Title: Burned (1/3)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Hermione's research of the Veil and into the return of Sirius proves a little more interesting than she expected.
September 2003
12 Grimmauld Place
Hermione cursed as she clutched her hand letting the book fall to the floor. She grimaced as she watched the skin on her palm blister from the Dark Magic native to the volume; she wouldn't ever get used to it. The witch couldn't pick up anything in this damned old study without it burning her. It was bad this time, worse than ever before. Smirking, she knew it meant she was getting closer to the answer.
With a wave of her wand, she sent the book to her desk. Such a shame she was burnt by everything in here, it would make things much easier if she were able to at least turn the pages without sizzling off her skin.
"Another burn, Hermione?"
Her head snapped to the portrait hanging on the wall greeting the man with a smile. "It's not bad this time."
"You've got blisters." He replied shaking his head. "You've been here all night, get some sleep."
"I'm almost there." Hermione walked over to her desk picking up a piece of parchment studying it, biting her lip. "I almost have it."
"You've been at it over a year now, you need to take a break." He sat down in his chair staring at her intently.
"Sirius, stop." She said with a sigh, "Just a little longer."
"This is Dark Magic we're talking about, love. I can't let you do this." Sirius looked away guilty she had even considered this undertaking. The burns on her hands were a constant reminder that it was him, and only him, that she was trying to bring back from the Veil.
"I have to." Hermione replied watching him attempt to look anywhere but her. He failed. "Harry needs you."
"Just Harry?" He shot back.
Hermione smiled up at him. "No, not just Harry." Coming up in front of him, she bit her lip once more in frustration. "It's going to be hard, adjusting to another you."
"We're the same person, Hermione." Sirius flashed her a reckless smile beneath his bangs. "Besides, you're hard not to like, love." He watched as she couldn't help but return his grin. "I suppose it's a good thing that Remus had me painted before I went off and fell through." She raised an eyebrow. "We wouldn't be in this situation if he hadn't."
"I suppose," she agreed. "Sirius," Hermione trailed off looking up at him before finally looking away running a hand through her curls. Nervously, she smoothed out her hair.
"I know - I know you're scared. You don't have to do this. I never wanted you to." Sirius watched the anxiety she was known for keeping in check bubble up.
"It's not that." He gave her a questioning look. This was a dangerous mission, that much he knew. How could she not be scared? She was going to pull him out of the Veil. Yes, she had put more than enough research into this endeavor, but the danger of it was overwhelming. It was frustrating, as for over a year, she refused to relay to him what was needed of her to bring him back. "As I said, it's going to be an adjustment – for all of us."
"Like I said, love, we're the same person."
"But to me you're not. We've spent so much time together. I know you almost as well as I know the back of my hand. He's going to come back, and it's going to go back to how it was that summer." She wouldn't look at him.
"I- " He stopped himself, shaking his head once more before standing up and coming to the front of the portrait. "He'll learn. I did." He flashed her another smile trying to get a rise out of her. It didn't work.
August 2002
12 Grimmauld Place
Hermione stormed up the stairs angry with another one of Harry and his ever-constant rage. She'd accidentally dropped a porcelain cup while making tea, and it was then that he snapped, cursing her up and down for destroying it. Even Ginny hadn't been able to calm him down.
She was already on edge, having just found out Ron had cheated on her. and the subsequent break up that ensued had shaken her more than she cared to admit. Harry's constant rows with everyone in the house were starting to grate on her nerves making everything worse tenfold. While Voldemort had been defeated years ago, she had known that Harry still had his demons, but his outlet for his anger on her was hardly the most productive use for it.
Blindly marching through 12 Grimmauld Place, she rounded a corner finding herself at the door of one of the many rooms that had been abandoned once Sirius had died. Pushing the door open, thankful for the chance to be alone, she was met with a study lined with books.
Curious, Hermione pulled an unmarked book off the shelf only to quickly drop it as it scorched her hands. She cried out as the book fell open, letting out a screech of its own. Quickly, she scrambled to shut it.
"Dark Magic."
Hermione whipped around, wand already in hand and pointing at the source of the voice.
"Sirius?" She whispered mouth gaping.
"The one and only." The man in the portrait grinned at her, pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes. He eyed the festering burn on her palms. "Dark Magic," he repeated, "Muggleborns can't touch anything in this study without it burning them, 'preferably to bits' as my wretched mother repeatedly said."
"When did you-"
"Remus had me painted for my birthday summer your fifth year." He cut her off knowingly. "Actually, Hermione, what year is it? You've grown, I see." She blushed as his eyes raked up and down her body openly. " I've been cooped up in this blasted study for ages now, and you're first person that's wandered in here. Remus?" He continued rattling off questions, "Where is the bloke?"
Awkwardly, Hermione cleared her throat, "It's 2002." Not meeting his eyes, she continued, "Remus is dead. The war is over, we won, but we lost many a good people in the fight. He was one of them."
Sirius sunk into his chair, head in his hands. "He was the last of us." Not knowing what to say, Hermione kept quiet. "Harry? Harry's all right at least?" He looked up, hope in his eyes.
"He's alive, yes, but he's not doing too well after the loss of Remus. He said he was the last connection to you and his dad." She explained turning back to the shelves of books examining them closely. Picking one up, she pushed through the pain as it seared her hands flipping through it with interest.
"He used to visit me, Remus, I mean." Sirius stood, pacing the inside of his portrait. "I think he knew I was going to do something idiotic, had me painted to keep him company if it happened. He told me I fell into the Veil, used to stay in here for hours drinking Firewhiskey talking with me." Hermione watched as he spoke, rather speaking more to himself than her.
Shifting her feet, Hermione continued to peruse the tome letting Sirius recount memories with his fallen friend. "Sirius," she interrupted him, "This whole study is filled with books written about Dark Magic?"
"Yes, my family was somewhat known for that, as you know. My mother was quite proud of this particular study."
She looked past him, thinking. Quickly, she pivoted running her wand down the spines of the ratty old volumes muttering to herself. Flicking her wand, a Quick Quill appeared and she began speaking faster than he could hear. Sirius sat down, crossing his legs as the brunette ignored him, wrapped in her own world.
September 2003
12 Grimmauld Place
Hermione smirked to herself triumphantly. She was finally done, and if she were a bragging woman, she would she say she did a damned good job. Figuring out how to bring Sirius back from the Veil had been no small task, over a year of tireless work and she had finally found the key. She was ready to bring him back. Well, physically she was ready to bring him back, emotionally, she still wasn't so sure about that.
Spending more than enough time with the Marauder, Hermione had taken quite a fancy to him. Twisting around in her chair, she glanced over at the portrait with the sleeping man inside. She had gotten to know him better than she ever thought she would have. And, he had gotten to know things about her, personal things – fears and goals - that not even Ginny knew. She smiled as she watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. Soon he would be here, in the flesh.
Hermione looked away, downcast. Expressing to him her fear that the connection with the real Sirius Black wouldn't be as profound was an understatement. If she were being completely honest with herself, Hermione Granger was terrified that she wouldn't have the same engaging conversation, the same wit, even the same pranks played on her as the Sirius she had gotten to know was capable of. This man coming back, he was broken. He would have seen things that could make a person go insane, twice over.
Of course, the Sirius in the picture had also seen things no person should ever have, his days in Azkaban coming to mind. Azkaban, she thought with a shudder. Her hands were covered in scars from the burns she received from the manuscripts, but it was hardly anything compared to the ones covering Sirius's body. His emotional scars were worse, she was more than aware of that.
October 2002
12 Grimmauld Place
"What's your favorite color?"
"Black."
"Seriously?"
"I am always Sirius." Sirius cheekily replied.
He had finally managed to convince Hermione to take a break from her research, but he had been unaware that when she said since they were going to be spending so much time together that she should get to know him, that it would hardly have been more than a few questions. He was quite wrong.
"And your tea? Two sugars? Three?" It had been two months since her epiphany that the books that lined the walls of this study could might hold the answer to brining Sirius back. Originally, Harry had been her sole reason in returning Sirius back to the Wizarding World, but now, she had mixed feelings about who she was really doing it for. Sirius Black, the one who used to set her off, was now the one she spent the majority of her time with. And, if she was being completely honest, she was starting to grow feelings for him. She silently reprimanded herself, who falls in love with a portrait?
"Honey." He replied shaking her from her thoughts.
"Who painted you? It's not like Remus could have hired someone to come in, you were a convicted murderer at the time." Hermione asked.
"'Dung. Convicted murderer 'at the time?' Am I cleared, then?"
"Mundungus Fletcher?"
"Yeah, right old shady fellow, but was a wiz with a brush. Remus got wind of it and had him paint me. I'm surprised he didn't take me along when he ransacked the house. 'Dung wouldn't even touch this room."
"Yes, Harry had you cleared after he proved your innocence." Finally answering his question, "Took awhile, but he managed it. Have you ever been in the girl's dormitories?" She continued smiling at him, having only been privy to few of his stories of his days at Hogwarts since she had first started coming to the study.
Hermione was awarded with a wink and a smirk. "This is Sirius Black you're talking to, of course I have, 'Mione."
"'Mione, it is?" She shot him a look.
"Yes, 'Mione. But yeah, I have, many times. Quite a problem getting up there it was at first, but I got pretty good at getting up that staircase."
"Your favorite memory of Hogwarts?" Hermione pressed, pleased he was opening up to her. She watched as he sat back smiling at the memories coming forth.
"Pranking Snivellus." He was met with a disapproving glare, "Ah, er, Snape." Sirius corrected. "James and I put Forgetfullness Potion in his butterbeer one year at The Three Broomsticks." He chuckled. "Remus figured out how to charm it so he couldn't taste it. Had Sniv – er, Snape, forgetting where everything was. Walked right into the girl's lavatory, he did. Slytherin lost a lot of house points that day." His eyes darkened at the thought of Snape now. "What happened to Snivellus?"
"Dead. Voldemort killed him."
"Good riddance."
"Sirius!" Hermione exclaimed.
"You're favorite color." Sirius deflected, effectively changing the subject.
Hermione let it go, knowing better, "Green," she answered. Biting the inside of her cheek, she hesitated before asking her question. She had always wanted to know, but wasn't sure when the right time was to ask. Better now before she didn't have the chance again, "What was Azkaban like?"
His expression immediately darkened.