The following Friday was the Parkinsons' annual fête. It began at 7 o'clock p.m., and by 7:30, Hermione and Sirius were getting ready to head out.
"And you're positive your family will be gone?" Hermione asked. For about the tenth time.
Sirius rolled his eyes. She could see his emotions pulling taut at the thought of going back. Of facing his family home. "Yes, Hermione," he said, exasperated. "I'm absolutely certain my god-awful family will be gone. They go every year, all three of them. It's basically a big I'm eviller than you pissing match - and anyone who doesn't go is a blood traitor." His face darkened. "Honestly, I think we should skip the books and just blow them all up. Bam. War's over."
"Excellent plan! I'm in!" James shouted from the kitchen, where he was otherwise moping about having to stay behind.
"Shut up, James," Hermione shouted back. She didn't bother pointing out all the innocent people (and house elves, no doubt) who would die if they blew up the entire Parkinson manor - nor the general likelihood of failure. Her brain was busy buzzing with all the things that could go wrong on their actual mission.
What if someone came home early? What if Kreacher caught them? What if she mishandled a dangerous book? What if Sirius worked out her topic of interest? What if the Blacks had some weird way of knowing who had touched their books and realized what she was looking for and told Voldemort?
And those all operated on the basic assumption that they - a Muggleborn and a disinherited son - could even get into the house in the first place. Which was, she thought, a bit of a long shot.
"Relax, Princess" Sirius said. "This is going to be a piece of cake."
They took the motorcycle, which Hermione never would have agreed to if she'd known it now flew. Apparently the weeks of him and James periodically disappearing had resulted in the damned modifications that allowed it to take to the air.
Hermione clung to her idiot best friend the entire way, trying desperately to focus on his warm smell of leather and cologne, and to appreciate the fact that at least it now ran on magic, rather than petrol - and was thus much more environmentally friendly.
Her eyes didn't open the entire trip, and when they finally touched down a few streets over from Grimmauld, Hermione pried her icy fingers from Sirius' jacket and slid to the ground. She lay flat on the sidewalk, letting its heat and solidity seep into her.
Sirius chuckled. "C'mon, Mya. It's not that bad."
Hermione said nothing and he laughed again before dragging her to her feet.
"Listen, the role of Drama Queen already belongs to James, so you're just going to have to put on your happy face and keep going."
Hermione smiled a grotesque fake smile despite her amusement and elbowed him. "Alright, lead on then."
They walked through the small, well-kept neighbourhood, and around the back of the Black family's residence, stopping beneath Sirius' bedroom window.
"Now what?" Hermione asked, looking up at their 4th floor destination.
Sirius gestured to a nearby tree whose branches scraped against Sirius' window. "This baby was a literal life saver for me when I was a kid," he said, and the bounce in his voice was a lie.
Hermione slipped her hand into his. "You don't have to come in," she said softly.
Sirius scoffed. "And send you in alone to get yourself caught or cursed? I don't think so." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze then let go and started up the tree.
Hermione breathed a silent selfish sigh of relief and followed after him.
When they reached the window, Sirius whispered a quick Alohomora at the window. Nothing happened. He cursed softly and cast a series of diagnostic spells.
"Oh, I see," he muttered, as Hermione waited tensely. "How crude."
He drew his wand across his hand to make a small cut, then smeared his blood across the lock, which immediately clicked open.
"I guess my father upgraded the wards. Only a Black could get in."
"Well, it's a good thing I brought one."
Sirius said nothing. Hermione watched him carefully as they slipped into his old bedroom. Guilt twisted in her gut at the way this entire endeavour was eating away at him.
"Wow. You weren't exaggerating when you said it would be untouched," he said flatly.
There was a layer of dust on everything. The bed was unmade. Crumpled papers littered the floor. It was eerie how it looked exactly the same as it had 20 years in the future. Hermione swallowed thickly as the sorrows of both timelines swept through her.
"Animalis revelio," Hermione whispered. She shook her head. "Nothing in our immediate vicinity."
"What's the radius on that again?" Sirius asked.
"About 40 feet outward. A few feet above and below."
"So we at least know there's nothing on this floor then."
Hermione nodded. "And likely none in the attic. The library is out of range, so we'll just have to go slowly and hope for the best."
"Yes, perhaps Kreacher will be busy fondling my mother's brasiers."
Hermione cringed at the picture. Sirius pulled the invisibility cloak from his pack and draped it over them as Hermione cast a muffling spell at their feet. Together they crept out into the dark hallways and down the stairs.
They reached the landing. Animalis revelio, Hermione cast silently. "Nothing."
They hurried down the hall and onto the next set of stairs only to reel backwards as they nearly crashed headlong into Kreacher. They pressed tight to the wall. Hermione held her breath and her wand with equal fervor as Kreacher shuffled down the hall and through a doorway. Hermione allowed herself to cautiously relax, but her heart was pounding.
"Well, if I'd known this was all it'd take to get you close to me…" Sirius said in the barest of whispers and with the most lascivious of grins.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Shut up, James," she muttered.
Sirius clutched his heart. "You wound me, my lady!"
Hermione held back a laugh and they carried on down the stairs to the second floor, and the Black family library.
Miraculously, they reached the library and snuck inside with zero problems. Piece of cake, Hermione reminded herself.
Hermione warded the hallway to alert her if anyone came their way, and then locked and warded the door against sound and turned to the stacks of books. Their darkness shivered into her skin.
"Welcome to the illustrious Black family library," Sirius said with a flourish. "The Evil Books section starts right about… there!" He gestured to the room at large.
Hermione rolled her eyes and started in. She had no idea where to begin. "Do you know how they're organized?"
Sirius shrugged. "You can take a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. I've never touched a single one of these books."
Hermione sighed.
"The ones over there feel the grossest though," he added.
Hermione forced herself to walk in the direction of the shelves Sirius had gestured toward. Sure enough, she could feel the shift, the darkness emanating from them. The entire shelf was shrouded in shadows that, upon closer inspection, Hermione realized were not remotely natural. The books oozed darkness; the air felt slimy and it pressed against her uncomfortably, heavily.
She took a deep breath and began.
The hours passed in an uneasy silence as Hermione cautiously perused a variety of books with titles that were all a vague and verbose variation of "Evil Stuff."
"Anything yet?" Sirius asked with a yawn. For the millionth time.
Hermione huffed in irritation. With him or her lack of progress, she couldn't say. She was already feeling the effects of the darkness in the books. They twisted into her. She felt drained. Irritable. Her occlumency helped a little, and Albus had given her special gloves at the last Order meeting which helped a little too. But still it crept in.
She forced herself to place her current book gently on the shelf. "Nothing," she ground out. "This was such a stupid—" She froze.
"Mya?" Sirius voice called back, laced with worry.
"I think I found what I was looking for," she whispered. She cast a furious series of revealing charms, but the book was entirely unprotected. She carefully slid it off the shelf. On the Soul: A Moste Arcane Journey Through the Tortuous Mysteries of the Human Soul. Hermione caught herself holding her breath as she opened the book, flipping gingerly through its pages.
"This is it," she breathed.
"Thank, Merlin. Finally!"
"Geminio!" The book duplicated in her hand. She quickly cast a stasis charm on the duplicated copy. She wasn't sure how long the flimsy duplicate could hold itself together with so much dark and destructive magic inside it. She followed that up with a third spell that would disguise it as Moste Precious Secrets of the Darkest Magicks - forbidding, but not revealing.
She shoved it into her back and the original back on the shelf. "Let's get out of here," she said.
There was a bounce of triumph in her step that only increased as she left the evil shadows around the books. She was nearly to Sirius when an annoying buzzing sound alerted her to a presence in the corridor. She froze, her eyes wide.
And the door swung silently open.
"New Girl?"
Hermione cursed silently even as she felt her fear drain - most of the way - away.
"Hello, little brother," Sirius said darkly.
Regulus' gaze flicked back and forth between them.
Hermione took a cautious step forward. "Hey, Reg."
The Slytherin boy's face was perfectly clear of emotion. "What are you doing here?"
"Stealing books," she said smoothly, her voice and tone equally neutral.
Regulus' lips quirked in an almost-smirk, but she could tell that his brain was still rushing. Hers was too. What if he felt he had to tell Voldemort about her visit? What if Voldemort plucked it out of his mind? What if he felt like he couldn't let them go? What if Voldemort figured everything out?
She slipped the disguised duplicate out of her bag and flashed him the innocuous title. "It's just a duplicate," she promised. "The real one is still here."
Sirius scoffed. "He can't do anything anyway, Mya. Let's get the hell out of here." He started for the door.
"That's a really dangerous book you have there, New Girl," Regulus said seriously.
You don't know the half of it, Hermione thought grimly. "I know."
"Remember what happened last time?" His eyes were dark. He was worried for her, she realized. "Is this really worth—"
"Last time?" Sirius interrupted, his gaze locked on Hermione. "What is he talking about?"
"I— We don't have time for this, Sirius. I promise, we can talk about it as soon as we get home." She could practically feel the anger rolling of him, but he seemed to let it go. For now. She turned back to Regulus. "It's worth it," she said seriously. "I'll be careful."
He stared at her for a long moment then nodded. "You should go then," he said. "I have a party to get back to anyway." He grabbed a book from a nearby shelf, then pushed past them into the hallway. "Come on then."
Sirius clenched his jaw, but said nothing as they followed Regulus through the house and onto the front stoop.
"Be safe," Hermione said firmly, doing her best to tell him with her gaze that this meant sharing their encounter with Voldemort if it would protect him.
"You too, New Girl. Brother." And then he vanished back to his party with a pop.
Their walk back to the motorcycle was silent. For about two minutes.
"What was he talking about?"
Hermione wished they'd apparated. "Last year, when I was spending so much time in the Restricted Section - being spied on by the Marauders. It was… I spent a lot of time pouring through dark books."
Some of the tension eased from Sirius' shoulders. "I remember you being sort of weird for a while there," he admitted.
"I was being stupid," Hermione said. "Not taking any precautions. Spending way too much time with them. And, I guess, I was so preoccupied that I didn't really even notice how it was beginning to affect me. It wasn't as bad as he made it sound. I had classes and things. I wasn't drowning in darkness. But he noticed, and gave me a bit of a talking to."
Sirius was silent.
"This book is a lot darker than that. Darker even than the book he thought I was sneaking off with," Hermione confided. "But I will be more careful this time. And I have the special gloves from Albus - those will help a little."
They reached the motorcycle, pulled on their helmets, and climbed on, still without Sirius saying anything. "Are you angry?" she asked, finally.
Sirius, seated in front of her, gave himself a little shake and released a surprised bark of laughter. "No, Mya. Of course not. I just… I'm just thinking. Being home was hard. But my brother… You just, you have so much faith in him. I wish I did. I wish I could let myself believe in him too."
Hermione leaned forward and hugged him from behind. "He'll show you," she said softly. "It's okay to feel however you're feeling right now. Just… let yourself be open to it when he proves himself, okay?"
Sirius hugged her arms in response, then revved up the motorcycle and they were off.