Chapter 29: Minister Umbridge

Recap so the start of this chapter makes sense:

Hermione gave Petal a smile and left the room. Changing her mind on the threshold, she turned, bolted up the stairs, and found Petal some dry clothes from her trunk. Running back down, she grabbed one of the old cloaks they had stashed in the entry cupboard and delivered them to Petal. The clothes wouldn't fit her perfectly, but it was better than the damp and thin top and trousers she was wearing. Petal thanked her, and Hermione didn't find it easy to leave her alone with McGonagall.

The Home and Ground Teams were already mobilising when Hermione reached the kitchen, Sirius, Harry, Ron, Tonks, and Ginny among them. Hermione didn't envy them in this rain. Petal was to be accompanied over the Border by Fred and George, both people she should be familiar with from school.

'Hope it's as boring as last time!' Tonks said as she passed Hermione, her broom over her shoulder. She gave Hermione a smile and jogged up the stairs after Sirius.

Music suggestion: Wrapped in Piano Strings, Radical Face

It was, Hermione was comforted to find. Nerve-wracking to sit and wait for word once the area had been declared clear and Fred, George, and Petal had taken off, but wonderfully uneventful. No person in their right mind, Fred declared when he and George stamped back into Number 12 at about six am, would be out in that deluge if they could avoid it.

Ginny, Ron, and Lee were too tired to head home, choosing instead to crash at headquarters for a few hours. Hermione understood their decision. Her feet dragged as she headed up to bed. Pausing at her bedroom door she called a goodnight to Sirius across the landing.

He turned, gave a bit of a smile, and wished her the same. It made a small difference. The day had been too much, but anxiety and whirling thoughts didn't keep Hermione awake. She was asleep almost the moment her head hit the pillow. She woke surrounded by daylight much brighter than she'd seen for a few days.

Hermione didn't want to keep her eyes open. She tugged the covers up over her head and lay there, dozy and peaceful, in the warm cocoon.

A dreamy presence curled up behind her. No more than a languid phantom of Hermione's imagination, but wonderful up against her back… sliding a solid-feeling arm over her side… wrapping it around her middle. Hermione could sense a face, caring and full of humour, resting on the pillow… so close to the back of her shoulder.

Hermione languished in the feeling, smiling sleepily into her bunched sheets. She took a luxurious breath, then realised, and bolted up in bed; swung her legs off it and sat, staring at the window, open to a view of the midday world outside.

The feeling hadn't disappeared entirely. Hermione could still get a sense of him behind her. If she looked, she'd see nothing, and know it was all in her mind. She didn't look.

He was there, if Hermione shut her eyes. Taller and stronger than her. Legs slipping off the bed on either side of her… sitting behind her. There was warmth right the way up Hermione's back. She could make herself feel his arms wrap around her. Pull her back against his chest… firm and steady against her back…

Hermione shuddered. There were images she hadn't asked for behind her eyelids. But… so long as she kept them above Sirius's belt, they were just fine. That… little trail of hair that appeared above his waistband and drew a line to his navel…

Shuddering again, Hermione got herself up, out of bed and the phantom apparition that occupied it, and into the bathroom.

They'd chosen to drop the watch on Flint Manor for lack of any indication the Flint they were after lived in or even visited the house. With that watch gone and the one on Rolwe's much reduced, Hermione saw more of her fellow NEWT students over the next couple days.

It was her birthday in less than a week, but it was the watch mission on Tuesday Hermione was looking forward to more when she woke early that morning. She'd seen Sirius over the previous two days. He'd pop in at times and lend one or other of the NEWT students a hand or a few bits of advice and encouragement. It hadn't been Hermione, therefore, who had much to do with him on those occasions.

Sirius taking her arm, as usual the lead who knew where they were going, they began by staking out the Goyle Mansion – and mansion it certainly was. They approached, not by road, but over a creek and up a hill to the side of the grand house.

In the growing dawn, the mansion commanded the high ground as a huge, white stone atrocity of hodgepodge styles, spurting out of lawn in the middle of relatively unadorned grounds. With an L-shaped plan, the entrance to the house lived on the outside corner and was announced by sweeping stone steps up to a projected, enormous, and covered front stoop adorned with Grecian columns and caryatids. Massive windows, spanning either three or two very tall storeys, reached pointed arches – dressed to look obscenely baroque – up to nearly touch the crenelated flat roof; and, at both ends of the L, towers, as extra battlements, rose to unnecessary heights above the rest of the building.

'Christ…' Hermione muttered, staring, as she and Sirius took watch spots in one of the small patches of trees not too far from the house.

Sirius sniggered quietly.

'Not your dream house?' he whispered.

'… Can you imagine keeping it clean? Who has to sweep the roof? Scrub the outside of those windows?'

'House elves.'

'It's not worth it,' Hermione determined. 'It's too hideous.'

She heard Sirius suppress his laughter. Hermione smiled to herself.

Other than Gregory Goyle (looking as huge and dumb as ever) leaving the house by broom, they saw absolutely nothing at the Goyle mansion. They left around midday and stopped to eat their lunches near a little spring, made picturesque by the sound of bubbling and the dense growth of ferns.

Hermione knew the way to the Carrow estate now. She grumbled at every barbed wire fence she had to crawl under.

'You'd get less muddy if you climbed them,' Sirius said, amused, as he waited for her on the other side of the last fence.

'I can't climb them,' Hermione said, disgruntled, dusting off her clothes. 'You may be able to leap over them like they're one foot high, but they seem a lot higher to me, and I don't want to be wobbling around on spiky wire.'

'I'd give you a hand,' Sirius said, setting off. 'You wouldn't wobble.'

'I can't see your hands.'

'Here.'

From the pause of the indentations his boots made in the grass, Hermione noticed he'd stopped a second before she ran into his back.

Sirius snorted his amusement. Hermione felt his fingers prod her side, reaching behind himself to find her.

'My hand is here.'

Hermione took it in hers. It had seemed a natural response to Sirius proffering it, but the second after she'd slipped her fingers into it, she rethought the action.

Sirius, though, didn't give her a chance to work out how to get out of the situation. His grip had tightened, and he'd started forward again, leading Hermione by a hand that felt small held in his. Hermione swallowed and hurried to get in step with him on the gravel lane.

'Neville did manage a great Obscuring charm on the window,' Sirius told her, and thus began an easy conversation about their studies.

They swapped vantage points a couple times, between front and back in the Carrows' parterre garden, and spotted only a house elf sweeping the front walk by the time the daylight began to dim.

'What would you choose for an Animagus form?' Sirius asked conversationally.

'Choose?' Hermione whispered. 'I wouldn't be able to choose. Likely I'd be an otter, but not necessarily.'

'Forget the reality of it,' Sirius said. 'What would you choose?'

Hermione thought about it.

'I'm not sure,' she said slowly. 'I'd like something useful. Not a bird. I'm not that fond of flying. There are benefits to being big or small… and drawbacks… The same is true for an animal that can't live on land…'

'You're over-thinking it.'

'All right, then,' Hermione said, 'then a cat of some sort. Perhaps not a house cat. Maybe a tiger or caracal… or a sand cat!'

'Sand cat?'

'They're desert adapted cats. They can run very fast when they need to, they're quite stealthy, not so big, and they look enough like a house cat that they wouldn't be suspicious here. And,' Hermione added, 'they have gorgeous big, fuzzy heads!'

Sirius chuckled. That, as it had been all day, had been what Hermione had been aiming for.

'What about you?' Hermione asked.

'Maybe a dragon,' Sirius said. 'There'd be an issue with being stealthy though. One more look at the back of the place?'

They crept around to the rear garden and crouched by a hedge. They were there for near a half hour, the darkness settling in around them, when a light flickered on in a room on the ground floor. One of the numerous sitting rooms, Hermione remembered. She shuffled sideways to see better, and squinted through the gloom and a flowering shrub.

'I think,' she hissed excitedly to Sirius, 'the door is ajar!'

A second lamp lit in the room and Hermione could see it more clearly: a glass door that opened onto the back courtyard wasn't completely closed.

'Let's get a bit closer,' she whispered. 'The Extendable Ears can't reach from here.'

Hesitantly, Sirius followed her. They snuck across grass to the edge of a flowerbed and hunkered down, Hermione already tugging the fleshy cord of an Extendable Ear out of her bag.

'Go!' she and Sirius breathed at the Ears.

What looked very much like a pink cardigan moved into view through one of the room's windows and Hermione's heart leapt into her throat. She sunk down lower on her knees, listening hard, her eyes trained on the shoulder of pink cardigan, as the Disillusioned Ears rustled quietly across the grass.

Hermione's assumption was correct. She jumped a little as Umbridge's simpering tones reached her ear.

'Your concerns, Amycus, like all citizens' of this nation, are important to me. I am, however, unable to please all people, as much as I sincerely wish I could!'

Amycus Carrow, it seemed, didn't take this for the shut-down it was.

'But Blishwick and Butler, Um- I mean, Min'ster,' he protested. 'And you've gorn and put Reina Pratt on it too! Reina Pratt! Yaxley would never 'ave let her near the Min'stry! She's a mad bint, that one!'

Someone else laughed in a wild cackle.

'Madder than you, eh, Amycus?' a harsh female voice asked. Alecto Carrow, Hermione guessed.

'Shuddup, will you.' Amycus growled. 'You're no better.'

'What he's saying, Minister,' said Alecto, her voice suddenly much smoother, 'is that we've supported your tenure more'n they have, haven't we? Surely we can be better trusted to support you any way we can?'

'Your loyal support,' Umbridge said, 'has been greatly appreciated, have no doubt. I shall do what I can, but I must remind you it is neither me, nor, indeed, Corban Yaxley, who has the power to control the composition of the Wizengamot. That power, as ever, lies with the people of this great country.'

'Ah, come on,' Amycus said, coaxing. 'We know you 'ave more power than you give yourself credit for, Min'ster.'

'People listen to you,' Alecto said, her voice buttery. 'They trust you.'

Umbridge left a modest pause that made Hermione scowl.

'All the same,' she said sweetly, 'it is the decision of the public. We shall see, we shall see. As I say, I shall do what I can, but I am a very busy woman. There are greater things that concern me, I am sure you can understand. Do tell me, how is the Border?'

'Intact,' said Amycus, 'says Wilkie.'

'Is that so?'

'It's what Wilkie says,' repeated Amycus.

'I see…' Umbridge said slowly.

'It's Potter,' Amycus said forcefully. 'And that Granger girl. I bet you they've found a way around it!'

'Impossible,' said Umbridge. 'There is no way to cross the Border without the Ministry knowing.'

'Yeh, well,' said Amycus, 'it ain't the first time Potter and the Mudblood have got the better of you, is it? No disrespect intended, Min'ster.'

There was a brief, cold silence. Hermione couldn't see Umbridge trying to fill this one with pretence of modesty.

'Excuse me?'

'Well – well – ' Amycus floundered. 'The Mudblood… right next to you in the Min'stry without you knowin' it… And the centaurs…'

'Whatever rumours you have heard, Amycus,' Umbridge's voice had reached dangerous heights of sweetness, 'I will have you know they are no more than my opponents' malicious attempts to discredit me.'

'I am terribly sorry, Minister,' said Alecto. 'It's his obsession with the Granger M- girl.'

'Let's go!' Sirius hissed in Hermione's ear. But Alecto was still talking. Hermione whispered back distractedly, 'Just – hold on…'

'You can't shut him up,' Alecto said disparagingly. 'Keeps complaining about how you let her go with Black. Thinks you've got a soft spot for the girl…'

'No I don't!' Amycus roared. 'Shut it Alecto! You're jus-'

'I see there is some doubt among my supporters,' Umbridge said, very softly. She tisked. 'Dear Alecto, Amycus… have you ever noticed Granger, Potter, or, indeed, any of Dumbledore's most loyal, to care to follow the rules?'

'Hermione!' Sirius breathed. He'd grabbed her wrist, but Hermione resisted.

'They do not,' Umbridge said sadly. 'Gryffindor has long harboured bullies and miscreants and taught them that to be unruly is to be brave. Mr Shacklebolt, Black, and Miss Granger are as deluded as any of them, thinking they are noble when all they are is impetuous. You may think me amiss to approve their unions, but, I assure you, what I am doing is Stunning two Augureys with one spell. Any resistance to a rule I know they will not adhere to is all it will take to teach them criminal disobedience hurts not only themselves, but the rest of our convalescing community.'

Sirius gave Hermione's wrist a hard tug. She yanked back, holding the Extendable Ear more firmly in her ear.

'Black's sneaky,' Amycus said petulantly. 'The Dark Lord always said. Not easy to get hold of. Got tricks up his sleeve. You could get the Weasley kid, but not the Animagus Black.'

'You think Black is an Animagus?' Umbridge said, her girlish voice mocking. 'I think not. Whatever He-Who-Was-Defeated thought, it was not Black who brought him down. Black was captured without any resistance and perished by merely falling over. He is deranged. It was reported to me he stank of whiskey when he presented himself on Granger's behalf to the Office for Muggle-born Protection. Whatever mystique is attributed to him is due to no more than the stories he spread about himself as a conceited child.'

'He loved the attention he got in school,' Alecto said gleefully. 'Especially his popularity with the young girls.'

'You see?' Umbridge said. 'A playboy gone to seed. Pitiful, but dangerous only as a poster boy, as Rita Skeeter likes to paint him. I will have more tea, Alecto.'

Hermione could just hear the tea being poured.

'The flowers you keep in here are delightful,' Umbridge said. 'Which one is responsible for that smell?'

'That's the frangipani in the garden,' Alecto said proudly. 'Twilight brings out their perfume best. I thought you'd like it.'

'In the garden,' Umbridge repeated, then Hermione saw her cardigan suddenly twist around and, a second later, Umbridge's wide, toad-like face stared out of the partially open glass door.

'We've got to go!' Sirius hissed urgently. 'Now!'

Hermione grabbed for her Extendable Ear.

'Have you done your perimeter checks tonight?' Umbridge demanded.

'Not like Yaxley does…'

Hermione didn't hear the rest of what Amycus was saying. She'd tugged her Extendable Ear far enough in that his grumbles were inaudible. Sirius was pulling at her. Hermione scrambled to her feet.

'I see something!' Umbridge shrieked, able to be heard even without the Ears. 'There! Moving in the grass!'

Hermione heard the door bash open but didn't stop to see. Sirius had a vice-like grip around the top of her arm. Hermione ran with him as he yanked her along, barely able to keep her feet under her. A spell hit a shrub next to her and blew it into an explosion of petals. Hermione half-turned to see and stumbled on an uneven patch of ground –

Sirius's grip was too tight for Hermione to fall all the way down. She skidded along the grass, pulled by Sirius, before she found her footing again – just – as he tugged, fingers biting into her skin; her shoes scrabbled for purchase on the grass, and she sprinted for the road, the Extendable Ear trailing behind her, grasped tightly in Hermione's hand.

'Disillusium Revalio!' Umbridge screamed behind them. It missed Hermione by centimetres. She leapt the flowerbed by the street, made it, and landed, gripped tightly by Sirius's arm. He turned on the spot, and the sight of Umbridge huffing and puffing, racing after them on short legs with the Carrows behind her disappeared into a swirl of suffocating darkness.

Hermione and Sirius landed hard on a narrow trail, paved in stone that served as a break in overgrown gardens. Hermione recognised the Lupins' front garden as Sirius let her go. She staggered aside and bent to catch her breath. She checked she still had her Mission Kit, wand, and the Extendable Ear.

'You haven't… dropped anything?' she panted to Sirius. 'Nothing… they could find and… link to us?'

Sirius didn't respond. He reappeared, dropping his Disillusionment Charm, and his face was held like pale, furious stone. He had his wand, gripped in his hand, and the Kit slung over his shoulder, its clasp shut. Hermione hurried to copy him, rapping herself over the head with her wand.

Sirius gave her a cold look, then started determinedly up the path to the Lupins' front door. Hermione followed him, feeling something desperate and unhappy rear up in her chest.

'Little whiney-boy,' Sirius muttered, tapping his wand to the door handle. It clicked open and he shoved into the house, holding the door open only long enough for Hermione to enter after him before he slammed it shut.

Remus appeared around the kitchen cabinets. He took one look at Sirius and raised his wand. He aimed it, not at the cold and glaring Sirius, but at the closed door to Teddy's nursery.

'I told you,' Sirius growled. 'I told you we should leave!'

Hermione turned to face him. His face rooted her to the spot, unable to look away.

'Three times!' Sirius snarled, eyes blazing in a white mask. He gripped Hermione's arms and leant in with an intimidating stare. 'Do you have any idea how close we were to getting caught?'

'I do know!' Hermione shot back. 'Of course I know! But we would have missed so much of what we just learned!'

'LEARNED WHAT?' Sirius exploded, shaking Hermione. 'WHAT DID WE LEARN? HOW OBSESSED CARROW IS WITH YOU? HOW IS THAT HELPFUL?'

'No!' Hermione shouted back. 'We learned they underestimate you! Enormously! For me, at least, that's of huge benefit to know! We learned that not following the rules would be our downfall – that's what they're counting on – that they're doing perimeter checks! We need to know that!'

'That we could get caught!' Sirius yelled, his face contorting. 'Yes – we need to remember that! We're targets! Specific targets! WHICH WE JUST MADE OURSELVES MORE OF!'

'Only if they knew it was us!'

Sirius's jaw was very tight. He seemed to draw inwards. His grip was painful on Hermione's shoulders. She grappled for a hold on him, grabbing his t-shirt.

'You think,' he said, very coldly – very controlled, 'that Carrow isn't going to think it was you? That he's not going to pin it on us, no matter what? Think he's no big threat?' Sirius's voice dropped to chilling lows. 'I went to school with him, Hermione. I was in his year. He tortured small animals for fun! He's a sick bastard! You get caught – if you end up with him – you won't come out like Phillip Coles. You'll wish your life was over well before we start pulling you out in bits!'

Hermione stared at him. Sirius was very close to her face. His certainty was there to be seen in his fierce expression. He hadn't looked at her like that for a while. Hermione felt her spine cowering.

'Umbridge wants to get rid of you,' Sirius went on, his voice low and rumbly. 'Any small misdemeanour – you knew that before you heard it! Yet there you were – giving her an opportunity!'

'To take you too…' Hermione breathed. 'To – oh – Merlin, Sirius! I'm so sorry!'

'That's not – '

But Hermione's hands were shaking as she gripped his top. The harder she clenched her fists on the fabric, the harder they seemed to shake, the vibrations radiating up her arms, stopping where Sirius had her flesh pinched in his hands. Delayed, the fear seemed to hit her all at once. Hermione felt sick.

'Ow…' she uttered.

There was a protected moment of stillness, then Sirius abruptly let go.

However ferocious Sirius had looked… his chest was mere inches from Hermione's face – firm and solid. She didn't feel steady. She felt tiny and weak – like a seedling caught in a gusting storm – as though the room had reared up to crash into her. Hermione tipped forward and planted her face in his t-shirt... She gripped him, trying to avoid falling over.

A long breath seemed to billow out of Sirius. One of his arms wrapped around Hermione's shoulders. A second later his other arm joined it and held the back of her head cradled against him.

'Sorry,' he muttered quietly but hastily. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Or scare you. Really, Hermione…'

Hermione shook her head. It made her feel even more as though the world was tipping away under her. Her eyes were leaking the cool trickles of tears that welled with fear, her mouth closed against an unwanted heave of her stomach; the corners of her mouth sour. She knew she was shaking, and Sirius knew it too. He changed his grip and held her more tightly. It seemed a desperate action, and that just made Hermione find the tears harder to fight.

She couldn't talk. There was a huge ball in her throat. She felt pathetic, but, at the same time, cared little for anything but the need to stay where she felt safe and sheltered. She clung to Sirius like a mindless limpet; the room beyond her hidey-hole rushing like a ferocious hurricane.

Her insane panic didn't seem to need flashbacks or images now. All she saw was the blackness behind her eyelids. Somehow, that seemed so much worse. Black. And… without anything better to describe it, just awful.

'Sirius…' Hermione heard Remus say softly.

'I don't know,' Sirius muttered impatiently. 'Just… shut up for a second…'

Hermione felt him start to rub her shoulder. His chin touched her head.

'Shhh…shhhh…shhhh,' Sirius uttered, like Hermione was Teddy overdue for a nap. He kept it up, his hand starting to rub her back in larger and larger circles. Hermione pinched her eyes more tightly shut, feeling stupider and stupider, but unable to deny the comfort of it.

'You're okay…' Sirius whispered. 'You're fine… Don't worry…'

Like it was the first she'd taken in years, Hermione sucked in a huge breath. She shuddered with sudden sobs. It seemed to send a rapid rush of blood into her body. Her upper arms ached and her ankle burst into a wave of pain. Sirius's fingers had worked themselves into her hair. Hermione felt their presence against her scalp oddly comforting.

'S-sorry,' Hermione muttered shakily.

'No – just…' Sirius's response faltered. 'Rest…' he finished lamely.

'What happened?' Remus asked.

Hermione felt Sirius's chest inflate. He sighed and picked his head up from the top of Hermione's.

Sirius gave their report in straightforward sentences only a small portion of Hermione's mind heard. The rest of it focused more and more on the sound of his voice. Hermione could feel her nerves prickle at the close attention she paid to the deep rumble of it, but it was as though she was merely remembering finding it nerve-wracking. She was calming, slowly, but mercifully.

'Reina Pratt,' Hermione provided, speaking into Sirius's top, when he failed to remember the names Amycus Carrow had mentioned. 'Butler, and Blishwick.'

'We already figured Blishwick was one of the new nominees in the Wizengamot,' Sirius said. 'I didn't recognise the other two.'

'Reina Pratt is not a name I've heard before,' said Remus, 'but I know Nepitian Butler, formerly or currently of the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.'

'Not a fan of werewolves?' Sirius guessed.

'I would say he has views Umbridge could identify with,' Remus said mildly.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione moved away from Sirius. He let her go immediately, but was watching her closely as, feeling very hot around the collar, Hermione faced the room.

'I don't think Umbridge sees us as much of a threat,' she said.

'She just chased us,' Sirius retorted, disbelieving, 'across the Carrows' garden.'

'Yes,' Hermione agreed, 'I know. I'm not denying she wouldn't be happy to lock anyone up. But I don't think she's worried about us. Certainly I think she knows Harry could do damage to her public relations if he put his mind to it, but if she really was scared we could do anything to her, we wouldn't have the freedom we do, and she wouldn't be waiting for us to put enough of a foot wrong for her to act against us. "Gryffindor has long harboured bullies and miscreants and taught them that to be unruly is to be brave",' Hermione recited. 'I think Umbridge has taken to seeing us as not much of an opposition at all.'

'Frankly,' Sirius said, 'she's not wrong.'

'Exactly,' said Hermione. 'We can't oppose her, and, really, even to try to tarnish her public image would be dangerous for us, and we know it. I think, for now, she's content to leave things at a stalemate.'

'My more immediate concern,' said Remus, 'is the attention they're paying the Border.'

'Umbridge doesn't believe anyone can get over it undetected,' said Sirius.

'Umbridge may not,' Remus pointed out, 'but someone else may.'

'What are they going to do?' Sirius asked. 'Patrol hundreds of miles of sea all day, every day?'

'I do not know,' said Remus. 'But we may find future attempts to cross more difficult.'

None of them had anything left to discuss. Into the silence Hermione murmured an embarrassed, 'I'm sorry…'

Remus looked at her. He gave his head a small shake and her an encouraging smile.

'You have nothing to apologise for,' he said. 'Sirius, however…'

Sirius glanced around, surprised, then spotted Teddy's door and grimaced guiltily.

'He doesn't seem to have woken,' he said cautiously. 'Impervious Charm?'

Remus nodded.

'I can read you like a book, Sirius.'

They left the little cottage more quietly than they'd entered it. Hermione had definitely done something to her ankle. It shot with pain every time she put weight on it. She could avoid limping walking down the path to Disapparate, but landing on the front step of Number 12 wasn't as easy. Hermione toppled, caught herself on the doorframe, and followed Sirius inside.

Though hungry, Hermione was glad to see Sirius turn into the sitting room and drop onto the sofa. She took the seat next to him, relieved to get off her ankle. From what she could see in a sideways look, Sirius didn't seem bothered by Hermione joining him.

'Do you really think,' Hermione said cautiously, 'it's that… bad?'

Sirius sighed and glanced at her.

'I don't know, Hermione. No, they probably can't know for sure who was there. But if Luna and George were noticed, it's the second time they've been shown the house is being watched. It's probably a good idea for us to avoid the Carrow house for a time, and be much more careful everywhere else as well.'

Hermione nodded mutely and rubbed at the returned tingles in her fingers. She still didn't feel great. The tingles coming back were enough to put her near tears all over again, and knowing she may well have put the rest of the Order at greater risk pushed her even nearer. That's what guilt was there for: when you did harm to others, you were supposed to feel terrible.

'I meant it about Carrow,' Sirius said seriously. 'Alecto is bad, Amycus is worse. He's been sick and twisted since the day he was born. Coles only saw some of it. You don't want to end up in close proximity to Amycus.'

Hermione swallowed. She fought a frisson. Sirius hadn't mentioned anything other than the house elf curse Phillip Coles had been hit by. She didn't want to know the details.

They'd sat on either end of the sofa, a clear foot and a half between them. Hermione felt the space as cold distance. Angry distance. Hermione's upper arms still ached, the right more than the left. There'd probably be bruises there in the morning.

Sirius didn't seem angry anymore. Rather, he looked tired. He'd slumped back in the sofa and retrieved his cigarettes. He ached for nicotine. Hermione ached for a touch of what tenderness he'd managed to show her before.

Sirius took a few pulls of his cigarette, then left it between two fingers as he leant forward on his knees.

'What is it?' he asked suddenly enough to make Hermione jump. She looked at him, wondering what she'd upset him with now. But he met her eyes, and didn't look angry or irritated. 'What happened earlier?' he went on, not speaking harshly. 'You, getting… upset like that? You said your fingers tingled, before. The world was… rocking around you?'

Hermione shook her head. She had no idea where to start.

'You don't have to tell me,' Sirius said, still watching her. 'But you should probably tell someone.'

'I… panic,' Hermione said quietly. 'Worse than I used to. It's like I… get suddenly… overwhelmed.' She gave her fingers another rub, then spread them out in front of her. 'They're tingling now. The last two, on both hands. I think it's linked to anxiety… psychosomatic, or something. Or… as a result of not breathing properly. But the world isn't rocking right now… thankfully.'

'Did the tingling stop at all?'

Hermione nodded.

'Until now.'

Harry returned home then. He spotted them and stopped just outside the sitting room.

'What happened?' he asked warily.

Sirius explained for them on the way down to dinner. Hermione lagged behind. The rest hadn't helped her ankle. She was fairly certain it hurt worse now.

Wincing all the way, she made it slowly down the kitchen steps and gave up on leaving it. Rest, Ice, Compression, and Elevation, followed by days or even weeks of healing, had been the treatment for sprains and strains Hermione had been taught by Muggle parents. It was no longer her only option.

Hovering in the kitchen doorway, Hermione considered it. Sirius was ladling himself soup from a tureen in the middle of the table. He finished filling Harry in and both wizards looked curiously over at her.

'Sirius,' Hermione said, deciding, 'could you… have a look at my ankle?'

Sirius had sat down with his bowl. He frowned at her trainer.

'What's wrong with it?'

Hermione tread carefully into the room.

'I'm not sure. I think I went over on it.'

'When?'

'When we were running… at the Carrows'.'

That seemed to stir Sirius's memory. He put down his spoon and toed a neighbouring chair out from under the table.

Hermione's jeans and shoes were a mess, covered in grass stains and dirt smudges. She sat and gingerly removed her shoe and sock as Sirius shuffled his chair over to sit directly in front of her. Leaving her sock balled in her shoe, Hermione looked up at him. She didn't know how he expected her to present her ankle and the oddly distant look that had appeared on Sirius's face wasn't encouraging.

She hesitated until Sirius held out his hand and said, 'Here.'

It wasn't an action that clarified much, but Hermione lifted her foot. Sirius caught her leg and propped it on his knee. He bent over her foot. Hermione bit her lip as his fingers, warm and very gentle, turned her ankle this way and that, inspecting it. It had already started to swell, Sirius's fingers homing in on the tender spot and prodding it.

Without looking up he asked, 'There?'

'Yes… and a little on the other side too.'

Sirius glanced at the inside of her ankle, but returned his attention shortly to the outside and drew his wand. He switched it to his left hand and prodded it to the tender spot. He hadn't uttered a sound and was using his non-dominant hand, but the apple green light rapidly grew to surround Hermione's ankle. Sirius waited for her to test it on the floor and declare it much better before he pulled himself back to his meal and silently returned to eating.

Confused, Hermione watched him for a moment before getting herself a bowl. He didn't make any acknowledgement of her thanks. Where, minutes before, Sirius had been animated and active, all of a sudden he'd withdrawn.

Hermione swallowed to clear her throat surreptitiously.

'How do you do that?' she asked Sirius. 'Use your left hand to perform magic?'

He glanced up from his bowl. His expression had grown curiously clouded – almost closed off.

Sirius shrugged and went back to his dinner.

'Benefit of being an Animagus,' he told his spoon. 'To be successful, one of the first things you have to learn is not to rely on directing magic with a single part of your body.'

Hermione wondered on that as she began her dinner.

'You're probably better at it than people who learn to become Animagi as adults,' she said. Sirius looked up at her only briefly. 'A child's brain is more neuroplastic,' Hermione explained, 'and you were quite young when you began the Animagus transformation.'

On a growing number of occasions, Hermione presenting a new thing Sirius could be interested in had elicited numerous questions and a stimulating conversation. This time, Sirius just hummed quietly and went on with his dinner.

It was an uncomfortable affair, devoid of conversation. Sirius finished quickly and, citing tiredness, went up to bed early. He left a subdued Harry and an irritated Hermione in his wake. She cast Sirius's closed bedroom door a look when she took herself up to bed a couple hours later. The lamps were on inside, a strip of brightness visible in the gap under the door. Seeing it moved aside some of Hermione's irritation, making way for sadness. In one, mysterious moment, things had gone back to the unhappiness they'd been at before.

She changed into pyjamas and turned to take on Crookshanks. By all appearances, the cat was nothing more than a curled fluffy ginger cushion – laying on Hermione's pillow. One yellow eye peeked up at Hermione from the region of Crookshanks's foot. It blinked slowly – affectionately – at her, showing Hermione the cat had no intention of giving her her pillow back.

Hermione got to her knees by the bed and slipped her hand under the covers. She gave the underside of them a scratch. Watching the cat closely, she darted her hand over and gave a new spot a scratch.

Crookshanks's head had emerged. He stared intently at the scratching spot, then looked up at Hermione.

'You know it's me,' Hermione coaxed, 'but you still want to attack it.'

Crookshanks rolled onto all four paws. Hermione darted her hand elsewhere again and Crookshanks's hindquarters wiggled. He pounced at the same moment a rap sounded on the door and Hermione startled.

'Hermione,' Sirius's voice said through the door.

Hermione got to her feet and opened the door.

'Yes?'

Despite it being in his house, Hermione didn't think Sirius had ever been in her bedroom before. He looked odd in the doorway, and odder still as a result of how uncertain he looked.

'I…' Sirius began hesitantly, but then his eyes dropped to Hermione's arm and he just nodded at it.

Hermione looked down. Her pyjama top had short, rather girlish sleeves. Her mother had bought it for her a few years before, and, despite the ruffle-y edges creped by pearlescent thread, Hermione had kept it purely because of how comfortable it was. It wasn't that Sirius was looking at though. There were raised pink marks around the top of her right arm.

Hermione had nearly forgotten. The ache in her arms had quickly become negligible.

Sirius hadn't changed for bed yet. His wand was stuck though his belt. Hermione saw his hand go for it.

'I'm sorry,' he said, fingering the top of his wand. 'I wanted to see… if I'd hurt you.'

'It's okay…' Hermione said uncomfortably. 'I… erm… I'm not bothered by it… it wasn't intentional…'

Sirius wasn't meeting her eyes. Hermione chewed the inside of her lip, watching him. There was a dark and hollow look about his eyes Hermione found upsetting to see.

'You can Heal it if you like?' she suggested.

It was a suggestion Sirius took her up on without saying a word. Hermione stood, finding the situation even more awkward than when he'd done her ankle, as he prodded his wand around first her right arm, then, though it didn't look as bad, her left.

'Do your fingers still tingle?' Sirius asked as he released her arm.

Hermione flexed them.

'Not really,' she said. 'Maybe a little… Sometimes it's hard to tell whether they are still tingling or if I'm just imagining it.'

Sirius didn't respond.

Crookshanks hopped off the bed as Sirius stepped away to leave. He trotted up to and past the man, headed for Sirius's room. As much as Hermione had been looking forward to a cuddle with the cat, she thought, maybe, Sirius needed him more tonight.

'Goodnight,' she said quietly.

Sirius met her eyes then and Hermione gave him a smile.

''Night, Hermione.'

Hermione shut the door after him and sat on her bed, thoroughly bemused. She could feel a ghostly sense of Sirius's fingers on her arms. Not of when they'd gripped her tightly, but the very soft touch he'd used Healing them. So soft Hermione had barely felt the contact – intensely cautious, as though she was some highly fragile flower he'd bruise if he put any pressure on her at all.

No matter how long Hermione pondered the man, she came to no conclusions and went to bed as confused as she had been when she'd opened her bedroom door. The conclusion her mind, slow to find sleep, did reach, was that her and Sirius having what Umbridge's Ministry had declared a "happy marriage" was to follow the cow's rules. As much as Hermione couldn't bear to see Sirius sent back to Azkaban – or see anything else happen to him because of her – to admit to herself that she'd need to go through that horrible farce of intimacy with him again…

She'd never be able to sleep tonight if she let her mind go there.

Author's Note

I don't think I'll be able to post Sunday morning, so I'm putting this up now.

As I'm doing something of a "countdown to the holidays" with these chapters, there will be another chapter up today, to keep me on schedule for the chapters I want to post around Christmas.

My impression, in this chapter, is that it contains a few small… "tones of an unhealthy relationship", as I've decided to call it. While that is part of the bedrock of their early relationship (and I do love me my delayed or subtle consequences), I want to reassure anyone who might be, or may become, concerned that Hermione and Sirius's relationship will remain on that edge of "eek", that you will get a solid, intense, (sexy), and heart-melting romance from this tale (at least, I still get emotional reading parts of it!). Also, my comment on the idea of "healthy relationships" will morph over the course of the story. (And Sirius does not become properly abusive. He gets better.)

I do want to point out, though, that this is one of the biggest reasons why I rated this story as I did. Sirius gets better, but he's rare in doing so.

Responding to reviews:

Dear Ana,

Unfortunately, though I tried not to, once again I have to warn some slight SPOILERS in this response. I tried hard to make it vague! And it's also looooonnnggg.

I can't tell you how pleased I am to hear your views and get to converse with you on this!

Ooh no, I understand only about every fifth word written in French, haha! And that's just the really simple stuff or guessing! Sadly, I should know more, I just don't. Also, knowing you're French… I took some liberties in my attempt to write a "French accent", and some French expressions that you will have to call me up on later on! I tried to model the accent on what JK did, to keep it consistent, like with Hagrid, but, admittedly, the voice that appears in my head reading it sounds more like Monty Python accents than the real thing. Then again, it's the same for another character, later on, who I also attempted to write something of an accent for, and dang… despite me being much more familiar with that one, that accent doesn't quite read right either. Honestly, I think the only time I really got the right accent in writing was with Seamus, because there's one passage there that, no matter what, I instantly read in an Irish accent!

I'm fascinated that I've completely missed this common impression of Orion! I've genuinely never encountered this impression before, so I've obviously missed a lot! I also never read Sirius as being neuro-atypical or having ADHD, though that's a really interesting, diverse, and complex take on his personality. I read him as just someone who could have a very intense level of focus on things he was interested in, and that's how he ended up one of the very top students at school. I felt this tied in with his childhood in that he was born very privileged (monetarily only), learns very young to be defiant (why he ended up in Gryffindor), and is guided instead by his own opinions. As he grew older, he saw no need to waste his time on things he had no interest in, instead focusing deeply on the things he was, like creating the Marauders Map, the 3 years he spent becoming an Animagus, etc.

Also, he's a dog (see below).

I've got to say, you're expanding my read on the HP characters. I never saw them the way you do before, and it's making me see how many different ways what JK wrote can be interpreted. And just how much available debate there is!

Just as an aside on HIV, as I dug deep into this while I was writing another story inspired by it, the history of HIV is an utter travesty in refusing to diagnose. The disease can be traced back to two decades before 1981. Around 1960, it was just an odd thing no one understood, but continuing through over 20 years, so many people died of it, and their cases are still not well recognised. HIV was very likely the cause of death of a great many people who were just swept aside and given the pejorative diagnosis "Junkie Flu" (as in, a sickness endured by intravenous drug users). I find such horror in the idea of a pandemic beginning in populations the world turns a blind eye to, or straight up condemns, only to care about the illness when it reaches so-called "innocents" – and, as a result, kills so many before and after then.

In this story, the only time I mention AIDS (I think…lol, this story is long) is part of that conversation Hermione and Sirius started to bond over, and where I first established the idea that there were pitfalls to Wizarding medicine – as they never came up with vaccines. Nor, actually, have they managed to develop the revolutionary treatments/preventatives we thankfully have today for HIV.

All this to say: it's so possible Orion could have caught HIV before the 80s. Even back to the year Sirius was born, 1959, it was possible to catch HIV – and potentially, even before then, though it likely would have been more SIV in type than HIV. In this story, I do use HIV as a way to differentiate between Muggle and Wizarding illnesses, though, so… It's not how it works in this story, but you're so right: Orion could well have caught HIV in the 60s and died from it. (Actually, how Orion dies is far less interesting in this story. Now I'm regretting that a bit lol!)

For the rest of your impression of Orion, I won't spoil any more by discussing how it might be similar/different just yet. I will say, though, that no, there is no evidence of incest in this story. Well, not beyond the fact that Orion and Walburga were second cousins. And that bit's just cannon.

Your argument for why Sirius isn't too old for Hermione is damn spot on! I see that too, and it will come up as an argument in this story. He's definitely not mentally as old as he is physically – 2 years being dead and 12 in Azkaban? Just take 14 years off his age! Then again, I also see Sirius as having been, in some ways, more mature than his years when he was imprisoned in his early 20s. Not in all ways, definitely, but in some. He'd been through a lot by then. And he dealt with so much when it came to Azkaban and its after-effects on him. That's part of what I wanted to reflect in his character: both him feeling he needs to be more grown up than he is, and him having wisdoms as a result of his horrible history.

In the books, there were times he came out with great advice that he didn't follow himself, such as when he was talking about Crouch and how Crouch treated Winky, and said something along the lines of "if you want to get the measure of a man, you look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals". Sirius says this, has that wisdom, yet he still treats Kreacher terribly. Of course, I also think this has a lot to do with the fact that he doesn't see his hatred of Kreacher in the same light. As far as Sirius is concerned, he hated Kreacher for very legitimate reasons.

I see Sirius as someone who can feel stuck, and, at the same time, often becomes more dedicated to a person because he has a duty to them. So I saw a difference between him being told by Dumbledore that he had to stay inside the house, he had no choice in the matter, and him ending up, against his wishes, having this responsibility for Hermione. This is my vague response to your comment about seeing Sirius as punishing himself and Hermione because he, once again, feels he has no control over a portion of his life. (I'm so trying not to spoil too much…)

To be totally honest with you, the Sirius in this story is largely inspired by an 8 year old black dog I love (really, that's how profound this story is haha: I really did, to an extent, base Sirius on a dog). This black dog I love is a big, gorgeous, energetic, guard dog. I can stick my hand in her mouth with no fear of her biting me. Not many other people can say that. They try it without her family there to tell her not to and they will lose their hands. She's driven to be a "good dog" because she has an intense devotion to her people. If I don't want her to bite, she really tries to not go guard-dog on a stranger. The more people she has to be devoted to, the happier she is. If she has a responsibility to a person, she doesn't feel stuck. She feels empowered. She will defend that person, at all costs. Because she likes not only fun and activity, she likes duty.

Sirius is far from as simple as a dog, but Sirius being compared to a dog was a big part of his characterisation in the books. He is often defined, in the books, by his loyalty, he breaks out of Azkaban, eats rats in a cave, to fulfil his duty to Harry – he's even described, in the 5th book, as cocking his head like a dog that's scented a rabbit (or something like that).

In truth, I've got complex feelings about how we've domesticated the crap out of dogs, and a lot of opinions there. But I did still find inspiration for Sirius in a big, black, beautiful dog.

Also, I see Sirius as having had the chance to say "no" to marrying Hermione. But you are right, she did save his life. And there's a debt owed there.

That adds an extra layer of complexity to it. I can definitely see that as being part of Sirius's decision. But, in addition, I see him as being very focused on having "duty" to people, even if, initially, he rejects it or doesn't do a good job of it. So even though he ended up stuck, having married Hermione, his role in protecting her is still a duty to him. And he is empowered by duty. Like he did when he fled Azkaban to protect Harry, he is capable of doing almost anything to fulfil his duties.

On Ron, oh man, you see it the same way I do! I see her continued fondness for Ron being largely familiarity, shared experiences, and friendship. But I cannot, for the life of me, understand why she'd marry him! Not only does she not at all seem impressed by him, or, as you say, appear to admire him, he also treats so many of her ideas like they're boring or silly! He puts her down. She puts him down! Neither of them lift each other up, or really seem to admire the other. That's not only a dysfunctional relationship, one where emotional and intellectual safety just doesn't exist, it also seemed to me one that would fizzle the moment the drama of war was behind them. I wanted a relationship for Hermione that would both inspire her, and challenge her. As well as a man that would be more emotionally available and understanding. And a relationship for Ron that wouldn't make the poor boy so intellectually inferior, because, really, Hermione does treat him like he's an idiot a lot.

I'm 29 (appropriate for this chapter haha). And living in a culture that is, in many areas, becoming more open about sex. But, despite that, there is a lot of insidious conservatism that sees sex as the "bad word" you shouldn't even say.

First of all: thank you for sharing your experiences! I think everyone's experience is something someone else can relate to. And that's why it's so important to share, to the degree you're comfortable with sharing: because someone else can see/hear it, and they can feel like they're not alone. Or they can share their own experience, and someone else will relate.

And when it comes to bringing up personal things, privacy to me means not revealing more to others than the person wants me to. I think what is a private topic should be defined by the person sharing it. I'm very happy to read something someone else writes me about their personal experience, if they wanted to share!

I relate strongly to what you say about growing up with a family that wouldn't be open about sex, for their own reasons; seeing sex as a rite of passage of sorts; not expecting to enjoy it at first; doing it because another person wanted/expected it; and looking back with the question of whether who you were then was actually able to consent. I see human sexuality as being incredibly complex – doubly so, because of both innate and societal reasons. You mention, broadly, the interplay between culture and the person, and its effect on the person. I think you're so right!

For myself, by the time I had my first time, I wasn't so much scared as… I felt cold. Unloved, used, uncared for, and just cold and dirty. It set me on what I'd call an unhealthy trajectory for a time. Fear came as a part of other things, and is just a muddle in my head I, honestly, partly used this story to unpack (though not in a way that's obvious from this story. I never wrote a biography, even in disguise, here. I just found parts of myself that related to things the characters experience – found ways to make things I thought, and felt, useful in the form of fiction).

I think laughing about sex, and not being very open about your feelings at the time, is very common. I do think a lot of people feel they can't be that open. For a lot of different reasons – and each person has their own reasons.

I too would be very wary of a loving relationship that began with rape! That book, as you describe it, sounds like it really does give the wrong message! For an audience that isn't impressionable, something like that could be a really interesting take on a relationship, if done sympathetically. But for impressionable people who are trying to understand sex and relationships, anything that pushes the idea, as you describe it, that "if he hurt me because he wanted me and it would be good because we would fall in love in the end" is very damaging. Honestly, this is one of the biggest reasons that I rate this story I'm writing as "very mature". It's not because it contains explicit sex. It's because the sexual relationship starts by being so hurtful to the characters. That doesn't mean that a sexual relationship that does the same to a real person will end up good. Almost always it goes the other way.

But of course it doesn't mean we should censor the imagination! I agree with you very much on this! I do think it means writers should be responsible, though. And perhaps I could be more so. I wonder if I could do more to state, in the preamble to this story, why I don't think it's for young people. I thought about this for a time, and part of why I didn't was because I didn't want to give too much of the story away. Instead, I chose to rely on how things play out between the characters, hoping what I wrote was responsible enough to avoid more warnings… I'm not so sure though, and as things progress, I hope you can tell me.

Now, I have to admit, I didn't get far with Game of Thrones, so I'm not entirely sure I'm reading what you're saying correctly. Let me know if not!

Hermione (spoiler) will take things into her own hands, to an extent. She will be helped by Sirius. But it is her who "takes charge" enough for things to change. I liked the idea of writing it that way, where it might seem like Sirius is the one who makes it better, but if you look more closely it's her who creates that environment for them.

You reflect my own experiences on period pain! Something with an opioid in it was the only thing that worked! And then I killed my periods with contraceptive methods, because I just couldn't keep dealing with it. I have huge respect for opioids, having seen the intense relief they provide in the acute setting. But you're right, chronic use is more harm than help. I've seen the other side, people trying to get off opioids, and that's so far from relief – instead it's just absolute hell.

But I know, so well, sitting there, ready to just take that codeine/paracetamol mix so I didn't have to feel that horrible period pain anymore. It gets in your way every goddamn month. It blows my mind that people lived in a time before there were so many different avenues to treat that pain, depending on what worked for you. Because that pain, if you get it bad, is just torture.

For me, I had a few different things that made period pain psychologically worse, in addition to the physical pain. Not the same things as Hermione experiences (back to this not being an autobiography in disguise), and partly due to other causes of abdominal pain on top of it, but it became additionally a psychological thing that added extra stress to the pain of periods. The way I saw it for Hermione was multi-fold. She likes to know what to expect, like how she approaches exams, but she has an irregular period that defies prediction. She's very uncomfortable with that part of her maturity (right now). She hates feeling weak, and being in pain, and debilitated because of it, makes her feel weak. And, a new one, she has to admit it to Sirius, which leaves her feeling exposed and vulnerable. So, yes, I agree completely: it is part of the unstable period she/they are going through!

And, by the way, while I'm writing this, my cat has just decided she's going to unseat me from my chair (she loves my chair, and thinks she's entitled to it) by squeezing onto it behind me and muscling her way onto the chair. Despite the fact that I weigh waaaayyyy more than she does. I now can't sit back, because she will be squished if I do. It seems she may have won this battle.

Marijuana does come into it at one point (not the way you expect, I don't think)! And Hermione is "taught" about sex! Your thoughts on it are not wrong! And I hope you enjoy those parts!

And now I must concede my chair to a greedy cat! Haha! Thank you very much for the discussion!