Sirius' wrath
Sirius had spent a bad day in constant anticipation of the Order of the Phoenix meeting that was to take place that very evening. The extreme impatience in his body made him almost dizzy, bordering on unbearable. He was desperate to know how Severus' week had gone, but more than that, he hoped to find a moment to talk to him about what was going on between them. He imagined it would not be easy, given that Severus had literally run away the few times the situation had become too intense. However, Sirius, more determined than ever, had spent the day formulating different ways of approaching the discussion.
The meeting was due to start at 9pm, which meant it had been a particularly long day for Sirius. Fortunately, some members had arrived early to eat together, such as the Weasleys, Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody, and with Remus already there, it made for a nice little group. The kitchen was filled with a delicious aroma and everyone sat down around the table to share a meal. The conversation was lively, everyone was glad to see Remus in good health, and it wasn't long before the changed story of his recovery made its way around the table. Sirius regretted not being able to tell the whole truth, he would have loved to tell the whole Order what Severus had done, perhaps that would have put some people's doubts to rest. Thanks to the chatter around him, Sirius had plenty of time to let his thoughts wander and didn't have to talk to anyone.
After the meal, they cleared the table and cleared the large kitchen to make room. About ten minutes before the meeting was due to start, the other members began to arrive and Sirius felt the tension in his stomach tighten painfully. He kept his eyes peeled as soon as the door opened, anxious to see who had just entered the house. The kitchen quickly closed up and by 9pm two people were missing: Dumbledore and Severus. They were all seated, but the meeting would not begin without their leader. McGonagall had already arrived, however, and Sirius hesitated to ask her what was going on. He could feel the stress of waiting creeping into his chest like a snake around his organs. All around him the buzz of conversation acted as a stimulant. It was ten minutes past the hour when the door opened. Muffled footsteps could be heard in the hallway, the two arrivals taking care not to wake Mrs Black, a feat that had been accomplished for the time being.
The kitchen door opened and Dumbledore's great silver beard entered the room, followed by the dark shadow of Severus. The Headmaster of Hogwarts was greeted very warmly, and Sirius noticed that Severus was greeted cordially at most, but not warmly, and most of the members ignored him. The chair by the door, where he usually sat, had been left free for him, and Sirius regretted that he was not closer to it. Severus went to sit in it and Sirius saw a look of disgust cross his face as his eyes fell on his neighbours: Mundungus and Tonks. Sirius couldn't help but notice the huge dark circles under his eyes. With his two scars still reddening and the shadow of his hooked nose, he looked almost sick. Immediately, the Gryffindor felt a strong urge to attend to him. Severus obviously needed a rest, and Sirius imagined himself washing his hair in a hot bath - although his black hair looked as soft as silk at the moment - as it had when he had been ill that summer. He wondered if he would ever see Severus in his bath again and the thought sent a charge of magic through his body. Perhaps the Slytherin had sensed Sirius's gaze on him, but he looked up sharply and met his eyes. Sirius gave him a warm, open smile and Severus looked away immediately. The Gryffindor was sure, however, that he saw the man's cheekbones take on a slight pink hue.
Dumbledore took his place in the centre and said a few words of welcome before apologising for their lateness.
This statement immediately caught the attention of everyone around the table. Even Sirius could feel his attention being drawn to the subject under discussion. Dumbledore was telling them about a prophecy in the Department of Mysteries that had to be protected at all costs. But Sirius had the impression that the buzz of conversation had resumed in his head. So James and Lily had died because of a prophecy? What did it mean? It was as if everything in his head had suddenly gone cold and white. He couldn't help himself.
“Dumbledore," he began, his voice almost trembling as he tried to control it. “Are you trying to tell us, as calmly as possible, that the Potters were killed because Voldemort heard a prophecy about them? What was the prophecy? Who made it?”
“Sirius," the headmaster replied in a reassuring tone. “Let me finish my explanation before you interrupt me, we must do everything we can to...”
“No, no, no," Sirius continued, cutting Dumbledore off. “How long have you known about the Prophecy? Is that why you sent James and Lily into hiding?”
Sirius's voice had begun to shake. He felt a rage boiling inside him that he had rarely felt before. His head was spinning and he felt like he was about to run out of air.
“Why didn't you tell us?" he exploded. How did Voldemort know about this prophecy? I demand an explanation!”
A murmur of disapproval ran through the gathering, but Sirius didn't care.
“Someone heard it and repeated it to him," Dumbledore replied calmly. “But they only heard part of it. I think Voldemort is trying to get hold of the prophecy and hear it in full, hoping to find a way to kill Harry once and for all.”
The members of the Order looked stunned. Molly covered her mouth with one hand and let out a small scream, and Tonks spilled her drink on the table. Sirius had had enough. He jumped out of his chair.
“All right," Sirius said, trying not to let the anger and fear get the better of him. “You say someone tipped Voldemort off to part of this prophecy, who? How do you know this?”
“Sirius, I was informed at the time and I did everything in my power to protect Lily and James, I hope you remember that. I failed them. But I won't tell the story tonight if it doesn't help us find ways to protect the Prophecy.”
“I have a right to know," Sirius said in a low voice, "I have a right to know exactly why my best friend was killed. How much more information do you have, Dumbledore? Who was the... the nobody who told Voldemort what he'd heard?”
“Don't worry, Sirius," the headmaster said, "that person will not harm us again. I understand you want to know the details of this story, but I regret I cannot tell you more. Now we must consider how to protect Harry and the Prophecy from Voldemort.”
“Who made the prophecy?" continued Sirius, ignoring Dumbledore's answer. “Was it Pettigrew who heard it?”
“No, it wasn't," Dumbledore replied. “Sirius, if you would like to sit down and...”
“What do you mean, the person who heard the prophecy can no longer harm us? Are they dead? I hope so, then I won't have to kill them myself!" roared Sirius as he felt the pain of a past betrayal pierce his heart and skin.
He felt Remus's hand close around his own. His whole body shook.
“Sirius!" exclaimed Dumbledore as all eyes turned to him. “Please calm down and sit down!”
But Sirius didn't move. He could feel his magic swelling inside him and his wand, tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, flashed red.
“Sirius," Remus' voice was much softer. “We'll discuss this later. Let the meeting continue.”
Fighting back tears, Sirius tried to clear his mind. Then he suddenly felt the warmth of Remus' gentle hand on his own and shook it in return. His friend gave him a gentle tug and he sat up, feeling like his head was going to explode. He gave Remus a tearful look and saw that Remus was also deeply affected by Dumbledore's revelations, even if he didn't show it in the same way as he did. Remus put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. Sirius let go, sadness and anger mixing inside him.
“Thank you," Dumbledore said.
The meeting continued, but Sirius did not listen to the suggestions for protecting the Prophecy. His brain was still trying to digest what he had just learned. After a moment, Remus withdrew his arm and Sirius stifled a shiver. He let his eyes wander and then noticed that Severus was staring at him. Sirius looked back at him and thought he saw a glimmer of fear and deep sadness in the other man's 'doe eyes'. Or maybe it was pain. What did it all mean? Sirius looked away, his eyes fixed on the table in front of him. He couldn't wait to be alone and cry his heart out in bed. It wasn't something he was used to doing, but he felt he needed it and wasn't able to do anything else. Maybe he would let Remus come and comfort him. He had always been the one of their friends who knew best how to control his emotions.
Sirius also had a furious urge to act. He couldn't bear to be imprisoned, but to know that Harry was in such danger while he was forced to stay quietly in the house he hated so much now seemed unbearable. He was jolted from his thoughts by Severus' voice, coming from across the table for the first time.
“The Dark Lord had a new plan”, he said, “to get the remaining Death Eaters out of Azkaban.”
This information brought another blow to Sirius' head.
“What?" he said hoarsely.
Severus looked at him without answering.
“We need to make a list of the remaining Death Eaters," Dumbledore said. “Alastor, can you do that?”
Moody nodded.
“If my cousin escapes from Azkaban, we're finished," Sirius said. “She's been mad before, but I've heard her scream from time to time, and I can't imagine what her sanity would be like after all these years. She'd be capable of wreaking havoc...”
“Black," Moody said in a voice that sounded more like a growl than anything else. “You're the only one who's ever done it, do you have any idea how Voldemort could get his followers out?”
“Oh, it's very simple," Sirius replied, "there's only one way out of Azkaban, and that's to find a solution to escape the Dementors. And no one will be able to use the same method as me.”
“Yes, the Dementors," Dumbledore repeated, as if thinking at the same time. “Voldemort will try to convert them to his cause. If the Death Eaters ever escape from Azkaban, it will be a terrible signal, it will mean that these creatures have sided with him and there will be nothing we can do. We must keep an eye on the prison. Voldemort will try to send followers to recruit the Dementors. We've got to find out what's going on and try to stop them.”
Sirius stifled another shudder. This evening had been worse than he had ever imagined in terms of revelations. The meeting was intense and lasted until one in the morning. In the end, everyone had a job to do, whether it was defending the door leading to the Prophecy without being spotted by Fudge's people or being assigned to guard Azkaban prison. Only Sirius was left with nothing. As the members of the Order rose to leave, some of them patted Sirius on the back, a sure sign of their sympathy for the revelations he had endured that evening. Dumbledore walked up to him and squeezed his shoulder with his old, long-fingered hand, and Sirius didn't even have the courage to look up at him, just nodded.
“Black," Severus' deep voice said.
The man had come to him.
“We need to talk. Not tonight, but perhaps tomorrow.”
Sirius looked up at him. He was grateful to Severus for offering to talk at another time. He didn't have the strength for anything tonight. He'd forgotten everything he'd wanted to say to him, and his teenage crush seemed very insignificant at the moment.
“All right," he replied wearily. “Did you know about the Prophecy?”
Severus blinked for a split second.
“I learned of it a few days ago and informed Dumbledore of the Dark Lord's plans to retrieve it.”
Sirius nodded.
“If I knew who the bastard was who did this, I'd crush him to dust.”
“I can imagine," Severus murmured.
“Do you know anything about him?”
“Only what Dumbledore said.”
“Can you find out?”
“Black, I'm very sorry you had to hear about this prophecy so suddenly. I think we should concentrate our efforts on protecting it and Potter.”
“Dumbledore's man," muttered Sirius, who didn't have the courage to protest.
“I'm no more Dumbledore's man than you are," Severus retorted.
Sirius looked at him. He didn't know where he stood. He wanted and needed to be alone.
“You can sleep here," he told Severus. “I think I'll go upstairs to bed myself. I'm exhausted.”
“That's kind of you," Severus replied, stiffening.
“It's all right. Well, good night.”
“Good night.”
Sirius left the kitchen, feeling Severus's gaze on the nape of his neck, beneath the black curls that fell over his shoulders. Remus was waiting for him in the hallway and they climbed the stairs together, but when they reached his room, Sirius wished him good night in turn, closing the door behind him after his friend had caressed his cheek affectionately before heading off to his own room.