~oOo~
The memories of all that had happened behind Sirius' bedroom door that night came back to her in a flood of heated flashes, images so explicit, so tender, so loving – yes, he told her he loved her, many times, and in a way that made it the gospel truth… Images and memories so exquisite- she could recall every touch, sound, feeling in perfect detail. Her recollections combined with Sirius' suggestive words and brought a warm flush to her face.
She turned her attention back to his voice…
"…our children, and our grandchildren, I saw years and years of building a life together, of making up for mistakes, of learning each other, of lovemaking and laughter and tears." She could hear the smile in his voice now as he continued, "I saw us embarrassing our children by being naughty in front of them, the way my own parents used to embarrass Reg and me, and I saw…"
Sirius paused suddenly. She felt his thumb trace along her cheek, then he muttered slowly, "You're…blushing… Kitten-? Y-you can hear me… you – you are in there…" his voice was an urgent and tremulous whisper.
Hermione realized then that the warm flush his words elicited must have made it through to her body somehow.Yes! Yes I'm here!she cried silently, struggling with renewed hope, but to no avail. While her cheeks may have reddened slightly, her limbs still felt leaden, and she couldn't seem to even move a pinky.
This mattered little, however, as Sirius' joyful laugh rumbled briefly next to her before dying down. He spoke with a renewed purpose and determination. "I won't let you stay stuck here, love. If I have travel the whole fucking globe to find an answer, I'll get you back, I promise you. You just have to hang - "
"Mister Black?" a young female voice called from the doorway. Hermione recognized it instantly as one of the Patil sisters.
"Not now," Sirius answered quietly but firmly over his shoulder, before returning his lips to her fingertips.
"W-we were hoping - "
"I said not now!" he snapped in an impatient bark. "You can come back tomorrow," he added in a softer tone.
"No." This time it was Lavender Brown's voice that came firm and clear.
"Pardon?" Sirius asked warningly. "Who are you?"
"We're Hermione's dorm mates," Parvati answered. "We're her friends."
"And we think we can help her," came a similar but different voice, and Hermione realized with curiosity that both Padma and Parvati were present.
She heard Sirius rise to his feet with a sigh. "That's… very sweet, ladies, but Madam Pomfrey - "
"We heard Pomfrey talking about her with McGonagall just now," Lavender interrupted in a frank and tactless tone. "They think she's a lost case, that the Cruciatus curse must have destroyed her mind, even though she shows no signs that even resemble other cases."
"Yes, well people react differently - " Sirius began wearily, despite his sudden renewed hope.
"No, they don't," Lavender insisted, the crisp clicking of her low-heeled shoes coming nearer. "My Grandmum was head nurse of the fourth floor at St. Mungo's for years. She was there for the first war, and saw every case of Cruciatus damage that came through those doors." Her tone was slightly sheepish as she added, "I – well, when things started to get bad, I asked her about it. She said they were all the same - just like Neville's parents, but most were worse, and none of them survived as long as the Longbottoms have. But not a single one of them was laid out like Sleeping Beauty as a result of the curse."
"She… has she not stirred at all – not even once?" Padma asked softly.
"No," Sirius whispered.
"Mister Black – I know… well, everyone's been talking about how you've not left Hogwarts since – since it happened," she continued delicately. "So I know you obviously care for Hermione very much. But I – we, we were wondering if we might try something. I've actually seen her kind of like this before," Padma added.
Sirius took a patient breath. "I'm sorry, ladies. I do appreciate your concern, but I'm afraid I cannot allow you to just come in here and start casting spells over her - "
"No-no!," Parvati interrupted. "Not magic," she explained.
"Then, what…" his voice was confused and wary.
"Look, it's just a hunch, andmaybeI'm wrong," Padma said slowly, though her tone was skeptical about the 'wrong' part. She was, after all, a Ravenclaw, and they seldom allowed themselves to have a wrong answer to anything. "But if I am, I promise you she won't be any worse off than she is now."
"Please," Lavender added softly.
"No magic?" Sirius clarified.
"We swear," Padma answered eagerly. "I just want to talk to her. You don't even have to leave, but I will need absolute quiet."
"I can watch the door," Lavender offered.
Taking another deep breath, Sirius finally said, "Alright."
Hermione could hear the odd sound of wood and metal clinking together before the scrape of chairs met her ears on either side of her. Both of her hands were taken in by two sets of soft, feminine hands, and the one on her right was squeezed softly.
"Hey, Hermione, it's Padma," came the familiar but still exotic lilt of an Indian-British accent. "I think we both know you can probably hear me," she said wryly. "Got yourself stuck again, did you?"
'Again'? Hermione wondered, and then remembering suddenly, Ohh…
"I remember when Parvati first invited you to practice yoga with us," Padma continued with warmth amusement. "You promptly went off and read every book you could find on the subject. We were both quite surprised that you were so interested in the meditative and spiritual aspects of the practice, and even more surprised when you proved so adept at it. Too adept, really, and I seem to recall telling you that you were jumping in too fast, that it wasn't something to rush, it required years of practice and patience. More than once you took longer than normal to pull out of a meditative state, and I suspected you were coming quite close to trancing. Remember when I found you after Dumbledore's funeral?"
Of course she remembered, now.
The world had been turned upside down in a matter of days with the murder of Hogwarts' beloved headmaster. 'The war' that she'd thought of and talked about for so long had truly begun, starting right there on school grounds. Whether the school would even remain open for next term was very much up in the air, but that was a moot point, as she, Ron, and Harry would not be returning.
And then, amidst these very heavy and real concerns, there was Sirius Black and the frustrating discovery that, despite having not seen him at all since Christmas, she was no less affected by his presence. And how inappropriate - how shallow and weak and small was she for even paying him more than a passing thought right there in front of Dumbledore's tomb?
As soon as she'd been able, she'd excused herself from the crowd and found her favourite secluded spot on the other side of the grounds lake. It had all become too much and, finding a large tree to sit against, she sank to the ground and allowed all tension and thought to drip from her mind. Every time a worry or conscious thought crept up, she'd narrowed her focus even more on the steady in-out of her own breathing, until she was deep, deep inside of herself.
It had been Padma who'd found her there, hours later. The twins had originally been pulled from Hogwarts immediately after Dumbledore's death, but they'd managed to convince their parents to allow them to return for the funeral.
Hermione hadn't even been aware of just how deeply she'd gotten herself until the Ravenclaw's voice had broken into her silence. When she'd found herself unable to physically respond, Padma had knowingly and swiftly guided her out of her meditative state, then proceeded to lecture Hermione fiercely, making her promise to never do such a thing again.
Hermione had stood by that promise, or so she'd thought, careful to only practice relaxation exercises in conjunction with yoga postures for short periods of time. But that day at Malfoy Manor, when she'd felt her own sanity slipping from her tortured grasp… was it possible? Out of instinct, she'd focused so intently on one thing, the most important thing to her – Sirius, repeating his name and image in her mind like a mantra, letting her consciousness slip into the safe and loving folds of memories, feelings, and images all centered around the grey-eyed wizard. If her torture had lasted as long as they'd said, she supposed it was more than possible…
"Well, I imagine if you are stuck, since it's been quite a while, we'll start from a hundred, then," Padma murmured warmly. Then, as if knowing the wild sense of excitement and anticipation Hermione was surely feeling, she added, "You'll need to relax and be patient, Hermione. Focus on the sound of my voice, and the rhythm of your breathing, so steady, so slow, so deep… the air around you filling your every cell. You are one with everything, and everything is one with your mind… the images and thoughts are all narrowing, elongating, spinning into shimmering golden threads in the darkness with every breath… they are joining now, twisting and weaving themselves into a long golden rope attached to your solar plexus, a living, breathing, golden umbilical cord. See how it sways and curves with each breath, arcing out into the darkness… slowly, with each breath, its motion is decreasing… its curves growing smaller and smaller as if the rope is tightening, leading to a tiny point you can see in the darkness. The cord pulses with each breath, its light shining so softly…"
Hermione was transfixed by the hypnotic timbre of Padma's voice. All her thoughts seemed perfectly spun, immaculately braided into the long, glowing, golden cord that extended from her center. It seemed strong and fragile at the same time, and for a moment she hesitated, struggling with the impulse to grab onto the rope and haul herself quickly out of this darkness.
"With each breath, Hermione, you understand more and more that youarethe rope, just as you are the darkness. And with each slow… steady… deep breath, you can feel the rope tug, ever so gently, guiding you toward that tiny point in the darkness," Padma continued softly. "It is closer than it looks, you realize, as the cord tugs you again, pulling your drifting form with each breath… one hundred… the tiny spot of light is ever so slightly bigger now… ninety-nine… you feel a slow steady pull now with each inhale… ninety-eight… a gentle pause as you exhale… ninety-seven… inhale, you are pulled closer… ninety-six… exhale, you float…"
This continued, the light at the end of the long golden rope becoming brighter, bigger, growing closer, as Hermione was gently pulled towards it. At 'fifty' it was clearly an opening, a round golden porthole. At 'forty' she stepped into a perfectly round, vacant, but warm golden room to find the cord tied to the bottom rung of a glowing white ladder. With the rhythmic counts of 'thirty-nine' to 'thirty,' her fingers slowly untied the knot and she watched as the rope uncoiled and retracted into her chest, its golden light filling her with a buoyancy and self-awareness that made her want to laugh. Her limbs felt feather-light now, especially compared to the previously dull, dark, leaden feeling that was now well behind her as she started up the first of twenty ladder rungs, one step for each deep, steady, cleansing breath. Then, suddenly, she stepped out into the blue skies and warm green grass of Hogwarts' grounds. It was breathtakingly beautiful, but there was some place she was supposed to be…
"You turn around, and in another breath, there is a clean, soft, luxurious bed, floating just above the ground, beckoning. It will take you where you need to go. When you get in, the sheets feel cool and fresh against your skin. You breathe in, and out again, wiggling your fingers and toes against the soft fabric that surrounds you…"
With a thrill, Hermione felt her fingers and toes move against something so tangible, more real than anything she'd felt on this journey. Padma's gentle voice tugged at her attention, however, guiding her to continue breathing as the bed slowly rose on the count of ten, drifting through the entrance of the school in steady pulses synched with her breathing, until finally, on the count of 'two' she recognized her surroundings as the hospital wing, and on the count of 'one' the bed came to rest on the floor with a long and easy exhale.
"…With another inhale, you realize your limbs feel light, your body filled with glowing, golden energy, so easily moved and connected perfectly to your mind. As you exhale, the sounds of your breath and your heartbeat mingle, you are alive, alive and awake and perfectly aware…"
Starting at her toes, Hermione mentally assessed the feel of her own body, the leaden weight completely gone. Her nose itched and twitched involuntarily, and her mouth suddenly felt so dry, that without thinking she swallowed and felt with delightful awareness her tongue pressing against the roof of her mouth and teeth. Slowly she wiggled her toes and flexed her feet, and then her fingers, which were still held by two soft hands.
"You can open your eyes now, Hermione," Padma whispered.
The first thing that came into focus was the ceiling – that familiar stone ceiling she knew so well from the other times she'd awakened in a bed in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Instinctively, her gaze turned to the source of the voice that had guided her out of that long darkness. Emerald green eyes gazed affectionately at her from the dark, exotic face of her Ravenclaw friend.
"There you are," Padma smiled.
Hermione tried to speak, to say 'hello' or 'thank you', but a weak croak was all her parched throat could manage. Then, a movement caught her eye over Padma's shoulder, and her heart skipped a beat.
Sirius.
The glossy black unkempt hair that had grown once more past his shoulders and the carelessly full beard that shadowed his face somehow did nothing to detract from his appearance. It was his eyes, anyway – storm cloud grey and filled with so much unspeakable tenderness that it took her breath away. Oh, how she'd missed him… Her throat suddenly felt knotted and tight, and her eyes stung with long-needed tears.
She tried to sit up too quickly and felt a nauseating wave sweep over her.
"Easy," Padma murmured as she and Parvati helped her, conjuring pillows to prop her up.
"Dizzy," Hermione whispered, closing her eyes briefly.
"Here - " Parvati conjured a glass of cool water and held it to her lips. "Small sips. You've been magically nourished and maintained this whole time, but since you haven't actually eaten or moved, I bet you'll be going through a bit of unpleasantness for a day or so as you adjust."
The water felt amazingly cool and refreshing, and Hermione couldn't help but smile gratefully. Her brief dizzy spell passed and her throat was starting to feel better already. As much as she wanted to just throw herself into Sirius' arms, she realized she owed more than she could repay to the Patil twins.
"Thank you," she finally whispered to Padma, although words would never express her relief and gratitude.
Padma gave an understanding smile. "You broke your promise to me, dhakkan," she teased softly. "But I think I can forgive you this time."
Padma and Parvati stood then, and Padma turned to Sirius, who was still frozen in place, a look of wonder on his face. "There you go," she said warmly and motioned to Hermione.
He hesitated only a fraction longer, his eyes still holding a hint of disbelief and uncertainty. Merlin, he's beautiful, Hermione thought hungrily, and couldn't help the smile that crept over her face. As if that were all the encouragement he needed, Sirius blinked suddenly, and with a gasp he was at her side, hands tenderly tracing her face, eyes searching hers for some unnamable thing.
"Kitten?" he murmured, and then she understood – of course it would seem unbelievable for her to suddenly awaken, completely herself and not addled or broken. She smiled wider at him, nodding through the happy tears that were now threatening her eyes.
"Yes, Sirius," whispered, and gave a watery laugh as he proceeded to rain kisses over her face. Her laughter turned to a sigh when his lips finally met hers, and she reached up then, curling a hand around his neck to draw him closer.
Far too soon they were interrupted by a loud, shocked gasp from the doorway and the rushed steps of Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. Everything happened very quickly after that, with a barrage of questions and explanations given by both Hermione and Padma, followed by poking and prodding to see that all of Hermione's limbs and senses worked properly, and then, because she insisted she needed to go to the loo, they finally allowed her to get up from the bed and walk, albeit shakily, with Sirius' assistance.
Her hopes for a moment alone with Sirius were dashed, as the moment she stepped out of the little bathroom at the end of the infirmary, the hospital wing was filled with several voices shouting her name. Sirius wrapped a protective arm around her waist as Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George ran toward them.
"Let her breathe," he growled in a warning tone as he guided Hermione back to the semi-enclosed room where she'd spent the last three weeks. When they entered the area, a small feeling of dread came over her.
She touched Sirius' arm and paused. When he turned to her questioningly, she gave him a sheepish smile. "I really don't want to get into that bed again," she admitted.
Smiling back in understanding, he let go of her waist and motioned to one of the chairs. She was secretly grateful he let her take those few steps unassisted. She felt very weak, but otherwise she was certain she was alright. Madam Pomfrey explained that the weakness was most likely due to not having had any proper food and being unconscious for weeks. She had run a regular series of diagnostics on Hermione every week, verifying that she was physically fine. However, both Pomfrey and McGonagall were in cautious agreement that the St. Mungo's official who was coming the next day should proceed with a full assessment of Hermione's health. Which, unfortunately, meant spending at least one more night in the infirmary, and she wanted to put off bed or sleep for as long as possible.
"Only two at a time!" Madam Pomfrey was insisting as she stood at the doorway, holding out her hands against the small but rapidly growing group of friends that were rushing over to Hogwarts upon word that Hermione had awoken.
After the last visitor had been shoo'ed out of the hospital wing at half past eleven, Hermione glanced up to see Padma, Parvati, and Lavender hovering awkwardly nearby. Finally, Lavender came and bent over her first, giving her a tight hug and mumbling, "Glad you're back, Hermione. We were really worried."
"Yeah," Parvati agreed, and gave Hermione a hug.
When Padma came over to say her 'goodnight' however, Sirius stood and wrapped his arms around her in a grateful embrace, murmuring his heartfelt thanks to the surprised witch. She then laughingly leaned over and hugged Hermione and said, "I'll probably see you tomorrow. Pomfrey is sure they're going to want to talk to me as well."
~oOo~
One week. One entire week, they had kept her at St. Mungo's for observation. While the practical side of her agreed that, given the circumstances it was completely understandable and probably a good thing, Hermione had truly reached end of her patience by day seven. They'd actually wanted to keep her longer, but neither she nor Sirius would have it. It was one time when she was actually grateful for his rather intimidating temper, as her release forms were prepared and signed in record time, declaring her to be in perfect health and clearing her for any and all normal physical activity.
As Hermione signed her name to the last form, the pretty, young receptionist behind the counter whispered to her conspiratorially, "Your fiance is very protective of you – he threatened to have the head Healer's job if they didn't release you today. Said they'd done enough poking and prodding and if they didn't let you go home, he'd buy the whole hospital just so he could fire him."
'Fiance?' Hermione thought as her eyebrows shot up and she felt her cheeks warm.
Just then, Sirius rounded the corner with her overnight bag draped over his arm. "Ready, love?" he grinned happily, as he held out his hand to her.
Oh heavens, was she ever. Much like the first twenty-four hours at Hogwarts after she'd awoken, every waking 'visitors hour' at St. Mungo's had been filled with friends and Order members come to visit, leaving virtually no time to spend alone with Sirius. If it hadn't been for the fact that he was always present during the times that everyone else came and went, she'd have felt concerned that they'd hardly gotten to speak to each other at all.
When they got to the lifts, they were both disappointed to find that the car was filled, leaving just enough room to let them both in, but again - no privacy.
Sirius gave Hermione's hand a squeeze and said quietly, "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I have a feeling you'd want to know ahead of time – Molly's planned a surprise party for you."
"Oh." Hermione couldn't keep the disappointment and frustration out of her voice. "Well that's… nice of her. Thank you for letting me know," she smiled sheepishly at Sirius.
Despite their cramped audience, Sirius brushed his lips against her temple and murmured, "Just an hour or two, love."
Since she'd awoken, these frequent little gestures of affection had felt like such guilty pleasures - kisses with so much tenderness and love, yet so little history behind them. Hermione felt as though she shouldn't be so comfortable with Sirius, shouldn't thrill so much to his touch, shouldn't really trust him, in fact. And yet, when she looked into his eyes she saw everything there, honest and true – a fierce devotion and love that made her chest feel tight.
She'd had a week with a lot of solitude in which to think about her feelings for Sirius, and his for her. They'd gone from zero to one hundred in a matter of hours – well, less than zero when one accounted for his previously poor treatment of her. Was she weak for still loving him, still wanting him and letting him have her so quickly? If it were a friend of hers who had suffered so much confusion and unrequited love for so long, Hermione was certain her advice would be for the witch to tell Sirius to go bugger himself. But then, she was also certain that if that were the case, she wouldn't be able to see the Sirius who had shown himself to her the night before she'd been captured.
It wasn't just the truth about his relationship with James and Lily, and his broken promise to them. Although, that in itself would have been proof enough of his loyalty. It made Hermione tremble inside when she thought of just how much devotion and love a man must be capable of, to vow never to be intimate with another because he thought he'd hurt James and Lily. Granted, much of his time since then was spent imprisoned by Azkaban or the Order, but she'd been his first in seventeen years, and only because James and Lily themselves had told him to let go, to take this chance. Surely his devotion to them deserved just as much respect as her own virginity had, if not more so?
No, though, it wasn't just that. It was something in his eyes that suddenly lit up the night they'd made love, and she knew the same was reflected in hers. The memory of that night would always make her smile and chuckle, regardless of what happened later down the road. It was decidedly not a perfect start, and yet it was perfect – awkward and humble and honest – she, the virgin with too much book smarts and very little experience, and he, sheepish and actually nervous – nervous! It had, after all, been almost two decades since he'd been with a witch.
At first, she was shocked his initial admission just that he 'thought' he was in love with her. And then again later - he hadn't even completely taken her yet, but had quite effortlessly addled her brain and body with his tongue and fingers - he said it again. Only that time there was no question or 'I think' to it, rather it was just an awe-filled declaration as he held her: 'I love you, you know.' That's when she'd first seen it – he could just as easily spoken the words 'the sky is blue,' but the look in his eyes spoke more love than she'd ever seen in her life. Suddenly her months of angst and unrequited rubbish seemed incredibly juvenile. She realized then that, in a sense, she had 'fancied herself' to be in love with Sirius Black, because this – this was so very, very much more than anything she'd even dreamt of.
Of course it was all rather backwards and sudden, but did she really care? Hermione supposed that focusing on her studies for the next few months in preparation for her final exams at Hogwarts would naturally slow things down a bit between her and Sirius. It was already abundantly clear that life would force them to take a more sensible pace in the rest of their relationship. Then again, there was such a thing as too sensible, she thought grumpily as they stepped out of the lift and headed to the long hallway of fireplaces attached to the floo network.
Placing a hand on Sirius' arm to pause him, she asked, "Do we have to go immediately to the Burrow? I was hoping to get cleaned up a bit first…"
"Of course not, love. I can floo Molly as soon as we get back to Grimmauld Place. I'm sure everyone will understand," he said with an indulgent smile.
~oOo~