Work Text:
August 1979
“Get the masks!” barked Sirius, whipping his wand about him with such fury that it was little more than a wooden blur producing bolts of bright light. “Get the masks! I want to see their faces!”
As he shouted into the hot summer night, he sliced through the air with his wand like a knife, and the Death Eater he was dueling was thrown back with such force that it propelled him twenty feet; he fell to the ground and lay there, unmoving. Sprinting to the man’s side, he ripped the mask from his face impatiently. The Death Eater had a thin, pointed face, but it was evidently not the one Sirius was searching for; he grimaced, smashed his heel hard down onto the man’s face, then quickly joined the fray once more. Wand outstretched, he yelled a curse over the din and flicked his wand sharply; before him, the Death Eater bearing down on Peter was thrown aside. Immediately Sirius retrieved Peter’s wand from where it had been thrown to the ground when he was disarmed and shoved it into his friend’s hand.
“What have I told you?” he shouted angrily. “Protect your wand, Wormtail! For the last damn time-”
A burst of green light flew in Sirius’s direction; face drained of color, Peter let out an almighty squeal and threw himself at Sirius, knocking the other man over. Sirius’s long black hair, which was almost down to his waist and tied lazily near the bottom with an enchanted golden string, was splashed with mud leftover from summer thunderstorms. The Death Eater whose curse had only just missed them leered at them both behind her skeletal mask; as she raised her wand once more, a shot of red light hit her squarely in the back and she fell to the ground, Stunned.
“Don’t be so hard on him, Sirius!” called Lily, kneeling down beside the Death Eater to remove her mask. “It’s a bit stressful for everyone at the moment, in case you hadn’t noticed!”
Sirius ran by her, reaching out to grasp her arm in the process, tugging her back to where James and Remus were still dueling Death Eaters of their own. She had not yet pulled the mask from the Death Eater’s face. Bewildered, she protested, “You just said-”
“Don’t bother,” he answered her; behind his shoulder, he called, “Peter, fall back and contact the Order! We’ll be all right but we might need some Ministry escorts for our unconscious friends!”
As Peter did so, Lily followed Sirius. Close to his side, she murmured, “That’s optimistic.”
“It’ll give him something to do,” he said, then the both of them bellowed, “Stupefy!”
The Death Eater dueling James blocked both of their spells, but James took advantage of the opportunity to land a punch squarely in his face.
“James!” screamed Lily. “Use your damn wand, will you!”
James gave a shout of laughter in response, shooting a grin her way before hexing the man before him. “That’s what you said last night, too!”
Even in the midst of battle, Sirius roared with laughter. Remus yelled, “I can’t believe I’m going to die listening to your stupid jokes, Prongs!”
“Hey!” shouted James. “They’re not stupid!”
“And you’re not going to die!” added Lily, joining Remus’s side as Sirius went to James’s. The Death Eater he and Sirius were dueling was smaller than the one Sirius had felled, but he was exceptionally skilled, performing magic they couldn’t even recognize; Dark Magic, they assumed, those curses which Voldemort taught his followers alone. After a moment, the grin had disappeared from Sirius’s face and he sunk into steely determination, the tip of his tongue caught in his front teeth as he fought. James held his own, but no one could duel quite like Sirius, and James allowed his friend to take the lead, stepping back ever so slightly.
The Death Eater stumbled, his mask slightly cracked where James had punched him. As a piece fell away Sirius’s eyes widened as he peered into his face.
Again, a flicker of disappointment seemed to flicker across Sirius’s face, but it was quickly replaced with jeering glee. “Rabastan? Is that you?”
The Death Eater snarled at him and threw another curse, which Sirius easily deflected. “Rabastan?” muttered James out of the corner of his mouth.
“Lestrange,” added Sirius. Rabastan became suddenly more furious. His incantations were no longer verbal, but he slashed his wand through the air even faster now, teeth bared in anger and concentration. “Whole family’s evil as they get – very impressive that my cousin managed to find a family worse than our own to marry into, really – always was ambitious, that one-”
With another hex, Sirius blasted off Rabastan’s mask completely. Rabastan let out a high-pitched scream of fury and cast another Killing Curse, which soared so close to James’s ear that he heard it whistling by him, sending a chill down his skin.
By Remus’s side, Lily had conjured great thick ropes from the tip of her wand, and had used them to encase the Death Eater they were dueling tightly. As he struggled against the binds – she was not sure they would hold – she asked Remus, in a low voice, “Who’s Sirius looking for? Can’t be Bellatrix, he didn’t even bother with the woman I was fighting.”
His breath coming heavily – it was the full moon in a week’s time, and illness was beginning to set in – Remus answered, “Regulus, I expect.”
“His brother?” asked Lily, brow creased in concern. “Isn’t he still at Hogwarts?”
Remus gave a noncommittal shrug. He looked uncomfortable. “Dumbledore got word somehow that he doesn’t intend on returning for his last year. Sirius was so upset when he heard he actually went back to Grimmauld Place.”
“His parent’s place?” she asked, glancing anxiously up at the Death Eater bound before her. “How did that go?”
Remus shook his head. “He didn’t say much about it,” he answered. “In fact, he didn’t say much at all for about three days afterwards.”
“Ah,” said Lily. “That bad?”
“Possibly worse.”
Behind them, Rabastan Lestrange seized suddenly and let out a howl of pain, clutching his left arm, and suddenly he was gone. A moment later Lily jerked her gaze around to see that the thick ropes she had conjured were empty. As Sirius looked around he saw that the other two Death Eaters they had fought tonight had both also disappeared.
There was a beat of silence among them.
And then James said, “That can’t be good.”
“Did they Disapparate?” asked Remus.
“Don’t think so,” answered Sirius. Instinctually, all of them slowly moved towards each other, closing ranks into a tight circle, backs together. “Looks a bit like they’ve cleared the battlefield, if you ask me.”
“What does that mean?” She sounded as frightened as they all were, but she had never been a part of their group at Hogwarts: she had not learned, as they had, to pretend she was fearless. Sometimes Remus thought it was this vulnerability which so attracted James to her; the handsome, wealthy, privileged good pureblood son that he was, fear came to him more easily than it did to Remus or Sirius, and Remus knew it cost him something to repress it.
“It means,” said Remus quietly, “something else is coming.”
The darkness seemed to hum and whirr with organic nighttime life, as if it were covering up the sounds of potential footsteps, the machinations of the universe, like everything else in their world, conspiring against them. After a few long seconds, Sirius was the one to drop his wand first. “Well, we didn’t round any of them up,” he sighed. “But we survived. And had a hell of a fight, honestly, that was the most fun I’ve had in weeks. Only wish Bella’d been here too, been itching to duel her ever since-”
There were a chorus of loud CRACKs, and so quickly it was lost amidst the sounds of Apparition all around them, a woman’s voice cried gleefully, “Crucio!”
Instantly, Sirius crumpled to the ground, screaming. James shouted his friend’s name, falling to his side as Remus and Lily both cast hexes past them, to where Bellatrix Lestrange grinned at them wildly, a triumphant sheen in her yellow eyes. Out of the darkness another figure arose, and with a wave of his wand their curses were blocked, and Bellatrix’s was lifted. Sirius gasped for air, uncurling his body slowly, the aftereffects of the curse coursing through his veins.
He raised his head just enough to look up in abject revulsion.
“You are too eager, Bella,” said a high, cruel voice. “We mustn’t get ahead of ourselves. Tonight we come in the spirit of – well. Perhaps ‘friendship’ is expecting too much.”
In one swift movement, Sirius leapt up from his knees, swiping his wand through the darkness and shouting, “Avada Kedavra!”
But even as he cast it, they knew it would not reach its intended target; in absolute silence, Voldemort appeared on their other side, now leering unpleasantly at Remus and Lily. The jet of green light disappeared into the darkness, perhaps to hit some unlucky nocturnal bird out for an innocent nighttime flight.
“Lupin, is it?” he asked, gleaming scarlet eyes fixed on Remus. Remus did nothing in response, only held his wand out stoically, jaw set in anticipation of the end. As if he could sense this, Voldemort let out a small laugh. “Do not be afraid, werewolf,” he said, his voice soft. “The Dark Lord welcomes your kind into his service. My vision is a society in which you would not be forced to hide.” He regarded Remus with a sort of bemused condescension, like a schoolteacher unimpressed at a student’s answer. “Do you not understand this?”
“I understand perfectly well what you are,” said Remus quietly. “And exactly what you want with my kind.”
“You do not,” said Voldemort, softly. “If you did, you would join me.” His cold gaze flickered to the rest of them. “All of you.”
“What about me?” demanded Lily. Her wand, which had been shaking in her hand when Sirius was tortured, was held high and steady now. Color drained from James’s face, silently begging Lily to say no more. “I’m a Mudblood,” she said, spitting the word back into Voldemort’s face, stripping it of its power. “Would you want filth like me in your little gang?”
He regarded her coldly; for a moment, something struck Lily’s heart, and she could not draw a breath, sure that it would be her last. But then Voldemort smiled at her, although it did not reach his snakelike crimson eyes.
“We wizardkind are not so many,” he said quietly. “We welcome even those of impure blood, Lily Evans, as long they make good pureblood marriages.”
His eyes flickered to the hand which held her wand, to the engagement ring on her fourth finger, and then back up and beyond her shoulder. James met the Dark Lord’s gaze with a steely determination.
“Who knows?” asked Voldemort, and the question sounded so genuine that, if they were not surrounded by a dozen Death Eaters with their wands raised, it almost could have been sincere. “In a few generations, perhaps even your tainted blood will be…purified.”
Lily spat into his face.
Wordlessly, Voldemort flicked his wand.
Lily’s eyes widened as her hands flew to her throat, gasping desperately for air that would not come. James shouted, “Lily!” and Sirius once more cast a curse straight at Voldemort, but his cousin moved forward to blocked it, shooting another back at him with a mad, frenzied laugh.
With another jerk of his wand, Voldemort lifted his curse. Lily drew in deep breaths, gulping precious air down to fill her lungs.
“Careful,” said Voldemort, his voice high but very soft. “I am a merciful Lord. But I punish nonbelievers all the same, Mudblood.”
“None of us would never follow you!” shouted Sirius, hanging on to James’s arm to keep himself steady, having only just lifted Bellatrix’s Jelly-Legs Jinx. “This war is just beginning, and trust me, we won’t let it end until you’re dead!”
“How – dare you!” hissed Bellatrix, edging towards her cousin with teeth bared. “You – insolent boy!”
“Now, now, Bella,” said Voldemort mildly, without glancing away from Sirius’s angry dark eyes. “Be kinder to your blood, will you? This boy has heard quite enough from his family already, don’t you think?”
Sirius stood taller now, letting go of James’s arm. He held his wand up and at the ready, chest thrown out, as if daring Voldemort to end his life. Beyond the circle of Death Eaters, crickets chirped loudly, piercing through the veil of night.
“Yes…” mused Voldemort lowly, peering inquisitively at Sirius. “I have heard many things about you, Sirius Black,” he said. “I have heard how your own family punished, renounced you… and for what? The crime of a premature Sorting?… The Hat has been wrong before, you know… Your parents were fools,” he crooned, as if in sympathy, “for the cruelty they showed you.”
Cautiously, James glanced between Voldemort and Sirius. The expression on Sirius’s face was one of blank surprise, which abruptly contorted into rage.
Sparks erupted from the tip of his wand as he threw himself not towards Voldemort, but sideways, snarling at the pack of Death Eaters waiting in a circle around them.
“Where is he?” he shouted, as James said, “Sirius, no!” and grabbed his friend, struggling to keep him from attacking the Death Eaters nearest to them. “Where is he?” screamed Sirius, voice echoing in the dense nighttime. “Regulus! Regulus, you – you-” he turned once more to face Voldemort, scowling, face flushed in the summer heat. He pushed James roughly off him, chest heaving with breath.
Lowly, Sirius asked, “Where is he? Did you bring him here?”
Voldemort did not answer, only watched Sirius with those inhuman eyes. He fingered his wand thoughtfully, pale hands wide and spiderlike.
He extended those long-fingered white hands palms upwards in a small shrug. “It is up to you, not I, to mend your family’s differences,” he said. “I can only say that with a bloodline like yours, eldest son to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, your support is…” he trailed off, considering Sirius thoughtfully “…most desirable.”
“Obviously my brother hasn’t told you everything, then,” Sirius retorted. “I am no son of my father’s house. I’ll die before I join you.”
“Oh,” said Voldemort, with a very slight nod, “In that case, I assure you, you will.”
There was a moment’s silence.
Then the Dark Lord’s gaze slid to the man by Sirius’s side.
Softly, Voldemort said: “You have been quiet tonight, James.”
Both Lily and Sirius moved at once; Lily placed herself physically in between Voldemort and her fiancé, and Sirius uttered, “Don’t you dare speak to him.”
“I am sorry that your parents had to die, James,” continued Voldemort, ignoring both Lily and Sirius. “My servants can, on occasion, lose themselves in their devotion to the cause. I regret it.”
He paused for one moment.
“But you are a good pureblood boy,” he said, and for the first time, he sounded immensely tired, as if he were an old man imparting insight to another generation. “There is no reason in your death, child.”
“Don’t call me a child,” said James, his voice low and pulsing with anger.
“Oh, but you are,” said Voldemort. Any trace of gentleness evaporated from his voice, leaving only cold, bare fury. “Precocious, perhaps, but you are all little more than children who do not yet comprehend the wisdom of their elders. In your idle arrogance, you do not realize the foolishness of what you defend. Do you not see the grand vision I have for the world? For a society where we are – not oppressors, no, nothing so crude – but benevolent rulers, leaders of the Muggles into a new age, wherein we have no need to fear detection… wherein they do not fear us, but love us… is that not the ultimate power, as Dumbledore has so often said? Does love not conquer all?… You are all exceptionally bright, I know it, I have been told so many times… Can you not see what good you could bring to my cause?”
“By all means,” said Remus quietly; a flicker of disgust mingled with fury passed over Voldemort’s face like a shadow. “Keep talking. If you speed it up a bit, you might just be able to finish before the rest of the Order gets here.”
“That’s right,” said Sirius immediately. “Reinforcements will be here any moment, and then you’re dead.”
“Oh, no,” said Voldemort. He sounded disappointed. “That is where you are mistaken, Black. I am not dead. I cannot die.”
He looked around at the four of them.
“Let it never be said,” he said coldly, “that the Dark Lord does not first extend his hand before he draws his wand. Bella,” he said, his gaze jerking suddenly up to peer at his second-in-command. “My loyal servant. I grant your request. You may have Black.”
James saw Sirius’s knuckles go white, clenched around his wand.
“Yes, Master,” began Bellatrix humbly, her spine curved in a groveling bow. “Thank you… thank you, my Lord…”
“Unless,” said Voldemort, his voice high.
Bellatrix glanced up, her eyes bulging.
The Dark Lord paused, then glanced around his circle of Death Eaters.
“Yes,” he said. “A duel between brothers is in order, I should think. Regulus,” he raised his voice. “Regulus! Where are you?”
“NOW!”
Three spells shot out around them as Lily threw her wand into the air and shouted an incantation that arced gracefully upwards and fell around them like a bubble, encasing them. Voldemort said nothing; in distaste, he backed away from them, then disappeared into the night. Still, a dozen Death Eaters bore down on them, their curses repelled by Lily’s shield even as those cast by James, Sirius, and Remus shot out easily.
“I can’t hold this much longer!” she shouted. “We need to go as soon as I drop it! On my count! One – two – three-”
The silvery protection charm glittered once, then disappeared; Lily and James turned on the spot, Disapparating immediately – but through the brightness of multicolored jets of lights shot through the air, Remus could see Sirius – Bellatrix reached out savagely and her hand grasped the end of his hair, jerking him backwards as he let out an enormous shout-
Without thinking, Remus cried a curse into the night, slashed his wand, and then he too turned on the spot. The tight, oppressive darkness of Apparition clung to him even after he reappeared, shaking in fear – he should have grabbed hold of Sirius, should have waited a second longer, no matter the green bolt of light which he so narrowly avoided – James and Lily were there beside him, panting, but Sirius was nowhere to be seen, and for one terrible moment Remus met James’s eye and there was a grim stoicism there which Remus could not return-
And then with a great CRACK Sirius appeared, bringing with him a howl of rage and the odd scent of burnt hair.
Before relief had fully flooded into Remus’s lungs, he was shoved against a wall so roughly that it knocked the breath out of him. Lily shrieked Sirius’s name, but he just snarled at Remus.
“Why,” he hissed at him, genuine fury in his eyes, “the hell wouldn’t you aim – for – her – arm?”
Remus blinked at him. It took a moment for these words to process.
Then he lifted his own hands to Sirius’s, at his throat, and he started to laugh.
Sirius shook him angrily, but Remus just reached out to touch Sirius’s head; his long hair was gone, severed by Remus’s charm to get Bellatrix off of him.
“Oh, come off it, Padfoot,” he said, and the laughter was more relief than genuine humor. “You’re still pretty.”
“I mean it!”
“I only had a second, Sirius, and hair’s liable to come off much easier than a damn limb, isn’t it? If I hadn’t done something she could’ve followed you here, she might’ve k-”
But the word died in his mouth before he could say it. He’d made a habit of not saying it aloud, of avoiding the looming threat as best as he could. No point lingering over the inevitable.
Sirius held him still for a moment, peering into his eyes.
Lily said, “Hold on…Sirius, this is about your hair?”
“I love my hair,” he said gruffly. But he let go of Remus, took a step back. “You better hope it grows back overnight!” he said warningly, pressing a finger into Remus’s chest. “Or else Voldemort won’t be able to kill you, ‘cause I’ll have got to you first!”
Hearing his friend speak so glibly of death caused a pang in Remus’s heart, but he set his face in a grimace and tried not to show it.
They were standing in the drive of a regal-looking manor house smack in the middle of London; despite the time of night, there were still a number of people hurrying down the sidewalk beyond the gates. So immersed were they in their own nightly lives, they did not look up, saw nothing which happened in the courtyard of the grand mansion.
James lifted the great door knocker, which was cast in the shape of a swan about to take flight. The swan’s elegant neck swiveled to look at them, her wings unfurled.
“Password?” she asked, in a ringing voice.
Each member of the Order of the Phoenix had their own password, which they reset each time they returned to HQ. James gave his (“Felix Summerbee” – he always chose them after Chocolate Frog cards, claiming it was the only way he could remember), then Lily (“Blue Peter”), Remus (“Hinkypunk”), and then finally Sirius, who always chose the most unnecessarily rude and lengthy passwords – he cleared his throat and spoke clearly into the swan, “Va te faire foutre, trouduc!”
Remus, the only one of them who could understand a bit of French, let out a silent, long-suffering sigh.
The door swung open and a man thick older man greeted them, one electric-blue eye whizzing around its socket. “Excellent, Black,” he grunted, leading them in. “The rest of you might want to consider strengthening your own passwords – a phrase is much harder to crack than a single word.”
Sirius shot a smug look Remus’s way, and Remus asked in exasperation, “But do you know what it means?”
“I don’t care what it means,” Mad-Eye Moody replied shortly. “Each additional word makes it that much less likely a Death Eater’ll be able to guess, doesn’t it? Suppose that’s the kind of intuitive nature you pick up growing up in a house full of Dark wizards, eh?”
Sirius’s expression, which had just moments ago been glowing with arrogant pride, instantly fell. Glumly, he shot a half-hearted glare Moody’s way.
“Did Peter get back all right?” asked Lily, as they headed into the house. “He was supposed to let you know where we were.”
“Pettigrew?” growled Moody. “He’s here. Got a group together and tried to get back to you, but they couldn’t Apparate in, something was blocking them.”
“Yeah,” said James. “That would’ve been Voldemort.”
He said this just as they entered the kitchen; three people were waiting, the woman seated at the table, watching a younger man gently while another man stood at the hob. At the name, all three of their gazes jerked across the room.
“Oh, thank goodness,” sighed Alice Longbottom, leaning back in her seat. A smile broke out on her face and she reached out to take Peter’s hand, sitting beside her. “See? They’re all right,” she assured him. “It’s fine.”
“What happened?” asked Frank, adding more bacon to the pan without hesitation. “We just sent Emmeline and the Prewetts after you on brooms – Alastor, you should-”
From the tip of Moody’s wand burst a gigantic silver ram; it stood obediently before him for a moment, just long enough for him to growl, “They’re safe, head back.”
The ram seemed to nod its great horned head then sailed out of the room, racing to catch up with the reinforcements.
Exhausted from both the night’s work and the proximity to the full moon, Remus drew a seat and collapsed gratefully into it. Without waiting for him to ask, Frank poured him a cup of tea. Only James remained standing, quietly insisting that he help Frank.
Alice was the one who asked. “So – you met him?” she asked. “V-Voldemort?”
Like all pureblood families, hers had instilled in her a fear of the name, a fear of which even Auror training and two years of working in the Order had not yet fully cured her.
“Yes,” answered Lily. “And Sirius was really brave, the first thing he did was cast a Killing Curse straight at him.”
This might have been a roundabout way of cheering Sirius up, for he still looked unhappy at the loss of his long hair, which Frank and Alice thankfully both had the tact not to mention.
“Right at him?” asked Frank, with mild awe. “Blimey, Sirius, you ever think of becoming an Auror?”
Moody let out a snide grunt. “Brave? It was stupid, that’s what it was. Damn lucky the Dark Lord didn’t end you right there! Anyhow, Sirius, I wouldn’t certify you even if you passed Auror training with highest marks,” he said. “The Blacks lack certain necessary qualities.”
“And what might those be?” demanded Sirius angrily, eyes flashing.
“Self-control, for one thing,” barked Moody, his magical eye coming to an abrupt halt to focus on Sirius. “Discipline. And a certain respect for authority figures. None of which you have ever indicated to me that you possess.”
Sirius eyed him for one moment. Then he relented with a shrug. “Fair enough,” he said, leaning forward, elbows on the table.
“Did Voldemort speak to you?” asked Frank, frowning. Beside him, James prepared food silently. “What did he want?”
Uncomfortably, none of them answered at first; then Remus finally admitted, “Well, it rather seemed like he was…recruiting.”
Moody, Frank, and Alice exchanged dark looks.
“Knew it was coming sooner or later,” growled Moody. “Two purebloods and a werewolf. You four make an attractive lot to him.”
“But why would he want me?” asked Lily. “I’m not pure-blood.”
“You’re marrying one,” Alice pointed out, nodding towards James. “Voldemort isn’t stupid, he knows we can’t all intermarry without bogging down the gene pool-”
“Yeah, look at my family,” added Sirius sarcastically.
“-so I don’t think he minds Muggleborn witches so much, as long as they carry on pureblood names.”
“Fantastic,” said Lily grimly. “A pureblood supremacist, and a misogynist.”
“But we refused him,” said Remus, looking up at Alice in confusion. “Why would he even bother to let us live?”
Alice opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, someone else spoke. “Wanted to give us some time to think it over, I expect,” said James, turning around to face them all wearily. “Thought we’d maybe come to our senses about it later.”
“But that’s insane,” said Sirius, lifting his head. “He’s got to know there’s no way any of us would ever join his side.”
“I don’t know,” began James slowly, brow furrowed in a frown. “He made a bit of sense, didn’t it?”
At the expressions of horror on his friend’s faces, he added quickly, “I’m not saying I agree with him, of course I don’t – but didn’t you hear the way he made it sound? All that talk of a free society, a place where we wouldn’t have to hide…about love, and,” apologetically, he said, “and about your family, Sirius, like he felt genuinely sorry for you. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but he was obviously trying to convince us it wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, if that’s the way he gets people on his side – then it’s not so much of a mystery, is it? I can see how it’d be tempting, especially to people – people like us,” he finished feebly, with a half-glance at Remus, who suspected that James only said us to avoid saying you.
“Yeah, but he didn’t seem to mean it with me, did he?” asked Sirius. “He was about to let Bella finish me off.”
They all noticed that Sirius did not mention his brother, and they all politely did not point it out.
“Honestly,” said Frank, “at this point, Voldemort’s got to know that out of all of you, you’re the lost cause, Sirius.” Sirius seemed to perk up slightly at this comment, chest puffed out in pride. “Most of us hate Death Eaters indiscriminately, but you’ve got that special hatred born from personal connection. He probably never expected to get you.”
“Then he doesn’t know the rest of us as well as he thinks he does,” said James firmly. “Because if there’s one thing Voldemort could do to get me to hate him even more, it’s murder my friends.”
Sirius seized Remus’s cup of tea and raised it high. “Hear, hear!”
James served breakfast to Frank and Alice, both of whom were about to start the day’s work despite it being so early that the sun was not yet even visible on the distant horizon. Only Lily and Sirius additionally accepted food, but James stubbornly put a plate in front of Remus anyway, knowing his friend’s tendency to eat poorly during the approach of the full moon. Moody took off, and as soon as they finished their breakfast Frank and Alice both gave them all their best – Frank said solemnly, “I’m proud to be working with you all – the finest group of Gryffindors I’ve ever known. You’ll help us win this war, I know it,” – and then they too left, returning to their Auror work.
Unhappily, Sirius gingerly touched the back of his head, fingered the singed-off hair. Peter finally spoke. “What happened there?” he asked.
“My fault,” said Remus ruefully. “Bellatrix had him by the hair, I acted on instinct. In retrospect,” he added, raising his voice to silence Sirius, who had just opened his mouth pugnaciously, “I should indeed have aimed to cut off her arm. My apologies for failing to produce gruesome carnage.”
Knowing his friend spoke sense, Sirius grumbled, “Could’ve at least gotten her wand…” Begrudgingly, Sirius ran his hands all over his hair once more. “And right before the wedding, too!”
Amused, Lily said, “Well, good thing it’s not your wedding, isn’t it?”
“Oh, come on Lily,” he retorted. “It’s a little bit mine too. Where would you and James be if not for me?”
“Dating by third year, I expect,” said James; Lily’s expression flickered just a little bit at this, but it was clear she did not want to argue.
“Besides,” added Sirius, “now that we know Voldemort’s got it personally in for me, probably won’t live long enough to get married myself, will I? And now,” he said, nodding pointedly at Remus, “Moony here has ruined it for us all.”
Remus smiled sheepishly, and James said, “Get off it Sirius, it’s not that bad. Besides, Padfoot’s coat was getting a bit shaggy, and all those fleas couldn’t’ve been comfortable.”
“Yeah,” agreed Lily, with a sly smirk. “You’re dead sexy either way, to be honest. In fact I quite like it better short, you’ve got such pretty cheekbones and this really makes them stand out-”
Sirius looked like he was slowly deflating, and Remus said, “A bit too far, I think, Lily. Let him mourn for a little while.”
James let out a yawn and Peter asked, “Are you staying the night here?”
“Nah,” answered James, but his expression instantly sobered. He avoided catching any of their eyes. “Think we’ll head back to Godric’s Hollow. The house is mine now, after all.”
Lily watched her fiancé with a gentle compassion in her eyes.
“Your mother’ll be a wreck, Peter,” added James, plastering a forced smile across his face. “I bet she’ll report you missing any second now. That woman worries too much.” Glancing at his other friends, he asked, “Sirius?”
“Moved my stuff here last night,” he replied. “Turns out two of my Muggle neighbors were Imperiused. I set up a couple enchantments, hope that’s enough to keep them safe.”
James didn’t ask Remus, whom he knew had been staying at Order of the Phoenix Headquarters since he moved out of his parents’ house, insisting that they needn’t worry about him. Mad-Eye Moody had agreed with uncharacteristic enthusiasm, seizing the opportunity to keep a werewolf out of Voldemort’s clutches.
“Well, then,” said James. He got to his feet. “Lily?”
As always when the friends parted, Lily turned first to Remus, hugging him and kissing him on the cheek, then Sirius, to whom she gave an affectionate peck on the lips, and then Peter, whom she held extra tightly and said, “You did really well tonight, Peter, you were so brave.”
He flushed pink. As she took James’s hand, Sirius – one hand still gingerly examining the burnt hair on the back of his head – said gruffly, “You watch yourselves, alright? Voldemort might decide you’ve run out of time to make your decision any minute, and then he’ll come straight for you both.”
“We know,” said Lily. “I promise we won’t try to be heroes – we’ll come right back here if things get sticky.”
James looked a bit put-out at this. “That’s not very Gryffindor of you, is it?” he asked.
She replied simply, “Neither is being dead, dear.” She put a little emphasis on the last word, then grinned at the boys. Sirius let out a bark of laughter.
James clasped a hand with Sirius’s for just one moment. “Be safe,” he said, to all of them. To Sirius specifically, he added, “Be early on Wednesday, yeah? The Order’s going to be putting all sorts of protections up around the church and it’ll be safer if you’re there for all of them, OK?”
“James, James, James,” sighed Sirius heavily, holding James’s hand. “When have I ever let you down yet?”
“Well, shall I start chronologically, or alphabetically-?”
James grinned at him, bade farewell to the others, and they left. Peter went after them, leaving Remus and Sirius alone in the empty kitchen.
After a moment’s silence, Sirius got up and took his plate and Remus’s, only half finished, to the sink.
“Wednesday’s the wedding rehearsal?” asked Remus.
Sirius nodded. “Ought to be fun,” he said. “Nothing quite says ‘joyous celebration’ like a wedding where the groom’s parents were murdered just weeks earlier, does it? And Charles was going to walk Lily down the aisle, too.”
“Do you think she might ask you to step in?”
“Yeah, I expect. She said she’d really like if it her sister would, but Petunia hasn’t spoken a word to her since their parents died.”
Remus said nothing for a moment. Then, mildly, he added, “You’d think she and James might consider postponing the wedding. We only just had a funeral, and he’s still in the middle of sorting out his parents’ affairs.”
Sirius gave a shrug, watching the dishes scrub themselves under his spellwork. “They’re dead set on having it on the first,” he said. “You know, sort of symbolic – they met at Hogwarts, so they want to start their new lives the same day they started every new school year.” He looked around, grinning at Remus. “Quite corny, isn’t it? That’s what I keep telling them. And anyway, it’s not as if they’re planning a honeymoon or anything. They just want to hurry up and tie the knot while they still can. Just in case.”
There was another silence as the dishes dried themselves and soared into the cupboard.
“That’s morbid,” said Remus.
“It’s true,” answered Sirius.
“Maybe. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer not to spend the rest of my life, however long or short that may be, worrying about my own mortality.”
“Not worrying,” retorted Sirius. “You’ve got to learn to love it, Moony, that’s always been your problem. You worry too much.”
“I have more to worry about than the average person.”
“It’s all a matter of perspective,” Sirius shrugged.
This sent an odd, cold bolt of anger down Remus’s spine. No, it was not a matter of perspective; lycanthropy was not about perspective or attitude or any other useless advice he’d gotten over the years.
But Sirius had always been the irresponsible one, the thoughtless one. Coolly, Remus told him, “In that case, will you shut up about your hair? If it’s all about perspective, can’t you just choose to be happy about it?”
Knowing it was a petty thing to end with, Remus got up and headed upstairs, to the room which temporarily belonged to him. For a while, Sirius did nothing, sitting there alone in the kitchen.
By the next day, their short spat was forgiven and forgotten, except perhaps for the slight reconciliatory tone in Sirius’s voice as he asked Remus if he wouldn’t mind doing him a bit of a favor. His hair had not grown back in the night as he had hoped it would (“That’s not how hair works, Sirius,” Remus had sighed), and now it seemed inevitable: Sirius was about to get a proper haircut for the first time in years.
There was an Order meeting scheduled for the afternoon. As it was the last one that Dumbledore would attend before the start of Hogwarts term, it was expected that the entire Order would be there, and Sirius could not bear the thought of everyone seeing his singed coif.
So it was that Sirius found himself sitting on a chair they’d dragged into the biggest bathroom of the manor, peering anxiously at Remus in the mirror, who was surveying the back of Sirius’s head pensively.
“I’m sorry, Sirius,” he began with a sigh, “but it’s not going to be easy to salvage this. It might be safer if we just-”
“Don’t say shave it all,” said Sirius hoarsely.
“Well I’m not exactly a professional barber, am I? We could always go to a Muggle salon-”
“No,” said Sirius, shaking his head vigorously. Remus suspected that part of his refusal might be a latent distrust of Muggles he had never quite managed to shake, not even after achieving an O in his Muggle Studies N.E.W.T. “Just…snip off the uneven bits, yeah? And you’ve got to cut it in the front so it’s all even… maybe I could have a bit of a fringe, like in fourth year, d’you remember that haircut?”
“Once again,” said Remus, “I feel obligated to reiterate that I am not incredibly skilled when it comes to-”
“Oh, just get on with it,” snapped Sirius, settling into the chair, glaring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
With a deep, steadying breath, Remus retrieved a pair of sharp scissors from the cabinet. Immediately, Sirius balked.
“What are you doing with those?” he yelped.
“Er…cutting your hair?”
“Aren’t you going to use your wand?”
“No,” answered Remus. He held up the scissors. “I’m really not confident with this either way, but these at least make me feel like I have a bit more control. They’re what my mum uses, anyway.”
“Oh, well, of course, if your mum uses them-”
Remus rapped Sirius on the back of the head. “Don’t get mouthy. Not all of us have a complex about our mothers like you do, you know-”
It looked as if Sirius wanted to retort, but in a great feat of self-restraint, he stopped himself. Remus was rather impressed. “Just do it,” he grumbled.
As the first chunk of Sirius’s dark hair fell to the bathroom floor, Sirius let out a low, piteous moan. With every snip he got paler and paler, mourning each strand as if they were indelible pieces of himself. After a while Remus moved around to the front, cutting the long strands which had not been damaged, blocking Sirius’s reflection in the mirror.
Sirius didn’t close his eyes, but stared dully straight through Remus’s body, eyes slightly glassy.
After some time in silence – Remus was pleased with how it was going, didn’t look half bad – Sirius spoke up abruptly.
“I thought for a moment there it wouldn’t work,” he said.
Remus glanced down at him, then returned to his snipping. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, you know.” He stopped. There was a beat of silence. A flash of a smile appeared on his face, and he glanced up at Remus, moving his head in the process so that Remus nearly chopped off a chunk he had not been aiming for. “Last time anyone tried to cut my hair was when I was fourteen. I let it grow out all of third year, do you remember?”
“Yes,” answered Remus. “You borrowed those horrible pink clips from Mary Macdonald.”
“They weren’t horrible- anyway. My mother disapproved, not that that was much of a surprised. I was kicking and screaming the whole time, she practically had to tie me down to do it, but she tried to cut my hair, and…” The smile on his face appeared once more, spreading broadly. “And she couldn’t,” he said simply.
“She couldn’t?” asked Remus, raising his eyebrows. “Why not?”
“Dunno. Some kind of kid-magic, you know? She did try blasting it off at one point, and even that didn’t work. Gave me a bit of a nasty burn on my scalp, though.”
Snipping the scissors in front of Sirius’s face teasingly, Remus asked, “I don’t suppose she resorted to bog-standard non-magical methods, did she?”
“She did, in fact,” Sirius said, grinning. “Well, she tried it with a steak knife, but in her defense she wasn’t very well versed in household tools; we had Kreacher for that.”
Remus made a little noise of surprise. “Do mine ears deceive me, or did I just hear Sirius Black defend his poor old mother?”
“If you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”
Remus chuckled, returning to his careful work. “So what you’re telling me is that you were secretly hoping your unconscious adolescent magic would make a sudden and dramatic return, preventing me from giving you a respectable haircut?”
Sirius didn’t answer.
Taken aback at the sudden silence, Remus glanced down at his friend’s face. His expression was oddly grave, and more than a little embarrassed.
“It’s stupid…” he murmured.
“No it’s not,” said Remus automatically. Scissors still in hand, he looked at Sirius’s reddening face, then took a step back to lean against the sink. Remus felt a slight twinge of unease; authentic expressions of emotion from Sirius were very rare, and usually were caused by or resulted in a genuine meltdown, which was something he hoped to avoid. Still, he could not ignore the look on his friend’s face, which Remus suspected conveyed much more than Sirius would’ve liked to share.
There was an awkward sort of pause.
Then Remus said lowly, “Look, Sirius…I know this isn’t about your hair.” At the look on Sirius’s face, he added, “Not all about your hair, anyway. We all saw how furious you were at Regulus back there, and I know how much it gets to you that everyone keeps bringing up your family. Don’t look at me like that; I know it does.”
Sirius watched him bitterly, with heavily hooded eyes. “The only reason anyone ever brings it up is to remind me what I was supposed to be-”
“No,” said Remus firmly. “They do it to remind you what you’re not. And that is a good thing – it’s something that they are all impressed by, and something you should be proud of.”
There was an injury in Sirius’s gaze, a vulnerability that bled like Remus had rarely seen.
“I know how much you hated them,” continued Remus quietly. “How much you still hate them. Every time you went back to them for the summer holidays, James and I would start planning how to get you out of there, we saw how much you hated being trapped there. So, what I’m trying to say is, I…” he trailed off self-consciously, suddenly aware that Sirius couldn’t quite look him in the eye, “…get it. The hair thing, I mean. Your family never really allowed you to be yourself. So you took this one small thing, and held onto it. Your mother couldn’t take it away from you. And that gave you…something.”
He fell silent; now he was the embarrassed one.
To stave this off, he added quickly, “And to add to that, that Bellatrix is the reason you’re finally having to cut it again… I imagine that might sting.”
Remus didn’t want to address the fact that it was technically his own fault; thankfully, Sirius didn’t bring it up either.
“Also,” said Remus, straightening up once more and moving out of the way of the mirror, so Sirius could finally see his reflection once more, “I am doing one hell of a job here, Sirius. Lily was right, short hair does wonders for your cheekbones, look at you, you’re sexier than ever.”
Sirius couldn’t hold back a small smile, inspecting his own reflection carefully. “I suppose it’s not so bad,” he said.
“James’ll go mad,” said Remus, grinning. “Now you’ve basically got his hair, except better.”
“But that’s no surprise, really, is it?”
They laughed; after a few final adjustments, Remus was finished. Sirius spent a good ten minutes examining every angle of his new hairstyle in the mirror while Remus cleaned up.
It was with confidence and renewed swagger that Sirius finally exited the bathroom; they headed downstairs, where the meeting was due to start in half an hour’s time. On the way down, they passed a tall older witch who jumped in surprise when she saw Sirius, then cried, “Why, Sirius! I didn’t even recognize you! You look so handsome, my goodness-”
“Why thank you, Madam Meadowes,” he replied smoothly, sweeping into a bow and taking her hand, pressing it graciously to his lips. Remus rolled his eyes. “And you look fetching yourself tonight, might I add…”
Members continued to trickle into the large hall ten minutes after the time they had planned to start; many were talking loudly with one another, chortling at jokes and reveling in the pleasure of seeing everyone, for once, under relatively pleasant circumstances.
Mad-Eye Moody had clapped Sirius on the shoulder as he entered. “Very good,” he’d muttered gruffly. “I always said that long hair would be the death of you someday, all it’d take is one well-aimed jinx and before you know it, you’ve got a noose of your own damn hair around your neck-”
As soon as he entered, James hollered and sprinted to where Sirius sat, hands immediately in his friend’s hair. “Look at this!” he cried delightedly to Lily. “Look at this! Brilliant! Bloody brilliant!”
Lily too assured him he was very handsome, as did many others. James took a seat across from Sirius, Lily by his side; it started to turn into a funny little procession, as someone would first compliment Sirius on his new haircut, and then immediately grow somber and mournful as, across the table, they intimated their deepest condolences to James for the loss of his parents, as many members of the Order had not seen him since their murder.
Dumbledore was the last to arrive. When he finally strode through the door, there was an instant but momentary hush before conversation resumed at a slightly lower decibel. To Sirius’s surprise – Dumbledore had always had a decent sense of humor – he passed right by Sirius without a word.
The old wizard took his place at the head of the table. When he cleared his throat, the remaining chatter died down completely, and they all looked towards him.
He smiled.
“Welcome,” he said. “It is a great pleasure and honor to see all of you here tonight. Before we begin, I would first like to recognize those we have lost. The parents of an eleven-year-old Muggleborn witch were murdered on Sunday; their daughter, fortunately, was not at home when the Death Eaters came. She is still bound for Hogwarts, although in deep mourning. Evelyn Fudge – some of you may know her nephew, Cornelius – was found dead last week. And of course, we have lost our dear friends Charles and Victoria Potter, who are still with us in spirit, in the form of their brave son, James.
“I confess that I have little news to share with you all tonight. The Ministry of Magic continues to follow our advice, and has agreed to provide a team of ten Aurors at our disposal, should we need it. This will help us when we act directly and offensively; Alastor, thank you for your assistance in procuring us this support.”
Dumbledore held up his goblet of pumpkin juice to Moody, and everyone around the table did the same, some of them giving small, “Hear, hear”s and “Thanks, Moody”s.
“Additionally, I would like you all to be especially vigilant in the coming months where you come into contact with Voldemort’s inner circle. I have reliable knowledge that one of his Death Eaters may defect.”
“Which one?” asked Frank Longbottom, leaning in. “Not Malfoy, is it? I’ve been trying to get to him for a while now.”
“I cannot say,” answered Dumbledore calmly. “Still, do not trust too easily; this information could have been planted so that we might let down our guard.
“Finally, I would like to remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is out-of-bounds to students, and-” at the laughter around the table, he trailed off, eyes twinkling. Once the laughter died down, he continued, “Please pardon my little joke, friends, but if I may – I would indeed like to remind you that, come September first, my presence will not be found so often in these hallowed halls. I will instead be overseeing the students of Hogwarts; should any of you need to contact me there, I urge you to send an owl straightaway. However, I ask that you refrain from coming to visit me in person. The presence of too many unknown adults on Hogwarts grounds might very well alarm the students, and this is something I wish to avoid.
“This is not, as I have heard, the only change which will come to those at this table on September the first.”
He smiled down the table, at where Lily and James sat; she blushed, beaming back at him, and James glanced at his fiancée proudly, taking her hand.
Dumbledore said, “I would like to propose a toast to two of the most admirable young people I have ever had the great fortune to meet. Lily, James – I have had the pleasure of watching you two grow at Hogwarts, and I could not be more delighted that you two have found joy and happiness in this dark time. For what would we be – what would be the point in fighting at all? – if not for love?”
He raised his goblet to them, and a smattering of applause broke out around the table. Lily giggled, pulling her husband-to-be towards her for a kiss – Sirius wolf-whistled. Breaking apart, James called, “If I may, Professor, I’d like to propose a toast as well – to my best man, Sirius Black, who’s finally plucked up the courage to chop off that hideous mane, thank God – yeah, okay, I admit it Sirius, I hated the long hair – cheers!”
Dumbledore peered at Sirius above his half-moon spectacles as Sirius shouted at James, utterly betrayed. “To Sirius,” said Dumbledore, raising his voice above the hoots of laughter. “Who is, no matter the length of his hair or the words of his friends, always the most handsome man in the room.”
“Cheers to that, Professor,” said Sirius loudly, grinning. He winked at Dumbledore, and to everyone’s great delight, Dumbledore winked back.
“Now!” called Dumbledore. “I suspect that this is the last time for a long time that all of us will be together under the same roof, and not in the wake of some great tragedy, and so, for this reason, I must insist – that we take a picture.”
With a wave of his wand, the table in the middle of the room disappeared, goblets and all. An old-fashioned camera appeared on one side of the room, and the Order got to their feet, some a little more reluctantly than others, as Dumbledore strode through them, positioning them.
“Aberforth, in the back with me I think!... Benjy, you and Emmeline at the front… No no, Remus, I insist, you look perfectly fine, perfectly fine indeed… Dorcas, over here… and of course, the happy couple and their unruly child at the front,” Dumbledore chuckled
Sirius grinned and hooked his arms around James and Lily’s necks, hanging in between them. “Guess that makes you two my new Mum and Dad. Mind you, Lily, you’re a sight better than my actual mother – not that that’s especially difficult to be, really-”
“Everybody ready?” cried Dumbledore. “One – two – three-”
----
“Come here, I’ve got something that might interest you,” he said.
From an inner pocket of his robes Moody pulled a very tattered old Wizarding photograph.
“Original Order of the Phoenix,” growled Moody. “Found it last night when I was looking for my spare Invisibility Cloak, seeing as Podmore hasn’t had the manners to return my best one. . . . Thought people might like to see it.”
[…]
And then, to see them surrounded by all those other happy faces . . . Benjy Fenwick, who had been found in bits, and Gideon Prewett, who had died like a hero, and the Longbottoms, who had been tortured into madness . . . all waving happily out of the photograph forevermore, not knowing that they were doomed. . . .
-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix