DISCLAIMER: Don't own it

All bow for my wonderful beta MoonyNZ... She is fan-freakin-tastic (and a wonderful twinsie-winsie too)

Rua

July 6, 1997

The smell of bacon sizzling wafted through the house, drifting luxuriously from room to room. Coffee, the bitter sweet aroma followed direly after.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes as the smell reached her, blinking against the onset of light. The room swam before her, slowly straightening once more after a few seconds.

Her first thought was, quite frankly, 'where the bloody hell am I?,' and then she remembered…she remembered laughing with her parents, hiding when the Death Eaters came, the screams as Voldemort tortured her parents, running, and then him.

He had found her.

She set up with a groan, rubbing her forehead as she slowly looked around her. She scrutinized her surroundings, studying everything from how he decorated the walls to the photographs and other little knickknacks that were placed around the room.

She noticed there was nothing really modern in the room. The pictures were of the Marauders, only younger looking, and of Lily and Lauri. There were a few containing a woman.

That was her…

Hermione was startled by the sheltered look in her eyes in some of the pictures. It appeared as if she was guarding some secret, even from Sirius. Brown eyes, shielded eyes.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. She walked over to one of the pictures on the wall and reached out to touch the frame. The woman who was bundled in a heavy black cloak turned slowly to look at her, snow swirling around her.

A smile…

A slow, warm smile broke out on the woman's face as she ignored the bitter crack of the winter wind. Brown connected with brown.

Hermione's eyes connected with the scar that ran down the woman's cheek. Instinctively, her hand reached up to touch her own cheek, feeling smooth, unmarred skin.

"Why are you so familiar?" she whispered as her hand fell from her face. The woman's smile only grew more secretive…haunted.

She turned away, her eyes squeezed shut. The woman was so familiar to her and yet she just couldn't figure it out. Why did she suddenly know her pain?

A touch…

The briefest of touches on her arm startled her, causing her to spin around in fright. Grey eyes filled with worry connected with hers as he caught her arm to keep her from falling.

"Hermione?"

"You startled me," she muttered weakly. "I thought you were…"

Her words died off but he knew what she was going to say. It wasn't that hard to figure out really considering what occurred over the past two days.

His eyes softened as he stepped forward and took her hand. "I'm sorry for startling you, truly I am. I just wanted to check in on you and see whether you were better or not."

She smiled at him, giving his hand a light squeeze. "I'm much better, thank you, Sirius, but I really need to go back home. There are arrangements to be made."

The look on his face at that moment made her uneasy. She didn't like that look at all…

"Hermione, I'm sorry," he started and she immediately withdrew her hand from his, wrapping her arms about her tightly. He sighed. "We think it's best if you just stay here for a while."

"Why?" she asked as tears started to pool in her eyes.

"Voldemort is after you and he is determined to get you. He expects you to be at the funeral and he would try his best to capture you, even at the service."

"They are my parents, Sirius! I can't just not go."

He gripped her shoulders, bringing her closer to him. "Yes, you can. You can mourn from here. For your safety, you're going to have to!"

She tore away from him, walking towards the picture. Picking it up, she saw the woman studying her. She suddenly found herself wishing she had her strength…

She looked up at Sirius. "This is your house, isn't it? The one you used to refuse to sleep in, let alone stay in." She glanced back down at the picture. "This is the house you shared with her, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"You loved her, you still do," she stated simply, her eyes unblinking. "Tell me, when she was killed did you lock yourself away and not go to the funeral?"

He stiffened, his hands clenching tightly at his sides. "No," he answered softly.

"So how can you ask that of me?"

"Because your life is in danger whereas mine wasn't," he argued reasonably. "We're only trying to protect you, Hermione. If there was any other way…"

"But there isn't," she finished meekly for him. Her eyes, filled with tears, met his. "I didn't get to say goodbye. Please don't stand in my way of saying my final goodbyes."

That seemed to pain him for some reason as he looked away from her, his eyes going to a small black box in the corner. She watched him carefully.

"I'll see what I can do," he answered finally, his voice strange.

She smiled softly and stepped up to him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it lightly. "Thank you, Sirius. Thank you so much."

He stared at her in an odd way for a moment before breaking away, walking back to the door. "Breakfast is ready if you want some."

She nodded and followed him out, her eyes slowly looking around the large house as they went. She silently memorized the details, her mind reeling with flashes of the house.

The last thing she remember was a younger James and Sirius wrestling over a box of candy on the floor before everything suddenly went black.

AmAyAtHeGrEaTlOvEsThEpHaNtOm

One often finds that in dreams one can escape into another world that is mystical and unexplainable. Some dreams of things they wished to be, such as riches, a new job, even a new lover on occasion. Some just dream up possibilities of the days to come.

And then you have the rare dream that makes no sense at all and yet seems familiar.

It is hard to make sense of these dreams, deciphering them can become a 'pulling out the hair' type of experience. The can cause unease until finally they are pegged as "just a dream" and left at that.

But Hermione Granger knew the dreams she was having weren't "just dreams." They were so fantastical and lifelike that there had to be some meaning behind them.

Now all she had to do was figure out what that meaning was.

She sat up in the darkness of the room, glorifying the fact that someone had been kind enough to pull the drapes close so that the austere sun couldn't seep in.

She wanted to sleep, and yet at the same time didn't want to sleep for fear of the dreams she would have once she drifted off.

Basically that left her to just sitting in bed, staring off into space.

She knew Sirius was still in the house; she could hear him moving about downstairs. Occasionally she would hear a pop and know that someone had just apparated in, and then she would hear the sound of disapparation.

To continue sitting here or to go find Sirius? That was a very good question.

Hermione rolled her head from side to side for a few moments before finally rising from the bed. She was bored and it wouldn't do to continue to sit there if she had no book to read.

She strolled around the room a few times, picking up an object every now and then before moving on. She had just picked up the small black box when the door opened and Sirius walked in.

"Hermione?"

She turned and smiled sweetly at him. "Hello, Sirius. I was just looking around, I hope you don't mind."

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering to the box in her hand before shrugging. "No, go ahead and look. It's just a bunch of old stuff."

She stared at him incredulously. "It's memories, Sirius, and I think you care a lot more than you're letting on."

He smiled at her savagely. "You caught me, Hermione, I do care. Actually, I care a great deal but what does it matter? You plan on looking the second my back is turned anyway."

She stared at him stonily for a second, meeting his gaze head on. Slowly, she turned and placed the box back onto the shelf, muttering, "You're right, I'm sorry. I have no right to pry into your personal life. Forgive me."

He sighed and took a step towards her. "No, I'm the one that is sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. It's just been a long day."

She smiled weakly. "And then you have to take care of me on top of that."

He smiled genuinely and took another step. "That's no problem at all."

She paused for a moment before returning his smile. She then turned and opened the drapes, letting the light flood the room. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of the sun's light on her skin.

She felt rather than heard him approach her. He stopped directly behind her, staring at a point over her shoulder. She figured he was lost in his memories judging by his sudden stillness.

"She used to do this some mornings when the sun was first rising," he whispered. "She would come over here and throw open the blinds, her eyes simply staring while her mind floated a million miles away."

She turned to stare at him, waiting for him to go on. "I never figured out what was on her mind until after she died," he finished in a soft, pained voice.

"Was this your room?"

He looked down at her and smiled. "Yes, it was."

"Then I shouldn't be in here," she said in a rush, moving to brush by him but he caught her arm. "Yes, you should," he said. "I haven't stayed in this room for a long time." He smiled. "Can you believe that this is the first time I've actually stood in it since her death?"

"It's not healthy to not move on, Sirius. Everyone needs closure, and I don't think you got yours. I think you need to find it."

His lips pursed and his gaze flickered back to the window. She watched him closely, her eyes slowly moving over his facial features before moving lower. She felt stir low in her belly as her eyes took their time looking over him.

As her eyes ran back up to his face, she found him watching her. She blushed and looked away, embarrassed at being caught. A single digit under her chin brought her face back to look up at him.

"You're right," he said, "I do need closure, and I think I am finding it. It's just taking me longer than usual. The closure I am receiving isn't the normal kind."

Her forehead crinkled as she considered what he could possibly mean. He laughed softly, brushing a wild curl from her face. "Don't worry about it."

She nodded, turning away from him and back towards the window. "Sirius…," she hesitated, unsure as to whether she wanted to share or not.

"Yes?"

She turned back to him, staring up into his grey eyes. Smiling slightly, she responded with a simple, "Nothing," and a mild shrug of her shoulder.

His eyes scanned her before he simply said, "Come on, let's go get you some breakfast."

AmAyAtHeGrEaTlOvEsChEeZiTZ

July 10, 1997

The fire burned low in the fireplace as the night wore on, the clock striking midnight. The fireplace was magically spelled so that a log would occasionally float into it, stirring the flames back to life.

The man sitting in front of it cradled a bottle of fire whisky in his left hand, a picture in his right. Occasionally his gaze would flicker down to the picture and then he would take another large gulp of the fiery liquid from the bottle.

His black hair hung slightly in his face as he tilted his head down. His body was relaxed and tense at the same time as his mind reeled with memories of the past.

The fireplace on the other side of the room was lit and there sat Hermione, a small figure huddled up in an overly large fleece blanket. She looked so small to him, though he could not stop the small smile at how cute she looked just then.

"You can come on in," Hermione said, startling him. She turned her head slightly and smiled at him. "I don't bite, you know."

He chuckled, "Not hard anyways, right?"

Hermione shared his laughter. "Not hard," she agreed and patted the space on the rug beside of her. She watched as he slowly approached and took the seat beside of her.

Hermione wrapped half of her blanket around his shoulders after conjuring them both up a steaming cup of hot chocolate with a heaping amount of marshmallows on top.

He smiled in content as he sipped at the warm liquid and watched Hermione doing the same, a bit of marshmallow sticking to the tip of her nose. "You're getting that all over you," he laughed as he stuck out a finger and wiped it off her nose.

Hermione blushed and smiled. "I've always loved this stuff, however, I always somehow manage to make myself look like a complete idiot while drinking it."

He leaned closer to her and bumped her lightly. "I thought you looked cute, just like a little girl who can't wait to drink it all up."

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. "Great, I remind you of a child…"

"A cute child," he interrupted, grinning charmingly at her. She laughed and he joined her as they both raised their mugs in a silent salute and drank deeply.

He threw back his head as he took another large gulp. His mind flew from that memory to the young woman currently sleeping upstairs in his bed.

Sirius stared at the front door, wishing she would just come back. He knew he had went about it the wrong way. Instead of protecting her, he had distanced himself from her.

And now he had possibly lost her. No, she would come back, she had to. She loved him and he…he couldn't live without her. She had to come back to him.

Why did he have to lose control? Why did he put that spell on her? Why had he let her walk out on him like that without discussing it?

The questions continued to run through his mind as the hours ticked by. He had to look for her, it was as simple as that. He needed to find her and apologize.

As soon as he threw open the door to rush out, he saw her. She was standing on the doorstep with the suitcase in her hand and a contemplating look on her face.

Without a second thought, he pulled her into his arms where she rested willingly. He silently swore that he would never let her get away again…

He hadn't been able to keep that promise. In the end he had lost her.

The bottle was empty now and he frowned at it. That was his last bottle and quite frankly he could do with another one…or two. Yes, two would be lovely.

There was a soft pop followed shortly by another just behind him but he didn't even bother turning around. He knew exactly who it was visiting him. They had been showing up periodically throughout the day to 'check up on him' though they never said it.

"Sirius?"

It was Remus that posed the silent question, though Sirius was sure that James was wanting to ask the same thing.

"I'm fine," he spat out, reclining in the couch with his eyes tightly closed.

He felt the couch depress beside of him and knew it was James who had sat down beside of him. "No you're not Pads," he said softly, "so stop pretending and better yet, stop drinking."

He only opened his eyes when he felt the bottle being ripped from him and that was only to glare at the thief- Remus. "That's alright, it was empty anyways," he muttered darkly.

A grin creased the werewolf's face as he perched lightly on the arm of the couch. "Come on, Sirius, why don't you just go ahead and let it all out. You know you're going to sooner or later."

The grey eyed man rounded angrily on them, standing so suddenly that he shocked them both. "What do you want me to say?" he demanded. "I have Hermione bloody Granger lying upstairs in my bed and she doesn't know a damn thing! Do you expect me to be happy? Do you expect me to pour my pitiful heart out to her?"

"No," James answered, standing as well, "but you can't just pretend as if nothing is wrong when everyone knows there damn well is!"

"Shut up, James, you have no idea what you're talking about," Sirius growled.

"Don't I?" his best friend demanded. "Do you think you're the only one who isn't reminded of the past and what we lost when you look at her? No, we all remember, Sirius, and we all hurt because of it."

"It's not the same!" Sirius cried, surprised to find his eyes tearing up slightly.

"No," Remus spoke up softly, "it isn't, but because of that you need to let us help you."

Sirius shook his head a few times before turning towards the fireplace, bracing himself against the mantle. "I can remember everything and I hate not understanding."

Remus walked up behind him and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "That's to be expected, Sirius."

Sirius rested his forehead against the mantle, allowing the heat from the flames to warm his body. "I just…I just want to know, you know? I need to know."

James and Remus exchanged a look, understanding perfectly what their friend was talking about. On the staircase, Hermione rested her head against the wall, wondering what was bothering her saviour so.

A/N: So very very sorry that it took me so long to get this up. I was on Spring Break and didn't have internet on my computer. This story is pickin' up...I haven't finished it yet but I'm working on it.

Thanks for reading...I'm still looking for a male writer to help me if anyone is interested... I'm looking for someone who can relate to an older male...not so much Remus 'cause I don't know whether he'd fit into the story I have in mind...

Much love,

MiZZ AmAyA