Harry drove for several hours, and it was one of the most harrowing experiences of his life. He knew the basics of how driving a car worked, but he had only done so up and down a street, not racing down open roads with other cars on it. He also had next to no knowledge of traffic laws, and in the backseat, Sirius was battling for his life. Lastly, his tool of navigation was a compass needle pointing in a straight line towards his destination, forcing Harry to drive on all sorts of roads trying to follow the compass. More than once, Harry scraped against other cars; at one point, he took down a few fence posts, liberating a herd of sheep, and when he brought the car to a halt, a smell of burning tyres permeated the area.
The compass had brought him to a nice house in a nice neighbourhood; a married couple lived inside along with their daughter, who by Harry's count should just have returned for summer holidays. Harry had been there before, spending last year's summer and Christmas there. Getting Sirius out of the car, he supported his godfather up the driveway – Harry had not dared attempt to fit the car onto that and instead parked halfway up the pavement outside the house. Ringing the bell, Harry hoped the compass had not led him astray, hoped that she was not somehow still at Hogwarts.
The door opened, and Harry was greeted by a slightly freckled face. A wave of expressions flooded Hermione as she saw Harry, then Harry supporting Sirius, and then Sirius looking like he was on death's door. She quickly opened up to let them inside. "Harry," she exclaimed in that defeated voice which was the best sound he had heard in ages, "what have you done?"
"Broken every traffic law in the book," Harry muttered, helping Sirius to lie down on a couch. "He needs your help, urgently. There was a fight, I don't know what they hit him with, and I can't dispel it."
"Wait," Sirius coughed. "She's underage. If she does any magic, the Ministry will know. They will come."
Harry bit his lip. "We have to risk that. You're in a really bad shape, Sirius."
"It will be okay, Sirius," Hermione said soothingly.
"No need," Sirius coughed again. "Your pin, Harry. It suppresses Divination magic and similar."
Harry looked down on his coat at the small Gryffindor pin. He realised how much magic he had been using in the forest, including throwing a death spell at someone. Of course he was being tracked, how could he have been so stupid as to overlook that? If it had not been for Moody's gift, he would have been captured long ago. Another cough from Sirius reminded Harry that now was not the time for self-chastisement, however. Quickly removing the pin, Harry put it on Hermione's shirt.
"My wand," she then exclaimed, turning around to run out of the living room.
Harry sat down on the edge of the couch, brushing Sirius' hair out of his face. There was little blood to see, but his breathing was becoming more and more laboured, and his skin tone already resembled that of a dead man. "Hermione, hurry!" Harry yelled.
She was back in a moment, wand out and already moving. A number of spells and incantations flowed from Hermione's lips, none of which Harry could recognise. Healing magic was advanced and among the very last topics taught at Hogwarts; never before had he been so happy about Hermione's predilection for studying ahead of her classes.
Harry stood impatiently watching, but he was forced to realise that healing of this art did not happen quickly. First, Hermione had to figure out what was wrong with Sirius and then how to counter it. He had to swallow the questions on his tongue, the urge grab Hermione by the shoulders, plead with her to save Sirius' life. He knew she was working on it, that he would only interfere, but it was near impossible to stand idle by.
The sound of a car driving up and coming to a halt reached him. Harry spun around with his wand out, only realising afterwards that hostile wizards or witches probably would not arrive by car. The front door was opened, and the sound of chatter reached them. Stowing his wand, Harry moved towards the door of the living room.
He came a moment too late; Mr. and Mrs. Granger appeared, their eyes widening in shock as they took in the spectacle. Harry standing close by, looking dishevelled, their daughter waving a wand around, and a strange man looking pale as death lying on their couch.
"We shouldn't disturb her," Harry spoke quietly to the stunned couple. "Let's talk in the kitchen." Mr. Granger came to his senses first, and placing his hands on his wife's shoulders, he guided her to the kitchen. Harry followed behind. "I'm really sorry, but I didn't know where else to go."
"Who's that man, Harry?" Mr. Granger asked, his voice calmer than you might have expected. Mrs. Granger was still standing, seemingly catatonic.
"He's my godfather. My only family," Harry added, swallowing. "We got attacked. I don't know what Hermione's told you…"
"Not much. She said you were famous among your people," Mr. Granger explained. "And that it gave you enemies. I thought she meant school kids pranking you, not trying to kill you."
"There's a man dying on our couch," Mrs. Granger managed to stutter.
"Dear, why don't you make us some tea," Mr. Granger suggested in a soothing voice, leading her towards the kitchen table. Her hands began the familiar routine, allowing her a small distraction and her mind some time to digest it all.
"Things are bad in – our world," Harry explained. He had never spoken to a Muggle before about all of this, he was not sure what to say. But he had met the Grangers at Gringotts, they were not strangers to the wizarding world. "It's a civil war, you could say. Between people like me and my godfather on one side, and really bad people on the other side. The worst you can imagine."
"Well, I know you to be a sensible lad," Mr. Granger replied, "I'm inclined to trust you. But what will happen now? We should take that man, your godfather, to the hospital."
Harry shook his head. "He can't be cured by them. It's not that kind of wound."
Mr. Granger sank down onto a seat by the kitchen table. "I don't know how to handle this. This world that my daughter's a part of. I don't know how I can protect her," he said, looking up at Harry.
Before further words could be exchanged, Hermione entered the kitchen. "He's asleep now, and his breathing is better. But I don't think I can be sure he'll be okay. I've slowed it, but I don't know if I stopped it." She removed the pin from her shirt and placed it back on Harry. "Just in case anybody attempts to track you." From the other side of the kitchen, Mr. Granger watched the exchange with a confused expression. "Sirius needs better help than what I can give him," Hermione finally said.
"There's nobody else," Harry muttered. "We take him to St. Mungo, it's the same as letting him die."
"Maybe there is," Hermione frowned. "Cedric is really good with healing magic, much better than me. And he's of age, there's no restriction on him."
"How do we get to him?" Harry asked.
"I know his address," Hermione explained. "We exchange letters. Plus it's right near where Ron lives. Remember? When we went to see the Quidditch World Cup."
"Right," Harry nodded. "Should be able to find our way, at least with a good map."
"That's something I can help with, at least," Mr. Granger inserted and left to find a map. Meanwhile, Mrs. Granger placed several cups of tea on the kitchen table, and then she picked one up, drinking the tea while staring ahead.
"Will be your parents be okay?" Harry asked, glancing at Hermione's mother.
"Let's focus on Sirius right now," Hermione said, running her hand over her forehead. "Can you drive us to Cedric without crashing the car?"
"Got this far," Harry shrugged. Mr. Granger returned with a map, which he gave to his daughter.
"You think this Cedric fellow can help your godfather?" he asked concerned.
"It's our best bet," Harry replied. "We have to try. We should probably go straight away."
"I'll go see to Sirius. I don't like it, but we have to wake him up if we want to go," Hermione said and left the kitchen.
"Harry," Mr. Granger said. "It's obvious I don't understand what's going on, really. And there's not much I can do. But I can't just stand here and do nothing. How about I drive you to this Cedric?"
"I don't know if that would work," Harry admitted. "It's an old part of the country, populated by – people like us. It may have measures to keep – people like you from getting there."
"Well, I feel helpless," Mr. Granger muttered. Then he opened his wallet and took out all the pound notes he had. "At least take this. I can't just send you off with nothing."
As Harry accepted the cash, Hermione came back. "Sirius needs to talk to us. You too, mom, dad," she added.
Somewhat surprised, Harry followed Hermione into the living room; Mr. Granger, exhibiting uncertainty himself, took his wife by the hand, and they followed their daughter as well.
"My apologies for meeting you this way," Sirius said in a strained voice. He was sitting upright, and his eyes did not have that fevered shine to them any longer, but he was still exceedingly pale with an unhealthy look to him.
"Well, you're Harry's family, that's good enough for us," Mr. Granger said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"I'm glad to hear it," Sirius coughed. "Your daughter, and my compliments by the way for having such a brilliant child, has most likely saved my life." Hermione blushed a little, and Harry felt a little more reassured; if nothing else, Sirius sounded like himself with his usual charm. "Unfortunately, it may have placed us in danger. All of us," he specified.
"How so?" Harry asked.
"If anybody has been trying to track Harry, and I think they would after the failed attack, then removing the pin –" Sirius was interrupted by a coughing fit that sounded like his lungs were being raked over.
"Removing the pin meant that Harry was unprotected," Hermione continued his line of thinking. "They might know we are here."
Sirius nodded. "We should be underway, but so should your parents," he told her. "Do you have anywhere to go that will be safe?" he asked Mr. and Mrs. Granger.
"The holiday apartment," Mr. Granger replied with a frown. "If southern France is considered safe?" he asked.
"That should do," Harry muttered.
"But what about you?" Mrs. Granger asked, finally speaking. "We can't leave without you, surely," she said directed at her daughter.
"I'll join you afterwards," Hermione promised. "Just need to see Sirius to a friend that can help him, then I'll meet you there."
Mr. Granger stared at his daughter for a moment, who in turn looked away. "Come dear, we should pack," Mr. Granger eventually told his wife in a gentle voice, and they left to do so.
"I'll do the same, just the necessities," Hermione said. "Harry, get Sirius to the car. I'll be there in a minute."
As Hermione left for her room, Harry helped Sirius to stand and supported him out the door. He got his godfather into the car, lying on the backseat. Then he stood restlessly, glancing at the front door to the Grangers' house.
"Harry," Sirius spoke faintly, prompting the boy to spin around and almost throw himself across the front seat.
"What?"
"It'll be okay," Sirius smiled weakly. "I'm not going to die right this instant."
"I know," Harry said, feeling a little chastised. "Just, I don't think I really knew how dangerous this was. And you're my only family, Sirius," he added, his voice growing faint.
"In that case, I'll be sure to hang on," Sirius spoke with another smile. "I'm not leaving you, Harry, promise. We got lots of years left together, you and I."
"Alright then," Harry replied, trying not to think about Remus and Dumbledore.
Hermione emerged from the house with a bag. She placed it in the trunk, and Harry grabbed his own bag from the passenger seat and laid it next to Hermione's. She took out the map that her father gave to her and sat down in the passenger seat.
"Ready to go?" Harry asked as he dug out the keys.
"Yeah, I said goodbye to them," Hermione spoke. Her voice was a little odd, and looking at her, she had a stiff expression on her face. Harry realised all of this was a lot harder on Hermione than she let on, but now was not the time to bring that up. They had to go. Turning the key in the ignition, Harry put the car in reverse, and they drove off.
