A/N Again and again many many thanks to the Great Roman's sundial for her tremendous editing skills!

Chapter 10: Prompt #7 - Waiting

"I can't tell you when I started to regain consciousness," Sirius began. "It was strange. I had no idea where I was. I remember Bellatrix sending a hex at me and then nothing… I don't even know if I was asleep, if she had stupefied me or if I was in some kind of coma. All I know is that I regained consciousness from time to time before plunging into darkness again. There was neither up nor down. Nothing. I don't even know if I was more than a floating spirit."

Hermione stared intensely at Sirius, almost literally drinking in his words. He didn't know why he was talking to her. She had demanded the truth and suddenly he was unveiling everything to her. Even what he had previously refused to remember. Later, he would surely blame fatigue.

"I don't know how much time I spent drifting in and out of consciousness." Sirius paused, then continued. "Sometimes there was silence, sometimes I heard whispers. They were just strong enough for me to understand that people were talking to me, but too weak for me to understand the words they were saying. And sometimes rustling… And mostly, I felt the cold."

As if she had understood that he was speaking both in present and past, Hermione flicked her wand at the chimney, starting a fire, and turned back to Sirius. "I had no sense of time," he said. "Harry told me about the stone he used, the ghosts he had seen. Lily, James, Remus, and even me… And yet, I don't remember anything."

Sirius stopped speaking. He stared outside, mesmerized by the light from Grimmauld Place streetlights, which were visible through the library's bow window.

Hermione hadn't expected that. She had believed what he had told the Unspeakables when he had claimed to have forgotten everything. And she realised that he had lied, but she wasn't angry at him because she understood why he preferred not to remember, why he preferred to forget that after twelve years of his youth stolen by the Ministry and the Dementors, he had lost so many years of his life in a frozen nothingness where time didn't even seem to exist.

After a long silence during which he had watched the street lights go out one by one and only punctuated by the creaks of the old house and the fire, Sirius spoke again.

"Sometimes, there was smell. Very rarely. But each time the same smell. Like strawberries, and something acidic… And during those moments, I was less cold." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before continuing.

"So I hung on that smell. Every time it came back, I tried to reach out… I don't know. And then, some heat appeared. It was tiny and flicking but it was there, weak but present, more and more often and… And then there was light. I thought… I thought I was going to reach, I don't know, some kind of paradise, or hell… I think I would have preferred anything to this nothingness."

He exhaled a jerky sigh that tore at Hermione's heart. "And instead of finally going somewhere in the afterlife, I found myself on the steps of Grimmauld Place."

Hermione was silent. She couldn't even imagine what Sirius had endured. She had the impression that she was seeing him for the first time, that she had never really looked at him before. She knew that he had suffered more than she could have known, but she could never have imagined how much. To be conscious, even barely, during the years he was trapped behind the Veil must have been torture.

After all, as he had come out exactly as he had fallen, she was only too happy to believe the Unspeakables when they say that for him it was as if he had just blinked. But fate seemed to take a sick pleasure in making Sirius suffer.

Hermione continued to observe him, watching silently as his face appear gradually more clearly as the day rose. She was lost in thoughts, not knowing exactly how to react to what he had just said. If she hugged him, as she had already done the last time he spoke to her, he would certainly take that for pity, and she didn't want that.

She empathized, of course, but she didn't pity him. And deep down, she knew that Sirius had so much to live on, so much happiness to share. All she could do was to help him find the strength to move on from what he had gone through.

She was thinking about what she was going to tell him when Harry's voice startled her. He was already back from the Ministry, and he asked them to join him immediately downstairs.

The moment she entered the living room, Hermione knew something was wrong. She had known Harry for too long to not immediately guess when something was really bothering him. "What's going on Harry?" she asked immediately.

"Scabior and Lestrange are in custody, Hermione, don't worry," he replied kindly. He turned to Sirius, who was staring at him, an obvious question in his eyes.

Harry seemed to weigh his words for a moment and sighed before saying, "I don't know if you know it, Sirius, but the Auror's investigations are systematically controlled by the Department of Mysteries, and…"

Hermione saw Sirius tense. Evidently, the Unspeakables would be only too happy "to examine" again the only person who had managed to escape the Veil, now that Lestrange had told them all that Sirius had confessed under duress. "I'm doing my best to slow them down, but—"

"They mustn't go anywhere near Sirius!" Hermione gasped, glaring at Harry.

"You think I'll let them do it?" Harry protested, ignoring the contrite glance of his friend who immediately regretted that she had been carried away. Rummaging through one of his pockets, he pulled out a compass that was spinning in all directions, obviously out of order. "It's a Portkey. That's all I could do in such a short time. The Seamus has a muggle aunt who has a house on Arrain Mhor Island. You both have to go. They want to examine you too, Hermione." Putting the compass on the table, he added, "Hurry to pack your bags. The portkey leaves in 10 minutes."

Sirius and Hermione stared at Harry, stunned. Thousands of questions ran through their minds, but they knew it was their only option. Even if Harry, Kingsley or those who remained of the Order used all their combined influences, the Unspeakables would get their hands on Sirius and Hermione before their friends could do anything.

Immediately, Hermione rushed to her room, already reviewing in her mind what she was going to take with her. The weather in Ireland wasn't exactly lenient at this time of the year.

In her hurry, she didn't notice Harry's hand resting on Sirius' arm, holding him back for a moment. "I'm going to let Hermione believe that she's running from the Unspeakables." He stared into his godfather's eyes, and added, "But there is something more serious than the Unspeakables."

Harry felt Sirius tense, anticipating what he was going to hear. "You'll have to protect her: Scabior confessed to casting a spell to bind them years ago, when he caught the three of us. She isn't even aware of it. He always knows where she is. He feels it."

The disgust twisted Harry's mouth. "He claims that now that he has found her, she will feel called to him. He's locked up and I'll make sure he stays that way, but I'm not sure that all the Snatchers have been captured… There was so much going on after the war…" Harry sighed visibly. "Protect her. And stop her from joining him if she feels the pull…"

Solemnly, Sirius put his hand on his godson's shoulder and assured him that he would protect Hermione with his life if that was necessary. Then, he raced upstairs to gather some clothing and personal items with an Accio. He came back to the living room a few minutes later, putting his hand on the compass as it started to vibrate. He gave one last look at Harry, aware of the mission he had been entrusted with.