Authors Note: I am so glad for everyone who continues to read and write to me about this story. Sorry for the delay in update. As always all reviews and PMs and likes are greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy, Cheers!
As the spring comes and turns into summer Hermione gets more letters, more frequently from Dumbledore. Missives that appeared with owl every other day, she was tired, and her body sore bruised in ways that would not heal. She was poor company despite how she tried to be pleasant, the darkness of her missions had leeched into her everyday life. As days passed she barely had enough time to wash her hands clean before she was sent to another mission.
She though it would get better, easier but each time is horrific worse than the last. She is strong, lean sculpted muscle yet each time she goes into battle she is terrified of losing, not the duel, but herself. Hermione visits snape often, after each mission and he heals what is a mess of broken bones, blood and residual curses. She has gotten more reckless; she was a bomb slowly self-destructing.
Hermione lay on Snapes kitchen table, her arms raised above her as he mended yet another set of broken ribs.
"FUCK" she swore as the broken shards mended themselves back together on the inside of her body.
"language Ms. Granger" Snape reprimanded, but she and him both no he bore no issue with her increasingly foul language.
"Fuck, sir" She amended, and he chuckled at her behavior. They had formed some odd form of friendship and while he had become adept at healing an array of broken bones and flesh wounds she had become proficient at minimizing the after-effects of the cruiciatus curse. They didn't speak, however, about her- Maxima Potter. She rarely brought it up because while he wouldn't give her any useful answers, he would not speak to her for days.
"Just tell me who she is" Hermione asked repairing her plaid shirt that she wore, "Snape, give me something anything" He glared at her taking a step back and she exhaled a frustrated sigh.
"Ask Black if you're so curious, he would know better than any of us" snape all but hissed at her, but she was immune to his foul behavior.
He shoved a package in her arms, "Don't get yourself killed, I've spent too much time mending you to have you cock it up because you have a death wish" Hermione flipped her middle finger in his direction grinning at the exasperated smile he sent in her direction before she apparated away.
Sirius and Remus are waiting for her when she arrives to Grimmauld Place. "Your late and covered in blood" Remus remarks "why is it that you're always covered in blood" Sirius growls dangerously.
"I'm fine" she spoke ruffling Remus' hair who looked at her dejectedly "Happy birthday moony" he rolled her eyes at her use of his marauders' name but doesn't correct her in the slightest. She pulls out a full package of honey dukes chocolate and grins and the preening look Remus gives the package.
"Have I mentioned how lovely you look today" Remus spoke not taking his eyes off the chocolate "absolutely breath taking".
Hermione looks at Sirius grinning "do you reckon he's talking about me or the sweets" Remus rips open the package with a face that can only be described as pure joke. "The sweets definitely the sweets" replies Sirius howling with laughter.
The two leave him alone Hermione curling up on the sofa with her book on bonds and Sirius lying beside her basking in the sunlight.
"Sirius…" Hermione begins unsure of how to approach the topic.
"yes, Hermione" He replies grinning at her formal use of his name. Her heart beats quickly and her head spins with anxiety. She needed answers.
"whoismaximapotter" she asked her voice jumbled. "what?" mumbles Sirius sitting up at what now had turned into a serious conversation.
"who is maxima potter" Hermione hadn't expected an answer, but she did not anticipate such a reaction. He doesn't move at first, and Hermione thinks initially, that he hadn't heard her
"Maxim-" she starts but is interrupted by him "DON'T SAY HER NAME" he shouts, and his face is red with rage. Hermione can feel his anger, pain like it her own pulses through her body. Silence rests heavy in the air between the two.
"where did you hear that name" Sirius asks, and Hermione is unsure how to answer.
"my dreams at first, then snape" Hermione wasn't sure if was possible but Sirius rage boils to the surface, he is shaking and she isn't sure what to do, isn't sure what to say.
"of course, he did, never could Snivelus never could hold is bloody mouth" He says more bitterly than anything else.
He looks at her for a moment, it is as though he is searching for answers in the depth of her eyes. Although both beautiful, Hermione is not Maxima and does not have answers only questions.
"It's not my story to tell" he is quiet, frighten so and Hermione for a moment debates calling Remus but decides against it.
Sirius disappears to the library for a moment and Hermione feels the crushing weight of the moment rest on her. She doesn't think he is going to return so she is surprised when he returns with something wrapped in newspaper.
"it's yours now I guess" Sirius looks at her long and hard and Hermione has to restrain the urge to reaching out to touch him, comfort him. He looks vulnerable, despite his attire that consists of a Gothic Goblins band T-Shirt and Muggle Jeans. He hands her a book, and with a small smile disappear upstairs. Hermione pretends not to hear the sniffles and breaking of glass as he slams his door shut.
The journal is thick with green leather encasing a volume of writing. The handwriting is similar to her but more refined, the letters loop elegantly together than Hermione is entranced before reading the first words.
Hermione Granger, if these words reach you than something has gone awfully wrong. You see, you should not exist after all that I've set out to do, so if you are reading this than it means I have failed and for that I am eternally apologetic. It is my hope that you will learn from my mistakes them, I've documents each in these pages, but you must try again, it is the only hope. In your time they will fail, and perish, returning home is the only hope. Yours Truly, Maxima Potter.