Author's Note: A reminder that this story is AU. Hermione is not the bookworm wuss that chooses Ron over all the other hot guys in the book. She is a soldier and the only survivor of the Order. This changes her personality a bit, yeah?
It's been a long damn time since a fresh chapter. All six other chapters have been cleaned up and re-edited, which they desperately needed. They kind of sucked a bit, and confused a lot of things. I recommend going back and reading through them again, if you've been following this at all, since they make more sense now.
I'm without a Beta, what can I say?
Usually, Sirius Black strutted casually through the halls of school with the smuggest of smiles. That night, however, his grey eyes burned with a dark fire as he stomped through the enormous castle. His strong shoulders were tense and his back was as straight as an arrow, ready to pierce someone's heart, and it was a daunting sight to see. Hogwarts' favorite playboy looked armed and dangerous, like he belonged back on the ol' Black family tree.
Hermione made her way back to the Gryffindor dormitory as best she could, gripping her cramping side with one hand and pushing at her throbbing temple with the other. Her wavy hair had fallen completely out of its customary bun and tumbled around her shoulder blades in a tangle. She sniffled a bit as she made her way to the portrait of the Fat Lady, walking the long way around the floor and taking her time. It was a full thirty minutes before she crawled into the gold and crimson common room, which was empty.
The feast must have begun already. Thank God.
Her cheap, soft-soled shoes dully echoed as she trudged up the steps to her room. Hermione threw a few belongings into a small steam trunk at the foot of her four poster. It wasn't much- a few useful books and pieces of parchment paper, a handful of robes, some basic toiletries, and a single Sickle that rolled loosely along the bottom. The rest she left neatly stacked on the top of her sheets, since none of it really belonged to her. It didn't take long.
Aside from the dim light of a gas lantern, the room was quiet and covered in shadows. Hermione took a deep breath and dipped her quill in ink before settling it over a small sheet of clean parchment. The handwriting was awkward and cramped, and the words came out slow as she tried to force her left hand to move smoothly. When she was finished, Hermione stuffed the letter hastily into an envelope she marked 'Dumbledore' and settled it on her pillow.
James waited until he heard the muffled thud of the portrait closing shut. The tall and thin quidditch player slipped his wand out of his pocket, hopped down the steps of the boys' dormitory and casually sauntered towards the girls' staircase.
"Godiva chocolate," he sighed, tapping one of the banisters with his wand three times. The stone steps shuddered for a second and let out a loud groan, but they remained steadfast as charged his way up and slipped inside the room that both Hermione and Lily shared. It was painfully obvious which bed belonged to 'Hermes'. He blinked a few times, registering the meticulously laid out books and folded clothes, and the empty space where a trunk should have been. A sigh escaped his lips again and he ran a hand through his shock of black hair. This did not look good, if their suspicions were right in any measure.
The seeker started to lazily flip through the pages of the books with one hand, finding not even the slightest of ink splotches on their pages. There were no hidden items wrapped up in her clothes, no carvings of the Dark Mark on her furniture, no spells or traps waiting for some poor soul to discover them.
"A Death Eater wouldn't leave these things behind," James muttered and shook his head. "She's got traces of herself all over these- hair, fingerprints, scent. Hell, I could track her down. It's got to be something else."
From just outside the common room came the subdued sound of someone's voice and the shrill reply of the Fat Lady. James reached out to snatch the letter lying on the bed, hesitated for a second, and then crammed it into his pocket. His lanky legs took the steps four at a time before launching him into the nearest chair. Behind him, the staircase shuddered and groaned again, returning to normal.
Sirius slipped inside, radiating frustration and fury. His best friend quirked an eyebrow at him.
"What's got your knickers in a wad?"
"Is she here?"
"She packed her things and left, Padfoot. I doubt we'll see her again. You should rela- Oh come on! Get back here, you bastard!"
The portrait clicked shut. James rolled his eyes, but made no motion to go after Sirius.
The beaten steam trunk levitated a few feet behind her as she shuffled towards the grand front entrance of Hogwarts. It dipped downwards and lifted upwards sporadically, hardly able to keep balance as her mind drifted in a thousand different directions. Her bleary eyes stared at the intricate carvings of snakes, lions, badgers and ravens that covered the enormous wooden doors, looking but not really seeing.
Someone was approaching her, scurrying down the steps and stomping closer, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet atrium. Before Hermione could take three steps towards the door a hand wrapped mercilessly around her arm and turned her around. The floating trunk dropped to the ground with an incredible crash, spewing her papers and things in every which way.
"You and I need to talk," Sirius hissed. She sucked in a sharp breath of surprise, her eyes widening and then narrowing to a scorching glare. He matched her look with as much distaste as possible.
You bastard. You selfish, egotistical, no-good bastard. Do you know what kinds of hell we went through? DO YOU? What Harry went through? What I went through for Harry? And Remus… DAMN YOU, Sirius Black. Damn you for going off and getting yourself killed like a moron.
He jerked her forward, practically dragging her towards the dungeons. Hermione struggled and cried out for help, but there was no one around to hear her. Her mind played over the thousand simple spells and tricks she knew to get away, wishing desperately that she could use them since she wasn't strong enough to slip out of his grasp. It was a silly thing to wish- it would be disastrous to harm anyone from the past, especially him.
Adrenaline pumped through her system and overwhelmed her weak heart as they neared the entrance to the potions classroom. It was dark, silent, and secluded down there- anything could happen.
"What do you know about Remus Lupin?" he asked, pushing her forcefully against the cold, slimy stone of the dungeon wall.
"That he wouldn't want you doing this." Her lips, too pale to be considered pink, were curled up in distaste. Sirius paused for a moment, considering her comment.
"You've been messing with his head, toying with his emotions, playing on his fears… And you're doing it for a reason. What else are you planning? What is it you know about him?"
Hermione titled her chin up in defiance. His fingers dug harder into her arm, sending waves of pain through her body. She took a deep breath and bit down on her tongue- there was no way she was going to give him that satisfaction.
"I don't go easy on Shit Eaters," he growled.
"You think I'm in league with You-Know-Who? You're out of your Goddamn mind. They don't much like Mudbloods like me."
"…you're a liar."
"And you," she hissed back, "are nothing but an oversexed, arrogant bully who doesn't give a damn about anybody but yourself! You selfish, horrible-"
"I'm doing this for Remus!" he roared. His handsome exterior was shaken, his confidence slipping. Hermione swallowed hard and prepared to push farther. He needed to be caught completely off guard- his sharp eyes kept glancing towards her hands, making sure she had no wand to defend herself with.
"Ha! Some friend you are! Remus wouldn't want you to raise hell in his name. But no, you can't stand that you don't have any control over this situation. For the first time in his life, something is bothering him and it has nothing to do with you." Sirius looked at her in amazement.
"That's it, isn't it?" She continued, trying to hold on to the rush of energy the adrenaline gave her. It was wearing off. "Since you can't get him to listen to you, you have to come after me. Does it feel good to beat up on a crippled girl? Since your charms aren't hypnotizing me you have to turn to the only thing you know- violence."
"I'm not trying to hurt you," he whispered earnestly. The fire in his eyes was dying out, replaced with shame. "But I absolutely need to know what you know about Remus."
"Well, I'm not going to tell you. And there's no way you can pull it out of me. In a fair fight, Black, you wouldn't last long against me."
His anger returned, fingers digging even harder into her soft skin. The pain was almost blinding, and Hermione had to blink away spots from her vision.
"What would you do to me? Use some of that dark magic that got you into the Department of Mysteries? What kinds of terrible things are you planning to do to me, or Remus?"
"Who are you to accuse me of using dark magic?" she laughed weakly, trying pathetically to look calm and in control. "There's more darkness in your heart than I could ever manage to gather in myself." Sirius twitched, uncomfortable. This was getting personal.
"Those years of abuse nearly swallowed your heart up, didn't they? Years of training in the dark arts with the people who were supposed to love you and care for you. There's a monster inside you, isn't there? Do your friends know all the terrible things you've done?"
His hand slammed against the wall only inches from her head. Hermione jumped, but she did not cower. Years of research and countless hours of Remus' company had laid bare the past, the details only now stirring in her damaged mind. He'd told her things that he refused to tell Harry, too afraid to reveal the flaws of his father, godfather and their closest friends. It was his way of seeking forgiveness- she was his personal confessional. As long as Hermione had told him everything was okay, he kept talking, and he could keep letting go of the past.
Which was now her present.
"You're changing the subject. I see you know plenty about me, but what do you know about Lupin?"
"They don' t know, do they?" Her voice came out in a raw whisper. "You used to watch muggles being tortured and practice spells on poor, innocent animals. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Do you miss your mummy and daddy patting you on the head and telling you what a good, filthy Pureblood you are?"
"SHUT UP!" Sirius' hand, strong and large, wrapped around her throat in the blink of an eye. There was barely any pressure there, but it was enough for her to choke on her words. Stars exploded over her vision, yet Hermione managed a cold, wry grin.
"Am I the poor, innocent animal now? You think Remus wants you to beat me into submission just to protect his secret? I'd rather die than hurt him like that, but I suppose you wouldn't understand love and loyalty like that. Jesus, Sirius, you really are a Black at heart."
He turned his head away for a second, shutting his eyes in defeat. Hermione didn't have but a moment- his suffocating grip seemed to only tighten with her every word. Her fingers slipped down and touched her wand, readjusting it in her pocket so that it faced his chest squarely. With any luck, the shot would miss his heart.
Sirius looked back at her with the curious eyes of a dog, brow furrowed in contemplation. Was this the mind game of a Death Eater? He gazed over her brown irises like he was looking for answers there, needing to know who she was and how she could possibly know the dark, painful secrets of his childhood. Hermione took a deep breath.
"Protego!" she murmured. His lips moved like lightning the moment her mouth opened, breathing words that were suddenly drowned out by her own cry of pain.
It's only natural that Sirius would have the advantage in the situation. She was weak, flushing cold and hot, struggling to talk and breath normally. He was furious, empowered by his confusion and anger, and the lightning reflexes he had learned as a child were still fresh. Hermione had only seen him fight when he was a middle-aged and out of practice man.
Her spell bounced off his shield as if she'd done no more than spit at him. It hadn't been a powerful incantation, since she hadn't wanted to really hurt him, but it was enough to knock the legs out from under her when it reflected right back at her. Suddenly, Sirius' grip on her neck was the only thing holding her upwards. He let go instantly and helped her gently to the floor, his eyes wide and full of guilt. Shaking fingers tentatively touched her neck and felt Hermione's weak and erratic pulse.
"Jesus Christ, I shouldn't have deflected that, not in such close proximity. I knew better. I knew better…and I didn't care."
His arms scooped her up and cradled her closely as he charged out of the dungeons like a madman.
Her head lolled and her arms flopped like a ragdoll's with every jarring step Sirius took. The hallways were still clear, but it wouldn't be long now before the feast ended. He ran as quickly as he could, taking steps two at a time and rounding corners as tightly as a racing hound.
"…'m sorry. So sorry." she muttered. He readjusted his grip on her to bring her mouth closer to his ear, which was like readjusting the weight of a feather. "Sur-Sirius…"
"Don't talk," he commanded, forcing the panic from his voice. "I'll fix this, don't worry."
"I wasn't strong enough to p-protect…"
"Protect who?" he asked soothingly. They were so close, and her being conscious was a blessing.
"Remus."
"He's perfectly fine, Hermes. Nothing's happened to him."
"…and you…" The hospital wing was in sight now, its doors closed shut for the night.
"…Harry…"
"I'm hurrying, Hermes, I really am."
"No," she protested. "Harry." Sirius kicked his foot against the door, knocking caked dirt from his boots as he did.
"Open up!" his deep voice roared. "Pomfrey!"
Hermione choked and gasped for air again, and he looked down in horror to see a crimson streak slide from the corner of her mouth. The skin beneath his fingers was icy cold and devoid of color.
"Sirius," she breathed. "Listen."
"POMFREY! GODDAMNIT, OPEN THIS DOOR!"
"I'm sorry I couldn't save you. But you wouldn't listen, you wouldn't stay put…" The plain doors of the infirmary flew open with a sharp jerk. Pomfrey appeared with a snarl on her young face, her nightgown covered hastily by a half-open robe.
"What do- oh, blood and bones! Get her in! Quickly!"
The tiny witch in his arms wheezed throatily, more blood from her mouth spilling outwards. Sirius laid her out on the nearest bed and jumped back out of the healer's way. There was blood on his hands and robe now, he noticed bleakly.
"What happened?" she ordered as her hands gathered a number of thickly bottled potions.
"Don't ask me any questions, old witch. Not until she's safe."
"Get the headmaster. We may be too late…"
The doors slammed shut suddenly, and Sirius was gone.
The dying light of sunset cast glowing shadows on the scarred and weary face of a young man. His body slumped low in his chair, legs stretched out and resting on the edge of the occupied hospital bed. His eyes, an almost golden hazel, were cold and hard. It was a look that didn't belong on his sweet face.
Someone appeared in the open doorway of the infirmary and knocked softly on its frame. The ragged werewolf stood; his joints and spine popped loudly from lack of movement. Sirius slipped past him and took his place in the stiff chair, watching his good friend walk away without even glancing at him.
"Here, don't move. I'll get it."
Hermione rubbed the sleep from her eyes and leaned against her propped pillows. Someone handed her a glass of water and she took it gratefully.
"How do you feel?"
"Like hell," she rasped, grinning a bit. It always felt good to cheat death. "What are you doing here?"
"Professor Dumbledore ordered me to keep an eye on you…and I wanted to be sure you were alright. You really had me scared." Remus' voice was warm and comforting, just as she always remembered. It was good to hear.
"Scared?" After what I did to you?
"I found your steam trunk by the entrance. It's all here now," he assured her, his foot kicking against something solid beneath her bed. "Care to tell me what happened?"
"…where's Black?"
"Getting some sleep." He sounded a little annoyed at the mention of his friend.
"Did he say anything?"
"Not a word. He said you could explain it when you woke up, if you ever woke up."
"I see. I guess…I guess it's a bit fuzzy. I don't remember much."
"We already know someone attacked you, Hermes. Don't be afraid to tell me who."
"How could you possibly-" He nodded towards the black and green bruises on her arm and around her neck. Hermione touched them and flinched slightly at the soreness.
"I don't remember who. I just remember Sirius carrying me to the wing."
"He carried you here?" Remus asked incredulously. "I thought, maybe…"
"That he had attacked me?" she offered. He shrugged.
"Your blood was all over him, but he refused to say why."
"Oh." Hermione settled more comfortably against her pillows, wishing she had a toothbrush or even a comb to tame the tangles of her long hair. The Gryffindor Prefect stood as if to leave her in peace, but hesitated.
"Could you answer me something, Hermes? Just to set my mind at ease."
"Anything." She sighed. It was too late to push him away now. She and Dumbledore would have to worry about wiping memories and fixing the past later.
"How did you know? About…about me, that is. I know you know, I can feel it." She didn't even have to wonder what he was talking about. It wouldn't hurt to tell him the truth, not when I'll take it from him later.
"I knew a werewolf once," she began softly, watching for Remus' reaction. He let out a sharp exhale of breath. "The best man I ever knew. He was my mentor, my friend, and my source of strength when I needed him most. And I…I miss him." Hermione looked uneasily at him, unsure whether to continue.
"Please, continue. Please."
"He was stronger than I gave him credit for," she continued sadly. "We went through so much loss together. But he always knew how to comfort me, and he always had my back in a fight. You know," she laughed, "I'll never forget the nights of the full moon. Just looking at the sky brings back good memories. He'd be in so much pain, even with the potions, but he'd still want to talk with me. If I was there, he said, he could feel more human."
Tears sparkled in her brown eyes, slipping unbidden down her face; the first time in a long, long time she had allowed herself to cry. Remus felt a pang of jealousy as he watched her lips form the words that were her most personal moments. Whoever this werewolf was, she cared for him. She wasn't afraid of him. There was trust, and friendship, and no fear. Whoever this werewolf was, he was so damn lucky.
"Where is he?" Remus dared to ask, emboldened by her story.
"…that man is no more." It was a strange way to say it, but Hermione didn't know how else to put it.
"I'm so sorry." Lupin said, his eyes downcast. But she reached for his rough hand and squeezed it gently with her freshly bandaged one. Pomfrey had been kind enough to keep it wrapped up and away from prying eyes.
"Don't be," she said. "It isn't your fault. It never was to begin with."
"Get some sleep, Miss Graingier. I don't want another scare like this," he said as he settled her hand back down at her side. There was a smile on his face as he turned to walk away.
Her eyes fluttered shut before he could even leave them room.
They say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.
-Andy Warhol
Author's Note: Hermione is now tied up with the Marauders, but there's still hope to save the past from changing. Can Sirius make up for what he's done? Will Hermione finally overcome her ill health? Find out next in 'Dog Day Afternoon'!
