Chapter One

1994

When he had first seen Hermione Granger bent over the wounded figure of the youngest Weasley boy, with her brilliant mind and her brilliant hair and even more brilliant smile, he had an peculiar feeling that they has already been acquainted. Of course, there was no likelihood of that; He had spent half of his life rotting in a cell in Azkaban and she was far too young for them to have met before that. He soon decided after that first introduction that she was unequivocally fantastic. She reminded him of Remus when they were students, but with more spirit. He felt very grateful to have met her as he mounted Buckbeak and made his farewells. He did not see her again after that for a year. Being an escaped convict in hiding made maintaining a social like slightly tricky. Although, he had Buckbeak for company and had acquired an owl, and that was better than the company he'd had for the past twelve years. After their first encounter, Sirius did not see or speak to Hermione. Harry would mention her in his letters sometimes, but to him, she was just his Godson's best friend. He never forgot how much he owed her though.

Grimmauld Place, 1995

The trio had broken up from school for the Christmas holiday and spent the days leading up to it at Grimmauld Place with the rest of the Order. While Harry and Ron had spent most of their time exploring London and Diagon Alley, Hermione stayed in the house and chose to explore the various rooms. Sirius watched her from afar, unbeknownst to the young witch as she discovered the nooks and crannies of the first and second floor. He found her fascination with the Black family library quite amusing and couldn't imagine a more delighted expression on her face than the one she wore when she first saw it. He watched her skim the various books with her eyes and caress the spines with her fingertips. She was so gentle with them, stroking the pages of a few books she picked out.

"I wondered when you'd find this place," Sirius finally spoke, stepping out of the shadows and crossing his arms with a teasing smile.

She looked surprised to see him; apparently he was still as light footed as he had been in his younger days. She gave him a beaming smile and gestured towards one of the many shelves, "It's incredible. I feel like I'm in heaven,"

They laughed together and he took a step closer to where she was stood.

"Well, you're welcome to borrow any book you fancy. Merlin knows they need some attention after so long."

"Oh, could I really, Sirius?" she said eagerly, crushing the book she held to her chest. He nodded with a small smile and slowly circled the room, appraising it with calm eyes. As much as he hated returning there, he could tell the kids loved being at the house. Harry especially. Grimmauld Place meant to Harry what the Potter's home had meant to him when he was that age.

"There's a lot of muggle fiction," Hermione commented, tearing Sirius from his short moment in the past. He glanced at her, gazing down at the book in her hands, her unruly hair shielding most of her face from him.

"Yes," he said with hilarity, "I had noticed that too. For saying my mother hated them so much, she owned quite an extensive collection of their literature."

She chuckled and took a seat on the green Chesterfield in the centre of the room, enquiring if he would join her. He did, and sat beside her with one leg crossed comfortably over the other, his left arm stretched over the back of the sofa, and his right hand fiddling with the stubble on his chin. He appeared the embodiment of a pureblood heir, Hermione thought.

"Have you read many of them?" She asked softly, feeling slightly self-conscious sitting so close to him.

He nodded, fixing her with his intense gaze, "I've read over half, and would have read more had I not been evicted when I was sixteen." His eyes never left hers, but she found herself unable to match his gaze for long.

"Well," she said, looking back to him with a confident grin, "now you have a chance to finish them."

A book was suddenly placed in Sirius' lap and she proceeded to ask him if he had read it. He removed his arm from the back of the sofa and flipped open the front cover with his thumb. It read: "Little Dorrit, by Charles Dickens".

"I can't say I've read many of the classic muggle romances," he smirked.

"Well, you can start with this one then," she said firmly, but with a pleasant smile decorating her lips.

Diagon Alley, 1995

After their pleasant encounter in the library, Sirius found himself spending more and more time with Hermione. He enjoyed her company greatly, and although he wasn't even nearly clever as she was, they could maintain intelligent conversation and genuinely enjoy it. Christmas was quickly creeping upon them and it had only just occurred to Sirius that he hadn't even put any thought towards buying gifts. It had been so long since he had enjoyed a Christmas with friends that he found himself quite excited. He vowed to make it the best Christmas Harry would ever have. After all, Sirius was finally back in the picture and if there was one thing he knew, it was how to have fun.

He found his favourite young witch stood over the sink in the kitchen, scrubbing what appeared to be dried porridge from a bowl. He couldn't understand why she ever chose to clean the muggle way but knew better than to question her.

"Good morning, Sirius." She greeted cheerfully without even turning around.

He shook his head and chuckled, leaning against the work surface. "How did you know it was me?"

"You're not as quiet as you think you are," she laughed and turned to look at him with the bowl still in her hands. Sirius took it from her with a roll of his eyes and cleaned it with a simple scourgify.

"Are the boys not up yet?" he asked, meaning Harry, Ron, Fred and George.

She shook her head, "No, they aren't used to late night wizard card games with fire whiskey involved. And Fred is still nursing a bruise from the game before."

He chuckled and threw his hands in the air dramatically, "What can I say? Wizard poker makes me competitive."

"Dangerous more like," she muttered under her breath with raised eyebrows.

"What was that?" Sirius asked, leaning towards her, pretending he didn't know exactly what she had just said. But she feigned innocence with a mischievous glint in her eyes, trying not to smile at the melodramatic marauder.

"Honestly, Hermione," he sighed theatrically, "all this talking back is really starting to test my patience. You need to learn to respect your elders."

His teasing tone reassured her that he was just joking.

They stood in content silence for a moment before Sirius asked if she would like to join him in Diagon Alley.

"What takes you there?" she inquired, taking a seat at the table.

"Tis the season to be jolly, 'Mione," he replied playfully.

She nodded in understanding, "Christmas presents," she stated, "left that a bit late, don't you think?"

"Late?! I would call three days before sufficient time!" he exclaimed, feigning shock.

She chuckled and agreed to go with him. He liked that he could make her laugh; she didn't seem to laugh so much in front of the others, he'd noticed.

"Do you know what you're getting Harry then?" she inquired once they arrived in Diagon Alley.

"I thought I'd just…make it up as I go along," he admitted, waving his hands around, "but we can't stay for long. This disillusion charm will only last for just over an hour and I can't afford to be recognised."

"It didn't even occur to me you were still a wanted man," she confessed, with a sombre tone. Sirius was aware that Hermione greatly pitied him for his time spent in such an awful place. He didn't want anyone's pity though, especially not from the people he cared about.

"Where shall we go first?" Hermione asked as they strolled through the bustling streets.

"It's been a few years since I've been here, do I think you should lead the way."

Half an hour later and they were no closer to finding a present than they had been when they arrived.

"I hate Christmas shopping." He grumbled, becoming more and more irritated as the throng of people multiplied.

"I see the novelty has worn off," Hermione joked, "I think your best bet is something quidditch related."

Sirius nodded, and then it occurred to him that he hadn't seen her buy anything so far.

"Oh, I bought mine about a month ago. I always plan ahead," she explained simply.

He couldn't hold back his scowl; he had never been that sort of person, the planning ahead time. Spontaneity was his area of expertise and he usually hated organised people. Hermione was an exception.

They returned to Grimmauld Place twenty minutes later, having had a triumphant trip in the end. Sirius had successfully bought Harry a present he would most certainly like, and had somehow managed to buy something for Hermione without her even noticing. He definitely had a good feeling about Christmas that year.

The Death Chamber, 1996

The battle raged around everyone as all Order members fought tooth and claw against their opponents. The air was charged with electricity as bodies flew from the receiving ends of wands and neither side appeared to be winning nor losing. Each Order member had their own Death Eater to deal with, but every so often Sirius' eyes would flit over to where Hermione was matching Macnair with some equally nasty curses. He couldn't help but have a fleeting feeling of pride as he hastily watched her beating the Death Eater down with some impressive spells. At one moment the room was crackling with energy but now it felt like a black, ominous cloud hung over them all.

Hermione, noticing that Ginny was becoming slightly overwhelmed by Dolohov, distracted herself from Macnair for a moment to send a full body-binding curse in that direction but as she did, Macnair took advantage of her momentary interference and kicked her in the stomach, knocking her over and sending her wand flying from her hand.

The battle was now beginning to sway to one side and most Order members were struggling to hold off their rivals, whereas Sirius appeared to be rather enjoying duelling with his cousin, provoking her with insults and poking her with childish jibes.

When Dumbledore finally arrived, Neville had just finished Macnair off, who had been gleefully rounding on Hermione, wandless and sprawled on the stone floor with blood pouring from the back of her head. The scene had briefly distracted Sirius from Bellatrix who remained hot on his heels whilst the other Death Eaters fled from the scene from fear of Dumbledore.

All that was happening around them went unnoticed by the two cousins battling in the centre of the room and once everything else was calm, all everyone could do was watch the scene unfurl between Bellatrix and Sirius. Nobody dared move, and nobody dared interfere.

There was nothing Sirius loved more than humiliating his relatives, and Bellatrix had always been so easy to irritate. "I do believe your time in Azkaban has given you the reflexes of a Flobberworm," he shouted, earning a few chuckles from those watching. Even Hermione could feel her lips twitch at that comment, although she was soon reminded of how deadly the witch, he was so quick to insult, actually was as her reply was a scorching spell that narrowly missed him.

It rather seemed to Remus that his fellow marauder was mainly performing for the crowd, rather than trying to defend himself as his next move was to send a tooth scrubbing spell at her.

"Oh, don't give me that look; I've done you a favour! I could smell your breath from here, Belly!" Sirius chuckled, using his extra time to send her flying upside down in the air and spinning like an angry Billywig.

It was clear to every person in the room that his time spent in Azkaban had not slowed his reflexes, nor dulled his magical ability in any way and the same could be said for his opponent. Bellatrix battled as fiercely as if her life depended on it, but in the end it was Sirius' life that truly depended on it.

"Come on, cousin," Sirius barked, his infectious laughter filling the air and even putting a small smile on the faces of the people watching, "You can do better than that!"

And he was not wrong, because the moment the words left his mouth, Bellatrix sent a bone breaking curse in his direction. The deafening crack of his spine straightened his back, standing him to his full height, freezing his features as he looked upon the manic witch before him. He knew he was done for then; He'd pushed his cousin too far this time. And so with that, she sent it. The curse no one ever needed to name. It bounded through him, burning and tearing through life and limb. His mind wanted to go numb, but his body wouldn't let it - so it made him think of her, the brunette girl he knew was standing behind him, watching his life end as she was just starting hers.

The unnatural silence carried his body backwards into the Veil but all that she could hear was a deafening ring in her ears as she crumbled to the floor beside her allies, and tears seeped from her eyes and the sound of Harry's anguished screams resonated off the walls. She watched as Harry prepared himself to jump in after Sirius, but Remus seized him and held him firmly to his chest. No one was aware that Hermione too, with pressure slowly building in her throat and her nose stinging, wanted nothing more than to follow him to where ever the Veil had taken him.

When Harry escaped from Remus' hold to pursue Bellatrix, Hermione could no longer hold in the wail of emotional agony that had been brewing inside of her. She tore off the chain around her neck, too numb to notice the burn it left on her skin, and held the small golden book charm that Sirius had given her at Christmas, clasping it to her chest as sobs wracked through her body. Though she was knelt in a room encircled by her friends, she suddenly felt incredibly alone.

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