[He does. Like someone running their hand wrongways through his hair or (occasional experience says) fur. It's not a question, so Sirius doesn't answer it as if it was. Instead--]

Everyone's got to feel it. We came down here waiting for the rest to join us, and now we're waiting for-- further instructions. Whatever comes next.

[Or perhaps whoever comes next. Sirius looks up toward the sky, eyes picking at the darkness.]

There's people still asleep as well. People that we know. That's part of the feeling, too, like-- [He raises his hand, touches it to the back of his head. Unwashed hair hangs limp and thick, prickles against his palm.] They've said no one up there gets hurt while we're down here. Defence to spare without us to worry about. It's hard to believe if I can't see it.