His office was warm, had been even cozier since she'd been coated in whatever shield he used. It whirled each time she spent a lesson here as if it were a muggle battery charging itself in the half Goblin's proximity. It was comforting. It was here sitting in his office across a desk of papers when the man leveled a hard look at her.

She'd only gotten a small way through her explanation of her current situation before he held up his hand to stop her. Her guardian called a dinner for them and a fresh pot of tea. It was while they waited Flitwick warned her to watch her letters. Flitwick looked displeased at a great number of things far beyond mail. Not with her exactly, but everything evolving around her. They hadn't even gotten through more than three increments of her story yet without some issue or other piquing him. The mail issue seemed to sideline him to a particularly thorny rabbit trail. But he seemed to think the more she was informed the better able she'd be to defend herself, so each time he saw a chance he paused her to do so.

"Examine each one in case your owl's been compromised. Once they take down the owl they get whatever it's holding. Just because the letter is sealed when it gets to you doesn't mean it hadn't been opened. Examine your post for anything late, signs of altered handwriting, less than crisp folding at the creases, or simply any missing responses."

"You think someone would steal my mail."

"Last week? No. Now? Yes."

Dread pooled in Hermione. She was in over her head. Since being informed just how deep she'd gotten herself Hermione clung to Flitwick, holing herself up in his office to avoid everyone and everything. The only solace to his words being the law firm hadn't attempted to contact her since she'd sent Sirius' memories via their eagle owl's latest trip north.

He stated rather sharply, "When he's motivated the Headmaster has been known to reroute a student's mail. Or did you think Mr. Potter never had a single child write to him after hearing his bedtime story?"

Flitwick warned her of so many things and Hermione began to understand the lack of advantages she had trying to work in this world. Her kind were foreigners, fresh talent and genes to mix and pass on, but they weren't actively integrated or accepted either. How had she not known about mail rerouting? Had she never had her mail rerouted simply because she hadn't been interesting before now?

Flitwick continued, "Luckily your law firm has an eagle owl. They're much hardier than the typical school owl."

It was with two more tea pots drained she got around to admitting she might have a man, or might just have a pet rat, kidnapped and hidden under her bed.

"Do you think I should take it out and check if its an animagus? Is there a spell for that? Do you think I should move it somewhere more secure?"

Thus Flitwick taught her a ward which he explained, "The headmaster himself might have a hard time sensing. You'll place it around your special metal box and no girl, don't so much as move that thing or think of it until next Tuesday. Increased activity will only draw more attention. Just keep casting the body bind daily to keep the rat from needing to use the facilities. Can't have your dorm stinking."

Hermione needed to talk with Black, but couldn't dredge up the routine or confidence to sneak out till early Saturday morning. The day she knew even the majority of professors slept in. She dressed as if she were going for one of her jogs and her dormmates didn't do more than give her a bleary eye on the way out. 6:00 in the Scottish highlands, even in April, had her shivering. Incentivized, the moment she ducked into the near frozen Honeydukes passage she did kick up a jog. If she weren't putting on appearances she'd have brought her winter coat. Unfortunately, a flick of her wrist and a subsequent warming charm were all she'd risk.

She was normal, bookish, law abiding Hermione Granger on a health kick. Jogging was such a muggle activity it did spectacular things for her image. Both McGonagall and the Headmaster had seen her during the week running around the grounds and after the first few times they hadn't shown up again. Her stamina had improved drastically due to "Flitwick Dodging" and what Ron had taken to calling her "sudden interest in running" for her often present trainers and slim fitted workout slacks. Her muggle attire looked "banging" as the twins so charitably informed. George Weasley whistled and offered to be her running buddy, but backpedaled on his flirtatious invitation the moment she mentioned the times. Instead promising her they'd meet up that summer at a decent hour.

Laughing at him she offered to instead go dancing with him and Fred. The idea had left the two red heads with a host of new party thoughts and at the moment were working out how to sneak the entirety of fifth through seventh year Gryffindors out the castle, to Hogsmeade and to London via Night Bus. George stated, "Granger we have to do something productive with the end of our OWL year. No slouching here."

Yesterday Flitwick had spent a significant part of his Friday evening teaching her how to identify and remove tracking charms, so now that was done she felt free. A bit gleeful, she shot down the passage and up through the Hogsmeade sweets shop. Notice-me-not and stealth spells firmly in place not a single Hogsmeade early riser turned her way. Her heals silenced as they scuffed against cobbles. In the dim morning light Black's field of flowers and the centuries old stone ruins were filtered into a scene of something soft and archaic. The stones rose above her, their vegetation and animals quiet with a sudden lack of breeze this close to the cliff. Passing the wardline she felt her fear ease and she went faster, her chest feeling light and happy for the first time in days.

Black said if she needed to contact him she should go to the base of the Mountains, follow the road till it turned to a trail. At the trail's fork take a left, then a right, and there she'd see a sheer cliff above an outcropping with many openings in the dark grey bedrock. His was one of the openings in the middle. Apart of her guardian's other lectures, Flitwick warned her never to send an owl to the convict, or any convict. Anything labeled to be sent to "Sirius Black" in the postal service was rigged to go straight to the aurors, the person attaching such a document to a postal owl would find themselves with a tracking charm stuck to them. The things she didn't know filled libraries she'd eagerly spend the rest of her life searching through. Hermione mused on this, happy thoughts flitting in and out as flowers brushed her legs. Their sweet and bitter scents tussled and floating around her.

Out the village and up the mountain road she went. Up to where the cliff turned sheer, then searching the various openings and inlets before picking one and shooting up in a levitation assisted jump.

She burst through the cave entrance, half on accident as Hermione hadn't believed the first one she tried would actually be his, and practically stumbled on a transfigured camping futon and a lump of blankets. Sirius Black sat up, shirtless and pointing a wand at her. Her mouth ran off on her. Apparently too excited and slightly too scared to stop herself.

"Where'd you get a wand anyway?" She huffed, breath hitching at a stiff and unpolished bit of wood now stabbing the junction between her jaw and neck.

"They keep a box of them in the Azkaban Lead Office. Couldn't find mine, but this one is pretty close."

Hermione found herself facing bare pectorals. She was staring at his chest. The tattoos. The muscles. He wasn't nearly as thin as the prophet speculated. His wand lowered, but just a bit. He didn't seem certain it was her. Not till her next question.

"I didn't know tattoos could move."

His wand lowered further. Grey eyes trailed hers, then moved to see her joggers. His lips twitched but he was well mannered enough not to say anything, which is more than what happened with any of the Weasleys. Even Ginny's eyes went wide at the close fit training slacks before blurting out, "I can see your bum cheeks!" The second year girl had promptly turned as red as her hair. Clearly growing up in an old fashioned wizard home where the only other woman in the house wore thick matronly skirts wasn't doing any wonders for the women's liberation front. Hermione then wondered how many of the Weasley boys half expected their dates to become similar house wives, 19th century clothes included.

Sirius Black wasn't so easily sidetracked. He hadn't let her any farther in the cave. The tone of voice not quite friendly.

"Hermione Granger when was the first time you met a grim?" His question came quick and demanding.

Her brows furrowed. Now she wasn't running anymore her body cooled and with it her mind went a little sluggish. The warmth fleeing with damp of early spring clinging to the cave's stone walls. Her breath came out visible between them. His wand hadn't lowered entirely, now languid and pointed at her ribs.

"The first time... This fall. I was with Crookshanks. Ron had just gone off and tried to attack him. I left..." She left crying. Going to the lake. "The grim was by the lake."

Sirius Black lowered his arm. "That's my animagus form. That's why I used it as a security question. Anyone who legilemized your mind recently wouldn't have dug that far back. It's much too tedious to dig through months worth of memories without locking the participant up in an interrogation room."

Her eyes closed, "The Headmaster did try, briefly, at breakfast this week. It was incredibly lucky I'd just asked Flitwick to be my magical guardian. He shielded for me. He's..." She tried to think of a word for the forceful man who hoarded and snapped like a dragon over treasure. "He's protective."

"Good, that's good." Black ran his wand and hand through sleep mussed hair. It seemed a habit of his. "I worried you were alone."

"I think it saved my life. The lawyers had just written back and the rat, or human, I kidnapped is warded under my bed. If they got it before this Tuesday... I don't think things would have turned out well."

"I'll have to thank Flitwick then. I'm assuming he knows?"

She nodded. Oh and that had been the start of the new lecture series which had become her life. If Hermione thought she'd a pile of reference texts to get through before, it was nothing on the stack she'd now been assigned. Hermione would be lying if she didn't love it.

"He's a good person. Nice some things don't change." There wasn't any bitterness in Black's statement, more a weight born from an unpleasant lifetime. Hermione supposed if he had a lot of good people he knew Black probably wouldn't be depending on her. It was this depressing sort of thought chugging through her mind as she shivered. The workout clothes her mum sent were better suited for the temperate southern side of the isles. Here the stiff breeze cut right through them.

She wasn't expecting him to move suddenly. He tossed a blanket at her, which she caught after getting a mouth full of it.

"What?"

"Put it on or come here where it's warm."

If that was a threat she was going to ignore it. Hermione wasn't as scared or intimidated as she had been, not if he was going to keep showing her flowers and giving her blankets. So her mind processed the costs and benefits of her next move, finally deciding it'd be done. Hermione wrapped his blanket around her then sat prim on the edge of the camping futon.

If his raised eyebrows were any indication he hadn't expected her to take the latter offer. Feeling a bit snarky she leaned in just ever so much. The reaction she got to this fell somewhere between shock and alarm. This was the first time she'd willingly been near him and she'd bet her entire summer earnings and college savings that she was the first one in 12 years and 10 months. She'd decided if he needed to remember what normal interactions were like it'd best start with her. It'd only help him come time for the trial. An event which if she didn't help him get somewhat accustomed might be utterly overwhelming.

Oh this transfigured futon was warm. Snuggling into the offered blanket and glorifying this to be a superb idea Hermione pushed forwards, "I came to see you."

She wanted to start this and future conversations off lighter than they had been before. This was like a test run he could mess up if he needed and there wouldn't be any repercussions. He clearly did not have a clue to what she was doing. His wary look at her invading his space and chatting didn't sit at all comfortably on the man. It was a change, but people might reach out for his hand or pat his arm at the trial and he'd be better off if he didn't hex everyone who tried.

"You're here early." His fingers rubbed his eyes and grazed down the scruff starting to grow back on his jaw.

"I am. You'll find I'm rather efficient when I need to be." This fact compounded on one of her many secrets, the one which happened to be dangling around her neck, the golden device tied tight with her sports tops. "And I apologize about the hour. It was one of the few times I was almost certain not to be followed."

He took a long few minutes, sitting next to her on his absconded camping futon and looking above her head to the wall slick with morning dew. It took another few minutes before he seemed to realize she wanted a response. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Hermione wondered if a body could get so used to silence and isolation to the point it literally rewired itself in order to keep the mind sane and well throughout the horrible experience.

She informed him, "It's done." Purposefully vague, hoping to get him talking again. Which seemed easy enough if he was threatened, to respond accordingly, but not so easy any other time.

He looked down at her, brow furrowing, "I... What were we talking about? What's done?"

"The lawyers received your memories." Her tone gentled at the look on his face. Had he forgotten he gave them to her? If so, she needed to make an effort to visit him more often. Effects of longterm isolation may in some cases not be reversible, but if there was a chance social exposure could help she needed to try. This was the man who brought her to a field of flowers.

He nodded his head, engaging back with her. His eyes and attention became a bit more focused.

Hermione continued, "They're assessing them. I'll be going to the DMLE on Tuesday. Signing papers on your behalf." Or something an ominous thought supplied.

She pressed on, "For each of these things the firm said they tracked hours. I... I don't know if I have enough... I might be able to swing it, but I'm not sure."

Hermione waited to see if he'd reply. He did.

"What's wrong?"

Having to ask was uncomfortable for her, but not addressing the concern would be worse. No, if he remembered then she had to ask. He still seemed clear and here in the moment.

"Did your family have some sort of money left? Because the firm declared themselves on retainer and they're not stinting. Hagrid's case was relatively cheap, maybe because how simple it is, but with yours they seem to be employing the whole office."

"Your college savings don't cover it?"

She looked at him. Despairing, "Representing you vs Hagrid are two different matters."

"I was joking," His voice soft.

"Ah, joking is good. You should try it more often. If you feel up to it. Or just talking about inconsequential things, that's nice too ya?"

He nodded. "I'll try. It used to come easy to me. Now..." He rubbed his eyes again. His large hand taking up the span of his face and covering it.

Hermione wondered if she should reach out for him, but decided this was enough for today. He already was so much better than the first day she'd seen him, when he was wild and lost and abducted her from the street on a somewhat hallucinated bit of paranoia.

O for the next half hour she told him about her first forays into pranking the Weasley twins, about how Draco Malfoy's face squished and complained when his stray ingredients couldn't find their way into her cauldron. She asked what Black's favorite class was in Hogwarts. What his favorite part of Auror training had been.

By the time she was standing to leave he stopped her. Turning she found his eyes as sharp and present as they'd ever been. Geez from this angle he was tall. His wand twirled lazily between his fingers as he formed his thoughts.

"About what you said. The money."

Hermione flushed, remembering she was embarrassed about that. "Ugh, yes I can make the first one or two payments probably, but after those I'm not sure."

"You're muggleborn right?"

Her brows furrowed, "Yes."

"I didn't realize you wouldn't know. I declared you Speaker of the House of Black. If you pushed their payment off a year it wouldn't be odd, they know the House vaults will pay them eventually. If they are pushing you they shouldn't. Don't feel pressured, just push them back and say your accountants will deal with it later."

Hermione's next breath crawled its way up and out of her throat. The stress she'd been holding inside herself since she'd last been in this cave, it released a bit further. She had been concerned with the money. Hermione held the blanket closer to herself. He seemed lost in thought. Hermione realized she'd been correct in her previous guess. This conversation may well be the most normal, engaging one he'd experienced this past decade. Just as she practiced wandless charms with Flitwick, this was a practice session and Black seemed to be laboring under its difficulty. Another few minutes went by before he continued.

"Thank you." He wasn't looking at her, but she heard him all the same. "I don't think I said that yet. When is the department expecting you?"

"Tuesday morn. Three days from now. I'm," She paused. Lowering her eyelashes and focusing on the tight weave of the blanket she forced herself to say it, "I'm scared. I think I might just spend the next few days burying myself in law books so I know what to expect."

"That's not a bad idea."

"Really?"

"The DMLE has good people, but I don't trust the Ministry as a whole. I think most smart people don't. Make sure to say as little as possible without evading questions directly."

He seemed to have moments like this, where his mind broke through its fog and came out with startling clarity.

She gave a sharp nod. "I can do that." She really hoped she could.