AN: Sorry for the long break from this story. As I said from the prologue, The Remains was my main focus until it was finished, but now that it is, I will be updating this one much more frequently! Hope you enjoy!

Also, I am sorry if anyone actually from Russia is reading this, and I got anything incorrect about the geography or anything. Feel free to PM me and let me know! Otherwise I am going to continue to have fun with my creative liberties;)

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything!

Part Two: Graphorn

Hermione woke up the next morning in pain, but determined.

If asked to describe the pain, she would say that it was like every single one of her nerve endings were at the top of her skin. Light touches felt like razor blades and her clothes lightly touching her skin all night had pushed her to sleep in the bare minimum on the wooden floor. Pressure didn't hurt as much.

When Ginny came to wake her for breakfast, she was laying on her stomach in the middle of the floor in just her knickers.

Ginny just stood there opening and closing her mouth in confusion for nearly an entire minute.

"Hermione?" She finally asked.

When Harry came up behind her and looked over her shoulder, he immediately turned around to go back downstairs.

"Yeah, this looks like a you thing, Gin."

Sirius came out of his room then in just his pajama bottoms and glanced over Ginny's shoulder as well.

"What is she doing?" He asked with a frown.

Ginny shrugged. "Don't know. Hasn't moved an inch."

They both stood there staring at Hermione with their heads cocked to the side.

"Are you okay, kitten?"

"My clothes hurt," she said plainly.

Ginny lips twitched downward, and she turned to follow Harry down the stairs.

"This actually looks like a you thing, Sirius," she mimicked her fiance's words.

Sirius's frown deepened further before he sighed and took a step into the room. If Hermione's back wasn't moving up and down with her deep breaths, he would honestly think she was dead. He took a moment to study the runes covering her bare back, and for the first time in his life, found himself wishing he'd taken Ancient Runes at Hogwarts. There were so many of them, that he'd bargain they filled more space than even his tattoos. He took a deep breath.

"Why do your clothes hurt?"

Her words were muffled against the ground as she explained to him what her skin felt like.

"Tight clothes, then?"

She lifted her head to look up at him and gave him a thoughtful expression. "I suppose."

"Where are your clothes?"

She moved her head less than an inch in a general direction, and he quickly found the magically expanded bag. After digging around in it for a few minutes with no help from the prone witch, he finally found something that might be suitable.

"Okay, how are we going to do this?" His voice held mild trepidation. He'd meant it when he saw her after coming out of the veil and said that she'd aged well. It'd been a long time since he'd seen a witch that perfect.

Hermione held a hand out and hissed when he placed the bundle there.

She went to lift herself up, but when she saw that Sirius wasn't moving she flushed. "Turn around," she insisted.

He smirked at her before spinning, and he listened to her quiet groans as she pushed herself up.

A few seconds later she squeaked and thumped him on the head.

"Really, Sirius!"

He resisted turning around all the way up until a frilly mesh bra was dangling right in front of his eyes. He smirked at his own transfiguration skills.

"Don't like it, kitten?"

Hermione, as a matter of pride, left it hanging and demanded he fix it himself.

"Are you sure? Based on what you were wearing yesterday, I thought this would suit you."

"Ginny bought that for me!" Hermione could feel her entire body heating up. "Never mind, I'll do it myself."

She pulled it back and tried to cancel the transfiguration, but it didn't work. The typically gentle hum of her magic felt like it was fluttering in and out of existence like a small candle being held in a breeze.

She sucked up her pride and held it in front of him again.
"I need you to do it," she whispered.

Sirius went to argue, but then he heard her sniffle and realized her magic must not be working again. He sighed and waved his wand in front of it.

When it was tugged angrily back behind him, he sighed. "Hermione, you've made a grave mistake. You would've looked incredible in that."

When she let out a watery laugh, he grinned.

When they finally made it down for breakfast Hermione was leaning heavily on Sirius.

Harry didn't even bother hiding how concerned he was at the image of Hermione struggling just to drop herself down into the chair. How were they supposed to travel through the mountains if Hermione could barely walk by herself to breakfast? Sirius must've been thinking the same thing based on the look he turned to Harry.

Hermione tried to muster a cheerful smile, but it dropped when she spotted the Prophet sitting in the middle of the table.

Right there on the front cover was a moving picture of the moment Sirius wrapped his arm around her to pull her towards the lifts. She gasped and snatched the paper, her eyes scanning over the article.

"That cow!" Hermione was seething, and her hands trembled when she threw the paper and growled, "Biggest slag of the Wizarding World gets desperate enough to bring a boyfriend back from the dead! That's what she's saying about me!"

Sirius investigated the paper himself.

"I'm going to have to pay her a visit when we get back," Hermione hissed.

"She called me your boyfriend," Sirius smirked.

"She called me a slag!"

Harry sighed and pushed her plate closer to her. "Just eat your breakfast, Hermione."

The meal crawled by slowly as the three occupants watched Hermione's energy slowly deplete, and her food just get pushed around the plate. By the time their portkey was set to go off in just barely ten minutes, Hermione had barely taken two bites of the large meal Harry had cooked, and she looked like she could barely hold herself up in the chair.

Sirius was seriously concerned for exactly how they would be able to make it to the prison at all with how things were currently going.

With the help of Ginny, Hermione stood and donned a zip-up muggle hiking jacket as well as a pair of thick boots. Sirius earlier had handed her a tight pair of work out leggings as well as a tight long-sleeve top.

Ginny, in the last few minutes before the portkey, braided Hermione's hair into a tight french braid, so that the curls would be out of the way. Right before they were set to leave, Ginny for the first time since Hermione showed up the previous morning, looked at her friend with a vulnerable and worried expression. Ginny was one of the toughest people Hermione knew. Fear and concern were not something she often showed, so to see it on her face made the situation seem all that grimmer. Ginny grabbed her up in a tight hug and sniffled into Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione weakly wrapped her own arms around her friend and held her closely.

"It's going to be fine, Gin. You'll see. We'll be back before you know it." The reassurances sounded frail even to her own ears.

Ginny pushed away from her then and angrily wiped her eyes. She glared at Hermione and said strongly, "You better. You're my Maid of Honor, you great swot." She pressed a smacking kiss to Hermione's forehead and ignored the way Hermione flinched away from the touch. Her glare turned on Sirius then and she said menacingly, "You bring her home, Sirius, or there will be hell to pay."

Harry grimaced and quietly admonished, "Ginny…"

When her glare turned on her fiance, Harry sighed before turning and wrapping Hermione in a quick embrace.

"Be safe, Hermione. Try not to do anything too rash."

Harry Potter telling Hermione Granger not to be rash would have been laughable in most situations, but Hermione couldn't find it in herself to do so.

"Kitten, it's time to go," Sirius said regretfully.

Hermione pulled away from Harry and wiped her eyes. "Right then."

She turned towards Sirius and tried to give him a reassuring smile. "It will be fine. We'll be fine."

His lips thinned, but he gave a jerky nod nonetheless. Right as her fingers touched the small tea-cup that was their portkey, a blue flash went through the room, and they were gone.

The first thing Hermione noticed when they landed, was that international portkeys in her condition were a very bad, truly terrible, idea. She collapsed on her knees in the cold dirt, and braced herself on her palms. She could feel the meager amount of breakfast she'd managed to eat roiling in her stomach in a manner that was less than pleasant. One of her hands shakily made its way up to cover her mouth, and she took a few deep breaths to quell the nausea.

A few seconds later, she opened her eyes and looked at Sirius who was standing in front of her watching her in concern.

Her hand twitched towards him, but before she could even ask, he was reaching down and pulling her up. When she was standing on her feet again and the world had stopped spinning she looked around her. They seemed to have landed in some kind of valley. Surrounding them on all sides were mountain tops with snow-covered peaks, and maybe ten paces out in every direction there was dense forest.

"Excellent," Hermione mumbled to herself as Sirius made to pull out the map. Without even thinking, she latched onto his elbow to help keep herself steady.

When the map was open Sirius magiced it to levitate in front of them, and they watched as the Wizarding map slowly expanded until it was a three-dimensional map that showed all of the terrain. Hermione marveled at the magic, as Sirius started to speak.

"Okay, so the Ministry port-key has dropped us here."

Sirius pulled out a muggle pen that she had given him yesterday, and marked a certain clearing in an identical looking Valley.

"Now we just have to get here."

He pointed to where Florenti had marked an empty clearing just a few inches away on the map, but just at the bottom of Mount Konstantinov Kamen as he had said.

Hermione nodded in understanding and said, "So we head South?"

Sirius's free hand landed on hers on his elbow, and he nodded. "Yes. Looks to be about a days journey by broom. I expect we'll get there sometime in the night."

Hermione sighed and then did her best to mentally prepare herself for the physical journey ahead. They'd decided the night before that attempting to apparate to an unfamiliar location was too risky based on multiple factors. Not only was Hermione to weak to handle multiple apparitions, but their time constraints didn't exactly allow for recovery time should they splinch themselves during their efforts. That's when Harry had brought up flying.

Hermione had paled and protested vehemently, but Sirius, Ginny, and Harry had all insisted that it was the least risky and most time-efficient option available to them. Plus, Sirius had made a cheeky comment about not letting her fall.

She watched him pull a broom from the bag she had magically expanded for him. Harry had given him his old broom from his Hogwarts days, and as Hermione stared at it, she was hit with a few memories. Sirius put the map away before turning to look at her.

"Ready?"

She blanched and said quietly, "You know, I thought you had jinxed that broom to kill Harry in our third year."

Sirius grinned at her and yanked on one of her curls that had pulled free when they had portkeyed. It was such a brotherly affectionate thing to do that Hermione felt something drop in her chest. There was no doubt in her mind that she found the man she had brought back from the veil devastatingly handsome. He was thirty-six, but probably one of the youngest looking thirty-six year olds she knew. The way his grey eyes sparkled at her under the Russian noon-sun in that moment had her heart skipping beats and left her feeling infinitesimally more weak. Not good.

"I'm glad someone has looked out for him in my absence, kitten," his voice had a husky quality to it from the sheer amount of muggle cigarettes he had smoked in the three years he'd been out of Azkaban, and though Hermione detested the vice, the effect it had on his voice was pleasant to say the least.

She smiled up at him nervously before her eyes turned back to the broom. "Right then," she managed to choke out which earned an odd look from Sirius. "Let's do this."

She put on as brave a face as she could manage when Sirius mounted the broom and held his hand out to her, but as soon as was seated herself, that broke like a dam and she was shaking despite herself.

"I meant it when I said I wouldn't let you fall," Sirius rasped from slightly above her.

She nodded to assure herself before slowly pulling herself up to be seated in front of him. She was sitting rigidly with a few inches of space between them and a death grip on the handle in front of her when Sirius chuckled to himself and wrapped one of his large hands around her waist to pull her back to him. She gasped when her back was pressed fully into his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist to hold the broom in front of her.

"You'll never last the whole trip like that, kitten. Just let me hold you."

She sat tensely for another moment as they hovered a few feet above the ground before relaxing fully against him. She was so tired already, and their day had barely begun.

Before he kicked off Sirius pressed an affectionate kiss to the back of her head and whispered, "Nothing fancy. I'm just going to fly us straight there."

She sighed before letting her head fall to rest against one of his collarbones and shutting her eyes. "Thank you, Sirius."

She felt him kick-off, but with her eyes shut tight, and his arms wrapped around her, it wasn't nearly as terrifying as any of her other experiences with flying.

The cold air on her prickling skin felt nice and provided a mild relief to the aches coarsing through her body, and just a couple hours into the silent flight, she found herself, by some sort of miracle, drifting off against him.

Sirius hadn't even known how far they had flown. He'd checked the map periodically where he'd charmed the small dot that he'd drawn to follow their location just as the Marauder's map had done. The small witch in front of him had fallen asleep early in the day, and just a few hours after that, around five p.m. the sun set over the trees. Being so close to the arctic circle left the sun rising and setting at odd hours, but even though it was distinguishably darker, the early September sky seemed to be trapped in twilight. When it slowly got slightly darker, he had checked the map to see that they were maybe only another hour away from the dot marking Florenti's aunt's location.

Flying in the open air like this was a welcome reprieve to the swirling void that he had experienced for the past five years.

The chaotic nature of his first two days back in the living world left no room for contemplation. His primary focus had been the witch in front of him and whatever dark and absolutely mad magic she had used to give him this second chance at life. He hadn't had time to think about Moony or any grief because all he could think about was how for the first time in his life, he'd been given a chance to live life. Truly live life. But with this chance, came the cold and harsh reality that living his life might very well cause the end of the young and brilliant one currently cradled in his arms. And as much as he wanted this chance, he wanted his godson's happiness more.

That was what he had contemplated for the endless amount of time Hermione seemed to sleep as they flew through the air. He calculated his own willingness to give it all up if it meant she would live, and he realized with certainty that he would do it in a heartbeat.

What a tease.

Just a few weeks of living and then he'd just pop out of existence again. He'd go back to that endless and dark place where you weren't much of anything. Hardly sentient and hardly a soul at all. It was maddening. Sirius's entire existence was maddening.

Just over forty-five minutes later, billowing smoke could be seen in the moonlight just above the tree line. Sirius, in his eagerness to get off the broom, leant down to increase speed. In doing this, he unknowingly jostled Hermione who then woke up with a start.

He felt her twitch in front of him before she let out a low moan of pain and shut her eyes again.

"Hold on. Almost there," he said loudly over the rushing wind.

One of her small hands reached up to grip him tightly on his forearm, and he tried to suppress the feelings that seemed to be popping up every time she touched him. He figured it was just his luck that he would develop any sort of affection for such a strictly forbidden witch.

Before he knew it, the small and clearly ancient cottage was coming into view in front of them.

It was in the middle of the small clearing and appeared to be completely isolated from any other people. In their entire journey over the forest, Sirius hadn't seen a single person or structure. Suddenly, his quip to Florenti about the vastness of the Ural Mountains seemed way too true.

Hermione's fingers gripped his light jacket impossibly tighter as he descended before she reluctantly released him so that he could dismount. His legs were wobbly and his muscles ached, but he still lifted the witch from the broom upon seeing her hesitation to get down herself. The burn in his muscles from lifting her was a silent reprieve from the hours of stationary strain.

Once they were both steadily on their feet with the broom put away, Sirius pulled out the map one last time and saw that they were directly on top of the place Florenti had marked.

The cottage from the outside looked to be just one square of grey stone and a cobbled roof. In the darkness, Sirius could see just the flickering of orange light from the fire sure to be lit inside, and the steady stream of smoke billowing from the crooked chimney. It was maybe the same size as the shrieking shack and just as run down.

Sirius stared on in trepidation as he pulled Hermione firmly to his side. Florenti had told them that his aunt was kind, and always accepted visitors, but what he saw in front of him more resembled an evil witch's cottage in a fairy tale than a kind woman expecting visitors. The eerie sounds emitting from the dense forest around them did nothing to calm his nerves.

"Sirius?" Hermione's sleepy and confused voice broke his revery, and he glanced down at her with a comforting smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

"I guess beggars can't be choosers, huh love?"

She shivered against him, and he watched her carefully as her eyes darted from him to the cottage in front of them. Her eyes were bleary and slightly dazed from what he assumed was a pain induced sleep, and her cheeks were flushed from her unbreakable fever. After a few moments of observation, her eyes looked back up to his, and she said lightly, "Maybe it's nicer on the inside?"

Just then, the wooden door to the cottage creaked open and a lumos lit wand slipped out of the small crack. When an older face followed it and studied them in the darkness, Sirius felt Hermione sink even closer to him.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Her voice was strong and heavily accented. It echoed across the ten pace distance between them like a muggle shotgun backfiring.

Hermione was the first to react. She stumbled slowly closer to the voice, and Sirius followed her like they were magnetized together. As soon as she was close enough, Hermione held out a tremor induced hand and said pleasantly, "Hello, you must be Florenti's aunt. My name is Hermione."

The witch's dark eyes darted down to the hand before flying back up to stare directly at Sirius over Hermione's shoulder. He watched as the older woman's gaze followed Sirius arm to the place it lay gripped on Hermione's waist before going back up to stare at Hermione's slightly strained smile.

"I know who you are, child. This man, however, I do not know. Come in."

She had a brash way of speaking that left Sirius feeling minorly spooked, but he followed Hermione in through the doorway nonetheless. Inside looked very much as one would guess upon seeing the exterior. It was a small home with just a single room. In the corner rested a made-up bed, and in the middle of the room was a small table with two chairs sitting at it. There was a small kitchenette close to the door, and directly across from the entrance was a crackling fireplace.

Sirius watched as the woman bustled to the kitchenette and started to prepare a pot of tea.

"My name is Sasha Petrov." She glanced up at where the two stood stiffly close to the door before turning back to the tea and adding, "You two may call me Tetya Sasha."

Sirius remembered Florenti referring to her as Tetya Sasha on more than one occasion, and justly assumed that Tetya was Russian for Aunt. The insistence of the casual address seemed out of character based on what he'd observed, but he nodded anyway.

Once tea had been made, Tetya Sasha hurded Hermione to sit in one of the creaky wooden chairs before taking the seat across from her herself.

Sirius took a moment to really look at the woman in the hue of the crackling fire.

Tetya Sasha had a distinctly sad face, with wrinkles at the corners of her mouth and a permanently haunted expression. She looked like Florenti with her salt and pepper hair and dark eyes, but Sirius could tell she was a woman touched by somber experiences. It was like there was a physical weight bearing down on the woman.

Hermione delicately sipped her tea, and the three sat in an uncomfortable silence before Sasha broke it again.

"You're hungry, no?"

She didn't even wait for a response before moving to a pot that was sitting on the stove and slowly spooning two large helpings of what looked to be some kind of beef stew. When she returned to the table she handed one bowl to Hermione and the other to Sirius.

Sirius transfigured an empty candle holder into a chair and took a seat beside Hermione.

"Who are you?" Sasha's voice cut through right as Sirius had spooned the first bite of stew into his mouth.

He swallowed his bite before saying, "Sirius Black."

The woman's eyes flashed in recognition, and he watched as she stood and made her way to a small bookcase on one of the walls. She returned and placed a copy of the Daily Prophet from just that morning on the table between them. Her wrinkled finger landed on the large picture, and Hermione made a sound of disgust at the article.

"You were dead, no?"

Sirius flinched under her unwavering gaze and said, "Yes," before glancing at the downcast eyes of the witch beside him. He watched as she moved her spoon around before leaning down and saying quietly, "Eat, kitten."

Sasha studied Hermione quietly as Sirius whispered in her ear small encouragements about the food. Hermione was pale besides the unnaturally deep flush still painted across her cheeks, and the tremors still shaking her body, left the spoon clinking often against the simple bowl.

"My Florenti said you are dying." Hermione's eyes widened, and she pulled away from Sirius to look up at Sasha. "He say you do some kind of spell that weakened you." The woman paused before her eyes darted to Sirius. He could see the burning curiosity building in her gaze. "For him." At that last word, she jerked her head in Sirius's direction before tilting her head thoughtfully. After a moment she turned back to the deathly pale Hermione. Sirius could sense an underlying bitterness in her tone that he couldn't quite understand. Sasha continued, "Florenti is fond of you. You are mentioned in every letter he sends home. Says you are the sun and stars of British Ministry."

Hermione averted her eyes to the floor beside her, and Sirius shifted uncomfortably. Sasha's disdain for Sirius made sense then. He'd been correct in assuming that Florenti's affections for Hermione ran deeper than she knew, and based on Hermione's blatant discomfort, the feeling was not mutual.

"Florenti has been very kind to me." Hermione paused before making eye-contact with the woman and saying carefully, "He is a very dear friend."

Sirius watched as Sasha's eyes grew disheartened and the sadness that had been seeping through the cracks of her mannerisms was suddenly more apparent. "I see," she said quietly.

Sasha stood then and picked up their empty tea-cups to move them to the sink.

"I will leave you to your meals now. It is nearly two in the morning. The sun will rise in just a couple hours. You will have to share the bed."

To Sirius's complete surprise, Sasha pulled out her wand and waved it over what appeared to be just an empty space on the floor, but instead, a cellar door came into existence. She opened the creaking iron hatch and started to take steps down into what must have been a basement. She paused when just her head peeked out from the floorboards.

"I will wake you in morning to show you location of prison." With that, she was gone and the hatch was shut firmly behind her.

Sirius's eyes traveled slowly back to Hermione, and he watched as she took a couple more bites of the stew before setting the spoon down with a sigh.

Once he was done with his own meal, he stood and quickly charmed the dishes clean before placing them back in one of the old cabinets. He walked over to Hermione and stood beside her chair. Her eyes were drooping with fatigue despite the copious amounts of sleep she'd gotten on the broom, and Sirius was feeling much the same. He crouched down so that he was right in front of her and gently tugged on one of her curls.

"You can have the bed, kitten."

Her eyes snapped open at that, and she looked at the small full sized bed in the corner. "Don't be silly, Sirius. It's big enough for the both of us."

He sucked in a harsh breath at that, and glanced nervously over her shoulder at what was sure to be a cramped bed for two people. It had been twenty years since he'd shared a bed with anyone, let alone a pretty witch. Fifteen if you didn't count the years he'd technically been dead. He looked back to her to see her blinking earnestly at him with those big brown eyes.

It was hard to separate the witch in front of him with the bushy haired girl he'd known before. She'd been bookish and self-righteous, and he'd liked her alright, if only for the reason that she was entirely too amusing when riled up. What he remembered most of all, was her never-ending loyalty to his godson. There was no doubt in his mind that Hermione had changed from that innocent sixteen-year-old he'd last seen taking a stand with Harry in the Department of Mysteries. He'd noticed the most obvious changes as soon as he'd fallen out of the veil to the sight of her in her muggle work attire.

Now though, he could see that more than just her physical appearance had changed. Things had happened to her in the war during his absence. Things that warranted her to be the muggleborn sweetheart of all of Wizarding Society. Things that made him have a newfound adoration and respect for her.

Looking at her now, as she stared at him honestly, and offered him the bed despite the fact that she was quite likely dying, made him realize that there were so many things about this new Hermione that he didn't know. Things he found he would very much like to learn. He found himself being drawn to her in an inexplicable manner. He'd felt the pull the night before at the party, and he'd felt it when she'd charged ahead to introduce herself to Florenti's aunt. He wondered if it had to do with whatever spell she'd used, or if it was just his lingering feelings of loneliness that he had never been able to shake off following Azkaban. Either way, these were feelings he didn't know how to manage in their circumstances.

"Alright then," he finally managed before helping her stand and leading her to the edge of the bed.

He then carefully took her boots and jacket off, and helped her to undo her braid. Once she had collapsed back and was curled with her back to the wall on the far side, Sirius found himself nervous for the first time when it came to the act of taking off his clothes.

He took off his muggle jeans and jacket quickly before pulling off his t-shirt with it. He didn't think she would appreciate him climbing in after her in just his boxers, so he accioed a pair of sleep pants from his bag that he'd thought to pack at the last minute and slipped them on.

When he finally did climb in after her, he lay stiffly on his back with his eyes focused on the slats of the ceiling. It took all his willpower not to reach out and lay a hand on her to ensure she was there. She was young, and his god-sons best friend. He could imagine that any touching initiated by him while in a bed could only be seen as creepy and unsolicited. It was different when they were standing or on a broom, but her being next to him in a bed felt like a new level of intimacy that he wasn't prepared for.

He was still fighting the urge to reach out for her when he felt her shift closer to him before simply wrapping her fingers around his bare bicep laying between them. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and placed his free hand on top of hers.

"Good night, Sirius," she whispered into the shadows of the cottage. He looked over at her still feverish face and watched as the light from the fireplace flickered across her delicate features. When he wanted to reach out and caress her cheek he realized that he was in deep trouble. He settled for instead picking her hand up and placing a chaste kiss on her palm before returning it to his own arm.

"Night, kitten."

AN: Hope you guys are enjoying this story. Again, sorry about the wait, but this story is my primary focus from now on, so enjoy!

Thanks for the follows, favorites, and reviews!