I feel like there's a couple of things I should apologize for in advance. First and foremost, for those of you who are keeping up with this story, I apologize for the wait. I never stop thinking about it, but life has a way of getting in my way all the time. Just know I'll never truly abandon this story.
Secondly, I'm sorry. I'm just sorry. Know this hurts me more than it hurts you and once you're done you'll understand.
As always, I hope you enjoy what you're reading. Feel free to tell me if you love it, if you hate it, or if you just hate me in general. I'll take it all xo
19 September, 1995
"I can't– I– She–" Hermione was hyperventilating, clutching at throat desperately.
"Hermio–"
Her knees buckled suddenly, her hands hitting the dirt moments before her face could, and her throat burned as bile escaped her lips and she vomited. She began to cough, choke, and squeeze her eyes shut, tears running down her face.
They killed Harry.
They captured Ron.
They captured Ginny.
She sucked in a deep breath only to have her stomach convulse, her body tremble, and she continued to vomit until all that was left were pathetic dry heaves. Sirius was crouched behind her, pulling her hair back from her face as she lost control of herself, but she couldn't feel his touch.
She couldn't feel anything except the shaking of her limbs that would not stop.
"I can't," She cried, tipping her head back and forth. "I can't do this anymore. I can't."
"You can," Sirius whispered, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Mustering her strength, Hermione whipped around to face him, her pupils anger-blown, "THEY – ARE – CAPTURING – EVERYONE! They took Ginny, right in front of us."
Sirius fell back onto his heels, but Hermione continued to channel her emotions into pure rage, and she began to scream louder, "AND WHAT DID WE DO? What did we do, Sirius? NOTHING! THERE'S NOTHING WE CAN DO! THEY CAPTURED GINNY AND WE COULDN'T EVEN FIGHT BACK!"
She fell to her knees once more, her anger slowly evaporating. She hugged her arms around her waist, dropped her head, and began to rock herself, "There's nothing we can do. They've got Ginny. They're rounding us up, one by one. There's nothing we can do."
"There's nothing we can do," She whispered again.
24 September, 1995
Sirius never hovered. He gave Hermione the space he knew she wanted, save for the few times he would force her to eat, but he let her grieve in the way she desired; alone. In all other ways, Sirius had pushed Hermione to her breaking point, but he was smart; he knew when she had had enough and when she needed to be left alone. And for nearly a week, he had done just that.
Her body was exhausted. She couldn't recall sleeping, but the seconds blurred together so much she could hardly recall being awake either. It was as if losing Ginny was the catalyst that drove her over the edge of insanity; past a point she'd ever dreamed she would reach, beyond a breaking point she fathomed existed.
And on the fifth day, after she had exhausted her tears and the havoc of emotions had left her hollow, Hermione finally departed her room and forced herself to shower. She wanted to wash away the image of Ginny's face as the Death Eater pulled her away, soak away her feelings of helplessness, and drown out the memories of everyone she loved that was suddenly gone.
She dressed in stale clothes and didn't bother combing or drying her hair, and avoided looking at her reflection at all cost. She descended down the stairs quietly and found Sirius in the kitchen reading an old, battered copy of The Daily Prophet. His eyes flashed to her, startled.
"I thought I'd lost you," He finally whispered after looking at her for a hard moment.
"Whe–" She started, then cleared her throat and attempted to speak, for the first time in days, once more. "Where else would I go?"
Sirius carefully placed the newspaper on the table, his eyes never leaving her face, "You're here, but you're not here."
She forced her to feet to move, avoiding his gaze, and sat across from him at the table, "I'm here now."
"Are you?" He leaned across the table, assessing her closely, "Hermione, what you've gone through–"
"I'd prefer if we didn't talk about it," She said, closing her eyes as her fingers curled her hands into fists.
"Of course," Sirius whispered. "I just want you to know, Hermione, that whatever happens. . . You are important. Your life is important and it has value. If you let them steal your self worth, all of your happiness, everything about you that makes you – you. . . They're winning without even trying."
She took a deep breath and Sirius continued, "They can take a lot of things from us, Hermione. Don't let them take your light, too."
29 September, 1995
Sirius had moved them three times within four days. Hermione sensed something had him on edge more than usual. After losing Ginny, something had shifted; they both felt it. Losing her was a reminder of their reality; something they hadn't been forced to face for quite some time. It reminded them of dark witches and wizards whose sole conquest was their captivity, that any moment could be their last.
Hermione guessed Sirius' change ran slightly deeper. Deep down, something that neither of them would ever say aloud, they both felt as if their time running was coming to a close. . . That Death Eaters were growing smarter, getting closer, and Hermione's days were numbered.
She knew he believed it in that he began to move them from safe house to safe house quicker. He stopped giving her as much alone time, insisting on being in the room with her unless she was sleeping; even so, she once found him leaned against her bedroom door, fast asleep, in the middle of the night.
He never spoke a word of this to her, though. Rather he continued to remind her of her worth and convinced her to continue with their occlumency and potions lessons. The days would be spent with the two of them walking the edge of the safe house boundaries while Hermione foraged supplies, followed by, in Hermione's opinion, a disastrous potions lessons, and only ending with the two of them in front of the fire after hours of occlumency training.
Though Hermione never asked, she often wondered if Sirius ever felt as if their lessons were as pointless as she did.
3 October, 1995
It had been fourteen days since they lost Ginny; fourteen days since they had contact with any other person. The past week of solitude had only increased Hermione's anxiety. Life seemed too calm; too quiet.
Outside of their safe house, night had fallen. Hermione had retreated to bed after an exhausting occlumency lesson with Sirius that had left her feeling drained and empty, but after an hour or so of tossing in bed, she finally gave up on sleep.
She found Sirius sitting in front of the fire, his back leaned against the couch and feet stretched out in front of the heat, ankles crossed. She tiptoed quietly across the room, tucking herself into the couch directly behind him and curling her legs beneath her.
He turned his head to her slightly, "I thought you were asleep."
"Couldn't," She replied, now picking at her fingernails anxiously.
He nodded and turned his face back to the fire in front of them, pulling a small teacup to his lips. Hermione shifted slightly and eased forward.
"Sirius, tell me about what life was like before Voldemort. . . What Hogwarts was like," She requested softly.
His head tipped slightly to the left as if he were confused by her question, "Before Voldemort? He was there in my day, too, Hermione."
"I know," She said, taking in a breath. "I mean. . . before Harry – He was always there for us, even in our first year he was alive and dangerous."
Sirius nodded and then there was a brief pause before he spoke, "The pureblood idealists have existed for years. I should know that very well, I was born into it." He turned completely to give her a serious look for a moment. "I never bought into it myself, of course. I'd never sat and thought about it, but I suppose my generation did have quite a bit different experience than yours. We were just kids, you know. Back then, in the beginning, it didn't seem as real as it must have for you. . . Of course, purebloods have always held their entitlement."
His face soured and he shook his head, shifting until he relaxed comfortably and his shoulder brushed Hermione's knees, "It was easy when we were kids. It seemed much more innocent, at first. Sure, people were prejudiced, but not like they are today. It was a slow buildup, so slow I barely noticed it happening until students were receiving the Dark Mark, and even then we weren't capable of understanding just what that meant."
He paused to take a drink and Hermione wondered if he was thinking of James and Lily.
"It was the best time of my life, though. I never had family growing up, not really. James and Remus, and even Peter – that filthy fucking waste of breath – well, they were the only family I ever had."
"Like Harry and Ron," Hermione whispered softly.
She saw the outline of Sirius' face shift slightly as his lips pulled into a small smile, "Just like Harry and Ron." Sirius laughed quietly and shook his head. "Merlin, I don't know how the four of us were never expelled. It must have been a miracle because we caused hell every day."
"One time," Sirius nearly snorted, shoulders shaking as he began to laugh. "One time, we used James' cloak to sneak into the Slytherin's dorm and bewitched all of their robes to turn into muggle swimsuits, Gryffindor colors of course, once they got wet. Remus made the Great Hall rain during breakfast the next day. Oh, you should've seen it."
Hermione's eyebrows lifted and a smile spread across her face. It reminded her so much of Fred and George and their annoying antics, and it felt like home.
"It was a better time," Sirius finally said, exhaling slowly.
10 October, 1995
The more days that passed without a trickle of news, without running into familiar faces, only served to add to Hermione's stress. She never asked Sirius his opinion of why things were so quiet; she feared his answer. Deep down, she felt as if she knew the truth but hearing it said out loud would finalize her fears.
The truth, she feared, was that more of her friends had been captured than she realized. She felt as though, by now, they should have crossed paths with someone; Tonks, Arthur, possibly Kingsley again. . .
But for days on end, it was only her and Sirius with no word from the outside world, no whisper of Dumbledore or their friends. . . no idea if their friends were even alive.
Hermione knew Sirius still grieved for Remus. She supposed that not knowing whether or not his best friend was alive, adding to it losing his godson, was a large part of the reason he seemed so hell-bent on protecting her.
She supposed he felt like a failure – he blamed himself for James and Lily, Harry, and somehow Remus too. Perhaps he felt like he couldn't save anyone in his life.
And he seemed desperate to change that.
12 October, 1995
Hermione wiped the sweat from her flushed face, brushed tendrils of damp hair from her forehead, and rested her head against the back of the chair.
"I think that's enough for today. I can't begin to tell you how incredibly you're doing," Sirius said as he dropped his wand onto the table and began to pour her a glass of water.
Her mouth felt thick and sticky, and she accepted the water eagerly. After a moment, she took a deep breath and wiped her lips.
"Is it enough, though?" She asked honestly.
Sirius watched her for a moment, "It's better than nothing, Hermione. It's always better than nothing."
Both of them knew there was no amount of preparation that could keep Voldemort from inside of her head. Sure, she could try to evade him, rotate him around sensitive memories or possibly show him lies disguised as truths, but the chances were astronomically slim. . . However, Sirius was right – it was better than nothing.
She placed her glass on the table and leaned forward, waiting until Sirius met her gaze, "I need you to know how grateful I am for everything that you've done for me."
Sirius waved his hand, "Hermione, don't thank m–"
"No," She interrupted, giving him a stern then soft look. "I mean it, Sirius. Without you, I wouldn't be alive right now. You have saved my life countless times, nearly got yourself killed for me. . . I need you to know how much that means to me."
Sirius pulled a chair from the table and sat next to her, pulling her small hand into his, "We protect family, Hermione. Always. You are as much family to me as Harry was, and you never have to thank me."
She looked at their hands. His fingers were rough and calloused – he had the hands of a man who had lived through war and bore the scars all the way down to his fingertips. She felt a sudden sadness for him and tightened her fingers around his.
"I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate what you've sacrificed for me when you never had to. I never would've made it this far without you," She said softly.
"Now, give yourself some credit, kitten," He said, attempting to lighten the mood. "You're wicked smart. You would've figured out a way to survive without me."
Though she knew he truly believed that, she couldn't quite convince herself of it.
16 October, 1995
"You have to be joking!"
"Swear it on Merlin!"
Hermione's face lit into a wide smile and she began to laugh, "There's no way you convinced James and Remus to wear women's knickers for a week!"
Sirius placed a hand over his heart and feigned offense, "I, one of the best tricksters Hogwarts has ever seen, not be able to convince two of my mates to wear ladies knickers? Damn, it's like you don't know me at all! Alas, you see, they lost the bet! They had to!"
She laughed again and shook her head, "That's insanity!"
"Oh, no," Sirius scowled playfully. "Insanity was when I lost a bet once and James made me wear my hair curled with a Slytherin ribbon for three days. That was insanity!"
Hermione cheeks began to burn from smiling, "You think that's worse than wearing women's knickers?!"
Sirius mouth dropped open, "A SLYTHERIN BOW! Hell yeah, that's worse!"
"Boys!" Hermione chuckled, shaking her head.
The two of them continued to laugh for a moment, and Hermione noticed, clearly on Sirius' face, when he shifted from happiness to sadness. To others, it might have seemed too subtle to see, but Hermione had spent months alone with Sirius and was now able to tell a complete shift in his emotions just by the turn of lips or the pull of his eyebrows.
"Why don't I fix some us some dinner and you can shower," Sirius suggested, already rising from his spot on the couch.
She narrowed her eyes, "Is this your not-so-subtle way of telling me I smell bad?"
Sirius laughed again but this time it didn't quite reach his eyes, "No, Hermione. You smell just fine."
Hermione felt heat creep into her cheeks and she quickly stood and turned away from him. She paused at the last second, just before he entered the kitchen, and a grin swept her face, "You're not going to burn it again, are you?"
"Well," He chuckled, shrugging. "My name isn't Sirius Black for nothing."
Hermione found a shower to finally be quite relaxing. Her mind didn't drift to thoughts of ghosts of friends, – instead she imagined James, Remus, and Sirius as young kids, but her age, causing their share of mischief at Hogwarts. She couldn't help but picture a young Sirius with curly hair tied up in a green and silver ribbon, red faced and scowling as he entered The Great Hall. It kept her spirits high as she shut off the water and dressed in light blue pajamas. She plucked her wand from the counter, opened the bathroom door, and was pleased to notice there was no smell of burning food throughout the house.
"You know," She called out as she made her way towards the kitchen. "I bet we could make another Slytherin ribbon, should you ever want to wea–"
Her voice choked in her throat.
Adrenaline fired through her veins, and for a brief moment, her heart stopped. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, frozen in place, unable to move or even breathe. Sirius was on his knees, eyes bulging as if he were choking, his arms firmly secured behind his back. And behind him, with her fingers twisted into his hair pulling his head back and the tip of her wand pressed firmly against his temple, stood the triumphant face of Bellatrix Lestrange.
A body flashed in front of her quickly before she could even take a step backwards, and Lucius Malfoy sneered down at her so closely that his breath touched her face, "My, my, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for this moment, Mrs. Granger."
She heard Sirius begin to growl and fight against his restraints until a howl escaped his throat and Bellatrix began to laugh, her voice echoing through the kitchen, "Nowhere to run now, is there? What? Sorry, didn't quite catch what you said."
He whined in pain and Bellatrix laughed again. All coherent thoughts seemed to vanish from Hermione's mind at the sound of Sirius in pain, and without thinking, she took a step away from Lucius and immediately raised her wand.
"STUP–"
His fist connected with her face before the words could leave her lips. She felt her body hit the floor before she felt the pain of his blow. With her wand cast aside and her vision blurry, she tried to push herself from the floor and her world tilted. Lucius grabbed the front of her shirt and hauled her to feet, slamming her against the wall high enough that the tips of her toes hardly brushed the floor. Hot, sticky blood ran down her chin and for a moment, she saw double.
"You – filthy – mudblood," He spat in her face. "You dare use magic against me?"
"Please," She choked, spraying hints of blood from her lips as she spoke. "I'll go with you, let Sirius live."
She heard Sirius begin to struggle once more and Bellatrix fired a curse that made him scream. Hermione's insides twisted and her heart begin to race. A cold sweat broke on her skin and for a moment she thought she would be sick.
"I'll go – I'll go without a fight," She cried.
Lucius' face spread into a smile but his eyes were laced with hatred, "You think you have a choice, girl? You think you are in any position to barter for someone's life? Shall I show you how little power you have?"
Hermione winced as Lucius hands loosened and her feet hit the floor. Immediately, his hands twisted in her hair, fingernails digging into her scalp, and she cried out as he thrust her to her knees but a few feet in front of Sirius.
"Bellatrix," Lucius said in almost a bored tone.
The dark witch's face twisted and she released her hold on Sirius. He gasped for air and for a moment, attempted to climb to his feet. He swayed, falling back into the kitchen table and barely pulling himself upright. His limbs shook with each movement but he managed to stay on his feet.
It was then, Hermione noticed, that he did not have his wand.
"Hermione, I'm so sorry," He choked, eyes on Bellatrix.
Bellatrix raised her wand, kept it pointed at Sirius' face, but her eyes danced in Hermione's direction as she savored the moment, "Isn't this precious? Itty bitty Sirius has grown to care for the mudblood."
"Bellatrix," Lucius warned, tightening his grip on Hermione's scalp until she whimpered.
"This is insanity!" He shouted at Bellatrix, attempting to reason. "Don't do this, Bella. Do better, you can still come ba–"
"CRUCIO!"
Sirius crumpled to the floor once more, a shriek of agony echoed in the air. His body twisted, his back bowed, and his muscles ran tight as pain lanced his body. Lucius roughly pulled Hermione to her feet by hair hair and his breath was hot against her ear, "Do you see how little power you have?"
Hermione winced, her vision blurred by fiery tears, and she shook her head, "Please – Please – STOP!"
Bellatrix froze, the curse ended, and she narrowed her eyes dangerously at Hermione, "YOU DARE GIVE US ORDERS?"
Sirius body was drenched in sweat and his breath was coming in sharp gasps, "Hermio–"
"CRUCIO!" Bellatrix screamed at him again.
"PLEASE!" Hermione shouted, her throat raw, as Sirius began to twist and cry out once more.
"You want me to make it stop?" Lucius whispered in her ear, tightening his grip in her hair until she winced in pain. "I can make her stop. You can put him out of his misery. Look at him, girl. Look at him!"
Hermione shook her head. Sirius' screams wrecked her ears and she finally forced her eyes open to look at him. He was pale, his face contorted in agony the likes of which she had never seen before. She began to cry, her knees weak, and finally a sob ripped from her throat.
"Please, stop! Don't hurt him anymore!"
"The mudblood wishes for you to stop," Lucius said to Bellatrix calmly.
Bellatrix lowered her wand, sneering at Hermione. Sirius body went limp, his eyes half closed, and she could hardly see the rise and fall of his chest.
"No more, please," She begged in a hoarse whisper.
"No more?" Lucius asked. "You want it to end?"
"I want you to stop hurting him," She cried.
A silence hung among them for a moment before Bellatrix crouched beside Sirius body and ran her wand down his face, "You've always been a disgrace to our family – an embarrassment."
His eyes opened slightly and he looked up at her, "Bella. . ."
"Oh, dear cousin," She hissed, her smile returning. "The next one is for your mother."
She stood, pointed her wand below at Sirius, and he tilted his face until his grey eyes met Hermione's.
Her screams mixed with Bellatrix's in a painful chorus.
"NO!"
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Sharp green blurred her vision and she saw the life leave Sirius' eyes moments before her world went black.
