sirius had been with a handful of girls, but they were always the same ones because he always came back. He’d given off the aura of a ladies’ man for the fun of the chase; it was far from the truth. Once he had joined the Order, there was little time for that, so he had stayed committed to keeping the secret. Well, there was a time with Marlene McKinnon, yet it came and went, and, went she died, he kept his distance. Her heart belonged to someone else; Marlene had never chased after him.
“Well, that still don’t mean nothin’,” Mundugus insisted, challenging him. “You take things at face value, lad, listen’ to nonsense when it comes up a nobody.”
Sirius swung back, ready to knock him a good one. Remus locked his fingers around his wrist.
“Sirius, you were there,” said Remus, “and we were not, so we don’t know what’s going on. If it’s all the same to you, I’ve paid for a quiet evening, and I’d rather drink my wine instead of having it thrown in my face. So, just take a deep breath, while we listen, and start from the beginning.”
Sirius told them everything. It felt good to this truth, a dark, weighty one, of his chest. He felt exhausted, for he’d been running on fumes. Of course, he wasn’t stupid. The public wouldn’t dare bank their lives on a kid, especially not with the Ministry spreading their word. In a few short hours, this madness, dictated to reporters, would flood the papers. Everyone would believe what they hear from officials, which was one of the reasons they had to act fast and hit the ground running. Sirius had only seen Harry for a brief time. He didn’t know anything about raising children, and he had laughed it off when Lily and James made the offer of calling him their son’s godfather. Sirius had missed a lot over the last thirteen years. There was no mistaking the horror on that boy’s voice.
“Harry Potter.” He got to his feet and dared Dung to speak against him. “If you don’t want in, that’s fine. You’ll get the message sooner or later. You tire of nonsense from a nobody? You have no idea what he’s been through tonight, Dung, and once you walk out of this, there’s no coming back. You want the protection of the Order or not? Dumbledore asked for you. We don’t need you. ‘Night.”
His words were empty. It felt nice getting back in the swing of things, just to test the limits. Sirius laid his tip on the damp counter, nodded at the barman, and took his leave. Remus was a bit slow on the uptake. The exit could have been a better one. Sirius would have laughed it off if he wasn’t so angry at the bloodshot idiot. Dung, like Hagrid, needed more help than it worth cleaning messes up that he’d left behind. He had his uses, though, so this was a shame.
“Nicely done.” Remus put his hands in his pockets and waved good-bye to his friend. He cleared his throat. “Sirius.”
Sirius didn’t want to hear it. Remus could put his foot down and spin straw out of his reason for all he cared. It didn’t matter. There were other Order members, Arabella Figg, for one, who wouldn’t dare hesitate striking up the Order again. Professor Dumbledore had planned on paying her a visit as soon as the school term ended. His hands were tied down at the moment with foreign allies and whatnot, so he needed others to lay the groundwork in his absence. The old crowd had survived by luck, and, Mundungus, of all people, shouldn’t dare question where his loyalties lie.
“Cedric Diggory died?” Remus shook his head.
Sirius shrugged his shoulders. He’d thought that the young man’s name had been Cedric, but, honestly, with Harry, he hadn’t really listened to anything else. There should have been no reason for to happen. In hindsight, walking through scenarios did them no good. Deep down, Sirius felt bad for the young man’s parents. It could have played out differently, all the same: Harry only needed to make one wrong move, and Voldemort had paralysed him with fear. Had Sirius been put in the same position, and he was a man, he wouldn’t had been so lucky. It had nothing to do with luck; it had nothing to do with his age. Harry deserved respect for someone, anyone, even the damn homeless brood, to believe him.
“He was a bright student,” said Remus. “He beat me at my own exam. I tossed my own answer key for N.E.W.T. and went by his marks for the critique. Nobody touched him. Not even close.”
“Getting the younger ones to do your dirty work?” Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. “I never researched in the library for stuff. Finally catching on, eh, Moony?”
“Who got higher marks and left with distinction?” Remus wiped the confidence off Sirius’s face with a look. “What was that? I’m sorry. Yeah. Didn’t catch that.”
Sirius held his tongue. He’d let Remus have his moment, for he’d deserved it. In school, Remus had worked harder than anyone Sirius had ever known. It was for the education, yes, but mainly Remus had worked for that nod from his teachers. He never boasted about it. His professors, of course, had no idea who he was, and it was especially worth his time when Professor McGonagall handed him a comment or looked to him to help his classmates.
“So, who’s the girlfriend?” Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Enquiring minds want to know.”
“She’s not my “” Remus turned bright red, looked over his shoulder, pulled a straight face, and cleared his throat. “Since when are you of two minds?”
“Nice comeback,” said Sirius sarcastically. “Maybe we can share her. Who knows?”
“Sirius,” Remus chuckled. “I’ve spent the night chatting with her, and she’s not who you think she is.”
“They all say that,” added Sirius.
He had watched Mundungus slip into the bathroom and had waited around baiting the trap. He knew Dung wasn’t too clever. Guilt didn’t hook him because he lived by his own rules. Sirius had never spent time with Mundungus outside of the Order because he had gotten into enough trouble on his own with Remus, James and Peter in tow. He knew the type. They need the inside scoop, a lookout, and Dung needed the protection. Dumbledore got his connections for a reason, and he had obviously saved this crook’s neck with the promise of a returned favour.
“Sirius, it ain’t the same no more,” he insisted, dragging his feet towards them. Mundungus had given up and rubbed his dirty hands together. “I need a stash, a safe place.”
“Wait.” The girl had jumped off her barstool and tripped over it as it fell in the same fluid movement. The barman, who was used to this routine, helped to her feet and promised to see the show tomorrow night. “I’m coming. I’m in.”
“She’s falling for you,” said Sirius, grinning from ear to ear. “Good night.”
“Hey!” Remus had picked up one of the napkin holders and missed by a long shot. “Are you going to listen to her?”
“What’s your name, miss?”
Sirius took her by the hand and led her outside. Mundugus scurried away and vanished with a pop once he got his little box back. Sirius admired her courage, but he thought that outside of getting a date, Remus had wasted his time with this one. He meant her no offence. Honestly, if he had a second chance at this offer and his friends had stayed out of it, Sirius thought that he might have reconsidered it. He decided to play the fool. If this girl, whoever she was, wanted in the Order, she’d have to come out and ask for it.
Sirius froze when she whipped out her wand and pointed it at his chest. “Not playing games, are you?”
“Don’t act like you know me,” she suggested, looking him up and down. “You don’t remember me?”
“Errrr ....” Sirius didn’t know what to say. “No? Don’t take that personally, I’m sure you’re great and very, very memorable, but I’ve been going through a lot lately. Please don’t hit me.”
“Why would I do that?” She cocked her head, confused. She stuck her wand in her pocket. “You know, for a mass murderer, you cower over nothing. I’m not touching you!”
“Women, they have their ways,” he said, “and you’re one of them, and if you don’t mind me saying, you have a really nice””
“”and I’m going to stop you before this gets weird,” she said, holding out her hand, “and then there’ll be an awkward silence, and that’s never fun. I’m Andromeda’s daughter. The ballerina?”
“Yeah,” said Sirius slowly, as the chase abruptly hit a brick wall. “You killed it. I’m going home now.”
“Why?” asked Remus holding back his laughter.
“I need to wash out my mouth,” said Sirius, refusing to look at their lady companion. “I need a drink, too, a strong one.”
With that, he got on his legs and changed back into a dog. Remus filled her in with a quick explanation; he told her not to worry about it. They walked along the sidewalk together, and he listened to their conversation. It was nothing special, and passerby, the weird ones who hung out at night, passed them off as an everyday couple enjoying a stroll. They stopped outside Remus’s place and Sirius rolled his eyes when Remus shook her hand and wished her a good night.
“That was fun,” she said, kneeling down at petting him. “Seriously, though, they have flea treatment. I’ve always wanted a dog, and Mum always said if I waited long enough, one would show up in the garden. I’d use this to my advantage, though, if I was you, but sadly, you’re not my type.”
“Oh, and you may want to save the drink for tomorrow when Kingsley arrives,” said Remus, ignoring Sirius’s low growl. “You’re going to need it. Forget the glass.”