Wow, it's been a long time since I've published anything on here! If you have me on author alert and you've been wondering where I disappeared to (not very likely I know!), it's all on my profile; I won't bore you with the details here. This is something I found half-written on my computer before I stopped writing. I hope there's not too much of a difference between the old and new parts; I'm feeling a bit rusty because it's been so long since I've written anything. Anyway, I hope it's ok and that you enjoy!
It was a strangely cold night for summer, and not even the strongest warming charm Sirius could cast could keep him warm. He exhaled, his breath and the smoke from his cigarette both making wispy patterns in the air as if it was winter, strong against the black sky. There was no light at all except for the little orange glow at the end of his cigarette. He didn't mind sitting in the dark though; it was kind of nice just to stare out at what felt like nothing. Plus, on a more practical note, it meant that Remus and Tonks couldn't catch him smoking. They'd been nagging him for years now, but he just couldn't give up. He thought it wasn't the best idea to remind Remus that it was him who'd started his whole habit in the first place at a party in Hogsmeade while they were both wasted. His friend probably wouldn't want Tonks to know that; she was a bit of a health freak, being an Auror and everything, and Sirius wasn't about to drop Remus in it. He wouldn't want to put anyone in the doghouse with their missus.
He was pretty sure he had a good excuse tonight though if they did catch him: it'd been another day of the Order trying to sort everything out in the aftermath of the final battle. It'd been exactly a week now, but there were still bodies to identify (he'd never thought knowing so many witches intimately would be a bad thing, but after today...), funerals to arrange, families to comfort, especially the Weasleys, having lost two sons. It'd been draining, to put it mildly, and once he'd got home he'd headed straight out to the back garden with his cigarettes and half a bottle of firewhiskey. He needed to just sit and think on his own. This was perfect: no one could see him, he couldn't see anyone and he just felt like he was in his own little bubble, away from everything and everyone.
"Can I have one of those?" a small voice behind him asked, making him jump.
He turned round to see the silhouette of Hermione Granger wrapped in a blanket. Even though he couldn't see her face, he could tell that she was tiny, ill and exhausted. She was shaking, but Sirius couldn't tell whether that was because she was shivering from the cold or because was crying. By the look of her wand, she was trying to cast a lumos charm, but the light it gave off was so weak, she might as well not have bothered. It was understandable though. The poor girl was had been through a lot. She finally found out that the boy who she'd cried over and loved for years returned her feelings, and then just hours later she found him sprawled out on the floor of the Great Hall, dead.
He shook his head, although he knew she wouldn't be able to see him do it.
"These things'll kill you, love."
She began to shake even more, and Sirius knew that this time she was definitely crying. He reached for her hand and guided her until she was sitting on the tree stump next to him. As soon as she was sitting, she threw herself onto him and started sobbing even more. He could feel her tears, hot on his skin through his pyjamas and he felt at a loss as to what he should do. It was so unlike her to act like this, although he couldn't blame her for it, obviously. He'd be the same if he was in her situation. He held her like a child, rocking her back and forth, stroking her hair and whispering calming nonsensical sounds to her. After a while, her howls became quiet sobs and she sat up, rubbing her eyes.
"You ok?" Sirius asked her, before kicking himself. What a stupid question!
She seemed to think so too, as she didn't dignify it with an answer, instead just holding out her hand for a cigarette.
"I told you, sweetheart-"
"I don't care. It's not like I have anything to live for now. One isn't going to kill me anyway, more's the pity."
Sirius opened his mouth to say something reassuring, but he realised she was right. She didn't have anyone: her parents were in Australia, and she was in no fit state to go and undo their memory charms, Harry and Ginny were together; they were looking after each other, Tonks and Lupin had been at Andromeda's all day to check she was ok after what had happened to her husband. Hermione didn't have anyone to look after her. In fact, she'd been on her own in the house all day. Sirius cursed under his breath. Leaving someone in her situation on her own with no one to check up on her! Sometimes the Order were stupid!
"It might not seem like it now, but you have a lot to live for," he told her, although he handed her a cigarette and lit it for her anyway. "It's hard to see it straight away, but you will in time, I promise."
Hermione coughed and looked revolted by the taste of the cigarette. Sirius knew that she just wanted to do something to hurt herself, to know she was inflicting some damage somehow. He knew, probably better than anyone after the first war, that physical pain was a good way to forget about emotional pain for a while, even if it was just a burning throat.
"Don't try to be nice, Sirius. We both know I've got nothing. All I had was Harry, Ron and Ginny, and Harry and Ginny don't need me anymore and Ron...Ron..." she stammered, her voice breaking and fresh tears falling at the mention of his name.
"I know," he said, taking her back into the same position as before. "I know. Are you cold?" he asked her, feeling her shiver. "Merlin, Hermione," he said, taking her hand. "You're freezing!"
He felt her nod against his chest.
"It's strange, isn't it? It's almost like the weather knows what's going on and it feels it can't be a nice day because it'd be inappropriate considering what's been happening," she said, her voice breaking several times as tears kept threatening to come.
"Let's get you inside. I've got some dreamless sleep potion if you want it."
"Ok," she whispered. "That would be good."
He took her hand to help her up, and making sure she was wrapped up in her blanket, guided her back into the house. Gods, in the light she looked awful! It was to be expected obviously, but he hadn't been prepared to see her like that. All the pain she was feeling was visible on her face, and Sirius found that his heart was aching for her because of it. Her eyes were small and red with big black shadows underneath them, her cheekbones seemed to stick out and her cheeks themselves seemed hollow, her skin was dull and pale, almost grey. Sirius doubted that she'd managed to eat or sleep all week. He sat her down at the kitchen table and started rummaging through the cupboards for the potion.
"Would you like something to eat?" he asked her.
"No thank you," she replied softly. "It's very unusual that you keep dreamless sleep potion in your kitchen cupboards; doesn't it go off after two weeks?"
"Normally, yes, but this one was made by an old girlfriend of mine who was a bit of a whizz at potions. I have no idea how she did it, but this has been working for me for years," he said, putting the bottle down in front of her.
"Are you sure I can have this?" she asked. "You haven't got very much left. Can this ex-girlfriend make more for you?"
"Yes, go ahead. You need it. I'm sure I can get some more from somewhere. Maria was actually killed in the battle too. I identified her body today," he said, feeling sick from the memory that had forced itself to the surface: Maria's beautiful pale skin burned all over, one of her eyes missing, body covered in deep slash marks.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said, and Sirius knew that she really meant it, not like the coroners who'd said it when he'd seen them today. They didn't care; it was just one dead body after another to them, and they probably just thought she was another one of Sirius' conquests who he didn't care about either. To hear someone say it with such sincerity made tears well up in his eyes, and he turned away. Hermione didn't need to see him like that. He was meant to be looking after her.
Hermione pushed bottle with the last few drops of potion across the table to him.
"I don't know how much it'll help, but I think you need some too," she said.
"Ok," he said, taking it all in one small sip. Let's go to bed now, shall we?"
He followed her upstairs, dreading going to bed. He'd suggested it because he knew she needed to sleep, but he wanted to stay awake. He couldn't face going through the day in his head like he always did before bed. Going out for a smoke had cleared his head for a while, but now it was all back. He didn't want to think about Maria or any of the others he'd had to identify, but now they were all there in his mind, with Maria and her mutilated body right at the front. He could only hope that those few sips of potion were enough to make him forget about them for the night.
Hermione's room was first on the landing and she disappeared very quickly after saying goodnight. Sirius guessed she was going to cry again, and he was glad that he'd been able to find the potion. The poor girl looked like a lost, broken little child and yet at the same time like a woman who was much older and had seen much more than someone who was barely an adult should have. It was almost frightening to see, and Sirius was sure it was even more scary to be actually feeling like that. He'd just reached his own bedroom when he heard Hermione's door open again.
"Sirius?" she asked in the same tiny voice as earlier. It still surprised him; he wasn't used to her not using her 'bossing everyone around' voice. "I don't suppose you could stay with me until I fall asleep?"
What Sirius really wanted to do was get into his own bed and cry, but someone had to look after Hermione. She shouldn't be alone like she had been all day, so he nodded and followed her back into her room. It was almost empty, except for her suitcase in the corner which was open but not unpacked. Her wand and a glass of water were on the bedside table but that was all.
"I can find memories in almost everything," she said softly, noticing what he was looking at. "The memories I have in my head are bad enough, without my things reminding me of more."
"They'll be good memories one day, love, when they're less painful," Sirius told her. "Trust me."
She nodded. She didn't look like she believed him, but she didn't argue like she would've done before when she disagreed with anyone. Instead, she just lay down on her bed, and when Sirius was next to her, turned off the lights with a flick of her wand, although it took her two tries. They lay there next to each other in silence. Sirius could feel Hermione squirming and turning next to him and found her hand.
"Shh," he whispered. "Just lie still. I always like the darkness. It feels like there's nothing else out there and there's nothing to worry about: no James and Lily, no Maria, no loneliness,"
He trailed off, angry with himself for reminding himself of the things he was trying to forget. Hermione had calmed down though, although she still gripped his hand tightly.
"But don't you find it makes you feel more alone?" she asked. "That's how I feel."
"I find it better to feel like I'm on my own than be reminded of the people I've had and lost," he explained. "If I don't think about them, it feels like they were never there, and there were no times that I let them down, no times when I thought badly of them, and they never left me."
"That's awful," Hermione said quietly after a while. "I never want to feel like I've never had Ron. I don't want to feel like I'm all alone."
She gripped his hand even tighter as if to prove her point. Sirius understood what she meant, and perhaps it she was right: it was probably healthier to remember people than just shut himself away. He just couldn't deal with it though. He was fine with talking about James and Lily and everyone in the daytime, but it was at night when all the regrets and bad memories came out, and he just wanted to forget.
"You're not alone. I'm here with you," he reminded her gently. "We'll get through this together."
Silence fell again. Sirius could hear Hermione's breathing, heavy and uneven, and he guessed she was trying not to cry again.
"Do you want to talk about Maria?" she asked after a while, once she'd got herself under control.
He did, but he didn't think he could. Maria had been one of the few women who had actually meant something to him. He felt a pang of self-loathing for thinking that, but it was true. It had actually been her who'd broken up with him, and he'd been broken for months afterwards. He'd thought they were really going somewhere, and he'd really cared about her. She was definitely going to be another one he tried to forget about at night. He didn't want to think about all the times he'd shouted at her, the time he'd accused her of cheating on him, the time she walked out.
"I can't," he said simply. "Do you want to talk about anything?"
"I can't either," she said. "I can't even work out how I feel. Sometimes I feel sad, and I cry, but then there are times when I just don't think I feel anything, and I feel so guilty for not being more upset. And then I feel really selfish for being worried about how I feel at a time like this."
"That's why you smoked just now," Sirius said, although he was talking more to himself. "You wanted to feel like you were hurting yourself so you could feel something."
"Yes, I suppose I did," Hermione said. "And I didn't want to be on my own."
With that, she rolled over and found Sirius' lips with her own. Sirius moved back away from her, horrified.
"Hermione, you don't want to do that. You're upset. You're not thinking clearly."
"Sorry," she said. "It's like I said, I just wanted something to take the numb feeling away. And it worked."
Sirius felt her move towards him again, and he jumped off the bed before their lips could make contact again. Truth be told, it had made him feel something too, but he knew that he was just upset, and as much as sex could help him feel better and alive, he couldn't do that with Hermione. The poor girl had lost her boyfriend and she was confused. He wasn't going to take advantage of her like that.
"Sirius, please," she said. "I can't face another night of feeling nothing and being alone. I'm not so upset that I don't know what I'm doing and I'm not expecting anything."
"Hermione, I can't do this to you. It's not what you wanted; it won't be like you thought it would be with Ron. I don't want to hurt you, in any way," he said.
"I don't care about you hurting me. It's a feeling, isn't it?"
Sirius knew he had to get out. He wanted to feel something too and he wanted to get everything about his awful day out, but he knew the logical side of him was right: Hermione had been dreaming about this with Ron, not with him and she only wanted this so she could hurt herself like she'd done earlier. He couldn't do that. She'd only regret it in the morning.
There was a small part of him, though, that was feeling something for Hermione. Under any other circumstances, he would've jumped on it, and her, but not this time. He was upset about Maria. She was mourning for Ron. It might not actually be what either of them wanted. So many of the responsible adults had died or were lying in hospital beds waiting for the inevitable; it was time for him to grow up and take their place. He'd never been one for words, and a heartfelt speech was ordinarily definitely beyond him, but maybe this time...
"Hermione, listen. Over these past few days, I've had to do a lot of thinking. I've been irresponsible in the past. Everything was just a game, and most of the time, unless something hurt my feelings, it didn't usually bother me. Now, though, I want to be different. I need to be different. I want to be able to look after you lot and care for you, like I'm meant to have done for the last few years. I mean, I've always cared for you, but how have I shown it? Pushing you lot into danger and acting like an overgrown teenager myself. That was stupid."
He paused, not sure how to get across what he wanted to say next.
"I'm always going to be here for you, Hermione. Once some time has passed and you can think more clearly, perhaps you'll want what you do now. If you do, I'll be here for you as a lover. If you realise that you don't want that, I'll be your friend. Until then, I'm going to look after you, listen to you, and just generally be here. I know I haven't done a very good job of showing it, but I really do care, and I'm going to do better from now on, ok?
Hermione let out a muffled, half-asleep murmur that Sirius took to mean yes, and within seconds she was sound asleep. Sirius looked at her. In whatever way she needed him, he'd be there.