Chapter Seven


November 10th, 1981
The Burrow - Weasley Residence

Hermione wondered, and not for the first time in her life, if there wasn't something a little wrong with her. She wasn't certain what she should have felt when the tiny Crookshanks pounced on the rat, claws extended and jaws clamped around its neck, dragging it obediently back to her, but it wasn't justice. She thought of Harry, dying in her arms in the exploded remains of the Potter Cottage. She thought of Sirius in Azkaban, of Remus alone for twenty years, Lily's screams—because Hermione knew what they sounded like now, pleading for Harry's life—and she thought of James. James Potter who was in a hospital, healing from an injury caused by this rat, mourning his dead wife and worrying over his nearly orphaned son, and grieving a lifelong friendship that Peter Pettigrew had thrown in his face.

Hermione felt a strange sickening joy inside of her when she watched Peter Pettigrew transform back into his human form to escape Crookshanks's tightening jaw. Fudge had screamed a list of obscenities that had Bill and Charlie wide-eyed with admiration. Dumbledore put Peter immediately in a Body Bind and offered an apologetic glance to Arthur as Percy cried into his robes.

Before leaving the Burrow—Crookshanks staying behind to keep watch for the Weasley family, much to Charlie's delight—Hermione had apologised and asked after the entire Weasley family, promising to pass along the offer of friendship to James.

"I've a boy the same age," Arthur told her.

She smiled, said, "Maybe they'll be good friends," and did her best not to cry as she handed over the perfectly normal rat to Percy, who cuddled it to his chest after giving it a thorough look over, checking for human traits.

"I have to alert the Minister!" Fudge shouted. "And the Head of the . . . Oh, Bartemius Crouch . . . you absolute dunderhead! Imprisoning an innocent man, and . . . Sirius Black! Gods, if he hadn't been disowned by his family, the Ministry would have been . . . we could have been ruined, the lot of us!" He paced back and forth along the outskirts of the Burrow, waiting as Dumbledore levitated Peter's petrified body toward them.

Remus hadn't said a word since Peter showed his face but Hermione could tell he had a few reserved.

"As it so happens," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I have a Portkey to Azkaban. Had one made, just in case. If you'd like us to take care of Mister Pettigrew's delivery, you may go and take care of the paperwork and the press, Cornelius. I believe a warrant needs to also be put out for the young Mister Crouch."

"Too right!" Fudge nodded. "And erm . . . you certain you don't want credit for this?" he asked curiously.

Hermione nodded her head immediately. "We're certain," she said. "Anonymous sources, that's all we are."

Fudge Disapparated and Hermione took Remus's hand, placing it on the Portkey in Dumbledore's fingers, an old door knocker.


Azkaban Prison

When they arrived outside of the old prison in the North Sea, Hermione conjured her Patronus on instinct to keep the dementors at bay. Dumbledore left Peter in Remus's care—something Hermione thought was a bit vengeful for the old wizard—while he went to summon an Auror, and Hermione stepped back to allow the old friends a moment alone.

She knew that Remus had released the Petrification Charm because she could see Peter's body shaking with terror as he sobbed a plethora of apologies that were nearly word for word what Hermione recalled hearing in the Shrieking Shack during her third year.

"Please, Remus . . . Sirius tried to kill me . . . what could I have done? The Dark Lord . . . you

have no idea . . . he has weapons you can't imagine."

Remus looked perfectly calm and reserved as he spoke, whispering in Peter's ear.

She remembered seeing Professor Lupin in the Shrieking Shack next to a dishevelled Sirius Black and a pleading Peter Pettigrew. It wasn't hard to recall how calm and collected Remus had been when he informed Peter, "You should have realised if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would." Werewolf or not, Hermione realised that Remus Lupin could be just as scary as a raving mad Sirius Black.

She didn't know what Remus was saying to Peter now, but Pettigrew had urinated, soaking his trousers, and cried hysterically right up to the point that the Aurors showed up and pulled him forcefully out of Remus's grip—fingers biting into the fading Dark Mark—ignoring the way he screamed as they dragged him through the doors.

"You've both done very well," Dumbledore said with a smile as he rejoined Hermione and a panting Remus. "I have things I need to take care of. Restoring Sirius's good name will take a bit of effort, but I refuse to sit back and let . . . and let another life be ruined by inaction," he said and Hermione noticed that his eyes were not twinkling. "There's a bit of paperwork, but I've been informed that Sirius will be released into your care as soon as possible. Miss Granger, I hope that you would be willing to meet with me sometime in the coming week to discuss saving many more lives."

"You can count on it, sir," she said. "I'm staying to make sure Sirius is all right."

"And Harry?" Remus asked.

Dumbledore smiled. "Mister Potter's Healer at St. Mungo's informed me that he'll be ready to go home very soon, so long as someone is there to take care of him."

"Sirius and I will," Remus said without a thought.

"As I suspected. I will see if Hagrid would be willing to pick young Harry up from his aunt and uncle's home. Perhaps the Longbottoms would like to visit with the boy until other arrangements can be made," Dumbledore suggested and Remus only nodded his head in agreement.


Remus and Hermione sat outside of Azkaban for hours. Until the sun set and the stars shone bright in the sky and a chill came over them, forcing the pair to huddle together up against the wall for warmth. They waited and waited and Hermione laughed as she watched as her otter Patronus swam in circles around the spectral wolf in front of them, who tried to give chase but was outran every time.

"It's really very good," Remus commented, watching her Patronus outlasted his by minutes each time. "Did you learn it at Hogwarts?"

She shook her head. "Harry taught me," she said with a bright smile. "It was his best spell. One of his favourites too. You taught him."

Remus's eyes widened. "I taught him?"

She nodded. "Maybe you'll teach him again."

Another hour passed and the calm that the werewolf had demonstrated earlier in the day had all but vanished. He paced and growled and occasionally conjured things to throw at the doors of the prison. "How long can it take to release an innocent man!?" he screamed and then let out a heavy sigh. "I'm . . . I'm so sorry, Hermione. I just . . ."

"It's fine," she told him. "He's your best friend, I understand. You've every right to be upset. I'd do worse if it were my best friend. Perhaps even accidentally time-travel," she said with a soft laugh that almost felt like a cry.

Remus smiled sadly at her. "Anything else?"

She thought for a moment and then chuckled. "Well, I once kept a reporter from the Daily Prophet in a jar for a few weeks because she was spreading lies about Harry," she said with a smirk. "She was an unregistered Animagus; a beetle."

Remus laughed. "Do you have a problem with unregistered Animagi?" he asked with a raised brow.

She shook her head. "Just the ones who get on my bad side."

Remus smiled and then looked back at the prison, smile fading instantly. "I haven't even seen him in over a year," he quietly admitted. "We were both on separate missions for the Order, and communication wasn't great. I tried writing letters but one got intercepted once, not by anyone important but . . . we stopped writing after that. It was too dangerous. Sirius and I fought the last time we saw one another."

"What about?" she asked, her eyes drawn to the sky overhead instead of the guilt-ridden werewolf in front of her. She quickly found Sirius, the star, and tried to focus on positive thoughts toward the man, hoping that a few days in Azkaban hadn't turned him into the mad creature she'd met when she was fourteen.

"The safety of . . . of James and Lily and Harry," Remus said sadly. "Sirius didn't trust Dumbledore completely the same way that James and I do . . . did. They'd been talking about a Fidelius Charm but only in passing, and Sirius wanted to place blood wards around the property like his family used to have, but the spells aren't entirely . . . approved of."

"They're dark?"

Remus winced. "The kind that the Black family has? More grey really," he said. "Sirius wouldn't use Dark magic anywhere near Harry, if at all. But he was desperate and trying to suggest anything to keep them safe and I . . . well I just went along with anything Dumbledore said and Sirius accused me of just being a puppet and I accused him of being a drunk and—"

She stood up and rushed toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight hug that he clearly wasn't ready for as he tensed immediately. "He'll be fine," she assured him and waited for him to relax. When he did, she slowly let him go and smiled up at him. "I . . . last time he was in there for twelve years. I was there when the two of you were reunited. I was terrified at the time because I thought he was evil and you were in league with him but, looking back now, it was . . ." she smiled, "it was a beautiful moment. Like no time had passed at all. Whatever had happened between the two of you, he had forgiven you."

Remus was drained. Physically exhausted and beaten and ragged. His normally green eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep and crying and he looked on the verge of tears once again. "He survived twelve years?"

She nodded. "He was . . . he survived twelve years in Azkaban, yes."

He had more questions, but they died on his tongue when the doors finally opened and a dishevelled Sirius Black fell through, alone, unescorted, carrying nothing but dirty robes and a wand in hand.

Remus stepped quickly toward his friend. "Sirus . . . oh my gods."

Sirius fell into Remus's arms and clung to him tightly, sobbing. "Moony, I'm so sorry . . . I never meant—"

"It's fine. It's done with."

Hermione stood, watching for a moment until it felt like prying and only then did she look away. When she did, she gazed into the watery depths of the surrounding sea, wishing she could be reunited with Harry and Ron. But both were long gone from here, at least as she knew them.

"Prongs?" Sirius whispered.

"Still at St. Mungo's. Harry's with Petunia and her husband, but he's fine for now. Dumbledore sent Hagrid to bring him to Frank and Alice's. He can stay with them until we figure out something," Remus said. "The cottage is still in ruins and I doubt James will want to go back there anytime soon."

"They'll stay with me for now," Sirius said. "You as well. Unless the Ministry took my home too."

Remus shook his head. "They went through your stuff, but the place is intact as far as I know."

Sirius nodded and then swallowed hard. "And umm . . . Lily?"

Remus frowned. "She's in Godric's Hollow," he said softly. "Dumbledore insisted that it be done as quickly as possible. She's become quite famous and everyone knows it was her that destroyed Voldemort. The Order was worried that if people knew she hadn't been buried yet that the few Death Eater loyalists that evaded arrest would umm . . . would—"

"That's fine," Sirius said, cutting Remus off, and wiping the backs of his hands across his eyes. "I . . . I understand. Maybe it's better that . . . that Harry and James didn't see her like that." He blinked away a few stray tears before looking back at his friend. "I never saw Reg buried, and I'm the picture of perfect mental health," he tried to joke but couldn't bring himself to laugh. "What about Peter?"

Remus growled. "Captured. Thanks to Hermione," he said and gestured to the witch in question.

Hermione looked up and smiled nervously at Sirius.

He smiled back. "You got my note."

She huffed, holding up the hand that had the small pawprint tattooed on it. "Yes, thank you," she said and slowly approached Sirius, reaching into her beaded bag and withdrawing a bar of chocolate. "Eat this," she said, handing it over to him. "I'm glad you're okay, Sirius."

He grinned and devoured the bar of chocolate in two bites, tossed the wrapper away and then dove forward, pulling Hermione into his arms and spinning her around. "I owe you, little witch. I owe you so much!" he said around a mouthful of chocolate.

She squeaked as he squeezed her, fighting a bit of breath. "Sirius? You can let go now."

He stopped spinning but nuzzled his head against her hair. "No. It's been too long since I've touched a woman."

Her eyes widened and she shoved at him. "Get off!"

Sirius laughed joyfully, breathing the free air, and Remus shook his head. "I don't think she's used to your particular sense of humour, Pads."

Sirius smiled and bowed low to the ground. "Apologies, dearest lady," he said before rising once more. "All right, what's first on the list? Food or sleep?"

Remus raised a brow. "How hungry are you?"

Sirius shrugged, slipping his robes over his shoulder, shivering against the chill. "Mouldy bread and rotten apples are strangely filling," he said bitterly.