AN: heyy - im so sorry there hasn't been an update in a hot minute. i've had some stuff going on in real life and just haven't been able to focus on writing/editing/fandom in general so just a warning that updates may be a little more sporatic for the next little while. i never wanted to do this - i was hoping to stick to a schedule bc i know that its my preferred way to read wips but unfortunately life has chosen otherwise.
anyway = enough complaining from me. but if you do want more of an idea when they'll be updates come follow me on twitter Ms976_ - i'll post about when im going to update there.
September 1978
Hermione woke slowly. Regaining feeling in her limbs one by one until she was aware of a dull throbbing pain radiating through her chest. Pain that reminded her what had happened.
The tender, broken feeling of her torso reminding her of spells flashing around Diagon Alley and the panic as she realised she risked losing one of Harry's parents again.
How she'd made a split-second decision, and even as she winced and ached upon waking, it wasn't one she regretted.
Opening her eyes slowly, she had to blink back the bright light surrounding her. Blurry surroundings focusing into a hospital room as she finally made out a concerned voice next to her.
"Kitten?"
Shifting drowsily in its direction, she laid eyes on Sirius. He looked more dishevelled than she'd seen him in a long time. His hair dirty and unbrushed, dark bruises under his usually grey eyes. Even those were darkened by the red veins running through them.
His whole person looked exhausted but more beautiful than she'd ever seen him because he was alive. His clothing torn and still covered in dust from the attack, but none of it mattered in the light of him being alive and uninjured at her bedside.
She could feel his hand warm where it was wrapped around her own and swallowed to relieve the dryness of her throat, whispering, "Sirius."
Watching him take a breath before replying softly, "Hey — how are you feeling?"
She didn't know how to answer. She knew a bit about how she was — it wasn't the first time she'd been hit by Dolohov's purple flames, and the pain was the same as last time, but truthfully, she wasn't sure.
Her body fragile; it felt like one hit could shatter every bone. There was a pressure on her chest that had nothing to do with her physical symptoms. An overwhelmed sensation that almost made her want to cry, but for all of that, she was more concerned about the others.
"James, Lily?" The words were quiet and tinted with worry, but she felt that anxiety ease with Sirius's slight smile.
"They're fine. They stayed until I was allowed in with you and went home this morning."
Nodding silently, she was relieved they were okay. Listening thankfully as he confirmed, "Everyone else is okay too. It was just — it was just you," he stumbled as he spoke. Like the words hurt him, and she tried to squeeze his hand in reassurance and apology for getting herself in this position. Knowing Sirius would rather he be the one in the hospital bed.
He tried to lighten the situation, though. Continuing, "Well, technically, Moody's in too. The bastards got his eye, but he's mainly mad they're forcing him onto leave while he heals, so I expect meetings are about to get extra fun."
As much as his words were meant to lighten things, they seemed to remind him of something else, though. A dark expression crossing his face that she'd seen glimpses of before but could only recall from one fateful night in the shrieking shack.
Rage clenching his jaw and flashing through his eyes. His hands tightening where they were holding her own, he let out a deliberate breath — as if trying to calm himself — before continuing, "Remus—" tone attempting to be soothing.
Just the name and Hermione could guess what was coming, but Sirius continued, "We wanted to send word through Dumbledore, but he—" he swallowed down fury, "he said he couldn't send on the message. That Remus's work was too important."
She was sure Sirius would have argued against it. James too, for all he never questioned the Headmaster's word. But Dumbledore had his hooks in them deeply and she knew they wouldn't go again him yet.
It could be the first step in getting there, though. So she pushed down the anger that Hermione wanted to let overwhelm her. Force her out of her bed and into Dumbledore's office to tell him all the things he was doing wrong. But she refused to let this opportunity for James and Sirius to foster their own distrust of Dumbledore.
Instead, letting the sting of abandonment show on her face. Hermione knew Remus never truly felt like he had a choice but to go, but he still went. Left her with only their father. A father that had abandoned her as quickly as Remus had.
And for all she understood their reasons why — it hurt. Left her with the man who'd stayed by her bedside but few others. She appreciated Sirius, though. Wanted to reassure him it was okay. She was happy with just him, even if it was only him.
Replying, "It's okay. Remus wouldn't have been allowed in here anyway. He'd probably be going crazy trapped outside."
Sirius squeezed her hands in reassurance again. Letting the fury drain out of him at the reality of her brother's situation — nodding in agreement.
Hermione continuing, "He'll come back to us eventually. Now just isn't the time."
He just stared at her for a moment. As if trying to reassure himself, Remus's absence wasn't going to worsen her condition. That she really would be okay without her twin there to heal her when she'd always been there to heal Remus's hurts.
Whatever he saw in her expression, though, must have worked because he nodded in assent. Reaching for his hand and tapping a small emblem on the side next to her.
Explaining, "The Healers have to come and check on you now you're awake."
"Okay," she agreed. Watching navy robed Healers enter the room and explain they wanted to speak with her alone to run a few tests. Nodding slightly when Sirius looked again as if checking she was okay with him leaving. Giving him a small smile when he dropped a kiss to her hairline, claiming he was going to find some supper.
Sirius gone; she turned her attention back to the Healer.
"You were incredibly lucky, Miss Lupin—" she wasn't. She knew exactly what she was doing when she'd pushed Lily out of the way. The first time may have been luck, but the second was calculated risk. But she couldn't explain that to the Healer and instead looked to them for an explanation.
"It was a dark curse that hit you. One that creates a sort of internal burning in the victim—" she nodded. Again, more things she already knew. Information that had been given to her last time by a gentle-faced Madam Pomphrey. "—but we contained it and have managed to undo most of the damage. You'll have to stay here for a few days yet, though. Your rib cage was partially melted, and we won't release you until it's fully healed."
The matter-of-fact way the Healer spoke, while perhaps not as gentle as some patients would like, Hermione found reassuring. It was the same injury she'd had last time. Meaning she'd no doubt be stuck with a litany of stabilising and strengthening positions — each more disgusting than the last — but she'd survive.
She'd come out of a spell meant to kill its victim no worse for wear, so she nodded without complaint and watched their expression soften slightly before continuing.
"We do need to change your dressings, though."
Suddenly, Hermione was very grateful they'd sent Sirius away. Not because he'd never seen her without a shirt, but because there was something strangely vulnerable about not knowing what she looked like under the bandages wrapped around her torso.
About not knowing what damage had been inflicted on her body because she hadn't forgotten that they'd only been able to undo most of it, so she nodded in agreement.
"Good — I'll get one of the junior healers to come in and do it before your fiancée gets back."
Her brain froze. Stuck on that word — fiancée — something she definitely did not have. The term so unexpected, she didn't even realise the Healer had left and was stunned for a second time as another Healer appeared through the doors.
Dressed in green Healer's robes, Hermione was thankful the colour was so startlingly different to her sister's usual black as with the way her body ached, she wasn't sure she could face any more similarities.
Instead, the colour just reminded her of a constantly changing head of hair, as she breathed out a surprised, "Andromeda." Previous confusion over men she may be engaged to vanishing at the more present surprise.
"Hermione," she offered with a sad smile. Wringing her hands together as Andromeda asked, "Are you okay with me doing this?" Gesturing towards the pile of bandages and potions that had come floating in after her, Hermione realised Andromeda was her Healer.
Thinking over it, she supposed she didn't know her particularly well. And Andromeda probably saw a lot worse than whatever was hiding beneath her dressings, so nodded her assent. Sure, it would be an awkward experience no matter who assisted her.
Helping pull Hermione to sit up, it immediately exhausted her. Body somehow aching more having been forced upwards, sure she was too delicate for such motions. Andromeda winced in sympathy as Hermione muffled a groan, "We'll get them changed quickly so you can lie back down."
Nodding in pain, she agreed. Watching dispassionately as Andromeda unravelled her and letting out a soft "Oh" at the scar now bisecting her breasts.
It has missed them mostly. Trailing from above her left breast, down between the two and across her rib cage. It wasn't pretty. A deep purple she knew would barely fade; it made her already protruding ribs look worse somehow, but the most notable thing about it was that her ritual scar was gone.
Buried under new scar tissue, there was no sign it had ever been there, and for all she hated the new scar, Hermione felt strangely relieved as well. The only physical piece of evidence of her return, of her illegal activity, destroyed.
Because she knew her occlumency was good enough to keep people from accessing memories they shouldn't. So by some strange turn of events, jumping in front of that curse may have actually helped her were anyone to ever wonder about her knowledge.
Andromeda made a pitying sound at her exhalation. Clearly mistaking her reaction more embarrassed. Not that Hermione could blame her. She remembered being sixteen and watching a similar scar unveil itself while she blushed at bearing herself to Madam Pomphrey.
But she'd faced having Fleur Delacour peel urine and bile-soaked clothing off her body since then, and while the new scar wasn't pretty, she wasn't embarrassed by it either.
"He won't care about it," Andromeda reassured as she finished rewrapping her bandages, and Hermione made a confused sound as she helped her lay back down.
"Sirius — he won't care about the scar," she explained. "He's been in a panic the whole time you've been here, bless him, so I promise a little thing like that won't be enough to scare him off."
Her words were meant to be a comfort, but Hermione was stuck on the reminder of Sirius Black and what the other Healer had called him earlier. Glancing at her hands to find an unexpected weight on her ring finger. One she'd somehow missed during all the unravelling of bandages. Brain too caught up on old memories and new scars to note the rock on her left hand.
She was still staring at it as Sirius re-entered the room. Returning to his seat and asking a concerned, "Mini," when her attention remained focused on her hands.
"Sirius — why am I wearing Lily's engagement ring?"
He coloured at the words. His cheeks flushing a brilliant pink that Hermione didn't think she'd ever seen on him before for all his years of pranks and general mischief. Raising an eyebrow and enjoying watching him flounder to distract from the pain in her chest that still hadn't entirely subsided.
"I— we—" he stuttered, "Lily told them we're engaged, so they'd let me in here."
He said it in a rush — expression more panicked than Hermione was comfortable with. Enjoying teasing him but never wanting him to be truly uncomfortable. It made sense. She knew they'd only let family in, and it wasn't as if she had any available, as much as it pained her to admit it.
Casting a quick glance at her bracelet to ensure it was still there, she looked back up to Sirius, who was still watching her with wide eyes. His fingers twitching where they were resting on his knees.
Giving him a reassuring smile, Hermione reached for his hands because she knew he may not like what she was about to say.
Pulling him in close, she spoke softly, "It's okay — you did the right thing." He nodded but clearly knew she was going to say more. "We'll keep it up while we're here —" he nodded again as she squeezed his hands to try and lessen the sting of her next words, "—but I'm not ready to get married yet."
She wasn't sure what she was expecting. Perhaps some dramatic response, as was his norm, but instead, he just nodded in understanding. Pulling her hands back towards him to press his lips just above where Lily's ring was still placed.
"One day," he promised. Eyes locked on hers, an intensity in them she couldn't recall seeing before that felt like he was staring into her soul. "One day, I'll put my own ring on this finger, but I don't want to do it because we're afraid of the war or of losing each other. I want it to be because I just can't stand to see it bare anymore."
Hermione's breath caught in her throat as he spoke because it was what she wanted too. For her whole relationship with Sirius to be separate from the war that dominated every other aspect of her existence.
Her friendship with Pandora spent trying to end it; her relationship with Remus sacrificed to it. Her friendship with James and Lily spent trying to stop them succumbing to it. Sirius was the outlier.
The thing she kept for herself. To ground her in reality and reassure herself it would be worth it. That someday they'd get to be happy together, and now he was promising the same thing.
That when the war was over — if they both survived — he'd be at the end waiting for her. And with that thought, the words that had been on the tip of her tongue for months. That she'd wanted desperately to say — to confess — but had been too afraid of what they may mean if she let them pass her lips, tumbled from them unbidden.
"I love you."
He didn't even blink. Just pressed his lips to her knuckles again while replying, "Of course you do." Shooting her a cheeky grin while his eyes shone with something that betrayed his cool demeanour.
Huffing in exasperation, she tried to pull her hand away, but Sirius stopped her. Shushing her protests and laughing softly at the pout that had taken up residence on her face. "Of course, I love you, witch. I think part of me always has."
Being back at Hogwarts was somehow both a relief and an immense pressure. Regulus was free of Bellatrix's lessons. Of raiding missions and the risk of running into The Resistance while they were out, but he was stuck under the weight of the Dark Lord's task.
He didn't want to recruit anyone. To bring them into the unending darkness that was his life. Nights filled visions of terrified, pain-filled cries and twitching limbs that made his own body shake while he emptied his stomach and sat struggling to occlude away the memories. Thankful Slytherin's didn't have to live in the indignity of shared dorms past third year.
He rarely slept well these days. His eyes darkened by exhaustion; he was only thankful none of the Professors assumed it was anything more than exam stress. Or the tension that had slowly seeped into the castle over the past few years as everyone opened the paper, afraid of who may be gracing its pages.
The first morning back filled with horrified chattering as Regulus finally realised what fun the Dark Lord had been referring to when he'd given Regulus his own task.
The students horrified to learn the annual tradition had been attacked. And based on the scared whispering making its way around his own year, Regulus doubted anyone would be meeting at the Leaky next year.
Reassuring himself there were miraculously no casualties, Regulus took a breath. Knowing Sirius was exactly the kind of brash idiot who would actively flaunt his defiance of the Dark Lord's reign of terror. But beyond the mention of two admittances to St Mungo's — neither fatal and one an Auror who responded to the attack — there had only been minor injuries.
Something that made Regulus doubly relieved to be at Hogwarts while his brothers were undoubtedly paying for their failure. Still, he had other concerns. That same punishment waiting for him if he failed to produce a list of names for the Dark Lord.
Some were easy. Those who were as damned to it as he was — Rabastan Lestrange, Benedict Selwyn — but the Dark Lord knew he was almost guaranteed them and would be unimpressed if they were all Regulus had to offer. So, instead, he cast his eye over the Great Hall with an assessing gaze.
There were others in Slytherin, of course. Halfbloods who'd be grateful for his favour, but again Regulus knew if he wanted to avoid punishment, he'd need someone more useful and impressive than that.
Especially as Pandora's disownment meant he'd been all but abandoned to the Death Eaters. She had, at least, sent him a letter. A long missive begging that he remember his promise. That he'd know when the time came what she was referring to and that she would help as she'd sworn, but he couldn't help but feel betrayed.
He knew it was irrational. That Pandora had got out like he'd wanted her to and that she was apparently safe with Xenophillius Lovegood. Something he actually wasn't surprised by, but it still felt like he'd been abandoned all over again.
Like when Sirius had fled, leaving him to the mercy of their parents, Pandora had left him to the whims of an even greater evil. And for all she'd promised the time would come she could help, he still had to live long enough to make it until then, so he was stuck. Forced to find someone he could convince to join the Dark Lord.
He dismissed the Gryffindors as Snape had already failed there but also because he couldn't face trying to convert someone from Mary MacDonald's own house to join the very people who had hurt her. Not when she'd finally stopped looking quite so wan and fearful.
So, he was stuck with the Hufflepuffs and the Ravens. Neither the ideal candidate, but Ravenclaw at least had the benefit of intelligence. So, he cast his eyes back over their table and settled them on one quiet figure.
The son of the Head of the DMLE, he'd be an impressive convert, and Regulus was sure he'd welcome his friendship considering he was somewhat of an outcast in his own house.
So, he didn't let his gaze waver as Barty Crouch Jr looked up and raised an inquisitive brow in response to Regulus's stare. Instead, giving a single, solemn nod as his mind was made up.
Hermione had never been so relieved to see Sirius's flat. A week in St Mungo's, she never wanted to see the inside of the hospital again. Collapsing onto the sofa in relief.
She wasn't completely healed. Still had to take a multitude of potions each day, but she was, at least, no longer being held together by bandages, and she was free to return home.
From her place on the sofa, she watched Sirius fuss with her potions. Placing those that had to be kept cool in the icebox while thinking back over how he'd taken the last week in his stride.
Flittering between Auror training and the hospital. Apologetic every time he had to leave, but Hermione didn't blame him for it. He'd put so much work into getting accepted to the Auror program, she didn't want him to sacrifice that just to sit around the hospital with her all day.
So, she'd made him leave her with a collection of books she'd been enjoying about protective enchantments after letting the elderly couple who owned Alexandria know she wouldn't be able to make it in for quite some time.
Banishing him to work out some of his nervous energy shooting spells at dummies with Marlene and Dorcas rather than twitching at her bedside all day. The whole training cohort enjoying the few weeks of relative peace as Moody was still barred from the department.
A few messages sent across their bracelets had also stopped Pandora from coming as Hermione knew her friend was in a similarly delicate state. They'd exchanged messages about the well-meaning but occasionally overbearing men in their lives while both knowing they wouldn't change it for a thing.
Still, she was relieved to be home. To know she'd get to sleep in her own bed next to Sirius and his constantly twitching limbs. Rather than watch him force himself into the uncomfortable hospital chair to get nowhere near enough sleep if the still present bruises under his eyes were anything to go by.
Wandering back into the room, Sirius was wringing his hands together. His shoulders slightly tight as he spoke, "James and Lily were hoping to come over." She made a noncommittal noise. "I think they're worried about you."
Truthfully, she didn't really want them to. She wanted to bathe with something other than a scougify. To properly wash her hair now she could lift her arms above her head without her chest screaming in protest.
But she'd also been wearing the weight of Lily's engagement ring for the whole week of her stay while they'd kept up their charade and didn't want to be responsible for it any longer, so she smiled and agreed.
"Alright then — it would be nice to see them."
Watching as he disappearing to floo call them, she dozed only slightly from her place on the sofa. Waking to Sirius shaking her gently, feeling only slightly guilty about the look of concern on James's face. Sure, he'd decided he needed to feel whatever concern it would usually be Remus experiencing.
Blinking at them a few times, she finally found the words to say, "Hi," and watched as James and Lily tried to assess her condition.
Lily eventually replying, "Hey — how are you?"
The words were pity soaked, but Hermione didn't care. Giving her a pained smile, replying, "I'm okay — but I think I have something of yours," while pulling the ring far too easily off her finger.
Slightly surprised the Healers hadn't made more of a fuss over the overly thin fingers. The ribs and hip bones protruding from her skin as her appetite continued to be non-existent with the stress of everything else going on in her life. But supposed they'd had bigger things to worry about.
Holding the ring out like some kind of offering, Hermione continued, "Thank you — I hear it was your quick thinking that meant Sirius could stay with me." Lily smiled slightly before taking it back, "I'm only sorry I wore it for so long — that should have been yours the whole time."
"Well, I think I owe you that much at least," Lily replied.
"More than that," Janes agreed, "She owes you a life debt." He looked haunted by the memory as Lily continued,
"We both do now."
They didn't stay long after that. Lily revealing a large canister of soup from somewhere in her bag. Apparently determined to feed them as Ivy Evans swore it could heal all manner of ills, and Lily agreed with her mother's assessment. So, they'd left her and Sirius to a quiet dinner before going through their evening routines.
Resting back against the pillows, Hermione was relieved to be wearing her own pyjamas for the first time in a week. Hospital gowns lacking the familiarity of soft camisoles and shorts in the late summer heat. Even if the top of her new scar peeked out the top of her shirt. She'd grown used to the last one, and she'd grow used to his one. It would just take time.
Curling her body against Sirius's, she threaded their fingers together. Feeling only slightly surprised when he shifted to wrap his arm around her shoulders. Holding her to his chest.
She wasn't quite up for more exciting activities yet, but he didn't seem interested in that, as he buried his face in her hair. Breathing in the scent of her for a moment before whispering, "I have something for you."
Tilting her head to look up at him, she could feel her eyebrows draw together in confusion. Unsure what he could possibly be referring to but found herself struck dumb but the intensity of his gaze.
His chest rising and falling slowly beneath her own, it felt like her breath had been stolen from her his eyes were so entirely focused on her own. Hermione biting down on her lip before asking, "What?"
Arm tightening around her shoulders, he took a brief moment before replying. "I meant what I said. I won't put a ring on your finger until I can't bear not to see one there any longer, but this isn't that. I've had this for longer than I want to admit and have just been putting off giving it to you like some kind of Hufflepuff."
She could feel the confusion as it etched itself deeper onto her face as he let go of her hand and revealed a small box from somewhere. Dropping it into her palms with a nervous smile.
Glancing down at it, she felt her breath catch again as she saw it properly for the first time. An unassuming black, that wasn't what had caught her off guard. Instead, it was the carefully stamped Beaumonts in gold filigree across the top. The box suddenly taking on a whole new meaning as she glanced back up at him.
"Technically, the jacket wasn't the only thing I got you for your birthday," Sirius confessed before she could ask any more questions. "I wasn't quite ready then, but now — now I'm hoping you'll wear it for me."
Nodding slightly, she carefully opened the box. Taking in the delicate silver chain, twisted metal threaded together with tiny pearls. It was beautiful and would sit up high up above her collarbones.
Not ostentatious — just beautiful. That same promise he'd made in the hospital, that one day — eventually — there would be more, but for now, they were happy together encased in a necklace they both knew meant more than that.
Her own equivalent to the bracelet James gave Lily, it was more than just a promise to her but to the rest of society too. And for a moment, Hermione almost couldn't believe it. That Sirius Black would offer something like this to her, but looking at his earnest, ever so slightly nervous expression, she didn't question it.
Instead, meeting his eyes again, as she balanced the box on her lap. Bringing her fingers up to undo the clasp of the necklace Pandora had given her what felt like a lifetime ago.
Abandoning that reminder of destiny and how things couldn't be changed, she placed it gently on the bedside table — intending to retire it to her jewellery box as she accepted a different promise entirely.
Looking back to him again to ask, "Help me put it on."
He let out a shuddery breath as she handed over the box. Letting him wrap it around her neck, fingers fumbling with the clasp meant for hands much smaller than his own, but eventually, he got it. Pressing a kiss just below it, on the curve of her neck, that made a tremor run through her as she played gently with the chain for a moment.
Smiling back at him and asking, "How does it look?"
"Beautiful," he replied, absolute devotion shining out of grey eyes that made her push back emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her. Bringing his hands to her lips to press a kiss to them, whispering, "Thank you," against the skin.
Moment passed; exhaustion washed over her. The last few days and minutes draining that last of her energy, she lay back against the pillows. Smiling as Sirius came to rest his head by her chest. Like now she was back, he couldn't bear to be parted from her for any length of time.
They lay in silence. Sirius's hand resting over her heart, where the new scar started, tracing patterns on the skin. She didn't recognise it at first. Too caught up on the weight of his necklace around her neck and the relief of being home to focus on the movement of his fingers. But when she did, Hermione felt a cold wash of realisation settle over her.
He was tracing the pattern of her old scar — of the rebirth rune — like he wished it had never left.