Sirius frowned a little, not sure exactly what Remus meant by they already know; was he talking about Greyback? The werewolves? The Order? Who knew what, exactly?
But then Remus began to read from his journal, and Sirius' stomach dropped somewhere down around his feet, and he wondered if the others would judge him if he was sick on the spot. He didn't know exactly who had written that - probably Edgar, as if it'd been Fabian or Gideon they probably woudld've been ranting about pitchforks and angry mobs and such - but it didn't really matter, did it? Fenwick and someone else in the Order knew that Remus was a werewolf. How the fuck did they find that out? And why the fuck had they been looking?
"Not a chance in fucking hell," he said, clearly rattled and upset. "We're not letting you go to them alone, that's fucking shite. Who wrote it? Edgar?" He shook his head swiftly, feeling that awful sensation of guilt flood through him; this was his fault. His fucking conversation (if you could call it that) with Greyback had lead first to Dora being threatened, and now this. After the incident with Snape, Sirius had promise - promised - never again to do anything that could reveal Remus' secret, and now, essentially, he had done just that.