Kingsley Shacklebolt twisted the ring around his middle finger as he listened to Dumbledore speak throughout the meeting. The smell of hexes still clung to the robes of those in the room who'd been at the Department of Mysteries, tension still singing through their muscles. Everyone's wand was still out and ready.

He wanted to pace; twisting the ring would do for now.

This safehouse was used during the first war, designed for the first Order of the Phoenix, and wasn't as heavily warded as Grimmauld. The location unsettled several of the current members who were part of that first Order but no one wanted to go back to Number 12 just yet in case the Death Eaters managed to secure any information from Sirius. Kingsley hated Dumbledore's decision to keep the man locked up for so long but saw some of the logic in it. But now…now there was a core Order member imprisoned, or likely worse, all because of misleading information and a spectacle of a battle at the Ministry.

Focusing on the fact that Fudge would soon be ousted as a terrible Minister did nothing to soothe Kingsley's concern. Fudge had been useful: enough of an idiot to keep the attention of the press while they worked, even if he did try to defy them at every turn, and blustering here and there to keep attention directed at himself at all times. Very convenient. Whenever he checked his morning Prophet, Kingsley would laugh into his coffee as the image of the bowler hat and the angle of the photographer's shot concealed the Minister's double chin, but did nothing to hide how much he looked and acted like an indignant crup, barking at the heels of its masters for not getting enough treats.

Dumbledore paused his monologue to ask Kingsley's advice. He knew the room wasn't ready to hear it, but he spoke anyway.

"We must work as though Sirius has been compromised or killed," he said, refusing to look around the table at the myriad of family and concerned friends of the man who'd escaped Azkaban. Instead, he focused on the only other man in the room besides him who he knew would understand what he meant. Remus Lupin.

"Bellatrix is unstable, but somewhat predictable. Her main focus has always been blood traitors, in her own words, from her family line before working to eradicate any other opponents. It's a blessing to us she grabbed Sirius instead of taking Harry. There is a chance she's removed him to a place where she will take isolated action before bringing him as a prize to You-Know-Who."

Harry was safely moved back to Hogwarts for a full debriefing and detainment by Minerva McGonagall. Sirius was right about one thing, at least. It was time the boy knew everything. Kingsley hoped Snape would get a chance to speak to the boy tonight as well.

Everyone flinched throughout his speech, but the solid steel in the arms of the man across from him shifted and moved below the surface. The wolf was ready.

"Either way, we're retrieving him," Remus said, speaking for the first time since Sirius was dragged away by Bellatrix.

Kingsley nodded in agreement, elated he was picking up on what he needed of him. "I volunteer. I suspect I'll need one more with me and we can secure him."

"But no more than two," said Dumbledore.

Kingsley pretended their fearless leader looked regretful for the events of the night and what lead to it. There were lines in his face that hadn't been there during the last Order meeting, long crow's feet webbing over the other small lines creasing his face. Dumbledore's age was becoming less and less ambiguous each time he saw him. Kingsley wondered if it were an act or if the old man regretted anything that happened during the war, but in the end it didn't matter. The emotional ruse was effective enough to control the room.

"Me," Remus said, standing with his coat half on already.

Kingsley stood as well. "We'll confer and report back as planned. Don't send a Patronus in case we're not alone, use one of those galleons we confiscated from Potter's defense group."

"We have ours here," said Fred Weasley.

George tossed something towards Tonks that glittered in the light before disappearing into a jacket pocket. "The others are hidden at Grimmauld Place, this saves time."

Fred threw his into Kingsley's waiting hand. The gold in his pocket shone like a real coin, burnished and protected. Without a word of farewell, the men left the safe house, Apparating away one after the other from the front stoop of the cottage in Godric's Hollow.

April 12th, 2017 - An anon on tumblr challenged me to make some angst with Remus and Kingsley so here's another WIP to press against my conscience. This story is still very much on the drawing board, so any questions or commetnts you have will help shape it, make it, help to move it along. Thank you for reading.