A blinding flash of silver, followed by a full second of silence. The flash of silver intensified, stabbing into the heavens and exposing the full moon from behind the clouds. A cacophony of bass drums tumbled down a rocky ledge, so loud as to make the ground shake and the trees around them vibrate. The night sky was brighter than any high noon Hermione Granger had witnessed, either on her father's westerns, or in any of her real life experiences. What made her sharp mind dull like a knife on stone was the sight before her. Her best friend was admittedly a better magic user than herself, that she knew without question. She had told him as such in first year, before he was ever so brave against Voldemort. But this...this was beyond her reckoning. He stood with his wand arm out stretched, an even brighter, more blinding beam of silver lancing out of his wand, straight as an arrow. The Dementors were agitated, that she could gather from their frenzied movements to escape the light. Any noise they were making, however, was completely drowned out by a second blast of sound that rattled her teeth and sent her crashing to the ground, her very marrow seeming to vibrate. She felt her eyes close for an instant, or maybe it was an hour, she couldn't be certain. What she was certain of, was the her best friend needed her. So she gritted her teeth, and forced herself upright. Her best friend stood still, a beautiful stag galloping away from him towards the trapped Dementors. As she shambled closer to him, an odd noise seemed to emanate from his wand. The stag was returning, the clip-clop of the hoof beats audible against the forest floor.

"Prongs..." Harry Potter whispered, reaching a hand out to his protector. The stag bowed its noble head, and as Harry's hand made contact, he let out a shriek of pain. The stag vanished, the light in the sky becoming black as the darkest pitch. There was a final, echoing 'BOOM', and a muffled groan of pain and shock, and everything was dark, and as silent as Christmas night.

A vision of a disheveled forest greeted her, and she swallowed a groan of pain as the vision shut off. It returned but an instant later, out of focus and blurry, only to disappear a second time. Gritting her teeth again, her eyes opened once more, the Forbidden Forest around her in better focus and more detail. Her best friend was motionless before her, curled into a fetal position. A snort from behind her had her spinning, only to see Buckbeak, the Hippogriff they had rescued. She turned back to Harry, and noticed him clutching his wand arm. She gently pried his grip from his right forearm, and gasped when she moved her lit wand closer. His forearm was a bloody mess, shards of what had to be his wand poking out from beneath his skin. She stripped off her hooded sweatshirt, and sterilized it with a quick spell. Concentrating on her next spell was a little challenging, and Hermione failed to transfigure the sweatshirt twice before finally succeeding. The third time proved to be a charm, and she carefully wrapped the gauze around his arm, making sure to leave it loose. The stark white gauze quickly turned a rusty red from Harry's blood. She levitated him quickly, moving him over to Buckbeak. She bowed quickly, casting her eyes down. She straightened and backed up, smiling as Buckbeak returned her deep bow. The Hippogriff lowered his wing, and slid it under the young boy's body. Hermione clambered on to his back, and helped arrange Harry in front of her.

"Know where to go Buckbeak?" Hermione asked in a wavering voice. The creature gave a sharp nod, and with powerful flaps of his wings, they were off. An entirely too long ride later, she was blasting open the window (some wizard, or witch, had proved to be logical and warded against an unlocking charm). Sirius leaped up, and held her waist as the Hippogriff left the turret. Buckbeak hovered next to the hospital ward window, keeping his height steady by flapping his wings. Sirius was silent, seeing his godson unconscious and bleeding was enough to shock him mute. He helped get Harry through the window, and turned to face the young girl who had rescued him.

"Thank you, Hermione. You truly are the brightest witch of your age. I, Lord Sirius Orion Black, do owe thee a debt of mine gratitude. Henceforth, I owe you a Life Debt, until a time when it has been seen fulfilled. So mote it be."

"So mote it be." Hermione said softly. "I will consider it paid in full if you remove Harry from his relatives' house, and take him in by next summer." She had tears in her eyes as Lord Black bowed.

"It'll be as you wish, Lady Granger. Please tell my godson that I'll be in touch. Thank you again, for everything."

"It was nothing at all, Sirius. Anything for Harry's family. Stay safe, Sirius. "she said softly, and slid in the window, closing it behind her as softly as possible. Seeing her best friend laying on his bed, she took a deep breath, and set off a blast of sound with her wand in the air. She quickly slipped into bed, and as Madame Pomfrey sprinted out of her office, Hermione was at Harry's side, reapplying the guaze in order to keep up appearances.

"MADAME POMFREY! HELP!" She was there before Hermione could finish the job wrapping Harry's arm, but no matter. The nurse vanished the material, and gasped when she saw the wound.

" , fetch me the third potion from the left, fourth shelf. Quickly now!"

When the beaker of potion landed in her hand, the nurse's wand was already removing the gel-like potion, and laying it on skin that remained. Most of the wood pieces stuck to the gel, and landed in the beaker with just a flick of her wand. She tapped her wand on the beaker, and the gel shook all the wood fragments free, only to lay itself on his arm gain, repeating the procedure. While the nurse was doing that, she was also cleaning the blood off her patient's arm, and trying to mend his broken skin. Sadly, she was failing, and for all her efforts, was actually making the bleeding worse. She probed her gloved hands against the rough edges of the wound, and felt something jagged pushing itself under the skin. She pinched it, and tugged hard. In her hand was a scarlet and gold Phoenix feather. With a piercing trill, Fawkes appeared in a blast of fire above Harry. He landed on the bed next to the affected arm, and lowered his head to the wound, releasing a handful of pearly tears. Upon contact with the skin, the tears sizzled, and mended the skin before her very eyes. The majestic bird stared at the feather in the nurse's hand, not even blinking his eyes. With trembling fingers, Madame Pomfrey handed the feather to the Phoenix, and Fawkes let out a soothing trill. He gently plucked the item from her fingers, and jumped onto Harry's chest. He waddled until he could bend forwards far enough for his plumage to caress the boy's forehead. The bird straightened, and chewed over the feather until its point faced downwards, at a slight angle. Fawkes blurred, and Harry thrashed once before becoming very still. Both females were moving closer, having seen the black liquid pooling on Harry's forehead. The feather self-immolated, the flames swallowing up the inky substance quickly. There was an inhuman shriek of pain, but it was gone on the wind so fast, both nurse and student thought it a figment of their imaginations. That small, crucial detail would soon be forgotten, as there was more...important things in the hospital wing.

"I KNOW IT WAS POTTER! GRANGER, WHAT DID YOU TWO IMBECLIC CRETINS DO NOW?! YOU HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH BLACK GETTING AWAY!" Severus Snape roared, spittle being ejected from his mouth at an alarming rate. The Potions Master's pale skin had taken the appearance of a ghost, all blood having fled his face in his rage. His dark eyes were narrowed to dark corridors that seemed to lance into Hermione's very soul. Black shadows danced about his ankles, making noises akin to her father's beloved Union Jack in the front yard, snapping itself closed and then unfurling in heavy winds. Professor Snape was perfectly still, but the air around him was charged, his limp hair waving in time with his teacher's robes. The man next to him looked like the Minister of Magic she had glimpsed in the newspaper before, though none of the confidence from his pictures remained. He was cowering back from the irate teacher, his ridiculous bowler hat spinning on the ground behind him. Madame Pomfrey had stepped in front of her, her arms herding the child behind her. She drew herself up, to defend her patients' peace, but there was no need. The air nearly thrummed with power, and Albus Dumbledore swept into the room not a moment later. Hermione knew logically that she had no reason to fear the Headmaster, but his ancient face was chiseled out of raw fury, and she could suddenly see the legend that had defeated Grindelwald in 1945. Gone was the grandfatherly twinkle in his eyes, and the kind smile that always threatened to break into a face splitting grin had fled too. His eyes ice cold, and within seconds of looking down at the Minister, Fudge's knees had given way, crumpling to the floor. Albus Dumbledore finished walking into the room, the ancient stone floor cracking behind him. He slowly rotated to his left, the lines on his face becoming sharper, his mouth thinning to a piece of paper. Though Snape was a tall man, Dumbledore appeared a God among Mortals, towering over the dark haired man. All fight left Snape, and without another word or gesture, he turned and nearly ran from the ward. Fudge gasped, and passed out on the floor, a gibbering mess. Fawkes had waddled to the foot of Harry's bed, and facing his companion, started a tinkling crystal-like song with a two toned whistle, causing the Headmaster to look at his familiar. He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. When he opened them a full minute later, they looked suspiciously moist.

"Madame Pomfrey, Ms. Granger, my apologies. I had not intended to loose my temper so thoroughly. Please forgive an old man his follies. I had not expected Professor Snape to barge into a Healer's ward as such. Fawkes, my dearest friend, I thank you for your quick actions once more." Fawkes trilled again, and the old man laughed heartily, tossing a grape to his feathered companion. Fawkes greedily snapped it up, and gulped it down. Hermione giggled, forgetting her fears and worries. The phoenix hopped up, and with a burst of flame, appeared on her shoulder. She almost fell over in shock, but the bird gripped a little looser. The teenage girl cooed as Fawkes cuddled against her cheek.

"Madame Pomfrey, may I see your charts and notes from Mr. Potter's treatment this evening? I would like to perhaps offer an opinion?"

"Albus, I would very much appreciate an expert opinion. These results are befuddling, at the least."

"Expert?" Albus Dumbledore cackled. "Expert in only causing trouble and having a sweet tooth." Once again he laughed, winking at his student playing with Fawkes, before erecting privacy charms to consult with the healer. Befuddling, indeed...